Nicest Thing

“Oi, Malfoy!” Theodore called out as Draco entered probably the worst place a person in his predicament could’ve; a wizarding club called Five Spells.

It was sprawling with wizards and witches, mostly between the age of 18 and 25. A popular hangout for the rich and famous by far, Draco could literally pick out all of those who either had loads of galleons to spend on women, or men, and those of whom were famous through other means; like Quidditch or being in popular rock bands. The only person who looked entirely out of place was his friend, Theodore Nott.

While he still maintained the angular chiseled face of a god, and let’s face it; most Slytherins did look bloody good, his somewhat faded robes made him come off as nothing more than a pauper. Draco hardly cared about attire, but he had an image to up hold lest he get on the wrong side of Mrs. Malvini; dreadful woman with a stick up her arse.

Wearing black slacks and a silver dress shirt with a few buttons popped open and rolled up sleeves, Draco waved to Theodore with one arm. He attempted to ignore the faces surrounding him, the women who almost naturally flitted to his side in an attempt to get his attention, and the blatant displays of frisky nature some provided.

“Didn’t think you’d make it,” Theo laughed, giving Draco a firm handshake, followed by half a hug, “Blaise is going to be late, of course. Wife wouldn’t let him leave until he saved her from his mum.”

“Then he’s going to be a while,” Draco grinned, taking a seat beside Theo in a secluded booth that overlooked the entire club, “Tell me why we agreed to meet here again?”

“What? You don’t enjoy our weekly boy’s night out anymore?” his best friend asked, waving a scantily clad waitress over, “Rounds for us, yeah?”

She took one look at Draco and grinned broadly, “Sure thing, loves.”

“It’s not that I don’t enjoy shouting to some one sitting two feet away from me, being unnecessarily groped by strangers, and…” Draco waved his hand in front of him as a cloud of smoke from the next booth rolled over him, “Getting the black lung…I thought we agreed on somewhere more…quiet?”

“If I didn’t know any better, Draco,” Theo laughed, “I’d say you’ve gone the way of the old codger.”

Draco grumbled and leaned back, resting a foot on their table, “Rather be an old codger than this…”

“What?” Theo asked over the music, clearly unable to hear him.

Draco sighed and pulled his wand out, casting a quieting spell around them. The music was dimmed to a low hum and suddenly he could hear his own thoughts. Thank Merlin. Theo merely laughed, as if the idea hadn’t come to him at that moment either.

“So, did you read the Prophet?” Nott asked with a quizzical brow, “It’s all the talk at work, ya know. Whether it’s real…”

“I wouldn’t believe everything you read,” Draco shrugged, “My father’s in a rightful spit at this moment. Ruining the family name by ‘gallivanting around with trash’ or some shite like that.”

“So it’s true then,” Draco cleared his throat, causing Theo to grin, “I knew it. Zabini owes me fourteen galleons.”

“Taking bets on me now are ya?” Draco laughed, leaning forward as the waitress brought them a round of firewhiskey.

“Nothing better to do when you’re away kicking arse on the pitch,” Theo shrugged, taking his drink and swirling it in his hand.

“What’d I miss?” came a voice from outside the bubble, which increased in volume as he entered.

“Not much,” Theo shrugged, “Unless you want to count Draco airing out his entire love life…”

“What?” Draco gaped, “I’ve said two things and I hardly…”

“Ah,” Blaise interrupted, plopping down next to Draco, “Denial is not only a river in Egypt, mate. Who is it? Granger?”

“Yup,” Theo nodded with a grin, “Shagging her all over France apparently.”

Draco groaned when Blaise raised an eyebrow. He wanted to shrink into a hole as his best mates decided to use him as a verbal piñata. Why they didn’t just talk about birds or get plastered was beyond him. No, they were in a fancy club, secluded in a booth, talking about their feelings. What in the world was going on?

“I couldn’t say I blame ya,” Blaise shrugged, taking a shot, “Mum’s been going on and on about how I should’ve snagged myself a war hero.”

“Cho was a war hero,” Draco frowned, watched Blaise shrug again.

“Not as ‘celebrated’ as Granger or Weasley…well Potter now,” he said, “At least you don’t have to worry about that, now do ya Nott?”

“Love being an only child with no father or mother,” Theo raised his glass, “Although I do have a biddy old aunt who is trying to set me up with any female with legs. Quite annoying.”

“He fancies that American bird ya know,” Blaise grinned, “The dueling champion.”

“Who?” Draco grinned at the thought of getting back at Theo for picking on him about Granger, “Chelsea?”

“Nah,” Blaise said, ignoring the death glare from Theo, “Lydia Li.”

Draco nearly sputtered as he took a drink of firewhiskey, “You’re joking!”

Theo’s face turned violent purple, “Alright, enough….”

“Lydia Li?” Draco laughed, “She’s downright…dreadful.”

“She’s not dreadful,” Theo argued, “Just…misunderstood.”

“Hexing everyone within breathing range is considered misunderstood?” Draco tried to steady Blaise, who had begun laughing, “Right, mental that one.”

“If I were you, Malfoy,” Theo said stiffly, “I’d shut your gob because I tell Blaise about your little…date…with Granger tomorrow.”

Draco was silent but Blaise had become interested beyond belief. He glanced between Draco and Theo, his perfect lips spreading into a Cheshire grin.

“Really now,” Blaise rested his hands on his knees, “Tell all, Nott. Tell all.”

“Don’t do it,” Draco growled, watching Theo turned the conversation onto him.

“Just spending a day in the Muggle world with everyone’s favorite bushy haired Gryffindor,” Theo replied nonchalantly, pouring himself another drink.

Blaise rounded on Draco, eyes wide, “And you say I’m pussy whipped.”

“It’s a challenge,” Draco ground out, clenching his jaw as he shot daggers at Theo, “Granger doesn’t think I can survive without the use of a wand…and I aim to show her wrong.”

“And dip your stick into her…” Blaise began but was silenced when Draco punched him in the arm.

“Touchy innit,” Theo grinned at him.

“Unbelievable,” Draco groaned, leaning back in his seat, “I need to find something Muggle to wear.”

“Well my blond friend,” Theo kicked him in the shin, “I do believe Mrs. Zabini fancies Muggle magazines…Eh, Blaise?”

Blaise grunted, “Muggle clothing…complicated. Might as well just go in the buff.”

“I don’t want to give Granger a reason to hex my bollocks off,” Draco laughed, “Her neighbor might be out and about as well…not that I mind. Very comfortable in my own skin.”

Blaise and Theo laughed, “Right, mate.”

They held their glasses up and clinked them against one another.