Three's Revenge

Draco’s Detour: Three’s Revenge

By Newshound

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and company are the exclusive property of J. K. Rowling. This fiction is entirely for entertainment purposes and no money is being made from it.

A/N: I wrote this as a response to the Draco’s Detour Challenge of Per Solum Lacuna or Page of Peril. It is a companion piece to that fic and was written around chapter 13. Since this is an AU of PSL it will be contradicted by several events in that piece. All I can ask is that you suspend reality for a bit more. If you haven’t read PSL, I fully encourage you to do so, it is a fantastic read and understanding Three’s Revenge will be much easier.

Chapter 4: A Rude Awakening

The last few hours were some of the most tumultuous Draco had spent in a long time –out of bed, at least. Before he went home to Harry, he needed some time to process all that had happened and a private dining room at the Leaky Cauldron seemed the ideal solution. Hopefully, he wouldn’t run into anyone he knew before he could sequester himself behind a locked door at the pub.

He walked the short distance back to the Leaky Cauldron, musing over recent events. In his mind, a plan was being formulated, one that if successful, would push his life – and Harry’s- in the right direction. They certainly couldn’t go on the way they had been; even Draco recognized this. He refused to spend the rest of his life fighting with the man he loved, and until this issue was resolved it would remain a bone of contention between them.

He walked into the pub searching for Tom, the owner. Seeing him standing next to a table wiping it off, Draco motioned for him. Tom walked over, apprehensive, “Mr. Malfoy?” he said nervously. Draco tossed him a galleon, “you never saw me,” he cautioned. He bounded up the stairs leading to the dining rooms two at a time as Tom shouted, “Tea, sir?”

“I don’t care, surprise me,” Draco responded. He dodged in the first available room, slamming the door. He had given full rein to his vindictive impulses with Oliver and Merlin, had it felt good!

You’ve gotten just a small taste of what’s in store for you, Wood.

Smiling, Draco sat down at one of the chairs in the dining room. He leaned it back and brought his feet up to rest on the edge of the table. Deplorably common behavior and he couldn’t have felt better about it.

Tonight had been a real eye-opener. Oliver Wood had initially only ticked him off, but the more he watched Wood, the more incensed he’d become. Two thoughts had continually battled for dominance in his mind. The first was that this was the man who had created such devastation in Harry’s life with his deceit and betrayal. The second was that he had brought Flash to tears. Like he’d taken a knife and stabbed him in the heart, and then twisted it for good measure.

And there he was, walking about like he was the next best thing to pumpkin juice – the toast of the Quidditch community, everyone indulging him and covering up his indiscretions.

It struck Draco as grossly unfair. Wood had not only cheated on Harry, destroying what little trust Harry had left for a partner, but he’d blamed Harry for it and acted like he’d done nothing wrong. It could not and would not be tolerated.

Draco took Wood’s casual discard of Harry as a personal insult and he dared anyone to read Flash’s words and not feel terribly indignant by the injustice of it all. This man thought he was untouchable.

He’s in for a rude awakening.

Draco knew the ultimate justice would be for Wood to watch the man (or woman) he loved in the arms of someone else, to be treated as callously as he had treated Harry. However, he didn’t think his engineering skills, as formidable as they were, were up to a feat of quite that magnitude.

He’d learned from his father that to really hurt someone you took away what he valued most. What did Wood value most? The answer was his fame obviously, his celebrity and reputation. But how to take that away?

Take him off the Quidditch pitch.

Without Quidditch, Wood was a big, fat zero.

He certainly can’t get by on his wits.

What he needed was an advantage, someone with inside information. He also couldn’t deal with Wood directly after tonight, therefore he required an intermediary, someone to act as a front.

Charlie Weasley wanted his help with Severus. Draco needed someone to help him bring down Oliver Wood. Maybe something could be arranged; maybe they could strike a deal.
He felt a twinge of misgiving at involving Severus in the whole affair, but Severus was a big boy and if he couldn’t handle the redheaded Gryffindor, well, then he had no business in a potions lab.

He couldn’t tell Harry any of this, either. He planned to explain his change of heart about Weasley by apologizing profusely and then offering to show the veracity of his apology by assisting Weasley. He really was sorry and his behavior truly had been deplorable, so that really wasn’t a lie.

It wasn’t that he didn’t think Harry would understand – he would - all too well. Harry would at first disapprove and then, if that didn’t work, set about on a campaign (one which Draco suspected he’d have no difficulty concluding) to dissuade him from what he was about to do. Therefore, he’d have to keep Harry in the dark – no easy feat. Draco had vowed to himself that never would he lie to Harry, and if Harry asked the right specific questions, Draco would have no choice but to be truthful. The trick was to avoid those questions he could not afford to answer. Fortunately, he had several simple, effective strategies for distracting Harry.

He simply refused to sit idly by while the dirty dog that had trashed Harry’s life walked about celebrated and feted by the entire wizarding community. Not only that, it galled him to even imagine that Wood might consider that Draco would debase himself by consenting to a clandestine rendezvous in a seedy apartment where Wood had, no doubt, brought countless other wizards (and witches, probably).

His train of thought was interrupted by a soft knock on the door. “Come in,” he said, watching the innkeeper walk in with a tea service. Tom set the tray down on the table and gratefully accepted another galleon Draco offered him. “Remember what I said,” Draco warned. The innkeeper left without making a sound.

Sorting out what had happened with Harry was next on his list. He’d calmed down considerably since earlier and some things were becoming clear to him.

Yeah, like you’re jealous and melodramatic.

It wasn’t just jealousy, though. He’d realized how quickly he’d become dependent on certain routines. No matter what time he arrived home, Harry was always waiting for him, usually with dinner ready and a hot cup of the strong coffee Draco preferred warming in the kitchen. Almost without fail. And Harry really had no idea how important this had become to Draco.

For the first time in his life he felt like he was a priority; he wasn’t an afterthought or an inconvenience or something to be handled. He was with someone who didn’t want to barter or trade for what he had to offer, but someone who simply wanted to give – without strings attached.

For some reason, he’d decided to Floo home, instead of walking as he usually did. Coming home and not finding Harry waiting had been more jarring than the bumpy Floo trip. He’d recognized Harry’s voice in the kitchen immediately. He also knew from the tone of Harry’s voice that the person to whom he spoke was a close, intimate friend. He’d spent many years observing people, listening to their voices and Harry was extremely easy to read. Harry wore his heart on his sleeve and it was next to impossible for him to keep the emotion out of his voice. He’d heard what he now knew was Weasley’s voice making that inane comment about monogamy. Harry’s response caught him completely by surprise and cut right through his heart.

He’d expected Harry to at least confirm Weasley’s suggestion or, barring that, modestly protest. He’d never expected a denial or the insinuation that he was anything less than a permanent fixture in Harry’s life. Didn’t he mean the same thing to Harry as Harry did to him?

After confronting Harry he’d expected a groveling, yet sincere apology, but Harry had confirmed his suspicions by feigning ignorance. He’d obviously meant the remark the way Draco had taken it, otherwise why had he denied it? Making him out to be jealous, and melodramatic was the final straw.

He’d always been reluctant to openly share his true feelings with Harry. How did you tell someone how important he’d become? How did you admit that your life wouldn’t be the same without him - that you didn’t even want to contemplate your life without him? He’d done his share of whispering sweet nothings in Harry’s ear in bed in the dark, but in the harsh light of day, with his pride and self-respect firmly in place, revealing his innermost thoughts and feelings was much more difficult and ultimately, intensely intimidating.
The truth was he was hurt by Harry’s intimation that he was little more than some fun in bed, but the question remained: Had everything meant what he’d assumed it did and had Harry meant that comment the way Draco had taken it?

Draco realized that Harry didn’t know how important those simple and seemingly insignificant habits had become, because Draco was reluctant to tell him. He never wanted to be seen as needy and desperate, but the fact remained, he’d grown dependent on Harry’s attentions and he needed Harry in his life. His reaction earlier had made that painfully clear.

And needing someone made him feel weak and vulnerable, emotions - he had to admit – with which he felt extremely uncomfortable. Especially when he still had some doubts about Harry’s intentions.

But you already know his intentions; isn’t he your soul mate?

The journals! It didn’t matter what he and Harry said or did, what they were or weren’t willing to admit or even, how much they fought. The journals said they were soul mates, partners as were the books themselves. They worked only with each other and, as magical objects, they were infallible.

He considered the strong possibility that he’d made a serious error in judgment. He’d allowed his fear and insecurity to over-ride his reason and intellect. Harry had done and said many impulsive things and Draco now saw no reason to doubt Harry’s assertion that his comment had been simply a poor choice of words.

He eased his chair down, and walked out of the room, glancing downstairs to see if anyone he knew was there. With the coast clear, Draco descended the stairs and went out the door to Apparate home.

He really wasn’t sure if Apparating was a good idea, he was nervous about the reception awaiting him at home, but with Flooing the only alternative, he didn’t see he had much choice.

When he arrived home, the parlor was in total darkness. “Lumos,” he said quietly, glancing around. The sight that greeted him relieved him more than he cared to admit.
On the couch, sprawled out and completely naked save for a small light blanket tangled around his legs, was Harry. An empty wine bottle stood on the table next to the couch. Upon examination, Draco discovered it had been their most expensive bottle.

One hurdle had already been cleared. Harry, drunk, would not be asking him the probing questions he dreaded. Also, Harry was delightfully happy and affectionate when inebriated and getting him off to bed without a fuss would be easy.

Draco leaned over and shook Harry’s shoulder gently. “Wake up, Harry” he said kindly.

“Luc, that you?” Harry mumbled, slowly opening his eyes. “Where are you? It’s dark in here.”

“I’m right here, Flash,” Draco replied, gently stroking his hair. “Here, let’s get you off to bed.”

“Mmmm, I thought you’d never ask,” Harry said smiling. He tried to lift his head off the couch, but it fell back with a thump. “Help me up, would you?”

Laughing, Draco grasped Harry’s arm pulling him up and Harry stood up willingly. He staggered a bit, and Draco put his arm around Harry’s waist to steady him.

“I love you, Draco,” Harry gushed, words slightly slurred, leaning in to give Draco a wet sloppy kiss. He aimed for Draco’s mouth but hit his cheek instead. “I really do, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Harry,” Draco said sweetly.

“Let’s fuck,” Harry said bluntly.

“You have the most romantic way of putting things,” Draco said amused.

“I mean it, however you want,” Harry whispered in Draco’s ear.

“Why is it you never make these offers when you’re sober?” Draco asked indulgently.

“Come on, I promise, I’ll make it so, so good for you,” Harry said persistently, seeming to sober up.

“Harry, you’ll be lucky to make it to the bed, even with me carrying you,” Draco answered. “You’re not in any condition for anything but sleep.”

“Okay,” Harry said agreeably. “But don’t say I never offered.”

Draco walked Harry to the bedroom, pushing open the door and firmly guiding Harry to the bed. He pushed back the covers and let Harry fall to the bed. He undressed and then reached for his pajama bottoms that lay neatly folded at the foot. After slipping them on, he got in on the other side, wrapped his arms around Harry, who was, by now, snoring loudly, and promptly fell fast asleep.
* * * *
Harry sat at the foot of their large four-poster bed. The black lacquered wood had been polished to a high sheen and Draco had charmed the mattress so that it felt like a soft, fluffy cloud when they lay down on it. The sheets were a finely spun silk, Slytherin green with silver piping. The comforter was a pale lilac, almost gray embroidered with two pure white cranes silhouetted by a golden moon. It had been a gift to Harry from Charlie, although Draco was unaware of that fact.

Tucked safely beneath the covers, sleeping soundly was Draco.

Harry reached under the covers, firmly grasped Draco’s left foot and ran his fingers gently along the sole.

“Wake up, Draco,” he said provocatively.

Draco stirred, rolling on his side to see who had so rudely interrupted his sleep. Through sleep-clouded eyes, he dimly recognized the dark shape at the foot of the bed as Harry.

What is he doing in his work robes?

He leaned up on his elbows, scratching his head. “What are you doing up so early?” Draco asked yawning.

“Dumbledore wants a meeting to discuss the Quidditch program,” Harry replied grumpily. He sat with his left foot draped over his right knee, tugging his boot off. Draco glanced down at the floor near where Harry sat and noticed the other boot sitting neatly, its toe under the bed.

“Harry, if you’re going to meet Dumbledore, why are you taking your boots off?” Draco asked confused.

With a mad tug, Harry finally managed to free his foot from the offending boot. He placed it gently beside its mate, where they now both sat obediently tucked beneath the bed.

“Because,” he answered slowly, in low, sexy tones, “I didn’t think you’d want me crawling on the bed with them on.”

He quickly yanked the covers off Draco, crawling up and over him on his hands and knees. With his face directly over Draco’s, he looked Draco squarely in the eyes.
“I watched you for half an hour this morning, wanting you, and I mean to have you, Draco” Harry said adamantly.

Draco felt a shiver of anticipation, followed predictably by a sweet knot in his belly. This forceful, aggressive side of Harry was one he seldom saw and he could feel his heart race just imagining how Harry meant to “have” him.

Harry leaned his head down and kissed Draco. It was a rough fierce kiss, Harry’s lips plundering Draco’s, insistent, demanding tongue pushing into Draco’s mouth, rediscovering every surface, every texture, every crevice.

“Now,” Harry ordered, tugging on Draco’s pajamas. Draco swiftly complied, slipping off his pajamas, tossing them haphazardly to the floor. Harry had moved up the bed like a lion stalking his prey and the realization that he was at Harry’s mercy was infinitely arousing. He tensed up as a familiar heat coursed through his body, pulling up his balls and stiffening his cock. He recognized the predatory gleam in Harry’s eyes and instinctively dug deeper into the mattress. The stark contrast between the usually tender and consummate Harry and this morning’s wildly rough lion was becoming an incredible turn-on. In response, he bent his knees spreading his legs wide, anticipating what would happen next. Before he had time to even start fantasizing, he heard Harry whisper a lubricating charm.

“Legs, Draco,” Harry commanded, smartly tapping one.

Without even thinking, Draco obediently pulled his knees to his chest, incredibly turned on by this domineering, forceful Harry. He didn’t even notice that Harry was still completely dressed until he saw Harry unfasten his robes and fumble briefly with his jeans. He reached in, freeing his throbbing erection.

Without missing a beat, he leaned down and with two powerful thrusts buried himself inside Draco, not even noticing how Draco grunted in pain at the sudden pressure, his face twisting in a grimace.

Harry closed his eyes, losing himself in the hard, fast rhythm. He pounded into his lover, thrusting as hard and fast as he could for as long as he could. And then everything was melting, dissolving, his breath caught in his throat and he felt that blessed loss of control, like he was liquid and he’d been poured into Draco. He vaguely sensed his fingers digging into Draco’s arms, his teeth sinking into the tender flesh of his lover’s neck as the spasms tore through him.

Harry lay there, spent, forever it seemed, recovering from one of the most intense orgasms he’d had in a long time.

“Oh God, Draco, that was …” he said breathlessly.

“Quick? Over much too soon? Terribly one-sided, stop me anytime here Harry,” Draco replied, teasing him.

“Can I help it if you’re irresistible?” Harry teased back.

He climbed off Draco, retrieving his wand from the bedside table and quietly performed a cleansing spell. He tucked himself neatly back into his jeans and sat on the edge of the bed, putting his boots back on.

He looked down the bed at Draco who had by now crawled back under the covers.
“Look, about last night,” he said sheepishly. “I really didn’t mean that the way it must have sounded to you.”

“I know,” Draco responded evenly. “You didn’t … it was just you weren’t…. and then seeing you with Weasley.” The usually articulate Draco was at a loss for words.

“Draco, I thought about this last night,” Harry began. “I don’t ever want you to think you’re only good for one thing, you’re good enough for more – with me.”

Well that certainly clears that up! I feel so much better now.

“I did some thinking last night, too, Harry,” Draco admitted. “I don’t see why we shouldn’t help Weasley, I mean, he does deserve a chance at happiness, and it’s the least I can do after that abysmal behavior of mine yesterday.”

“Well, that’s great Draco,” Harry said, genuinely pleased. “I was hoping you wouldn’t be too mad about last night.”

“I’m fine,” Draco assured him. “You seem awfully perky.”

“See what a good fuck will do for me?” Harry joked.

“Good?” Draco asked feigning insult. “I should think I rate higher than good!”

“I don’t know,” Harry joked back. “You didn’t do much more than lie there and submit.”

“I thought you liked me submissive?” Draco teased.

“I’ll take you any way I can,” Harry said, serious for a moment.

“Yeah, right,” Draco drawled. “You know you can have me any way you want.”

Boots now safely back on; Harry walked up by Draco and knelt down. He caressed the blond’s face and threaded his fingers through the silky hair. He brought his head near Draco’s so that only their foreheads touched.
I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he confessed, eyes closed, voice husky with emotion.

Harry opened his eyes, staring into the gray depths, desperately seeking confirmation that he wasn’t alone in the way he felt. He searched the handsome face before him, the porcelain skin and fine features revealing nothing of Draco’s feelings. Harry’s eyes were drawn to Draco’s lips and he reached up to touch them with his finger. They were soft, somewhat small lips; lips he knew intimately. Lips he’d tasted, kissed, nibbled, and touched, yet no matter how well he thought he knew them, they always held some new mystery, a new taste or texture. No matter how often he kissed them, they always begged to be kissed again. He inhaled deeply and let out a long sigh.

The gray eyes continued to stare back at him and all at once he felt naked, exposed. Like they could see inside him, read his emotions, know his thoughts, anticipate his actions.
Draco’s eyebrows knitted together and he frowned slightly.

“Harry?” he said, eyes examining Harry’s face carefully.

Harry felt his face relax and he smiled. He looked into Draco’s eyes feeling nothing but an intense love for the man lying in front of him.

“I really do love you, Draco,” he whispered, almost too soft for Draco to hear.
Harry reached over and pulled Draco’s legs off the bed, spreading them wide.
Harry?” Draco questioned, rising up on his elbows.

“You didn’t really think I’d leave you all frustrated, now did you?” Harry asked, a wicked grin on his face.

Draco eased himself back onto the bed and proceeded to thoroughly enjoy one of the best blowjobs he’d ever had.
* * * * *
In a much better mood, Draco apparated to Diagon Alley and mentally prepared himself for meeting Charlie Weasley. Harry seemed to think that Charlie would be downstairs, and Draco hoped he was right; he really did not want to have to visit Weasley’s room.
He entered the Leaky Cauldron, and sure enough, there was Charlie Weasley sitting at a table, smiling and happy as a lark.

Draco walked right up to him and sat down.

“Weasley, don’t mind if I join you, do you?” Draco asked politely.

“I guess not,” Charlie said, somewhat amused. “Seeing as you’re already sitting down.”

“Harry has discussed your dilemma with me, and after careful consideration, I have concluded we may be of some benefit to each other,” Draco said smartly.

“Meaning?” Charlie answered wary.

“You need my help with Severus,” Draco explained. “And it seems I need your help with several plans I have in the works.”

“Go on,” Charlie urged.

“I had a slight run in last night with Oliver Wood,” Draco related.

“You mean Puddlemere’s Oliver Wood?” Charlie asked curiously.

“I mean the infidel who destroyed Harry’s life,” Draco clarified. “I saw him last night and it struck me as exceedingly unjust that Wood remains unscathed, even after all his lapses in judgment. I’ve decided it’s time I took matters into my own hands, but, in order to accomplish this goal, I will require your help.”

“What kind of run-in?” Charlie asked eagerly.

“I accepted an invitation for some extracurricular sex and left him tied to the bed,” Draco informed him calmly.

“No!” Charlie said shocked.

“I most certainly did,” Draco insisted.

“So, about Wood, everything they say true?” Charlie asked suggestively.

“Well, he certainly lives up to his reputation,” Draco confirmed. “I can see why there’s never a shortage of admirers.”

“You weren’t even the least bit tempted?” Charlie said.

“Wood nauseates me, Weasley,” Draco said in a serious tone. “The only thing I was tempted to do was vomit, repeatedly.”

“My ultimate goal,” Draco continued quietly, “is to see Oliver Wood removed from the Quidditch league.”

“How am I going to help with that?” Charlie said confused.

“We’ll discuss that at length later,” Draco explained. “Right now, I have some suspicions I need confirmed before we can proceed. Because of my impulsiveness last night, I can no longer deal directly with Wood, and that is where you come in. I can’t afford for Wood to know I’m connected with any of this.”

“What about me and Severus?” Charlie asked hopefully.
“Yes, that,” Draco replied. “Well, first of all, we’ll need some plausible excuse for you to spend time around Severus and since he spends most of his time at Hogwarts, we’ll need to get you up there – without arousing his suspicions. Is he aware of your attraction to him?”

“Well, kind of,” Charlie answered vaguely. “It was a long time ago and he probably doesn’t remember.”

“That is highly unlikely,” Draco said. “He has an excellent memory. That will put us at a slight disadvantage, but he has suffered the demise of a serious relationship, so his desperation may work in our favor. You’ve piqued my interest here, why Severus?”

“No idea,” Charlie said shrugging. “I’ve always had a thing for him, but lately, I don’t know, it’s different. You ask what I see in him, well for starters he’s brilliant. Something I’m not. He’s different, he’s not like anyone I’ve ever known and he just has this way about him – no nonsense, straightforward. I like that.”

“Look, I’m going to be honest, I really have a great deal of difficulty seeing you and Severus hitting it off,” Draco replied. “Do you really believe things can work out between you?”

“Okay, you’re his friend, let me ask you,” Charlie posed. “What kind of person do you think Severus needs to complement his life?”

”Well,” Draco said considering. “He’s more cerebral, so he needs someone a little more physical, an active type. He’s quite introverted so an extrovert would help him socialize a bit more. He’s somewhat controlling and deliberate, so he would learn a great deal from someone spontaneous and impulsive. He can also be very cynical and pessimistic, so a cheerful, positive person would really do him some good. He’s - and don’t tell him I said this - much too serious, he really needs someone to bring some fun back in his life, make him laugh, bring a sparkle to his eyes.”

“Basically, someone like me,” Charlie suggested.

“You may have a point,” Draco agreed reluctantly. “But, convincing Severus of that is an entirely different matter. Nevertheless, you have won me over which is half the battle. I think one way to approach this is for you to volunteer your services at Hogwarts. You can be honest about the dragon thing, just say you’re trying different things till you settle on a permanent career and you’ve decided to help Harry with the Quidditch program. You’ve had some success in that area, so no one will question that.”

“Some success?” Charlie said affronted. “I was only the best seeker at Hogwarts!”

“Fine,” Draco said rolling his eyes. “Oh, one ground rule, you keep your clothes on – and zipped or buttoned – around Harry. I don’t want any repeats of your last encounter!”

“That’s all past history,” Charlie assured him.

“Well, let’s make sure it stays that way,” Draco warned. “Now, we still need a way for you to interact on a daily basis with Severus. Maybe you could have some kind of illness Severus could treat with an experimental potion.”

“I don’t want Severus to see me as ill,” Charlie said offended.

“Well, there is that medi-witch-patient syndrome,” Draco offered snickering.

“I’d rather he played medi-wizard with me,” Charlie answered.

“Let’s just get you up there first,” Draco admonished. “We’ll have to clear all this with the Headmaster first, but I don’t think he’ll object if you’re not asking for compensation – you’re not, are you?”

“No,” Charlie said. “And actually I’d enjoy helping with Quidditch.”
“As Severus’ apprentice I was appointed a suite,” Draco said. “You can stay there. Hey, what about a career in potions?”

“I never even got an owl in potions,” Charlie said sadly. “I was hopeless.”

“Hmm, I’ll have to think a little further on that,” Draco mused. “I’m supposed to meet Harry for lunch, we can spring this on Severus then. We can have a foursome for lunch.”

“There’s something I’ve never done,” Charlie said smirking. “For lunch, anyway.”

“And something you never will with me and Harry,” Draco replied. “Weasley, one final caution, under no circumstances act like a fool, Severus cannot abide foolishness.”

“So it’s off to Hogwarts?” Charlie asked hopefully.

“No time like the present,” Draco said, getting ready to leave with great reluctance.

By the time lunchtime had rolled around, Draco had lost all hope of having any success where Charlie Weasley was concerned. He had stuttered and stammered throughout the entire interview and the Headmaster would have to be severely brain damaged not to have seen through what turned out to be an obvious ruse. Fortunately, Weasley agreed to do all the tedious, yet necessary chores associated with Quidditch that Harry loathed. The Headmaster could hardly refuse free assistance and accepted Charlie’s offer.

Even Charlie’s sincere and profuse apologies didn’t mollify Draco until Charlie agreed to let him and Harry sneak off to use what was now his suite should the mood strike. Draco had a somewhat happier disposition upon entering the potions lab where he needed to check on a few cauldrons and visit briefly with Severus.

“Be very careful, Weasley,” he warned. “Don’t touch anything!” No sooner had the words left his mouth, when Charlie, upon hearing Severus’ voice, turned around and sent two cauldrons crashing to the ground, their contents splashing out and finally, spilling on the floor.

“Weasley!” Draco cried exasperated.

“Weasley, as clumsy as ever, I see,” Severus said taking in the destruction before him. “You always were a walking disaster. I see all that work with dragons hasn’t helped your agility on your feet.”

“I’m much better off my feet,” Charlie said suggestively, winking. “You ought to give me a try.”

“No, thank you,” Severus said coldly.

Draco frowned. Things couldn’t possibly have gotten off to a worse start. Severus hated banter, especially with someone he really didn’t know, or like, probably. This did not seem like a good time to mention that Weasley was joining them for lunch.

“So, Draco, where are we going for lunch?” Charlie asked cheerfully.

We are doomed.

“Draco?” Severus questioned, glancing at Charlie.

“You know I always have lunch with Harry if I can,” Draco said resigned. “And I’m sure he’ll want to see Charlie.”

“So it’s Charlie, is it?” Severus said gently teasing.

“Let’s just clean this up and go,” Draco said sullenly.

“I’ll just leave this to the experts,” Charlie said excusing himself. “I’ll see you at the Quidditch pitch, I want to tell Harry the good news.”

“What good news, Draco?” Severus asked excited.

Charlie could hear Draco’s voice and then Severus shouting, “What? Explain to me how that qualifies as good news?”
* * * *
Draco and Severus made their way out to the Quidditch pitch after cleaning up the mess Charlie had made, Draco grumbling the whole time. They joined Harry sitting in the Gryffindor seats watching Charlie fly. He’d given Charlie a prototype of the Firebolt HP with which to experiment and Charlie was putting it through its paces.

“I must admit, he certainly is graceful,” Severus admitted grudgingly. “Maybe he was right about ‘off his feet’”

“You ought to be in bed with him!” Harry blurted out.

Two heads snapped around to look at him, one plainly curious, the other glaring furiously.

End Chapter 4