Chapter Text
Soft snoring drifted from the heaped pile of bedding that Tilly assumed must be the hungover Master of the house. Evidence of last night still littered the room and she swiftly vanished the two empty vials of sober-up, along with cigar remnants and a wastefully ruined silk tie.
The elf folded haphazardly thrown clothes into a neat pile in the closet and decided that the room was in desperate need of a good airing. She cracked the window with a snap of long fingers, gave the room a last once over and disappeared with a soft ‘pop’ before anyone would know she’d been there at all.
Sometime later, bleary-eyed and creased brow in indignation at the light streaming through open curtains, Draco rolled over and spotted a jug of water sitting on his bedside cabinet. He heaved himself into a sitting position to pour a glass of much-needed water and sloshed some onto his duvet in the process. Fucking typical.
In the middle of the first life-giving gulp, a sleepy groan from his bedroom door pulled Draco’s attention to a slightly dishevelled Theodore Nott shuffling into the room wearing what looked like half of his father’s favourite pyjamas.
“Nott, please tell me you are not wearing my father’s monogrammed acromantula silk pyjama bottoms,” Draco groaned, eyes closed in exasperation.
“You have eyes, I don’t need to tell you,” Theo said with a yawn as he dropped to sit on the edge of Draco's bed and leaned against the nearest of the four posters.
“Do I even want to know how you found them?” he asked and drained the rest of his water, jerking the jug out of Theo’s reach as he went for the handle.
“Tilly was only too happy to help me after I got you home and poured sober-up down your neck," Theo countered and raised his voice to imitate a house elf’s squeak, “Oh Mister Theo, I is thanking you! What would we do if Lady saw Master in such a state!?”
“What indeed,” Draco grumbled and reluctantly handed Theo the water, “though I do recall that you were the one who got me into that state in the first place, so I don’t feel too inclined to start handing out awards just yet.”
“Shame.” Theo shrugged. “I had such excellent plans to share with you today as well… but if you’re going to be a miserable git, maybe I won’t.”
Draco had known Theo since they were toddling about their respective manors, escaping their parents and avoiding the ever-watchful eyes of house elves. They’d spent long summer afternoons plotting the best way to steal french pastries from the kitchens during many unending and mind-numbingly dull garden parties. They had shared successes, failures, and survived both of their fathers' decisions to follow the same genocidal lunatic. This resulted in not only a laundry list of items to bring to a healer but a solid understanding of his best friend’s mind. It was this long-standing knowledge that meant Draco was unwaveringly certain that if there was something Theodore Nott wanted to share, nothing on this earth would keep him from doing it. He knew, he'd tried.
“Sounds fine to me," Draco murmured as he laid back down and rolled away from the sight of Theo’s disturbingly hairless chest, "feel free to close the door on your way out.”
“Oh come on, don’t spoil my fun,” Theo whined, the tease in his voice growing, “at least pretend you want me to tell you. I’m going to force you along anyway.”
Draco glared at him over his shoulder. “ Force me along? And what exactly have you decided to sign me up for, Nott?”
Draco groaned as realisation struck, forcing him to sit up and address his so-called friend. ”It’s bloody Valentine's day. Don’t make me fire you for setting me up on a blind date.”
Theo’s grin widened to a point that made Draco’s stomach drop.
“No,” Draco said flatly, arms crossed over his chest.
“I haven’t even said anything yet!”
“And yet… No.”
Theo’s grin fell by a fraction at Draco’s glare before it returned with determination. “I’m not going to spoil the surprise - yes, there is a surprise, stop sulking - however, you will be pleased to hear that I have not set you up. We’re going to attend the opening of my latest investment and you cannot let me go alone.”
Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know I hate surprises.”
“I know.”
“You’re still going to make me go, aren’t you?”
“I am, it’ll be good for you. You might even make a friend,” said Theo with a conspiratory nudge to the lump of duvet that was Draco’s feet.
“I have a friend. He’s meddlesome and tiring, I even tried to employ him to return some semblance of decency to the relationship, but that appears to have failed dismally. I don’t need another,” Draco grumbled as he swung his legs over the opposite side of the bed to Theo, resolving to brush the taste of stale firewhisky from his mouth.
“You have other friends!” Theo called after him, followed by no small amount of disgruntled muttering that Draco could no longer hear through his washroom door and over the sound of running water.
As he fixed his hair, the familiar crack of disapparation came from beyond the door and Draco gratefully returned to his empty bedroom.
Satisfied in his successful escape, Draco leisurely plucked a green apple from a bowl on his side table and took a crisp bite when a sudden tapping came from his window. A barn owl sat outside on the balcony, striking Draco as mildly odd. He knew the owls of his business partners and immediate friends, none of whom used a standard barn owl, which left Draco with only one explanation. Theo.
Draco opened the window and retrieved the scroll from the post office owl, which gave an almost professional-sounding hoot before promptly taking off. Unravelling the parchment with no small amount of dread, Draco dropped into a chair to read.
.:. In Tenebris .:.
Mister Draco Lucius Malfoy,
In advance of this evening’s grand opening, we are pleased to share some important information with you.
As you have RSVPed without a plus one, we are delighted to inform you that you will be joining us for the second portion of the evening, commencing at 8 pm sharp. Further information will be unveiled on arrival and not a moment before.
Do not be late!
Oculis clausa et aperi cor tuum
“Fucking Nott,” Draco murmured to himself as the scroll rolled itself up neatly, the parchment bleeding into an inky black.
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Tilly appeared by Draco’s closet doors at 6 pm. “Master Draco…” she called as she peered inside.
A small shuffling could be heard towards the back of the closet but no sign could be seen amongst the varying shades of grey and black fabric.
“Master Draco!” she called again, with slightly more volume.
A shock of blonde hair appeared to the right, followed by a frowning Draco with two identical white shirts in hand.
“Mister Theo is here for you sir,” Tillly declared. Before Draco could respond, Theo’s irritatingly cheery face appeared around the doorway to the right of his tiny elf and she popped away without a word.
“Ah, I see you are still getting ready,” Theo commented with a grin as Draco scrutinised the two shirts.
“That scrap of parchment didn’t even have a dress code, Theo. Just what have you invested into?” Draco asked as he pulled on one of the shirts and evaluated the result in a large ornate mirror.
“There is no dress code, but it’s the opening and you are the boss of the major investor so I’d appreciate some effort on your part,” Theo retorted, ignoring the look Draco shot him and helping himself to peruse the delicate bottles of aftershave.
As Draco tried to pluck a bottle from Theo's prying hands, he was met with resistance and a scrunched-up nose. “Not that one.”
Draco’s eyebrows flew up with a tinge of annoyance. “Excuse me, do you know what that cost?” he snapped.
“That I do, but do you even like it?” Theo asked and returned the offending bottle to the shelf with a mischievous quirk of his brows.
Draco stopped himself, taking a moment to think whether he actually liked something wasn’t something he often took the opportunity to do. Most of his actions were the result of what he was expected to do, what he should own and what his partners would like best - including this aftershave, which if he was totally honest, he found slightly overpowering.
“No, I suppose it’s not a favourite,” Draco pondered aloud before he rounded back to Theo with suspicion, “why are you pushing this?”
“This isn’t a work event Draco, no one is going to be judging you,” Theo said with a tinge of exasperation.
“Everyone is always judging me, Theo,” Draco sharply shot back, “don’t be dim, it doesn't suit you.”
Theo sighed and ran a hand through his artfully tousled hair. “Mate, this is not our work, alright? It’s my investment and I need you there. As my friend.”
Neither said anything more as he stepped past Draco to rummage through the perfectly displayed dresser and pulled out an old scent he hadn’t worn since he was a teenager. Truthfully, he’d been far too young for it then, but his mother had appeased him and he’d loved it until things like aftershave became a mild concern when a madman was holding court in your dining hall.
Giving it a sniff, Theo nodded in approval and handed it to him. “This one.”
“What is happening at this event? You’re acting odder than usual,” Draco asked with a quirked brow but accepted the bottle from Theo’s outstretched hand all the same.
“I just think this evening might be… illuminating,” Theo finished after a thoughtful pause.
“What a specific word choice for an event where the only scrap of information I have included a litany of Latin words about the dark,” Draco muttered with a roll of his eyes.
There would be no point pushing for more information, he’d only succeed in making Theo smug for intriguing him and there was not a chocolate frog’s chance in a cauldron that he would allow that to happen.
Straightening the cuffs of his shirt, Draco appraised his outfit in the mirror once more and turned to Theo with a questioning look.
“Very dashing,” Theo agreed without looking, “Come on, I promised Finnegan I’d get there before opening.”
“Finnegan!?" Draco groaned, instantly ripping out the red cufflinks he’d chosen, "how did I not know this bar was owned by Finnegan?”
He would not be caught sporting Gryffindor colours at what would undoubtedly be a glorified lion's common room party.
Theo’s head fell forward in frustration as Draco selected an onyx set and rechecked his appearance one last time. Deeming himself ready, he strode over to stand by the floo and gestured Theo forward.
“Come on, let’s get this over with."
Theo seemed to grasp the opportunity and crossed the room in record time before Draco could change his mind on any further aspects of his appearance. Out of Theo’s line of sight, Draco’s fingers twitched nervously at his side, itching to pull at the sleeve of his left arm as they stepped into the floo for Diagon Alley.
---------------
The street was packed when they arrived and Draco realised that hadn’t seen it this busy since before the war. Shop windows were filled with displays of fluttering hearts and Celestina Warbeck's voice could be heard warbling inside as people entered or exited doors nearby.
Draco supposed that it was Valentine's Day, and people would usually be out to eat overpriced prix fixe menus and exchange cards containing terrible poetry. Add onto Valentine's Day the grand opening from one of Dumbledore’s Army and you had a perfect storm for his worst nightmare.
"It's good to see the Alley this busy. Reminds me of coming here to get my first wand," Theo commented as they began to walk. His gaze lingered on a group of witches looking into Fortescues before he added, "significantly more legs on show now though…"
Draco raised his eyebrows at his friend and reassessed the crowd. Theo wasn't wrong, there was certainly far more skin on show than he could remember coming to Diagon before the start of each school year. Not that he was really complaining, but it was a notable change with the increase in muggle culture within the wizarding world. Robes were frequently being foregone in exchange for the latest muggle fashion and that meant significantly shorter skirts among the witches their age.
"Didn't have you pegged as the type to perve on women just going about their business, Nott," Draco commented as he averted his eyes from a pair of witches standing by the Weasley joke shop.
"I'd prefer not to be pegged at all, thanks mate." Theo winked as Draco rolled his eyes and pulled a face. "But I don't consider it perving, simply observing. You'd have to be blind not to notice - even you’re wearing a suit jacket instead of robes."
Draco considered himself for a moment and shrugged. Whilst it was something that had begun as a conscious effort to shed the reputation of his youth, he had to concede that muggle men's wear was significantly more comfortable than heavy wizarding cloaks. He now only wore robes for formal occasions or meals with his mother, which were often the most formal occasions one could find themself in.
As they got closer to the bar, they began to spot old students from Hogwarts that Draco hadn't seen since their school days. The uncomfortable knowledge that their last memory of him would be standing on the wrong side of the war or reading one of the ridiculous articles that Skeeter had published in recent years began to twist in his stomach and he swallowed thickly.
Before Draco could cringe at the memory of her latest article he spotted The Beetle herself. She was standing out against the crowd in a garish pink dress, the green feather of her blasted quill poking out of a large heart-shaped handbag.
Draco abruptly pulled Theo to a stop before she could catch a glimpse of them.
"What the fuck is she doing here?" Draco whispered furiously as Theo rubbed his neck in feigned whiplash and sighed.
"She's the coverage,” Theo groaned, “try not to let her get to you. I know she's a nightmare but she is the best when it comes to drumming up interest.”
Draco internally rolled his eyes but kept his expression stoic as they continued forward, spotting the way that Skeeter's eyes glinted with predatory glee at the sight of them.
"Why young Mister Malfoy, this is a delightful surprise," Rita purred, her voice sickeningly saccharine, "my readers and I have been labouring under the devastating impression that you are happy as a lifelong bachelor! But could you perhaps be looking for the future Lady Malfoy tonight? It is the night of love, after all."
Draco's eye twitched as he watched the end of the quick quotes quill shiver with excitement by her elbow.
"Rita." He fixed a smile on his face and tamped down his urge to beat her with her own bloody handbag. "It's always a pleasure. I'm shocked you could bat suitors away long enough to work on Valentine's day."
Theo cut across them as Rita's smile slipped and her lips pursed.
"Rita, looking lovely as ever," Theo complimented and air kissed each of her cheeks, "have you seen Seamus? We need to see him before everyone arrives."
"I left him fluttering inside over drinks," she dismissed with a wave of red talons, her eyes already looking past them for the next arrivals.
Grateful that Rita’s attention had swiftly moved on at the prospect of better gossip, they made their way towards the entrance of the bar. Despite the glow of lamps along the alley, the windows and doorway of the bar seemed to absorb all light, leaving him unable to see more than an inch inside. Very muffled chatter could be heard, though the voices and words were indistinguishable.
“Good, right?” came Theo’s voice to his right. Conscious that he didn’t want to appear too impressed by anything owned by Finnegan, he swiftly schooled his expression and gave a small nod.
“The charm work was done by one of the Weasleys I think - turned out really well. I think you’ll like how Seamus has styled it,” Theo continued, excitement in his voice causing him to ramble as he led Draco through the curtain of black into the bar.
The instant Draco had passed through the doorway, the darkness was lifted and his eyes slowly adjusted to the dim but warm light inside. No candles or lights existed in the room, but instead, a soft glow seemed to spread from the corners and bleed softly across the space. There were tall tables dotted around the room for people to rest their drinks and hors d'oeuvres floated gracefully around on trays.
Most of the guests wouldn’t be permitted for another 20 minutes but a small group were chatting closely by the bar and Theo began to stride forward as he spotted Finnegan. Draco spotted Potter subtly playing with the long red hair of the youngest Weasley and groaned inwardly. If Potter and the Weasleys were already here then that could only mean... Fuck.
Sure enough, his gaze landed on the riotous curls of Hermione Granger, piled surprisingly elegantly on her head with a few tresses wisping down her neck. She was wearing a dress that cut far further down her back than he ever would have assumed she would allow and even higher heels than she’d been wearing yesterday. Draco could feel the flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck as he cringed at the memory of standing foolishly in her sitting room while the group warmly greeted Theo, oblivious still to his presence.
Weasel spotted him first, nudging Potter and nodding towards Draco as he swiftly grabbed a champagne flute from a nearby tray. Theo’s head popped up above the group and waved Draco over with a level of enthusiasm that their fathers would have both agreed was unbecoming.
The group parted to allow Draco to join them, awkward silence descending and stretching as they sipped their drinks.
After a beat too many, Draco cleared his throat and raised a glass. “Congratulations Finnegan, this place looks pretty decent.”
Seamus snorted with a smile and clapped his hand around Theo’s shoulder, “I’ll take that.”
The silence broken, conversation once again bubbled naturally amongst the group and Draco was left relieved to be silently nodding along beside Theo whilst he finished his flute and reached for another on a passing tray.
“Malfoy.”
The voice caused him to take in too much champagne and he fought to keep his face neutral as the bubbles tickled his throat.
"Granger."
He would not choke.
"Never would have had you pegged for something like this."
He failed. Her choice of words dragged up his conversation with Theo and he inhaled several more bubbles of champagne whilst Finnegan leant across to give him a sharp slap on the back. Well, this was going excellently.
"I was coerced," he managed to squeeze out with some modicum of his regular voice.
"Ahh, yes I have those friends," she nodded with a glance to the Weasel, who was failed to hide his cautious side eye from across the group.
In fact, the majority of the group appeared to be trying to hide the fact they were watching the exchange. Even Potter's eyes flitted to them frequently from over Weaslette's head, which earned him a swift swat to the stomach from the tiny redhead. A tallest elf situation possibly, but Draco decided she was probably the best Weasley.
When Draco returned to look at Granger, he was slightly unsettled to see she was still watching him with mild curiosity.
"OK," she almost whispered, raising her glass to shield her mouth from the rest of the group, "I have to ask. Do you have any idea what is happening tonight?"
Draco tried to quash his surprise and took another drink as he turned slightly more to face her.
"I'm afraid you're out of luck. Theo very much kept the whole evening to himself until about 9 hours ago," Draco said with no small amount of grumbling.
He watched her face process his statement, a quiet "hmm" escaping her lips as she went for another sip of champagne.
"Ron and I have had our theories but the only one that actually managed to find out is Ginny," she said quietly as her eyes narrowed towards her friend across the bar.
"And she doesn't feel like sharing?" Draco mused, "I'd say that's almost rather Slytherin of her."
Just as Granger opened her mouth to respond, Theodore Nott appeared in front of them with an extremely smug look on his face.
"Fancy seeing you here, Granger," he said with a smirk.
"You knew I'd be here, Theo. We literally discussed it last night," she replied with a roll of her eyes.
Draco's brain stalled. Last night? Did Granger get all dressed up to leave the office and meet Theo last night? His eyes snapped up to his best friend whilst he ran through the evening and a foggy memory resurfaced of spending about half an hour trying to locate Theo in the smoking room to no avail. So that's where he'd buggered off to.
As Draco returned to the conversation, Granger and Theo chatted amicably beside him, her smile easy and relaxed while he nodded along. After a few moments, Granger was called away by the airy voice of Luna Lovegood, who Draco realised had small heart-shaped turnips hanging from her ears. Festive.
"And just what were you doing with the Golden Girl last night when you ditched me?" Draco groused at Theo.
"First, I didn't ditch you. I temporarily left you in the capable hands of that very keen Widow," Theo said with a wave of his glass, "and second, I went to see Finnegan. It was simply coincidental that Granger was there. The whole crowd were out for Friday drinks."
Draco glared at Theo as he drained the rest of his glass and replaced it with a fresh one.
"She doesn't know what's happening either," Draco said as he tried to regain an air of indifference. Because he was. Obviously.
“She’ll find out soon enough,” Theo said evenly.
At that moment, Rita strolled into the room with a headache-inducing “Mr Finnegan!! Are you ready to receive us? We can wait for you to sweep us off our feet!”
She came to a stop next to Draco and gave him a flirtatious wink, plucking the glass from his hand for a sip that left a disgusting lipstick stain on the rim. He wrinkled his nose and selected a fresh glass from a tray as she tried to return it to him.
Seamus stepped forward, clapped his hands together and grinned to them all in a way that made Draco feel like he had infiltrated Dumbledores Army all over again.
“Here we go!”