Title: Lips of Angel

Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.

Pairings: Harry/Draco

Words: 5300

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Very mild angst; more flangst actually.

Summary: Harry and Draco have broken up, but neither have moved on.

Author's Notes: The first in a series of song-based ficlets/vignettes that were a birthday gift and stocking stuffers for my lovely beta Whimsicality. She chose the pairing and the song idea. This first ficlet is based on Lips of an Angel by Hinder.

Lips of an Angel

Harry stared at the phone in his hand as if it were going to bite him, his disbelief palpable as he flicked a nervous glance toward the man sitting obliviously on his couch, waiting for him to come back for their post date drink, and perhaps more. But Harry would recognize this tone anywhere – it had the same impatient, imperious tone as the owner it had been assigned to. He'd been vastly amused all those blissful months ago when he had chosen it for Draco; but he never dreamed that he'd be hearing it again given their last meeting, when Draco had told him that he couldn't deal with dating him any longer.

"Everything all right there, Harry?" a low masculine voice cut into Harry's haze and made the brunet flush uncomfortably as Oliver arched a brow at the trilling phone.

"Yeah," Harry replied, inhaling sharply as he held up the device and made a split second decision, guilt eating at his gut as he walked out of the room, missing knowing eyes. "I just...need to take this. Be right back."

Licking his lips nervously, he shut the door part way and hit the send button, bringing the receiver to his mouth as he managed to intone a fairly even salutation.

"Hello," he greeted, his heart thudding in his ears as there was a slight pause on the other side before the voice that had always made him weak in the knees came across the line.

"Hey," Draco greeted hesitantly, his voice sounding tinny and hollow, partially due to the new technology, partially something else that Harry couldn't place his finger on. Or perhaps it was just that he didn't want to identify it and raise his hopes up after months of silence.

"Hey" he greeted lamely, uncertain as to what to say and then rolled his eyes, smacking himself across the head as he quickly followed it with something he hoped was reasonably coherent. "How are you?"

Okay, well, not that coherent, but one could hardly fault his slow reaction time given his stunned senses. Draco and he had argued viciously about the media cover of their relationship last they talked and Draco had been incensed at what he perceived as Harry's lack of response to the melee. Little did he know that Harry had tried repeatedly to dissuade the accusations and frenzy in the beginning, but it had only made the stories much more vicious and damaging until he finally gave up. It was a fight he was destined to lose because no matter how many years had passed since Voldemort's fall, people were still more interested in scandal and lies than the truth.

When Draco had left that day, he'd told Harry that they were over and he never wanted to see or speak to Harry again. Harry had been devastated, but reluctantly acquiesced to the blonde's desires because he had seen how distressed the coverage had left his lover, and above all else, he wanted Draco to be happy. Which is why this call had left him reeling.

"Draco, is everything okay?" Harry prompted quietly when the silence had grown on the other end and he detected a slight hitch in the other man's breathing.

"Yeah, sorry." Draco apologized swiftly, drawing a deep breath."I just..."

"Yeah?" Harry prompted again, growing concerned when the blonde trailed off.

"I didn't expect you to actually pick up," Draco admitted quietly, making Harry wince; it had taken him a while to answer, but only due to surprise, not out of reluctance. "You know, when you saw it was me. And...it's just good to hear your voice."

"It's good to hear from you too," Harry replied, swallowing thickly around the lump forming in the back of his throat. He'd never realized just how much he had missed the sound of Draco's voice until that moment.

Sitting down heavily onto his bed, his head spun dizzily at the realization and guilt welled up once more; he had someone in the other room waiting for him to continue their date and he was here, talking to his ex-boyfriend, listening to the heavy breath on the other end and desperately wishing he were the one in the next room. He was so fucked. Swiping a had over his face, he hung his head wearily; he had thought he had gotten over this over in the past six months, but all it took was one call and a handful of words to set him back to a time and place he had tried to put behind him.

"Not meaning to sound rude or anything," Harry rasped gently, clearing his throat in the reigning silence. "But was there something you wanted? Only, its kinda late and you...you don't sound so great."

"I just..." Draco's voice wavered, and he took a shaky breath before he pushed on with an odd question. "Is Oliver there?"

"Er...yeah," Harry responded, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion and his tone lilting into a faint question at the end. "He's in the other room?"

"Oh," Draco said softly, the disappointment in his tone noticeable. "I probably shouldn't have called. You're busy and..."

"No!" Harry interrupted quickly, fear snaking down his spine and pooling into a leaden weight in his stomach as he sensed Draco's withdrawal. He had been surprised to hear from his former lover, but now that he had him on the line, he didn't want the call to end. "Wait, please."

Harry stood up, looking around his room frantically as he tried to come up with a plausible reason to keep Draco talking and thankful that, despite the silence that had fallen once more on the other end, he could still hear Draco's soft, even breaths, letting him know he was holding the line.

"Let me..." Harry trailed off; let him what? Just go kick out his date and then they could pick up where they left off? What the hell was he doing? "Let me just ask him if...let me just see him out and we can talk, yeah? If you like?"

There was another small pause and Harry bit his lip, running an agitated hand through his hair as he closed his eyes and wondered what the hell he was getting himself into. He'd promised himself he wouldn't go here again. It had taken him months before he ventured out of his house socially, and even then, he'd only accepted the date with Oliver to get Hermione off his back and because Oliver knew from the very beginning it wouldn't go anywhere.

And not even five minutes of stilted conversation later, he was shunting a prospective date aside for the blond that, albeit unknowingly, left him broken and bleeding.

"Yeah," Draco replied quietly. "I'd like that a lot."

Clenching his fist, Harry tried to ignore the way those words made his heart lurch and his stomach flutter. Inhaling deeply, he opened his eyes and nodded, forgetting that the other man couldn't see the reflexive gesture before verbally confirming the request.

"Okay, um..." Harry responded in kind, darting a regretful glance toward the door. "Give me five minutes. Do you want to hold on or would you prefer I call you back?"

"Can I just come over?" Draco requested out of the blue, making Harry's heart stutter and then triple erratically, his knees going weak at the vulnerability in that voice. An emotion he knew Draco did not display well. "I hate these bloody devices."

Harry smiled at the last comment, a soft chuckle spilling over his lips before he could halt it. He remembered all too well what a struggle it had been to get the other man to acquiesce to the 'phone' and Draco had complained about the devices, the magical equivalent of a muggle cell phone, constantly and had only relinquished his stance to please Harry, who worried about him when he had to be out late for a case. There had been many such upgrades to the wizarding world that mimicked muggle technology, but few wizards had grown comfortable with them, preferring the time honored methods of communication instead.

"Um...sure," he replied hesitantly at first, but firming his resolve as he continued. "Sure. Just give me ten minutes. The floo will be open."

"Okay," Draco said and Harry could almost hear him chewing on his bottom lip nervously as he paused and then whispered. "Thanks, Harry."

Harry's lashes fluttered shut, a sweet ache suffusing his heart at hearing his name fall from those lips. No one had ever said his name quite like Draco.

"I'll see you in a few," he acknowledged huskily, holding the line until he heard the telltale chime of it closing and then dropped his hand, pressing the other to his eyes as he drew a shaky breath and prayed he wasn't setting himself up for more heartbreak.

Harry stared at the fire nervously, his hands fidgeting slightly as he rubbed his palms together and counted down the last couple of minutes before Draco's arrival. He had felt bad about shooing Oliver out the door with what even he could see was a weak excuse about needing to get to bed early as he had a full day tomorrow; but he did it nonetheless. Pressing his head into his hands for a moment, he couldn't help wondering for the dozenth time since they'd hung up if he was doing the smart thing; but, then again, when had he ever followed the wise path? He was more prone to recklessly following his heart than listening to the very real and sound objections in his head.

So he'd cleaned up the glasses from his and Oliver's after dinner drink and pulled out the bottle of brandy he'd bought six months ago, but had never opened because it had been Draco's favorite and brought back too many memories of nights spent by the fire laughing, talking and loving. He vividly remembered how Draco had used their last bottle, pouring the brandy over him in a thin line and lapping it up like a cat; his breath hitched to this day at the memory and he tried to avoid thoughts like this because it inevitably lead to the pained knowledge that they were over.

Sighing, he dragged his hand through the wild thatch of raven curls he could never seem to tame and his head snapped up as the floo activated, green flames erupting in the hearth as they spilled a slightly disheveled Draco onto the stone floor. Mouth drying, Harry stared at his former lover, noting the shadows under his eyes and that his face looked pinched and peaked, the tiniest bit of uncharacteristic stubble gracing his jaw; and still he was the most beautiful man he had ever seen.

"Draco," he breathed, licking his lips as the silent blond took his fill of him as well, likely cataloging the differences in his appearance as he'd just done with Draco.

"Harry," Draco greeted, his eyes sliding up to meet Harry's, where they collided and held with his for another long moment, leaving Harry feeling decidedly winded until he managed to shake himself out of his absorption.

"Uh...come on in," he invited, waving his hand toward the couch as he walked further into the room, and then gestured to the waiting bottle of brandy on the bar. "Would you care for a drink? I have that brandy you like or..."

"Brandy would be brilliant," Draco replied, smiling as Harry flushed at the memories that seemed to flow between them as he opened the bottle and poured a measure into two glasses, taking some himself as he was sure he was going to need it to get through this conversation.

"Okay," Harry murmured to himself, giving himself a silent pep talk as he crossed the room and handed Draco a glass, then sat on the sofa next to him, careful to maintain a polite distance despite wanting to be closer to the other man.

"Thanks," Draco murmured, shifting slightly to face Harry as he sipped at the brandy and then set it aside onto the coffee table. "So, um, how is Oliver?"

"Oh, uh...great, I suppose." Harry's forehead wrinkled and he gave a small shrug. Honestly, all thoughts or concerns of his former captain had flown from his mind since Draco had called and they weren't all that close in spite of the handful of dates they'd been on. "He's gearing up for another tour, so he's been pretty busy last couple of weeks."

"Oh?" Draco pursed his lips thoughtfully and his fingers absently fidgeted with the sleeve of his black cashmere sweater. "You going with him?"

"No," Harry carefully said, the furrow in his brow deepening at yet another odd question and shook his head slowly. "I...no...why would you think that?"

"You seemed serious," Draco muttered, a small frown marring his countenance as he continued to pick at his sleeve, obviously reluctant to meet Harry's confused gaze. "The Prophet..."

"Right," Harry sighed, rolling his eyes in exasperation at the rag that had the nerve to pass itself off as a reputable paper. Reputable his ass. "The Prophet has us all but picking out curtains and what not. You should know better than to believe anything that rag prints. Oliver and I...we've only been out a few times. It's nothing serious. Not that he's not a nice enough bloke, but he is definitely a confirmed bachelor."

"I see," Draco nodded, his shoulders releasing a bit of the tension they had been holding and almost sighed in relief at Harry's answer.

"And...um...Blaise?" Harry asked, not really caring about the man who had replaced him, but feeling a bit at a loss with this entire conversation. He seriously doubted Draco cared about Oliver either or that he had come over to exchange small talk, but he didn't know how to move it along without appearing rushed and rude. "How is he?"

"I don't know," Draco returned swiftly, reaching for his drink and taking a healthy swallow as Harry gaped at him.

"Huh?" he inquired stupidly, internally cringing at his lack of eloquence, but honestly rendered speechless. Draco and Blaise had been inseparable since he and Harry had parted and Harry didn't know what to make of that comment.

"We broke up a couple of weeks ago," Draco explained with a Gallic shrug. "If you could even really say we were together in the first place."

"Oh, I thought..." Harry's voice died, discombobulated by that revelation. It had hurt at how quickly the blond seemed to move on from him and to hear that Draco hadn't really considered him and his ex-house mate a couple soothed a bruised part of his heart. "Right, the Prophet...I really should take my own advice."

"Yes," Draco smiled faintly, exchanging a long-suffering glance with Harry.

"Are you okay with it?" Harry queried hesitantly, fiddling with his glass when Draco shot him a surprised look. It wouldn't do to make assumptions after all. "I mean, you sounded upset earlier and..."

"NO,"Draco refuted emphatically, shaking his head in negation, then sighing as he set his glass down again, swiping a weary hand over his face."I mean, yes, I was upset earlier, but no, it wasn't because of Blaise. It was my decision. He...he wasn't the right person for me."

"Oh," Harry intoned softly, his heart giving a stubborn flutter before he ruthlessly quashed it. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"I'm not," Draco murmured almost inaudibly, and it brought back the flutters despite Harry's head arguing that it didn't mean anything. Just because Draco decided Blaise wasn't right for him, didn't mean that he thought Harry was; but his heart was as stubborn as the rest of him.

"So..." Harry dragged the word out, trying to find a polite way to ask just why Draco was there. "Did you want to talk about it? Whatever's bothering you?"

"I had a dream," Draco replied cryptically, and Harry barely quelled the urge to roll his eyes impatiently, knowing it wouldn't do to rush the blond at his side. "One that opened my eyes."

"Okay," he nodded encouragingly.

"It was about you, actually," Draco confessed, giving his sleeve another nervous tug.

"Oh," Harry responded breathlessly, swallowing harshly when Draco moved closer and their thighs pressed against one another and set on hand on his knee.

"It...it was about the case you that you just solved," Draco continued, absently drawing abstract designs on Harry's thigh, eliciting a delicate shiver throughout the brunet's body and nearly shattering his concentration. "The one where you were almost trapped in the building and ended up in hospital with burns from that misfired spell."

"Yeah?" Harry queried, mentally chastising himself for the breathy tone his question took as the blond demon proceeded to, unwittingly, drive him mad with those soft, absentminded touches.

"But it ended...well, it ended very differently," Draco swallowed thickly, drawing his hand away, and Harry hated that he was simultaneously relieved and disappointed at the halted action. "You'd...lets just say you didn't make it out of the building."

"Oh, Draco," Harry breathed, making a distressed sound in the back of his throat as Draco's eyes clenched, a pained moue flashing briefly across his stoic face and took his hand, rubbing soothing circles across the knuckles. "But...I'm okay."

He knew all too well the fears that could creep up and strangle you when faced with such dreams; he'd often had them about Draco when he was working a difficult case with the Unspeakables.

"See..." Harry shook him slightly, pulling at the collar of his sweater, exposing the pale curve of shoulder and collarbone that had taken the brunt of the curse. "Not even scarred."

"I know," Draco shuddered, his fingers tightening reflexively around Harry's hand as he lifted the other hesitantly, as if he wanted to touch the exposed skin to reassure himself it was whole and unmarred, but clenched it into a loose fist instead and dropped it. "I know, but it felt so real...it made me realize that I didn't want...I couldn't live in a world without you."

"Oh." Harry whispered, his hand falling from his shoulder, allowing the cloth to spring back into place as his mind frantically processed Draco's words, his stomach adding its own notes to the butterfly chorus that had started in his heart.

"And I realized," Draco hurtled on, the words tripping over themselves in an effort to be expressed now that the dam had broken, adding to the confused elation swimming through Harry's veins. "I made a really big mistake. I should have never walked away from you, Harry. I've missed you like crazy and I've been miserable without you."

"Oh..." Harry breathed intelligibly, his mind a cacophony of thoughts that refused to jell as he stared at the agitated blond.

"Harry," Draco pleaded quietly, grabbing Harry's hand between both of his as he leaned forward earnestly, stunning Harry with the wealth of emotion that swam through stormy gray eyes. He'd never seen Draco this way, and honestly, didn't know what to say. "I know I don't deserve it, but please give me another chance? I promise, I'll make it up to you."

"Draco..." Harry started, then paused, biting his lower lip as the words bombarded him, finally falling into a discernible order in his bewildered brain. Taking a deep breath, he watched the distressed man in front of him fidget and he sighed."I don't..."

"No, you're right," Draco cut him off, withdrawing both physically and emotionally as his mask fell back into place with what he obviously construed as Harry's rejection. "I shouldn't have come..."

"No, wait!" Harry cried, panic splashing through his chest as he scrambled for Draco's hands, grabbing them and keeping the other man seated while he frantically explained. "Draco. Please, just wait."

Draco sat back and stared at Harry, their eyes melding as Draco searched Harry's face and eyes for that presumed rejection and sighed when he only found earnest appeal, the fight sapping from his body; and Harry sighed with relief, his own shoulders relaxing as he closed his eyes. Drawing a steadying breath, he wet his parched lips and studied Draco seriously, pulling together the words that could make or break this moment, but ones he knew must be said.

"I'm not saying no," Harry explained, a small smile touching his lips when gray eyes lit. "Because the truth is, I've missed you too and nothing has been the same since you've left. I just..."

Pausing, Harry averted his gaze, unable to watch the shining eyes and that bright smile fade when he reminded his former lover of all the problems that still stood between them; the most significant of these being the reason Draco walked away in the first place. They were still valid concerns, and as much as he'd love to throw caution to the wind, and throw his arms around the blond in welcome, snogging him senseless, he knew these worries needed to be addressed.

"I just..." Harry trailed off when words failed him and Draco's smile dimmed, but pushed through nonetheless. "I want you to be sure, because the last time I saw you, you said you couldn't live with the media circus that is my life."

Harry turned back to Draco with a resigned frown, nodding when the blond sighed and closed his eyes, nodding wearily in acknowledgment, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as Harry continued.

"Nothing has changed," Harry warned gently, squeezing Draco's hands between his, meeting a much more sober gaze as Draco opened his eyes. "I mean, I've only been out with Oliver five times and you see what they've been printing. I can't change that no matter how much I'd like to. They are always going to hound me; and if you're a part of my life, some of that will backlash onto you."

Harry halted once more, swallowing nervously as Draco nodded slowly, seeming to accept the truth of Harry's words; and given the fact that the blonde hadn't yet running screaming from the building, he was hopeful that they might work through this issue. But he planned to hold back just a touch until he saw that Draco was serious about working through their problems. He wanted this reconciliation more than anything, but...

"And..." He took a deep breath, his words coming in a rush as he laid it all down on the line. "I don't think my heart can stand it if you walked away again. It almost didn't survive it last time."

"I know," Draco sighed, his hands tightening around Harry's as he bowed his head in acknowledgment. "And while I hate the idea of having my life smeared across the pages of the Prophet, after everything that has happened, that dream showed me that...it doesn't matter."

Harry made a slight strangled noise in the back of his throat as silver eyes lifted and met his, and so much love and pain stared back at him. Moving unconsciously closer, he untangled his hands from Draco's to smooth soothingly over his arms before sliding them back down to entwine their fingers once more.

"I woke up, heartbroken, reaching for you instinctively and my heart dropped when I found nothing but empty space; and it took me several minutes to remember the reason why you weren't there, the dream felt that real. I don't..." Draco choked out, his voice hoarse with suppressed emotion as sad eyes locked with Harry's. "I don't ever want to feel that way again."

Making another clucking sound, Harry dropped Draco's hands and pulled the other man into his arms, shuddering softly when he found himself wrapped in a tight embrace and closed his eyes, reveling in Draco' nearness after months of absence. Resting his head against Draco's brow, he inhaled the soft vanilla, citrus and woodsy scent that he loved so much, and had missed, as the first tendrils of hope warmed his heart since the other man had walked out of the door.

"Do you think you might..." Draco asked hesitantly, his voice trailing away as if fearful that voicing the full thought would scare Harry off.

"Let's do this," Harry compromised, wanting to take this second chance, but instilling a measure of caution so he didn't rush in heedlessly as he was wont to do, only to have it all fall apart spectacularly around him. "Tomorrow, I will talk to Oliver and explain that I can't see him any longer. And then on Saturday, we can go on a date perhaps?"

"Yes," Draco agreed fervently, nodding his head jerkily, so that silky blond hairs teased against Harry's brow, mussing it further. "That sounds good."

"And we'll take it from there," Harry continued, tucking a stray lock of hair behind Draco's ear tenderly and then dropped it to take his hands again.

He could sense Draco's disappointment at his cautious demeanor and that his answer hadn't been an unequivocal yes, but he felt this was necessary. The first time around, they had rushed in as their passionate natures dictated and they had crashed and burned when things got rocky; he wanted this time to last, and for that to happen, they need to build slowly from the ground up.

"I really want to say yes, Draco, but, I also want to be sure that you know what you're getting yourself into. My life is never going to change. There will be quiet times when the paper barely notices my existence, and then something will happen, and it will kick up another media storm. I have no control over that. Can you accept this?"

"I understand," Draco whispered, smoothing his hands against Harry's arms. "Anything, Harry. I'll prove it to you. I..."

Draco never finished his thought, opting to grab Harry around the waist and snog the life out of him instead in response. Harry moaned, his hands flying up to grapple for purchase, locking onto Draco's arms and then slid them up over his biceps to curl around his neck as his lashes drifted shut. Tangling his fingers into the fine hairs at Draco's nape, Harry pulled him closer and deepened the kiss, his breathing snagging as teeth caught his bottom lip and nipped.

Gasping softly at the slight sting, he parted his lips and groaned when Draco took advantage of it, slipping his tongue between them and curled it around Harry's, stroking it languidly, enticing Harry to all but knock the blond flat on his back as he climbed into his lap and straddled his legs. Entwining his tongue with Draco's, he slid his hands up through silky blond strands and tilted Draco's head slightly, unconsciously taking control of the kiss, leaving the other man to clutch at his back as he devoured the mouth he'd missed desperately.

Pulling back when the need for air made itself known, Harry placed a chaste kiss near the corner of Draco's mouth and leaned his head against the blonde's with a sigh. He'd love to continue this, but the niggling thought in the back of his mind wouldn't allow him to lose himself in Draco just yet; he and Oliver might be casual, but he wasn't one to date two blokes at once. And he knew that, for his own sense of fair play, he needed to end what he had with the former Gryffindor before taking back up with his snarky, former Slytherin.

"Mmm...as much as I'm enjoying this, and hate to cut it short, we should wait," Harry reluctantly sighed, a pang of disappointment hitting him even if it had been his decision to halt things. "At least until I have the chance to talk to Oliver. As much as I'd love nothing more than to take you into my room right now, it's not fair to him."

"I know," Draco agreed, equally reluctant now that he had gotten what he'd been missing for months, but he too realized it was best to reconcile those nebulous attachments before they reunited. "You're right, but...do you mind if we just lay here for a while? Not doing anything, of course...I just want to feel you close to me."

"I think I'd really like that," Harry whispered with a smile.

Sighing with contentment when Draco laid back against the couch, taking Harry with him, he curled himself around the blond, burying his face into Draco's neck, and nestling his head in the crook of his shoulder, where it had rested so many times before, and let the even rhythm of Draco's heart lull him into a deep, complacent sleep.

"So did he finally do it?" Blaise asked curiously, arching a dark brow at his sandy-haired companion when the man slid into the booth, where they'd met multiple times to plot and plan.

"Draco called tonight," Oliver nodded, pausing to order a butterbeer when the waitress came up and then continued with an unrepentant grin. Really, these measures wouldn't have been necessary if the foolish idiots had just talked to each other. "Harry tried to hide it, but you know him, he can't lie to save his life. Subtle as a bludger to the head, that one. He all but shoved me out the door with some weak excuse, so I'm sure Draco was on his way over."

"It's about time," Blaise laughed, clinking his glass against his accomplice's.

Two weeks prior, Blaise had ran into the former Gryffindor after a date he'd had with Harry, having newly broken things off with Draco, and over drinks, they commiserated over the fact that neither man had moved on, but were stubbornly refusing to do anything about it. Their partnership was born that night, both wanting nothing more than their friends' happiness and plotted to make it happen, even if they had to drag them into it, kicking and screaming the entire way. Luckily, it hadn't taken that extreme of a measure.

Well – mostly – they both did owe Weasley for his supposed lack of grace.

"I thought Draco was going to drive me mad with all his Potter prattle. I was sure he was going to pop a vein when he saw that the two of you were dating. Nice touch on the domestic bliss angle; the press really soaked that up. And Draco was practically foaming at the mouth."

"That was inspired," Oliver agreed with a smirk, "But really it's Ron that is owed kudos for cementing the deal with that misfired curse."

Oliver recalled how aghast the redhead had been when they had tricked him into being an accomplice to their machinations, especially since it had been related to 'that ferret' as he put it; but even Ron had to acknowledge that Harry had been utterly miserable without Draco and reluctantly agreed to help smooth the waters between his best friend and his schoolyard nemesis. Ron's love for his best friend and adopted brother had been greater than his animosity for Draco.

"I owe him season tickets for that; Merlin knows the guilt of cursing his best friend will eat him alive, if Hermione doesn't kill him first for being careless. That and supplying that experimental Wheezes gag that affects dreams. Harry will likely kill him for getting involved, but needs must..."

"Hopefully, we'll never have to do this again," Blaise sighed fervently, taking a sip of his scotch with a weary shake of his head, thankful that Draco was now Potter's problem once more. He knew he could be quite high maintenance himself, but Draco took it to an extreme.

"Knowing those two stubborn prats? You can count on it," Oliver disagreed, taking a long, resigned drag from his butterbeer. "But next time, it will be some other sap's problem."

"Hear, hear to that," Blaise saluted with a grin.