"Malfoy."

"Potter."

Draco withheld a groan and, as inconspicuously as he could, massaged his temples. He could feel a headache coming on, and for once, it wasn't even his fault.

Pansy, for whatever crazy reason, wanted to get in Ginevra Weasley's pants. However, as a Gryffindor, Parkinson knew she would first need to woo the girl, gain her trust, and then receive her prize. It was a disgusting thing to do, to pursue someone for their body and then leave them after you received what you wanted, but that was Pansy. She got what she wanted, and wasn't afraid to be hexed while doing so.

But then Parkinson went and dragged Draco into it.

The blond had been doing a wonderful job playing a goody-goody. He worked at the little potion's shop down the way, didn't start trouble, and valiantly ignored all the shit the wizards still sore about the War sent his direction. In fact, he'd even gone as far as to avoid Potter for the past few months, as it seemed they lived close by. Draco wasn't stupid, and knew that the natural outcome of Potter and Malfoy in one area was a fight.

But then Parkinson went and dragged Draco into it.

Ginny, though intrigued, didn't trust Pansy (and for good reason). She'd decided to bring none other than Harry Potter along for their coffee date. Parkinson, thinking three steps ahead, agreed on the terms, but only if she could bring a friend as well. This friend was Draco, who'd been blackmailed into threatening the shaky calm of his life by joining the girls and Harry bloody Potter for lunch.

As he stirred the straw in his iced tea, he wondered whether Trevor, that menace, was worth it. Taking a sip, he banished the doubt from his head. Yes, Trevor was worth it.

"So." Potter, for the first time since arriving, took his eyes away from a flirty Pansy and slightly flustered Ginny, to rest them on an awkward Draco. "How are you?"

Draco withheld a snort, because he didn't want to offend the speccy git too early into the date, and settled with a shrug. "Fine. You?"

"Fine." Potter shrugged.

"That's good." Draco sipped at his drink some more.

"I guess." Potter glanced around the little shop, looking faintly uncomfortable.

Draco, completely forgetting about his previous promise to be inoffensive, became annoyed.

"If you were hoping to start up a conversation, Potter, I do so hope that your best attempt wasn't 'how are you'."

Potter raised an eyebrow at him. "And what would you suggest?"

"Well," Draco rested his elbow on the table, and set his jaw against his fist, "definitely not 'how are you'. That's the kind of impersonal question you ask people you don't actually want an answer from. Pleasantries." He waved his hand flippantly. "If you expect a real response from me, you'll have to ask something that makes me feel as though you're actually interested in receiving one."

Potter, making a face that looked like the beginnings of a smile, copied Draco by resting his jaw in his palm.

"Is that how it is?" he asked. "Well, then let me rephrase that. What are you doing here?"

Draco blinked. "Jumping right to the serious questions, are we?"

"You said not to be impersonal," Potter quirked the corner of his lips, "and I don't beat around the bush with people I'm personal with."

Draco considered asking what assaulting greenery had to do with anything, but let it slide.

"To be perfectly honest, If I knew you were going to be the friend Ginevra was bringing, I wouldn't have come. But, being the conniving cow she is, Pansy made sure not to mention your name until we were right outside. Quite the predicament, as I'd already promised her I wouldn't bail, and that if I did, she had rights to Trevor. Generally, I'd be happy to remove the satanic creature from my abode, but Pansy? She'd kill him. She can't even care for a plant, you see."

"Trevor?" Potter asked.

"My pet." Draco nodded.

Potter looked faintly amused. "Your pet," he echoed.

"Oh, Merlin, don't get him started about his pet," Pansy cut in.

Draco, though he had no intention of going on any rants about his troublesome crup, bristled at Pansy's clear disdain.

"Excuse me," he huffed, "was I speaking to you? And I'll talk about Trevor if I damn well please. Merlin knows he's more interesting than you'll ever be."

"Trevor?" Ginny asked.

"His pet," Potter supplied.

"His pet crup," Pansy added. "Out of context, he makes it sound like a dragon. Trevor is his pet crup."

"Pansy, darling, I think you misspoke. Demon. Trevor is a demon whom I cannot seem to get rid of."

"You adore him." Pansy examined her black nails.

"Want to know how he got his name?" Draco smiled pleasantly. "I was calling for pest control, you see, and I called him 'trouble' over the floo. Well, when they came to check out my problem, they assumed he was my pet named Trevor. They oh-so-very-helpfully informed me that 'Trevor' needed registration papers if I didn't want to lose him, and offered to file them for me. Well, ignoring my claims that the parasite was most definitely not mine, and had simply shown up one day, they filed the papers for me."

"And now he's stuck with him," Pansy said.

"And now I'm stuck with him," Draco agreed.

"If you train him, he shouldn't be too bad," Potter offered.

Draco glowered darkly.

"Don't," Pansy warned, but it was too late.

"Trevor is bright green," Draco began, "and sneezes fire. Safe to say, I believe he was an experiment gone wrong, and I made the mistake of feeding him once, and now he won't leave. It was a moment of insanity, I'll agree. Me, feeding helpless woodland creatures? What has the world come to?"

"He's very dramatic." Ginny smiled.

"Trevor heats when he gets excited, and I mean that literally. He becomes warm. If I accidentally show too much affection, he can leave scorch marks on the floor, and don't even get me started on how my designer robes became resigner rags in mere seconds."

"Please," Pansy agreed.

"Trevor is a menace," Draco concluded with a scowl, "and though he can be slightly charming once every few months-"

"You've only had him for a few months," Pansy pointed out.

"Are you the expert on my home life, now?" Draco sneered at her. "If I recall, I wasn't talking to you."

"Then stop." Pansy rolled her eyes.

"You two are like children," Potter said, looking more than a little surprised.

"Draco hasn't changed since he was five," Pansy explained.

"Shut it," the blond elbowed her, "and I was a brilliant five-year-old. If only you would be so lucky."

"Draco peed the bed until he was five," Pansy said.

"Oh my god," Draco gaped at her, "are we really doing this? Right now? We're really doing this right now?"

"He believed in the boogeyman until he was seven."

"Pansy thought babies were made by a couple sharing drinks until she was, like, eleven." Draco raised his eyebrows at her in clear challenge.

"One time Draco mistook this random woman for his dad from behind."

"She was rather masculine in the shoulder area," Draco said defensively, "and Pansy used to own kneazles. Once she spilled a bowl of their milk and lied down on the floor with them to lap it up like an animal."

"One time Draco ate one of those scented quills." Pansy smirked.

Draco wrinkled his nose reflexively. "It tasted like pure death. Once Pansy and I went to the store together with her parents, and we got separated from them, and we were sure we were going to be lost there forever. We planned our graves in the pastry section, for obvious reasons." Draco snorted.

"Of course you would remember where we planned our graves." Pansy sighed.

"He's very dramatic," Ginny laughed.

"I'm not that bad," Draco sniffed.

"You're not that bad," Potter agreed with a crooked smile, and Draco's stomach did an odd little flop. "We all did embarrassing things as children."

"Do tell." Pansy fluttered her eyelashes.

"Potty training stories notwithstanding," Draco added before he sipped at his iced tea.

"Is Trevor potty trained?" Potter asked.

Draco nearly spit out his drink, he whipped up so fast.

"Now you've done it." Pansy dropped her head in her hands.

"He's trained now, but Salazar. Don't get me wrong, that crup takes to tricks like fish take to water, but then he can't remember to take his shits outside the house? I don't believe it for a second. He's an intelligent crup-"

"Careful, darling, your love for him is rearing its ugly head again." Pansy smiled sweetly.

"I think it's cute," Ginny said.

Draco, ignoring them both, kept talking.

"-has this cool trick where does a backflip, but if he tries too many consecutively, his temperature picks up and his tail will start to smoke. It smells sort of like a forest fire, which is interesting- wait, where was I? Oh. Yes. His intelligent brain works 24/7, three hundred sixty days a year-"

"You've only owned him a few months," Pansy felt the need to point out again.

"-but magically shuts off the second he needs to go to the bathroom."

"He does seem like a rather magical crup." Potter smiled.

Draco scowled at him in response. "Stop by and take him off my hands any time, Potter. He's a demon."

"You know," Ginny tapped her chin, "I used to have this owl that sprinkled snow whenever she spread her wings. It was a potions accident, some sort of anti-freeze gone wrong."

"I considered the embers charm." Draco turned to her, looking genuinely interested. "It's purpose is to temporarily turn the wizard into a living heater. In cold temperatures, you can imagine, any charm, whether it makes you sneeze fire and smoke the warmer you get, is valuable. That being said, it's possible someone cast it on my crup-"

"You said 'my crup', just now." Potter smirked.

Draco stiffened. "No, I said the crup. I don't- he's not-"

"Admit it, Draco. You adore him." Ginny grinned.

"He does." Pansy sipped at her drink in a vain attempt to hide her grin.

"You're all terrible," Draco muttered sulkily into his cup. But Potter snorted, and Ginny laughed, and Pansy's smile didn't look as deceptive as it did genuinely warm. For a reaction like that, the blond couldn't stay too grumpy, and the rest of the coffee date went by very quickly, and soon enough, they were preparing to part ways.

As Ginny and Pansy said their goodbyes, Draco turned to Potter, who was watching him.

"I had a good time," Potter said.

"I'm good company, nowadays." Draco smiled in a way he knew would be more charming than condescending, though a little mix of both.

"I haven't seen you around much." Potter stuffed his hands in his pockets, and though the action momentarily distracted the blond, Potter was still watching him when he glanced back up.

"I'm on probation," Draco said. "I can't cause anymore trouble. Well, the serious kind, anyway," he flashed a little smirk, "but it's not too hard to realize that you and I don't always mix too well."

"You've been avoiding me," Potter said more than asked.

"Not necessarily," Draco lied. "We may live nearby, but I believe we leave and return at entirely different times."

"You must have seen me out and about at some point." Potter was frowning at him.

Draco stared back at him in open surprise. "I didn't think you would want to see me," he admitted. "I'll say hi next time."

Potter's lips quirked. "Do that. Today was fun."

"It's always a fun day when Pansy's there to tell everyone my embarrassing moments. As if people haven't seen enough of those." He rolled his eyes, but his smile was affectionate.

"You've changed," Potter said.

"I am older than five, if you'd like check." Draco raised an eyebrow.

"I mean, since the War. You've changed." Potter was staring at him again. "That's to be expected, I guess, but I didn't expect that."

Draco considered getting annoyed, or not replying at all, but instead, he carefully considered his answer before saying it aloud.

"People are shaped by their surroundings. Friends, family, wealth, opportunities. My surroundings changed, and so did I. Though, I suppose I'm putting that lightly." Draco averted his eyes from the green ones staring back at him, momentarily eyeing the way Pansy brushed her hand against Ginny's face a couple feet away. The action looked so affectionate, he was a little confused by it. "It wasn't easy, but I felt it was necessarily to change, especially when even I didn't like myself anymore."

"And you like yourself now?" Potter asked.

Draco hummed contemplatively, then smiled a little smile. "I'm not that bad."

The left side of Potter's smile lifted higher than the right side, making it charmingly crooked.

"You're not that bad," he agreed.

AN: Chapters will vary in length.

Honestly I just like this first chapter the best, but.
I typed 20+ pages so I might as well post the rest, even if it's not nearly as good...?