A/N: Ok, so I know I have stories to update, but I joined 50scenes LiveJournal and I wanted to share them here as well.
#22 Banned
Draco is up to something and he thinks he's managed to keep Harry in the dark about it
Read & Review and let me know what you think
I will probably link my responses to the prompts in the same universe
"I didn't want to stay in your flea infested den of inequity anyway!"
A body was tossed carelessly out the pub's front door.
"Bloody miscreants," the tousled blond muttered to himself, efficiently brushing off the dust he'd accumulated from his unwarranted fall.
"Draco?"
He shifted toward the shadows, hiding his face with his black hat. He pretended to limp, depending on his cane to help him evacuate.
'He doesn't know its me.'
"Baby, I'd recognize that arse anywhere."
Draco straightened, pushing his stomach forward trying to make his rounded globes less apparent.
Laugher rang out. "And not everyone would have Lucius Malfoy's infamous pimp cane."
He spun around, not able to resist the familiar taunt. "It's not a pimp cane; it's a assistive device that distinguished gentlemen use. It made him look dapper."
"Yeah, yeah," Harry drew his boyfriend into his arms and motioned at the entrance.
"Why are you here?"
"Business."
"Business? You? Here?" the 'yeah right' accusation was written plainly on the brunet's face.
"Yes, Potter. What's so hard to believe?" the blond challenged the other man, lifting his chin in defiance.
"This is Ron's favourite pub," Harry answered as if that would explain everything.
"So, I too can sit in the same establishment as the Weasel and share a pint."
Harry laughed again. "You wouldn't drink anything in that place, believe me. I'm not sure about half of the ingredients they put in their drinks, and you wouldn't drink with Ron if I begged you."
Draco started to protest, but his lover stopped the argument with a quick kiss.
"As a matter of fact, I have begged, remember? I begged you to behave at their house during the winter solstice."
"I was good," the blond assured him, returning the kiss with one of his own.
"You nearly burnt down their tree," Harry deadpanned.
"I was trying to make the lights brighter. If your friend could spare more Knuts, he could have bought decorations of better quality that wouldn't have exploded so quickly."
Shaking his head, Harry looked sternly at his exasperating, fire setting lover. "No, don't change the subject. You weren't in there having drinks with anyone. What were you doing?"
"Nothing, ok? Can we just go home?" Draco looked at Harry to make sure his eyes were bigger and moved a little closer to him as he spoke. "Come on, Potter. It's getting cold out here. Take us home."
Harry couldn't deny him when he pulled that "puppy dog face," even though he knew the little shit was manipulating him.
"Fine, come on." He wrapped the lapels of his large overcoat around Draco so he could Apparate them.
"Hey, who's going to pay for this?!" A man yelled, holding the door to the pub open with his foot.
"Go, Harry, go!" Draco urged, pinching the Boy-Who-Lived.
"Pay for what?" Harry asked the man curiously, shifting slightly to avoid Draco's fingers.
"For wrecking my place!"
Harry shot his lover a questioning glance and lowered his voice. "Love, did you do break something inside?"
Draco refused to answer the question, looking away.
"Someone needs to pay for all the shit he broke!" the man roared.
Harry released Draco so he could walk up to the pub's dusty picture window and survey the damage for himself. Taking a look around, his eyes widened in surprise.
Responding to the look of reproach Harry shot his way, Draco defended himself.
"One of his cronies threw me out on the street-- like yesterdays rubbish!"
"Excuse me?" Harry said coolly and glared accusingly at the owner.
Marching up to where the man stood, he towered over him and asked in a restrained voice, "Did one your men toss him out of there?"
The owner pressed on stubbornly. "He was destroying the place!"
Draco moved from behind his boyfriend's back.
"They were talking… maligning your name, so I shut them up…."
"They said you lost the Cannons the Cup because you're whipped by me."
"So you destroyed the bar?" Harry asked slowly.
"I could have done much worse; you're a great player and those buffoons have no right to talk about you that way!"
"I don't care what they have to say, Draco." Harry smiled at the blond.
"You have ties to the Malfoys and no one… no one--" the blond's speech was cut short when Harry kissed him.
Their lips parted and Harry whispered in his ear, "It wasn't your fault. I'd choose you over a Quidditch match anytime, even the World Cup."
"Of course it wasn't my fault! The potion wouldn't have exploded if Longbottom hadn't stuck around after delivering the plant!"
Ignoring the rant that would surely follow on Neville's usefulness ending at the doorway of his greenhouses, Harry continued on the same reassurance.
"I couldn't play with you injured at St. Mungo's, end of story, and I don't regret it, no matter how many drunken wizards 'malign' me in any pubs,okay?"
Draco didn't say anything, just starred stubbornly at the buttons on Harry's coat.
"Baby, that's enough okay. You've been banned from almost 10 pubs already and they're all expecting you to pay for the damages."
"So what?" Draco finally responded. "I can pay to fix their dingy shacks."
"Stop, okay? Please?" Harry smiled entreatingly.
"Fine, Harry! Stop with that face! Can we go now?"
"Yeah, we can go." Harry brought him close again, preparing to depart.
"Hey! Who's going to pay for this?" the owner demanded.
"Ron Weasley," Draco replied. "You can put it on his tab."
"Draco!" was the last thing the owner heard before they disappeared.
End