A Meeting By Chance

2. Shacklebolt Home

"Harry!", shouted Kingsley out, clapping the man on the back.  Harry nodded and shook his hand, his eyes roaming around until he found a face that he wanted to talk to before he was called on to make some stupid speech about the war.  

But before that, he pulled the Minister aside and asked if he could be excused for tonight.  He hadn't prepared anything to say.

Kingsley laughed and said, "There are no speeches Harry.  We are just here to celebrate life", and when he breathed a sigh of relief, wondered why he had gone to so much trouble with a tux, and why hadn't he seen that on the invite.  He smiled at the Minister in thanks, and made his way towards the bar.

Alcohol.  It was an ice breaker as well as a stress reliever.  Not that Harry had a lot of experience with it, and he certainly knew how to handle it.  He would usually start off with a glass of champagne, but because he was more of a gentleman, he would order a whiskey on the rocks, and sip it slowly, sometimes asking for a second glass, sometimes not.

He thanked the barman for his glass of bubbly and started to mingle.  "Ah there you are Harry", gushed Hermoine with a pink tinge to her cheeks.

"Hey Hermoine", he said back.  She was standing in a circle with Ron and Neville, talking about how she planned to change the Ministry.  He chatted with them for a while, and made his way back to the bar to order his whiskey.

Mingling around with the others he spoke to Arthur Weasley about muggle inventions, he spoke to Professor Snape about who was going to be his protégé after he retired.  The small talk went on and on and before you knew it, Harry's glass was empty again.  He held onto it a while longer, before he decided to have it filled.

He raised his eyes and saw across the room, a man who had been haunting his dreams for a while now.  Dressed in the very same tuxedo, with his longer hair falling just past his neck, was his once enemy, now friend, Draco Malfoy.

Harry couldn't really call them friends.  They would only ever see each other at these functions, and speak in a cordial manner.  Not that he didn't want to talk more to Malfoy, but it seemed that the man always had an audience or a date, or both.  

And Harry hated intruding on that.  Best to just sit on the sideline and admire beauty.

Beauty that he found himself wanting to touch, but that he knew he could never have.

Malfoy must have felt his eyes on him, because he raised his eyes after a while, and in mid laugh, his face became pointy and stoic, the way that he always held it in front of Potter.  No use showing the man his magnificent smile, if he wasn't going to appreciate it.  

Fucking Ponce.

Harry took a chance, bowed his head slightly, and smiled at the blond raising his glass in a show of Cheers!  Malfoy bit is bottom lip and raised his glass back, keeping his eyes locked onto the green orbs of Potter.  

Then he saw the eyes of Malfoy look at his glass, and remembered that it was empty.  He chuckled at himself, and with a raised brow, he turned around to go and get a refill.

He stood at the bar, waiting to be served.  He was starting to feel hot from the tiny interaction with the Slytherin, so he removed his jacket, showing off his dark green waistcoat that he had been hiding.  Draping his jacket over the barstool, he gained the attention of the barman and ordered another whiskey.

"Potter", said the snide voice of Malfoy to his right.  

Harry turned towards him and gave him a genuine smile.

"Malfoy", he said with a slow nod of his head.  

"Where is your date?", asked the blond.

"I didn't bring one", came the reply.

"And why not?  Surely there are enough fan girls who are lining up to be seen out and about with the chosen one", sneered Malfoy.

Harry licked his lips and wondered if he should just - go for it.  

He decided fuck it, he was going to, let Malfoy take from this conversation what he wanted to.

"I can't seem to find my type", he answered smoothly and then bit his bottom lip in a seductive way.

"And what is your type Potter?", he asked, loving the sexy look on Potter.

Harry leaned in further and whispered, "Moody, witty, snarky, insulting, blond bombshells".

Without skipping a beat Draco replied, "And you don't know anyone like that?"

Harry gave a sexy smile and answered.  "Oh, I do".

"Why didn't you ask them then?", asked the blond, who was licking his lips and watching as Harry's eyes followed the movement of his tongue.

"I'm pretty sure he would have said no", came the husky voice of the savior.

"How can you be sure?", asked Draco raising a well groomed brow.

"Call it intuition", Harry said, hoping that at least he had got his message across.

"Who is your date?", asked Harry with a hint of jealousy in his voice.

Draco looked into his eyes and answered, "Nobody special", hoping that Potter wouldn't ask anymore questions.

"And does nobody special have a name?", he asked, enjoying the squirming from the blond.

"Yes actually.  It's mind your own fucking business", he snapped and walked back to where he had left his audience, leaving Potter with a huge grin on his face, and standing alone at the bar.

Harry had just about had enough after he had finished his whiskey, and went around to start saying goodbye to the guests.  He received a hug from most people, and stayed a while longer to talk to Narcissa.

When he approached Draco's little group, it was Pansy who pulled him into the circle.  "Potter, Draco here tells me that you didn't bring a date.  What the fuck is wrong with you?", she demanded to know.

Harry laughed and said, "Nothing wrong.  Like I told Malfoy, I couldn't find anyone who is my type".

"Which is what Potter - What is your type?", she insisted on knowing.

He turned and whispered something in her ear, and when her mouth opened at the revelation, she gushed out in laughter.  Then he said his goodbyes, and when he arrived back home, he was quite pissed that he hadn't thought to introduce himself to Draco's date.