A Whole Lot Of Capitals - AKA The Potter Problem Project - Drarry

In Which Everyone is Lying

"I threw him in as the absolute worst. That way, every woman from him on you'd at least give a chance."

They were sitting in an Italian restaurant that was equal distance from the Auror headquarters and St. Mungo's.

Ron continued explaining through a mouth of food. "It's not like he even filled out the bloody form, I just convinced him to give it a shot."

"No form?"

"None."

"Is he even gay?"

"Who the hell knows, he might be. Did you have fun?"

Harry snorted and told him how so-not-the-point that was.

"But did you have fun? It's been a while since I've seen you so..." he gestured with his hands and stole a bite of Harry's half-eaten bruschetta.

"Oi!"

Ron laughed and opened his mouth widely to taunt him.

"Close your mouth or I'll tell your mum on you." He stirred his half-empty drink with his straw. "What do you mean by so...?"

"Relaxed. Content. If Malfoy's what it takes for you to seem like you're not half-dead all the time, then Merlin help me, but I'll survive."

Harry rolled his eyes. Malfoy wasn't what it took. It was all the sleep deprivation that was making him so "calm" as Ron put it, and he told him so.

"Whatever. If you see him again-"

"I'm not going to see him again."

"When you see him again, try not to be all obsessive about it. So, he isn't your soulmate, that's no surprise. You two being mates though isn't impossible to imagine."

The waiter came over to their table to refill their drinks and ask if they wanted anything else. Neither of them did so he walked away to go get the bill. Speak of the devil, he sort of looked like Malfoy.

Harry turned back to Ron who was raising his eyebrows. What were they talking about again?

"It's not impossible to imagine us being friends? It used to be, for me at least."

"But now?"

"Now... I guess you're right. Not impossible." Not impossible if he ignored the fact that he wasn't ever going to see Malfoy again.

• • •

At 9 p.m. that night, he purposely walked to the bar he knew Malfoy worked at.

A security officer held a hand out to stop him from entering.

"Oh, I have my ID here somewhere let me just." He patted his pockets but the man stopped him.

"No need. You know what kind of place this is?"

Harry shrugged and the officer didn't care enough to push further. He got inside and suddenly wondered if he'd come to the right place.

When he'd imagined Malfoy working at a bar, he'd thought it'd be some sort of posh bar that only served cocktails and had velvet seating in every corner. He couldn't spot him anywhere. The entire place was crowded with guys, only guys, actually and he could barely tell left from right.

Most men were wearing elaborate outfits of mesh or chains and Harry was pretty sure that's why the officer had stopped him at the door. Was this some sort of BDSM club?