Draco Malfoy

Hogsmeade part 2- having fun

"Hi, Draco", I greet him with, having walked across the uneven wooden floor across the tavern to meet him.
"Washington", he says, looking up at me. "Come to drink away your troubles, have you?",  he jibed, returning to fussing over his book. Draco wasted no time in digging into my soft spots, making a reference to an embarrassing occasion last Christmas where, at our Slytherin house party, I had a few too many shots of firewhiskey and accidentally unleashed all my emotional trauma on a group of fellow Slytherins who simply did not give a shit. I felt the shame shoot through me at the memory and tried my best to suppress the emotion as to not give Draco the reaction he wanted.

"Actually, Draco, this is a hot chocolate", I responded with a sarcastic smile, setting it down on the table and placing myself down on the bench, next to him. "What's that frilly book you're fussing over? A 101 guide on how to be an insufferable prat?", I probed. I have a terrible tendency to mirror how people act in a conversation, which, with Draco, results in me being equally foul to him as he is to me. Not taking kindly to my description of his book, he spat the words, "Oh yeah, terribly funny. Really witty. Anyway, you wouldn't understand it, being a Mudblood". This comment didn't really phase me as it wasn't hugely personal- it was honestly quite a lazy attempt to insult me.

I sighed. I was getting bored of this.

He looked at me as if to ask why I just made that noise, but obviously dismissed his brief feeling of inquisition as he turned his head back down to his book.

"Draco, is it not exhausting? Never having fun, I mean". That was a risky thing for me to say.

"What the hell do you mean by that?", he said, squinting at me.

"I mean... all you do is stress about things and bully people. Don't you ever just want to have a drink and chat to people or, I don't know, go for a nice walk or play a game?".
"That sounds like mind numbingly dull muggle behaviour. Besides, I play my own games". I knew exactly what he meant by that- mind games with people who call themselves his friends- but I wasn't going to let him talk about it.
So instead I said, "I promise if you just stopped caring so much about stuff that doesn't matter, you'd enjoy life a whole lot more". Draco didn't respond for a second and I thought he might be actually considering what I just said. Of course, his response proved my momentary thought wrong: "So what's your definition of fun? Getting pissed and playing scrabble?"

Honestly, he wasn't far off.

"Yeah, you should try it sometime. I'll order us some gigglewater", I joked.
"Go on, then." His response surprised me- I was only teasing. He added, "And I'll prove you that your idea of fun is actually no fun at all".

"Okay, Draco. You have yourself a bet. You show me your idea of fun and I'll show you mine." I challenged.
"Alright, Washington, let's see what you've got. How about the loser has to be the others' personal butler for a day?".
I scoffed at this; "No chance. You'd have me doing all sorts of dark stuff I don't want to get involved in".
"Call yourself a Slytherin, and yet you say that?!", Draco remarked. "Besides, did you just admit that I'd win?"
"Course not, you idiot. The bet's on, and my fun is starting."
With that, I sprung up from our seat and headed over to the bar. As I ordered an appropriate amount of giggle water for each of us, I looked over my shoulder at Malfoy and winked. It was a bold move, I'll admit, but it didn't mean much. He scoffed and looked away with ostentatious dismiss.

Returning with our drinks, I proudly set them down on the round table and followed the curve around to place myself where I sat before, on his left.

"Alright, then. Let the fun begin", I said to Malfoy with what felt like a mischievous smile. He challenged me to a drink downing competition, which I readily took up. Sadly though, he won. By miles.

The alcohol hit me pretty quickly, as well as the waves of giggles the drink so famously induces. I'd never really seen Draco laugh in such a way as he was then: it seemed so pure, and it was such a contrast to his usual malicious snickers. He seemed more relaxed than I'd possibly ever seen him; it was odd. I looked around the cozy pub we were in and giggled contently. Everyone looked happy and the room was spinning only slightly. My head felt a funny kind of fuzzy and I looked at Draco, smiling. "Having fun?", I asked.
"Not yet, Washington, this is boring", he joked. "Let's go and do something exciting. But to be perfectly honest with you I'm too sober right now, so I'm going to order us more drinks."
I was really finding this quite funny, and I watched him, amused, as he climbed up from his seat and headed towards the bar. While he was gone, I couldn't help but peek at the strange looking book Malfoy had been absorbed in when I arrived here. But it growled at me and I pathetically jumped a little, so I decided to leave it alone. Curiosity nagged at me, however, and I made a mental note to ask him about it later. I then found myself planning a funny response to greet him with on his return, and promptly after, mentally slapping myself for seeming to care. I sat, confused for a second, gazing at the round mahogany table in front of me, wondering why I suddenly seemed to care how I came across to him.

My gaze was interrupted by two ring- decorated hands placing two beautiful and intricate little glasses in front of me, filled with a gorgeous, deep auburn coloured liquid.

"Firewhiskey", I heard Malfoy say. "Think you can handle it?". It was less of a question than a challenge, and it was a challenge to which I responded by looking him firmly in the eyes. He sat down on the bench next to me and we simultaneously picked up our little glasses and turned to face each other. Draco lifted the decorated glass to his lips and I did the same. I took a breath before tilting the glass back, and my head back with it. The firewhiskey poured into my mouth and down my throat, and it burned. I swallowed, and felt its flaming aftertaste in the back of my mouth. Draco had just undergone the same experience as me, and we were both studying the others' face for a reaction to the fiery liquid. Satisfied that we had both passed the test with a sufficient lack of wincing, we put our glasses back down and I laughed.

It hits you hard, this drink. The room was spinning and everything Draco did was making me giggle.

Draco said to me, "Let's go and do something. I want to show you a place I know."

He grabbed his book, tucked it under his arm, stood up and I followed him. We weaved through the tables and people standing around, chatting. I put on my coat and braced myself for the cold outside. He looked back at me as if to check I was ready, and I smiled at him in affirmation. He turned back around and pulled the door open towards him. The gush of cold air was overwhelming and I instantly winced. We got a few dirty looks from the happy drinkers whose warmth we'd just stolen, and I laughed apologetically. We stepped outside into the fresh, snowy air and I looked up at the now dark sky. It was glittering with stars, and my breath danced in foggy snowflakes in front of me. My moment was broken by Draco's "Come on, let's keep moving, or we'll freeze". He wasn't wrong, and alcohol only protects you against the Scottish cold to a small extent.

"Where are we going?", I asked Malfoy. He only told me an unhelpful, "You'll see".