He Drowns in Margaritas
The magazine cover was nothing less than sexy. A boy was lying on his back with his shirt halfway unbuttoned. His blonde tresses were falling elegantly over his gray eyes as he gazed at the camera through his lashes with a taunting stare.
"Draco," Lucius grimaced at the magazine cover. "This is a bit too revealing, is it not?"
Draco looked at his father as if to say, "Are you kidding?"
Narcissa took the magazine from her husband and looked at it approvingly, "I think it's beautiful."
"I know, Mum," Draco leaned forward and gave his mother a quick kiss on the cheek, then he turned to his father and gazed at him questioningly. "What's wrong with it? It's the best photo shoot I've done."
"If you believe "your best" is gallivanting around and posing as a male prostitute, then by all means, continue," Lucius said icily.
"Lucius!" Narcissa snapped.
"And bear in mind that as your father, I too, am in the eye of the Wizard media," Lucius continued. "I am well-respected and in order for it to stay that way, you must clean up your act, Draco. And no, this is not only about that magazine cover," he said before Draco even opened his mouth. "Reports in the Daily Prophet say that you have been running the town with a great deal of girls. You are dubbed as a party animal. And I will have no son of mine looked down upon!"
"Honestly, Father," Draco rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Nobody looks down upon me. You know that."
"Don't roll your eyes, Draco. It's most unbecoming."
Draco sighed and slumped down against his chair. He squinted his eyes into a glare and focused on the floor.
"Love, don't frown like that," Narcissa reached out and smoothed her son's hair. "You'll get wrinkles at such a young age."
"I hardly think I'll get wrinkles at eighteen," Draco said.
"And that adds on to the hope that my son will stop with this modeling nonsense," Lucius cut in. "And maybe he will take on a more prominent role."
His wife gave him a reproving look and said sharply, "Let him be."
Lucius crossed his arms and murmured softly, "You spoil him, Narcissa."
Draco shifted his gaze from his mother to his father and then focused his eyes on the clock. He suddenly stood up, "I'm going out."
"It's ten thirty, Draco!" Narcissa whipped her head around.
"It's Friday, Mother."
"Let the boy go," Lucius changed his tone. "Let him make his rounds. And if he does not behave, it will be reported in the Daily Prophet. And if there is such a report, he may look forward to a wonderful punishment. Are we clear, son?"
"Crystal," Draco said briskly. "Good evening." He turned on his heel and walked out the door.
Blaise downed his martini in one huge gulp and then slammed his glass on the table. "Keep 'em comin'!"
Draco glanced around at the onlookers and waved at them politely, "Nothing to see here, people," he muttered under his breath. "Blaise, will you quiet down a bit?"
"Quiet— where's that— hic— Pansy Parkinson— did you hear?" Blaise slurred his words. "We— hic— broke up— she— broke up with— hic—me!"
"Yes, you told me that at least fourteen times," Draco said soothingly. "There are other women— Why, look! There's a pair of good-looking ones over there."
Blaise slowly turned to look over his shoulder. He paused then grimaced, "They look like— hic— mountain trolls."
Draco sighed and shook his head, "Really, Blaise. You're a mess, you know that? Clean up, come on," he reached over with a napkin and dabbed at his friend's face. "There you go. Almost as handsome as me."
Blaise looked at him with bloodshot eyes, then slumped over the table and fell asleep. Draco watched him with surprise wondering if it was even possible to fall asleep as quickly as that. He was just about to feel lonely at the lack of a companion when suddenly, into the room, came the last person he wanted to run into. Harry Potter… and company. Although it had been a year since they graduated from Hogwarts, the animosity was still present.
Draco bent over his drink a bit, thinking that if he drooped down, they wouldn't notice him. Unfortunately…
"That cover spread was absolutely gorgeous," Hermione Granger was smiling down at him. "Best one you did. I bought it."
"Thank you," Draco answered awkwardly. He was on good terms with Hermione seeing as though she had been the one who recommended him to the modeling agency. "And I see you're doing well. You should be a model yourself."
Hermione blushed and was about to respond but didn't, as she caught the look on Ron Weasley's face.
"Weasley. Potter," Draco said with forced politeness. "Hope you two are… well."
"We're quite well," Ron said snappily. "And I see that you and Zabini—" he cast a quick glance at the sleeping Blaise, "— are doing quite well yourselves."
"Got knocked out from the alcohol, did he?" Harry Potter asked in a snobbish sort of way.
"It really is none of your business, Potter. But if you must know," Draco began in a cool voice. "Pansy and Blaise went their separate ways. And I'm afraid to say that my comrade here has drunk himself into a deep depression which resulted in… slumber. I'm sure you understand the wonders of alcohol. Need I remind you of that unfortunate accident you and I had a while back—"
"I understand very well, thank you," Harry's lips parted into a sly smile. "During that time, it didn't seem quite unfortunate on your part."
"Ah," Draco returned the smile. "The tabloids had a field day."
"Will the pair of you shut up?" Ron shifted around uncomfortably. "I thought we all agreed to never speak of that… brief act of accidental homosexuality."
"The cause of margaritas," Draco nodded. "Quite accidental indeed. I apologize Weasley, for having brought up that event which haunts your dreams. I expect you wouldn't like seeing your best mate in some entangling position with me— and yes, that had a double meaning."
"Disgusting. We didn't go that far," Harry muttered. "And I am quite straight the last time I checked— Hello." He greeted a girl who tugged on his shirt sleeve for an autograph. The girl in turn looked to Draco and let out a shriek. Then she insisted on having a photo with both Draco and Harry.
"Will you please put your arms around one another?" the girl asked pleadingly.
"No," Harry answered briskly.
"Oh come now, Potter," Draco smirked. "With the many things we've done, I'm sure a hug isn't so terrible."
"It was just a kiss," Harry muttered through clenched teeth.
"Yes, doll," Draco grinned at the girl. "I'll put my arms around this brunette bombshell of mine— Please smile at the camera, Potter. Don't frown, you look like bloody murder."
Harry reluctantly put on a fake grin as Draco threw back his blonde hair and flashed a brilliant smile at the camera. The sight of two handsome men almost made the poor girl faint as she had to be escorted from the club by four of her friends. When she left, Harry whipped his head towards Draco.
"It was only a kiss, why are you making such a big fuss over it?"
"My dear boy," Draco shook his head. "Do you know how I love to see my own face in the paper, no matter the content being good or bad? And sharing a kiss with my equally famous rival, Harry Potter, is enough for my picture to remain in the papers for at least a month."
"Ugh," Harry grimaced. "You conceited bastard."
"Ho hum," Draco said in a bored voice. "I'm conceited though I'm no bastard. Now if you'll excuse me…" he stood up and slung Blaise's arm over his shoulder. "I'll take my friend home before we fall asleep here."
Harry looked as if he was having a mental war in his brain, "You've been drinking too, right? I'll drive the both of you home."
"Very gentleman-like of you, Potty," Draco chuckled. "I could kiss you all over again."
"Who was that in the driveway, son?" Narcissa was sitting at the coffee table as Draco walked in the front door. He pulled a chair beside his mother and collapsed on it.
"Tis Harry Potter," he answered with a slight drowsiness to his voice. "Took me and Blaise home. We packed on the margaritas tonight, is why."
"Draco, you know how your father feels about you hanging about with that boy," Narcissa said in a snappish tone. "And I feel the same way as well. He is nothing but trouble with all his talk about the mixing of Muggle blood with that of ours. And to add on to that, I did not particularly like that report in the Daily Prophet last month about your little drunken escapade."
"Old news, Mother," Draco said tiredly. "Don't fret your pretty head either, because I have no interest in him as a friend— or as a gentleman lover," he added as he saw the look on his mother's face. "I vow to only have drunken escapades with women and I vow to only have purebloods as friends. And Harry Potter does not fit either category. Have I made you happy, Mother?"
"No," Narcissa answered promptly. "First of all, you shouldn't be drinking at this age. I should put a leash on you. And second of all, I do not want you to have these… how you say… "drunken escapades" with anybody. It's dirty and displeasing. And third of all… Please make sure your father doesn't find out who drove you home."
"If you keep it a secret, then so shall I," Draco stood up and proceeded to walk up to his bedroom. "I'll see you in the morning, Mother."
"DRACO!" Lucius's angry voice rang up the stairs and straight into his son's room. "YOU COME DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!"
Draco opened his eyes groggily as he woke up to his father's shouts. Ignoring them, he rolled over to his side and attempted to go back to sleep.
"GET UP!" Lucius barged through the bedroom door. "Get up, you insolent boy!"
"Darling, don't…" Narcissa trailed helplessly behind her husband. "Please, he did not—"
Lucius threw down a rolled up Daily Prophet on Draco's bed, "Front page. Take a look."
Draco lazily sat up and opened the newspaper. The headline read Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter: Rivals or Lovers? And underneath was a photograph of Draco and Harry in the car, Draco was leaning over and giving Harry what looked like to be a kiss.
"Explain that," Lucius was red in the face. "Surely you and Potter did not get excessively drunk and decide to have another… exploration."
"Blaise and I had a few martinis. Blaise passed out and I was in no condition to drive," Draco explained. "So Mr. Potter here, being the do-gooder that he is, volunteered to drive us home."
"And the kiss?" Lucius hissed violently.
"It looks like a kiss, doesn't it?" Draco examined the picture with amusement. "I was merely flicking a bug from his hair— Father, I don't like men…I like women. Honestly, you really don't have to worry about my sexuality; I have my priorities straight in that department."
"I certainly hope so," Lucius said darkly. "And to clear up your name, you must mingle with respectable pureblood witches. None of that riffraff you've been taking about town."
"And you expect me to attend one of your— lovely parties," Draco said as a statement.
"Ah, you've read my mind," Lucius nodded. "Since you do not know how to clean up your act yourself, I shall do it for you. Get dressed."
"Father," Draco said with a bit of a whine as he collapsed back on his bed. "I'll have a sallow complexion if I don't get enough sleep. And as a renowned model, I must pay careful attention to my looks…"
"And as my son, you must pay attention to your life— as you might lose it if I lose my temper…"
Draco, recognizing defeat, rolled off his bed and reluctantly got dressed.
A blind date.
Draco couldn't believe it. His father set him up on a blind date.
"Father, I don't quite love you right now," Draco hissed through the corner of his mouth.
"She is a beautiful and respectable witch, I can assure you," Lucius said confidently. He looked up and smiled, "Ah, and here she comes accompanied by her mother— Draco, stand and greet them."
Draco stood up, though unwillingly, but kept his eyes downcast.
"Madame Eleanora Frivola, a pleasure it is to see you again," Lucius took the woman's hand politely and kissed it. "And how is your husband, Galen Frivola?"
"Galen is doing quite well indeed, thank you," Madame Eleanora answered, smiling. "And your wife, Narcissa?"
"In great health," he said. "She is looking younger everyday. Now we must proceed with this appointment."
"Indeed!" Madame Eleanora said exuberantly. "Allow me to present my daughter, Victoria Rose Frivola."
This time, Draco raised his eyes just in time to see and take in the features of the girl. She wasn't bad looking at all. But he wasn't interested in the least bit.
"And this is my son—" Lucius began, but Draco took a step forward.
"Malfoy," he grinned, taking Victoria's hand and brushing his lips against it. "Draco Malfoy." To be honest, Draco had no intention of even courting this girl the old fashioned gentlemanly way. He was more looking into seducing and eventually bedding her.
"Hello Draco," Victoria fluttered her eyelashes a bit.
Tsk, tsk… she only likes me because I'm famous… "Please have a seat— oh, allow me…" he pulled a chair for her and put on a huge fake grin.
Lucius seemed pleased with the way his son was acting, "Very good, Draco." He whispered.
If you only knew, Father. If you only knew…Draco smiled pleasantly. If all goes well, I'll probably just wriggle her skirt off…
Next, they engaged in rather boring conversation. Lucius drawled on about how his son was accepted into Hogwarts, placed in the House of Slytherin, appointed House Prefect, and how he became the Seeker on the Quidditch team. Okay, so that part of the conversation wasn't so boring. Draco loved hearing about himself.
"But wouldn't these two just make a lovely pairing?" Madame Eleanora beamed.
"Charming," Lucius said briskly. "Now what do you think, Draco… Draco?"
Draco wasn't paying attention. Why, oh why did Harry Potter have to walk in this restaurant during such an important meeting? That Scarhead always seemed to be everywhere these days. But right now, Draco would've preferred to be with Harry and his friends rather than the present company. Oh how he envied the way Harry, Ron, and Hermione were joking and laughing with each other. And here he was… stuck in what suspiciously seemed like a marriage arrangement.
"And when shall we set the wedding date?" asked Madame Eleanora as her daughter blushed violently
So it was a marriage arrangement!
"Excuse me? Wedding?" Draco sputtered. He sharply turned his neck to look at his father, "Wedding, Father?"
"It's a good and respectable pairing," Lucius said firmly. "Marriage will hold you down and put a halt to your party antics. And it will boost your name to marry into such a fine family as this one."
"Do not talk back."
"I don't know her—"
"It's not a request, Draco. It's an order."
Draco was getting frantic. He didn't want to get married. He didn't want a chain around his neck. He had to think of something… fast. That was when the stupidest idea dawned upon him.
"Harry! Darling! What a surprise!" Draco stood up and walked towards the table as he grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him in for a hug. "I didn't know we were going to be in the same restaurant! Why didn't you call me, you big silly man?"
Harry seemed to be frozen as he looked at Draco with his mouth hanging slightly open. Ron looked straight-out scared and Hermione looked a little confused.
"Well, aren't you going to give me a kiss?" Draco pouted a little.
"No—" Harry was about to say but Draco abruptly cut him off.
"Silly boy, always joking around— Come here," he yanked Harry's collar and pulled him into a big open-mouthed kiss.
Madame Eleanora shrieked and dropped her wine which crashed to the floor. Victoria let out a scandalized scream as she raised her hands to her mouth.
"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?" Lucius roared as he got to his feet.
"Father, I possibly cannot marry Victoria— not when I'm in love with Harry!" Draco said dramatically.
"This is an outrage!" Madame Eleanora abruptly stood up. "You are making a mockery of me, Lucius!"
"I assure you, Madame, that this is some sort of joke— I surely hope so, on my son's part!" he threw a very dark look towards Draco. "Please stay seated, we shall work this out."
"Nothing to work out, Father," Draco sighed heavily. "I've been hiding it from you, I have."
"You're crazy!" Harry shouted, wrenching his hand away from Draco. "I don't know what you're trying to do—"
"I'm trying to save us, love!" Draco said with utmost sincerity. "I can't bear to keep our relationship under the covers… even though that's where it is at its best, if you catch my drift…"
"I've heard enough," Madame Eleanora grabbed her daughter's hand as they both stomped off. "Good day, Mr. Malfoy."
Lucius looked as if he were ready to strangle everyone in the room. Funny thing is he didn't say a word. To Draco's surprise, his father just swept by him silently and walked out of the restaurant.
"That went well," Draco said simply. Then he turned to a dumbstruck Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "Very good acting on my part, wasn't it?"
Harry looked at him wide eyed, "What the hell, Malfoy!"
"Oh… the kiss? Oh I'm sorry. I believe it was the margaritas again," Draco said sympathetically.
"Margaritas my ass," Ron muttered.
"Oh fine, Weasley, you nosy brat, if you must know…" Draco drawled. "I was suppose to marry that mountain-troll-of-a-girl and I had to get out of it. I didn't have any ideas so I decided to pull a 'Hey, I'm gay!' act. Even though it's not true— Don't look at me like that. I was desperate. I wasn't even thinking."
"Daddy didn't look so happy," Ron snorted.
"Of course not," Draco rolled his eyes. "Now I must go back home and explain everything. Good day."
Harry got a knock on his door.
It was Draco. He was carrying many suitcases.
"Father kicked me out," he said monotonously. "Told me he had no room for a gay son and that since you are my "lover" I should go live with you. Tried to tell him that it was only a little joke but I didn't get the chance. He threw these suitcases at me and locked the door."
Harry stood there, trying to take in all the information.
"Well, move aside Potter."
Harry took a step back, still trying to process all he had heard.
"I really do hope he remembered to pack my blow dryer. I can't live without it."
And that is how Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy became roommates.
Fear not, readers. This is not like "Behind Closed Doors."