The Art of War

“Every one sees what you appear to be, few really know what you are.”
Niccolo Machiavelli, The Prince

Truro had everything to break from the lavish gloom of Malfoy Manor. The Elizabethan Manor that sat over the hill near prime hunting grounds and looking over the glistening beach in the distance, was one of many properties the family owned. Its softer edging and mullioned windows meant to allow great lengths of sunlight, made the property an utter delight to the senses.

A warm summer breeze welcomed them, bringing forth the scent of rich flowers and salt spray.

With the stables filled with the abraxans, the girls were ushered inside by an entirely muggle staff. A pair of maids took their bags away, and ushered them into a parlor to unwind, where a small bar awaited them along with some snacks.

"I could get used to this," Pansy looked around approvingly. "Tonight is all about having fun," she told the ladies. "Booze, food, perhaps a walk on the beach, and perhaps some patented daydream charms. Closest I could get to some male entertainment in exchange for the locale," she snickered at the last part.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Daydream Charms sound less messy," she chuckled.

Hermione had been surprised that Draco had allowed the little excursion, but he seemed determined to allow her as much of a 'normal' experience as he could. Which she was grateful for. The mark on her back had mainly healed. It was still tender to the touch, but it was much better now. The dresses were done. The venue and decor had been set. Now, it was just relaxing and unwinding before the ceremony.

A ceremony that made her more nervous the more time that went on. The way Malfoy looked at her made her feel like he wanted to eat her alive. There were a few upsides, like the fact he didn't try to dull her bite, wit, or fire. But she wasn't sure that would be enough. Eventually, the novelty of having her around would wear off and both of them would be infuriated that all of this occurred in the first place.

"Might have to plan the occasional girl's trip," she agreed with Pansy with a smile as she walked over to the bar, getting herself a glass of whiskey, not caring if it wasn't very ladylike. She was sure she'd have to be far too ladylike in public for the rest of her life. "I am completely fine with it being a daydream charm," she chuckled softly.

The last thing she wanted was for Draco to find out and be enraged that someone else might have touched his witch.

At that, the raven-haired woman with a bob grinned. "That I can definitely arrange, plus who knows, you might need to tap in for both of our weddings someday," she teased. She didn't think she'd get hitched any time soon, but she liked to keep her options open.

"Yes, she definitely would make a great bridesmaid someday," Daphne smiled. "But this weekend is all about you," she told Hermione easily. "I helped plan a spa day tomorrow," she gave Pansy a look.

A small smile curved her lips at that, and she couldn't help but chuckle. "Perhaps. Though I think something that Daphne or I planned might be a little more tame than your tastes," she teased just a moment before taking a sip of her whiskey and glancing over at Daphne.

"Thank you. The pampering will certainly be nice." Not that Draco didn't dote on her. She half expected random gifts to show up here as well. Just so he could make a point.

Pansy sighed. “Guess I’ll just have to never marry,” she brought a glittery drink that promised a fruity ease to it while packing a punch. “Then I can just have fun,” she added with a small smile.

Daphne shook her head and settled on a glass of white elven wine. “I thought so, especially if Pansy is planning on getting us wrecked tonight.” She sipped daintily at the crystal coupe in her hand.

“I do. We’ve been traveling all day. Tonight is about letting go. Tomorrow is about pampering and then coming back to reality. So until then, I say we enjoy. We have an entire Malfoy property to indulge in. We can swim on the private beach and run through the forest. There are absolutely no limits,” she reminded.

Hermione wasn't so sure there were absolutely no limits, but she wasn't about to be a killjoy. If anything happened here, she'd be incredibly surprised, considering the ample wardings that Malfoy seemed to have on every one of his properties. Soon to be their properties. It was still a startling thought. One that had her pause before she took another sip of whiskey.

"Utter abandon now, pampering and trying not to fall asleep while getting pampered tomorrow, and then actually preparing for the wedding. At least I won't have circles under my eyes for the ceremony," she said, trying to joke a little bit, but nervousness kept spiking each time she thought about it.

"I have a miracle worker if you want for the wedding," Pansy said. "She can make Millicent look like, well something Pucey might fuck, but seriously," she said over her glass. "Her beauty charms are hard to beat, and I'm sure I can get her for you and maybe your bridesmaids," she winked at the last part.

Daphne turned. "Are you talking about who I think you are?" she asked. "That witch has a waitlist."

"You think the future Mrs Malfoy has to wait on a list?"

"That's...a fair point," she paused. "She does do amazing work. She charms my hair every six weeks to have that perfect wave..." Daphne sighed. "Never had anything hold that long before."

She nearly snorted, shaking her head. "While as impressive as that sounds...I don't think I need anything near that intense. Nor do I want my hair pin-straight for nearly that long," she murmured. She liked the odd wave that occasionally came from her hair potions. Or the gentle bounce of them that didn't frizz. It all depended on the combination of potions.

Her hair was a volatile thing that she learned to maintain through trial and error. And she certainly didn't want her make-up charmed on to stick through...anything that Draco might have up his sleeve. That thought alone had a faint blush color her cheeks that she took another sip of whiskey to try and ignore. No. She doubted anything that extreme would be necessary.

"She does curls, too. You could have beautiful beach waves," she reminded. "With little to no frizz... for weeks," she added. "Just can't touch it for 24 hours," she remembered the warnings she'd gotten during her short but memorable curled phase. "But totally up to you. Thankfully, I have an appointment on Tuesday. I could use a few refreshers."

Daphne perked a brow. "Like?"

"These lashes don't curl and fluff themselves," she shrugged. "I like a few enhancements that save me the daily work."

That shouldn't have surprised Hermione, but she wasn't sure if she wanted that or not. Chewing at her bottom lip, she let out a sigh. "Fine. Send her a message and see if she'd be willing to do a few hair charms for me and my bridesmaids," she said. What was one more bill for the wedding of the decade?

All eyes were going to be on her, and at least then she could deflect to another witch, so they'd want to talk about what the beauty charmer could do.

Pansy would do so first thing in the morning. For now, she wanted to relax. "Consider it done," she grinned. "Might throw her at Bulstrode if she's going to attend..." It angered her that she'd opted for violence over other manners of living, but then she couldn't blame her. She'd never truly fit in, not with the other girls, barely did with the guys.

Daphne tried not to laugh, sipping her drink as she attempted to remain placid on the topic. "Good luck," she told Pansy. "So, any pre-wedding jitters?" she asked. "Anything we can help assuage," she smiled.

Hermione smiled a bit more before shaking her head. "Don't even attempt it. Let Bulstrode do what she will. I really don't care how she looks at my wedding," she drawled. If she attended, she was sure there would be some who claimed they couldn't attend for whatever reason. And there would be more that showed up to see if she was under the thrall of the imperius curse or not.

Taking another sip of her drink, she tried not to fidget before taking a seat rather than standing, crossing one leg behind the other. "Lots of pre-wedding jitters...sadly, nothing that you ladies can help me with," she shrugged and then glanced down at the ring.

"If you insist," Pansy sighed. She had an inkling of who would come. Anyone that was marked would, that she was sure of, and if they didn't, they'd likely wish they'd sucked it up. It was the reality of their world. "You sure about that?" she asked.

"I see how he looks at you, keeps you close," Daphne said gently. "There's definitely more there than the initial drabble being pushed out," she smiled.

"I do insist," she chuckled slightly. Millicent could deal with whatever it was she did, and if she screwed up, that wasn't her fault. But she lifted a brow. "I'm rather certain that you can't," she stated. "Not a reflection on either of you. I promise."

It was more of a reflection on this whole mess. Finishing her whiskey, she summoned the bottle and poured a bit more in her glass rather than get back up to go to the bar. "He looks at me as any doting fiancé should look at their betrothed," she said offhand, trying to wave it off. Since they were pushing a story of star-crossed love through the war, she wasn't about to touch what Daphne said.

"He looks at you like he could devour you alive," Pansy said, sipping her drink as another appeared on the small table beside her seat of choice. "But yes, he is also very doting."

Daphne shook her head. "I mean," she blushed. "It's certainly more than just doting," she agreed.

At that, she flushed a bit more and drank more of the whiskey. "...He does certainly look at me like that," she admitted, remembering just how his voice sounded when he tried to tease her when he was giving her that look. Dominant insatiable man that he was.

"The man is...a lot," she murmured, unable to stop blushing. Even though she wished she could.

At that, Pansy couldn't help a laugh. "A lot is an understatement, but then I knew him back at Hogwarts..." It was no secret that they had been a pair. They'd certainly done things, enough for her to get a gist of what he was like, and then sixth year had torn them apart in that sense. "Certainly filled out since Hogwarts," she smirked.

Daphne gave a swat towards Pansy. "You're a lot too, you know," she reminded. "Ignore her unless you want to learn something naughty or whatnot." She flushed. It wasn't like she'd had many partners, and sure, Draco had been one of them, and that had been pretty final.

Hermione flushed a bit at that and cleared her throat, shaking her head. "...I'm not sure if teenage him and adult him could compare...and that is not an invitation to exchange notes." She was not about to kiss and tell with one of his exes...two rather if intel was correct. She hadn't wanted to know who her enemy was sleeping with, but the information might have been substantial.

Pansy chuckled. “I may be crude but not crass,” she assured. That didn’t mean she had no room for when they were properly smashed to help curate racy items for whatever Hermione may envision for her future, but not yet.

Taking a deeper drink from her whiskey, she sighed. "It's not like I'm a blushing maid, Daphne...even if I am blushing." It wasn't like Malfoy was her first. If he had been, that would have been far too much in the name of the cause.

Daphne flushed. “I guess I’m a clueless romantic.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. Her mother had warned her she likely wouldn’t find what she wanted in life if she didn’t toughen up. “I’m not judging; I just… is it so bad to want intimacy without, you know, everything else…” she sighed. “I doubt I’ll find that in anyone my parents would approve,” she muttered. And yet Hermione gave hope for a different storyline in her future. She would have said as much, but blood status or not, her new friend was Malfoy’s bride-to-be. There was no point running her tongue to be branded a traitor.

"That is reassuring," she chuckled, sipping at the whiskey, needing that bit of bracing of herself before she glanced at Daphne. She offered a small smile and gave a shrug of her shoulders. "Nothing wrong with romance. Was just meaning that I don't think there are any naughty things that would scandalize me," she offered, which wasn't entirely true but better not to test it.

Hermione wished she could be reassuring. But there was very little she could say. Her marriage was about to be a loveless one. Draco was possessive with her, and they had amazing sexual chemistry, but that did not equate to love. There had been an odd intimacy in sharing his bed to sleep, but she didn't read too much into that. "You might just surprise yourself. I didn't think I'd be here after all," she offered as her only reassurance. More people deserved love.

Pansy shrugged. "Romance is more often than not just a way of luring." There was a sting to her words like she'd experienced the deception firsthand. Honesty was better in her books, but she had once been like Daphne. A long time ago. then she'd grown up, and she hadn't looked back. "Plus, who needs a man? There's so much more out there," she smiled and paused.

Daphne offered Hermione a small smile. "I suppose life does have interesting twists and turns," she sighed. It wasn't like she didn't have her crushes here and there, but nothing she could act on. Not openly. "Yes, yes, Pansy, we all know you like to say you do it better yourself anyways," she rolled her eyes, cheeks flushed from the elven wine.

She shook her head with a slight smile. "Romance can be just as honest...just depends on who does it and why," she offered with a shrug and glanced down into her glass, swirling the whiskey in her glass as she thought. The romance she received was likely only to be from her books now. At least as long as neither of them got bored, she wouldn't have to worry about being sexually unfulfilled.

"Men have their uses," she chuckled, blushing a little as she said it, relaxing back into her seat. This was a little easier than she would have thought, even if she still had to keep up her role.

“That they do,” she grinned. Even unmarried, her friend's fiancée was proving useful. “I hope your wizard model brings you years of happy endings and the ability to respond to his failures with spite. My great-grandmother once built a carriage house on their property to spite her husband. Just so she could house the staff he didn’t want in the house.” Pansy wasn’t beneath sharing tales of pettiness that might inspire.

“My mother apparently had a nude portrait done when she was young. She has it hanging in her bedroom to spite my father,” she chuckled. “Cursed it there and everything. It’ll still hang long after she passes…” she shook her head.

Hermione nearly choked on her drink and couldn't help but laugh at that. It was the first time she had genuinely laughed since she had been dragged into Malfoy Manor again. But it was nice. Pansy wasn't as bad as she remembered her being. Or perhaps she was less strict on what made good and bad people. "Your great-grandmother sounds like a smart woman....I'll remember that and try to react accordingly if needed." Malicious compliance was always something she could do, after all.

"To spite him?" Weren't fidelity vows pretty standard, or were they now the exception? She wasn't sure. However, it felt like she was asking something far too personal about someone else's parents.

“Oh yes, the artist had it placed in auction after Astoria started her education at Hogwarts. My father was livid. Tried to buy it. Mother outbid him, and he hoped to make her see reason, and well, that ended poorly.”

“I bet she made him beg for months to see her naked again,” Pansy laughed.

Daphne flushed. “She used to say he could always go to her chambers if he needed a fix. Took me a while to understand why he’d go alone.”

Hermione actually blinked a few times at that, surprised at it all. This was a level of psychological and mental warfare she wouldn't have thought of—something to keep in mind for the future, she supposed.

"Well, that's one way to get one over on a husband...."

“If you ever need ideas or allies,” Pansy grinned. “Malfoy might be a friend, but he’s merely a man,” she sighed. “Us ladies need to stick together.”

"I'll keep that in mind. He's been quite the gentleman so far. Even if the man looks like he wants to eat me alive more than half the time." It still surprised her. The weight of his gaze and just how badly he seemed to want her.

Daphne smiled. “Our mothers often said that when we had play dates,” she looked at Pansy. “Was simpler then, when you were just an obnoxious kid demanding too many rules for every game…”

“At least I didn’t tattle,” she shot bag, but their playfulness was clear as day.

Trying not to laugh at that banter between them, she smiled just a little bit, though she felt that bitter guilt hit her in the gut again. The two people she bantered with like this the most she'd likely never see again. It had her looking down into her drink as she tried to compartmentalize, even as she felt her stomach knot. Ron died because of you. Your parents would be so proud. Mrs. Weasley's voice echoed in her head, and she downed the rest of the whiskey in her glass again.

At the word gentleman, Pansy snorted. “They’re all gentlemen when it can be witnessed,” she rolled her eyes. “I’ve been on the other side of horny, but man, I might have to go traveling to find that look. Maybe Durmstrang has some not-so-recent graduates that skipped the goatee phase,” she licked her lips. “You know, Phee, you might want to go to France if you want a little wine and dining. Just remember they invented the trip à trois,” she drawled.

Daphne sipped her glass dry, cheeks flushing a deep red.

It had Pansy spit her drink. “You did not.”

“Once. It was not my finest hour. I was drunk. Not talking about it.” The words were more of a mass than a sequence of small sentences. “But France might be a venture to consider. Paris is the city of romance…at the very least, I’ll eat well.”

Trying not to fidget, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, almost twirling the strand around her finger. "Can honestly say that I've never been better taken care of than I've been taken care of now. And that's all I'll say on that," she added. Even if Draco weren't the perfect gentleman all of the time, or even the kind of gentleman she would have pictured herself marrying...it could be worse. "Durmstrang men are an experience," she added with a little bit more of a smile.

Even if it was rumored she had been with Krum at Hogwarts, she knew that a lot of people didn't realize she was with him after the fact. Or that he helped with the insurgency at all. At most, he did "charity work," but she wasn't going to get into that aspect of it.

Looking over at Daphne, she whistled softly at that. "Well....that's unexpected. But as long as you had a good time, that's all that matters. France would be a nice change of scenery. Might get you all wooed."

A soft hum left Pansy’s lips. “Krum was an experience huh,” she bit in her lower lip. “Might have to start there. I do so appreciate certain qualities of quidditch players. Strength, stamina…” she sighed. “Unless you mind,” she added. “Don’t want to overstep.”

Daphne was a bit surprised at that, glad the attention was off of her. It had been good, just incredibly awkward. Not what she’d have expected. “That's why you cover sports?” She chuckled.

That had her blink a few times, surprised that Pansy would ask, but she shook her head. "They do tend to be rather strong...Just don't expect a lot of conversation from Krum...I don't mind. Was only ever just flings," she offered with a shrug. It was an understanding they had. An understanding that apparently Wood hadn't been okay with considering those memories.

"If that's why you cover Quidditch, I can't blame you. Just avoid Keepers. Tend to be rather greedy," she drawled, resisting the urge to pour another whiskey.

“Now I need to find an excuse to find Viktor,” she mused. A quiet man with no commitment. He might as well have been wooing her. “Talking is overrated.”

“More like you rather do the talking,” Daphne pointed. “I don’t know about you, but I think I want to walk on that beach. Too much sitting has happened,” she griped gently with a stretch.

Well, at least she knew Viktor wouldn't be lonely. And while that wouldn't get him any intel, it would help his cover. That was one person she didn't have to worry about. Not that she thought Draco would have helped there. Any potential "ex" of hers wouldn't be spared if he had his way. And her asking would have likely had him think there was something between her and Viktor.

Moving to stand up, Hermione stretched a little bit herself and ruffled her hair. "A walk sounds great."

After polishing off her drink, the darker-haired woman rose onto her heels. "You guys start. I have to cast a few charms," she looked at her heels. No, she wasn't going to forego the added height. Not when she'd perfected a number of spells to assist in moving on a variety of terrains.

Daphne had to shake her head to avoid rolling her eyes. "Honestly," she sighed, moving towards the door, glad for her small wedges that had more in common with flats than heels. It wasn't like she had any need to impress in that manner, and being fairly tall herself, she didn't need the added height.

"Haven't been in Cornwall in years," Daphne sighed. "We used to lease a cottage by the sea," she smiled. "Sometimes Astoria and I would..." she left the thought hanging. No, there was no need to explain some of their more dangerous outings. "It was nice to steal away in the night."

Glad of the flats she was in rather than the heels, Hermione simply put her glass down and tried not to laugh at that, shaking her head as she followed after Daphne easily enough. At least it would be nice and warm outside rather than it being cold. They'd be able to enjoy the night.

"It's been a while since I've had much downtime," she said simply, without building upon that at all. Talking about her family would just make that pit in her stomach even worse. It would be so easy to run. Apparate away and escape all of this. But then she absolutely would die if anyone found her, and she'd be constantly on the run with no resources. A soft sigh left her lips as they stepped outside.

"Now that you have time, you can do things with it," she reminded. "Healers are in high demand," she said with a bit of a chuckle. She tried to keep it light, but if she were honest, the need for what she was slowly and discreetly studying certainly wasn't a happy one.

There were loads of jobs that were begging to be filled. Portions of the Ministry, although controlled by the Dark Lord, still had legitimate purpose. "Cursebreakers too," she added gently. Daphne couldn't help but feel that Hermione needed that adrenaline rush.

"I suppose I can," she stated, walking along with her. Glancing up at the stars above, she smiled slightly to herself. It felt nice outside. Felt nice not to have to run around trying to keep hidden or try to find supplies. "Not sure if I would want to be a healer...I can manage it well enough, but it's never been something I enjoyed doing," she offered, not putting down the profession at all.

Cursebreaking would remind her of Bill. Of the family she had once almost had. The family that likely hated her now. "Perhaps."

Daphne shook her head. She was being pushy again, and guilt crept on her cheeks. "I mean, you have time," she offered. "Heck, you can vacation for the rest of your days with the family you're marrying into," she smiled. Not all families were so lucky. Pansy had been hard working for a reason, and though the Greengrasses certainly were well off, it wasn't the case for every family out there.

That thought didn't sit well with her either. She wasn't sure what she'd do. She was far too determined to just sit around and keep a house for the rest of her days. She wanted to research and travel and get things accomplished, but she had no idea what could be problematic or not. "I do....but I honestly don't know exactly what I want to do...."

"And you have an entire lifetime to decide that," Daphne supplied gently. "You're not on the run, and I don't think anyone expects you to have all the answers," she promised. Perhaps she was off the mark, but she certainly wasn't going to hold back if it meant giving her friend hope. As trivial a sentiment as it could sometimes be.

Not on the run. Those words rang in her head for a moment, and while they did give her hope, they also filled her with guilt. Luna still had to run back and forth. Harry was in hiding. And people she thought she could trust had betrayed her because she wasn't as efficient as they wanted her to be. "I can only hope no one expects me to have all the answers. I'm smart, but I don't think I could know the answers to everything." She tried to make it a joke, to try and make it easier to manage. Otherwise, she'd overthink it like she overthought everything.

Daphne chuckled. “You have always been really smart,” she agreed. “I did enjoy our few collaborations in Ancient Runes,” she added. Years had passed, but she had never held any ill will for Hermione Granger. It was a sentiment she needed to convey.

A smaller smile curved her lips at that, and she glanced over at her. "We worked well together when we were grouped together. You're rather brilliant yourself."

Daphne felt like she glowed as she smiled. It wasn’t often she received praise for merit rather than some menial reason. It felt better from the woman at her side.

Before Daphne could add anything, Pansy was catching up to them. “Did I miss anything?” She beamed.

Hermione smiled a bit more naturally at just how brightly Daphne smiled. The young woman was alright. Even Pansy might actually grow on her. As long as she stayed in the role she was meant to play.

"Just reminiscing about school," she chuckled, not going into the details while still saying what it was they spoke about.

The Manor felt absolutely wrong with her out of it. Where it should have made it easier for him to focus on the tasks at hand, he had to trust her with two women who had tried to bid for the title of Mrs Malfoy, and he had no one but himself to blame. His mind mocked him. They could be bridesmaids. He scolded himself and steeled his resolve. After two nights of doing His bidding, he hadn’t expected Theo and Blaise’s company to turn into something…normal.

Nothing had been normal, and being one of the most feared wizards had done nothing to make it so. They could fly. Could turn into ominous black clouds of terror, but the other two had produced three brooms instead.

“Last wizard flying?” Theodore offered, handing a map with a series of pubs.

Draco raised a brow. “What the hell is this?”

"You didn't seriously expect us to let you get married without throwing you a stag party, did you?" Blaise offered with a roll of his eyes before he glanced over at Theo. "I feel as though we should be genuinely offended."

He straightened his own shirt, his broom in hand along with Draco's. "You deserve a break—nothing too crazy...just racing to a few pubs. Whoever gets there last pays for the round. Unless you're just wanting your betrothed to have all the fun before your nuptials."

It was something that he felt would be agreeable to both of them. He had noticed that Draco had allowed the witches to go with the condition that there be no wizards or men. It had taken some of the wind out of Pansy, but Blaise would have bet money she would have absolutely gotten the other two drunk and encouraged them to hook up with whatever guys she had brought. So no women for Draco either. Fair play and all that. Apparently, they were going traditional with their vows.

The blond blinked. Giving his soon-to-be wife a weekend in Cornwall was just a way to keep her protected, at bay, to give her a semblance of normalcy. He hadn't expected the same. This was calculated. Orchestrated. Whether he felt anything for her or not didn't matter.

Simple. Very much like their earlier days. "If you were both so keen on buying rounds, you didn't need to pick something you're both so fucking terrible at," he scoffed. Taking a former quidditch player out for a race. Even inebriated, they didn't stand a chance.

"I swear if any kind of stripper comes out, I'll have you on manual cleaning duty for the foreseeable future." A few months of cleaning the blood out of the various fabrics at the manor would be painful with how often the liquid spilled in his ancestral home. It was more often an occurrence than not, even with her there.

"We're not that terrible at it," Theo tried to argue, pretty sure the only way he'd win would be if both of the other men got completely tossed, but it was a possibility.

Blaise snorted. "Correction. I'm not that terrible. You are pretty bad at it, Theo. Good thing you won some money off me and have more money than sense."

He dodged a swipe at him with a grin before he looked over at Draco and actually lifted a brow. "After the warnings you gave Pansy about strippers or men near Granger, we thought racing and drinks were the best bet. No strippers. Swear." Though if their best mate had married Parkinson or either Greengrass sister, they might have attempted it.

For a moment, he seemed to consider their proposition and everything. What had he really planned to do other than potentially hinder Lauren more than assist her? She would be safe. They'd accomplished their last mission. For all intents and purposes, they did have the night off.

Draco nodded once, the only warning he gave them before mounting his broom. "Guess I'll see which one of you can keep up," he grinned, heading over the thick forest landscape behind his home towards the first pub on the map. It was only a fifteen-minute ride, he had every intention of making it in ten, which his Firebolt could easily manage.

As soon as Draco snatched and mounted the broom, Blaise cursed before he mounted up and kicked off the ground, taking off after Malfoy and hearing Theo cursing behind them both as he tried to keep up. He actually laughed, feeling a bit of that expectation fall away for a moment. While racing like this, over the forest near Malfoy Manor and on the way to the pubs, they were just themselves. And Draco would smoke them for at least the first two to three pubs.

Theodore cursed. He had been shit in flight. Didn’t help that he had a Firebolt in hand courtesy of Pucey. Shit. The thing was fast, and the dirty blond clung to that handle like it was life itself as he zoomed forward, hitting soft branches on his way over the trees.

Draco cackled, hearing the branches behind them. Zabini had a chance maybe, but Theo? He’d be done his first drink by the time he caught up. He could feel it as he leaned forward, the wind batting his cheeks. For a second, he felt like he was hunting down a snitch, following a glimmer in the distance. A simple kind of thrill he'd all but forgotten about.

Blaise leaned forward on his broomstick, trying not to laugh as he heard Theo snapping branches behind. He called over his shoulder without taking his eyes off of his own path. "Lift up some, Nott! Might not be a Whomping Willow, but it'll still sting!"

It was the only piece of advice he would give as he pushed his own broom faster. Another Firebolt he had borrowed from one of the former Quidditch players. He might not beat Malfoy there, but he wouldn't be last. He could deal with not being in last.

Draco parked his broom outside the first establishment. A small hole in the wall that catered to wizards. Spotting a table, he moved to sit at it, ordering three glasses of Dragon Barrel Brandy. It seemed only fair that the first one got to pick the libations.

About four minutes after Draco, Blaise arrived and parked his broom outside as well before striding in with a chuckle. "And here Theo thought your time off a broom might have made you rusty," he smirked as he took a seat at the table.

Draco ran a finger around the lip of his glass. “Theo better find someone to fly him if he plans to survive,” he retorted, mirth in his tone. He wasn’t kidding, either. Pucey probably loaned the broom just to watch Theo return hurt. It was equally annoying and amusing. “Never understood why you never tried out for Quidditch…”

Blaise picked up his glass and couldn't help but chuckle, shaking his head. "He'll manage to survive....he might just be scraped up at the wedding. We have a healer on standby, right?" He teased his best mate just a little bit before he thought about that. "What? And risk damage to this handsome face? Bad enough you risked your own. You managed alright. But Pucey and Flint?" He clucked his tongue and shook his head with a grin.

Draco shook his head. “You sound like your mother,” he taunted. “They had a face only a mother could love from the beginning…” He swallowed down the liquid to quell a laughter. He could taste the strength of it, the kind that came with 150 years of aging.

It took seven minutes more for Theo to arrive, winded and scraped.

“Hope y’all aren’t done drinking,” he grumbled, sitting down to take a sip and nearly choked on it.

"Well, didn't want to ruin perfection," he drawled with a smirk before taking a sip of his own drink, enjoying the strength of that brandy. Looking up when Theo arrived, he had to try not to laugh at the scrapes and how winded he was.

He shook his head. "Not done yet. But that does have the first round on you, Theo," he chuckled before drinking a bit more.

"And you'll need to catch up," Draco drawled, motioning to the empty chair, and the drink sat in front of him. "I might be inclined to take my time if either of you wants to rush off in hopes of an edge," he added with a chuckle. They were all Slytherins, after all; their friendship had endured this far.

Theo took a deep drink, and his eyes widened at the taste in his mouth. It was much more potent than the regular Firewhiskey. Shit. He polished it off. "I'm not the one that needs to catch up," he went straight to the counter to pay the tab and was out the door. He'd need every second. Even if he heard Malfoy's roar of a laughter following him out.

Blaise drank more of the brandy, enjoying it momentarily before he gave that offer to Theo and he groaned. "Why'd you have to go and do that?" He teasingly complained as he watched Theo down the rest of his brandy, pay for their drinks, and then dart out the door. He shook his head with a laugh.

"I almost feel bad," Draco grinned at Blaise.

"Almost? We both know that one of us will likely have to have him on our broom home at this rate. I doubt him downing drinks that quickly is going to do him any favors," he drawled before he finished off his own brandy. "But in the off chance he does manage to get to the next one first."

He wasn't about to miss out on an opportunity to beat Draco to the next pub. He knew he was beating Theo. He smirked as he went out and mounted back up, racing after Theo with a cackle.

Draco chuckled. One of them would likely have to drag Theo home, and for one night, it could feel like old times, in simpler days, where drinking and flying were the worst of their concerns. Now, it was just a reckless activity. One enemy at the right place at the right time was all it would take. It reminded him of a game the muggles played. One bullet, nine slots, and the wheel of fortune. He almost envied its existence. You couldn't cock a wand with an avada kedavra and give someone a one-in-nine chance. Honestly, he'd learned interesting tactics from torturing their higher-ranking officials of their military...

Slowly finishing his drink, he followed them out after offering them a six-minute head start.

I had taken less than three to catch up to poor Theo. He'd even lazily hung beside him for a moment.

"Hopefully, you can hold your liquor, Nott, or this will turn out to be a short night," he drawled.

Theo glanced over at Draco and attempted to keep the broom going faster. Despite it still being the best model on the market to date, he couldn't accelerate as quickly as his friends could without nearly falling off the damn thing.

"My liquor doesn't require me to hold on so tightly I get splinters," he said just loud enough to be heard, mostly joking. But he could see Blaise up ahead, even if he was still a bit behind him.

He knew better than to look back and sacrifice a lead. It felt normal. Like what they had pictured, their lives would have been like right out of Hogwarts rather than all of them sporting the same tattoo on their arm. He had no clue what his best mate was planning, but he was willing to support whatever it was. There was no way that pulling Granger into it wasn't some sort of tactical move, even if he did notice the way his best mate looked at her. Poor sod.

Draco rolled his eyes and moved forward and onward. He could spot the end of Blaise's broom. It was hard to believe that less than five years had passed since the fall of the statute. Their nighttime flight was no longer the frowned-upon illegal act it had once been.

"So what drink were you thinking if you made it there first?" he called to Blaise, not quite caught up to him.

Shit. He had not expected Draco to gain that quickly. But he supposed he should have anticipated it. Despite people thinking he had bought his way onto the Slytherin team, he actually did have a talent for it. The brooms had only been a way for his best mate to ensure he got the spot. As if there had been any doubts.

"Beetle Berry Whiskey, I think. Since you already started us off with brandy," he called over before leaning down, accelerating the broom a bit more as he kept the path to the next pub.

That didn't sound bad at all, and even if he did make it there second, Theo was still picking up the tab. That didn't mean he'd make it easy on Blaise by any means. Still, he took a moment to breathe in the night air, the crisp scent of trees as they flew over familiar stretches of land. Some still bore the marks of devastation, like scars on their motherland. Others had grown back with a vengeance, like the squabbles of mortals had nothing to do with their growth. He knew though he could keep back and allow Zabini his win, he also couldn't. Not so soon.

Eventually, he took the lead and parked his broom. He lingered for a moment before setting foot inside an old pub he used to visit with his father. It took a flight of stairs before he found a seat for them, and when he did, he waited.

The focus he needed to try and make sure he could stay ahead of Draco was substantial. He couldn't even hear Theo at the moment, but he was willing to bet that the poor man had likely hit more branches. The man was going to need a healer by the end of the night. Or at least some bandages. As soon as Draco took the lead, he groaned and cursed, landing just a minute or two after Draco did.

He parked the broom and followed after Draco, going up a flight of stairs to join Draco there at the table, shaking his head with a groan. "I'm starting to get the feeling that perhaps even drunk we really don't stand a chance."

"Three pints," he told the waitress. "And a single shot of Beetle Berry Whiskey," he added with a grin.

The redhead smiled and nodded before fetching their drinks.

"This was your idea," he reminded. "I'm...just here for the ride and apparently the free booze." It was certainly more entertaining than he'd envisioned his night to be. Where he seldom allowed himself to get smashed, he had every intention of stumbling into his bed, likely still dressed and sporting a migraine the next morning.

The single shot of beetle berry whiskey had him raise a brow with a bit more of a grin before he leaned back in his own seat. "It was. Couldn't let you sulk around the house and not have a proper stag party. Not nearly as wild as something we might have envisioned when we were younger....but your witch will likely appreciate that."

He had seen the way the two of them looked at each other. Even if they didn't notice it yet themselves, they were going to likely fight and scream and rail against it, but he could already tell there was something more than just the convenience they were selling.

"Already have hangover potions prepped and ready for tomorrow morning."

Theo and the drinks arrived, and Draco took the single shot. They would need every advantage they could get, and honestly, he wanted not to think.

"At least it'll keep the blistering headaches at bay," Theo grumbled, taking a seat and bringing his beer to his lips.

Setting the small glass down, he looked at Zabini. "And what's that suppose to mean?" he demanded. She'd appreciate he hadn't gone to a club the likes he had fucked her in?

At that question, Theo looked between the pair. He'd obviously missed something.

Blaise narrowed his eyes jokingly at his friend as he took the single shot of whiskey. But he picked up his pint and took a sip of his drink.

"I'm more worried about painkillers for you, Theo," he mumbled, already gesturing to his hand that had a cut on the back of it.

The demand from Draco, though, had him pause, taking a longer drink of his pint. "Well, you didn't want her around other guys. I'm sure she appreciates the fair play. Granger has much more of a temper than I would have guessed at," he offered, not saying what he wanted to say. But at least that was also truthful.

Theo drank some of his beer, grumbling at that. He wasn't touching the trainwreck that was his friend and his fiery bride.

Draco perked a brow and shrugged. Her temper hadn't come as a surprise, not since third year. "Get used to it. She'll be with us for the foreseeable future," he quipped. For better or worse. It was a risk, but a calculated one.

At that, Theo wanted to down his beer and do a repeat, but his limbs needed a moment. "I don't think anyone's complaining," he shrugged. Of course, some were, but that was a problem for another day.

"None of us are complaining about your bride," he agreed with Theo easily enough and took a sip from his beer, knowing better than to push too far. "She'll be able to keep up with your wit. That's all I can really ask for."

Draco would not have done well with a woman who was simpering for him and entirely what wizarding society would have expected out of his bride. Which was part of why he thought they worked so well. Finishing the beer, he ordered another round of the same for them. It wasn't as strong as the brandy. Two drinks here would be fine.

"Plus. We get to keep the cat," he made a slight joke out of it with that. Crookshanks seemed to have adapted to everything much more quickly than his owner.

Draco sipped his beer. "Considering I'm marrying her for her wit," he reminded and left the statement at that. Honestly, sometimes he wondered if his friends had been tortured one too many times. Yes, Granger was pleasant on the eyes, felt even better on his cock, but there was a point to his madness.

At those words, Theo glanced at Blaise over his beer. Clearly, not quite believing it was purely transactional, as both of them seemed to be claiming. "Cat's pretty cool," he agreed. Crookshanks seemed a safer topic.

Blaise nodded his head. "Clearly, not just a regular cat. Probably part Kneazle." He offered to Theo, though he looked at Draco without saying a word. Though it was a look that he had shared with Draco before. Often. A silent claim that he knew there was more going on than what his best mate told him, but the silence to let him know he wasn't going to say a damn thing.

"Probably has a few horcruxes with his lifespan and the amount of game he brings back," Draco muttered. The cat was growing on him; there was no denying the tendrils of orange that escaped his spellwork to remove the evidence. Finishing off his pint, he started on the next.

They still had quite a few pubs to hit.

"That I wouldn't doubt in the least," he drawled before starting on his second beer and keeping an eye on Theo. He half expected Theo to try and race through his drinks and dart on to the next pub. But then again, talking seemed to distract him.

Pausing a moment, he couldn't help but smile a bit. "So...the family tradition continuing with the peacocks?"

Draco nodded. “Should be arriving in the morning,” he replied. Finding an Albino peahen on such short notice hadn’t been easy. “She cannot see Trotenoy until I do,” he warned. She’d left a red and gold feather on Petrus. He’d return the favor on hers. The fact that he’d chosen a rival wine for its name just added to the poetry of it all.

Theo perked a brow but didn’t comment. Instead, he drank. Maybe he’d make it out first again after paying the tab.

Blaise lifted a brow at that but simply nodded his head. "Understood. We'll make sure she doesn't go wandering the gardens until after you get to see the peacock," he agreed easily enough. The last thing he needed was to get punished for that. All of his injuries were healed, and he'd prefer not to get any more for at least two weeks.

So long as it was understood, there was nothing else to be said about it. Moving on, he sipped his ale. He didn't want to think of the next two weeks. It was just giving the enemy time to plan, to mobilize. It was as much a test for him.

"So Theo, anyone in your sights?" he asked. The man had been quiet, too quiet. "You are the only one that can get some action tonight," he taunted. Blaise might play a good game when they were out, but he knew how fond he was of his asset to know better.

Theo swallowed back. "Why? Jealous?" he grinned, looking around as though he were trying to find someone to take home.

"Of the fact you can get laid tonight? Absolutely. That you're going to have to be charming to find someone? Hardly," Blaise offered with a chuckle as he sipped his ale.

But was the blond? He didn't think so. Not with the way that Draco laid his claim over the witch. The threat to Theo's eyes had been communicated to him and had almost made him laugh. He felt something for the muggleborn. He just wasn't sure what his best mate felt.

He offered a shrug of his shoulders. "Only a matter of time before people start asking if we plan on settling down, Theo."

"One of us should get laid tonight. You'll just have to take one for the team Theo," he grinned. He wasn't even sure it was possible if he had wanted to. Not with how the vows were starting to fit into place. Taking the edge off had been one thing, but things were different now.

Theo looked between the two of them. "Seriously?" he looked from Draco to Blaise. Unsure which of them was bothering him most. "I don't have to settle down, but y'all are right. You're both left with your hands tonight," he chuckled, drinking up.

Looking over at Theo, he finished off his ale and couldn't help but smirk. "Yes, seriously. Your good looks can only get you so far, Theo." He teased one of his best mates before looking around this particular pub. He likely wouldn't find someone here.

"But I second that. Someone should get laid tonight...even if you aren't settling down," he teased, glancing at Draco. At least no one could pester Malfoy about it for much longer.

"I'd ask what's in it for me, but..." Theo grinned, sitting back in his chair.

Draco laughed at the blond and his antics.

"What's in it for you is getting laid. Unless your partner is unfortunate in bed, then that's your bad choice." Blaise drawled as he moved to get up, stretching slowly as he looked between the two of them.

"You know what? You find someone to fly your ass home, and I'll give you tomorrow off," Draco said, shaking his head.

Theo hadn't wanted to be selfish on a night like this, but to get a day off, that was worth finding someone. "That's...tempting...what's the catch?" he asked.

The catch. That was a fantastic question. "The catch is likely that we don't have to carry you back ourselves. We don't want to carry your ass while you complain about striking out," he teased good-naturedly before he strode out the door to grab his broom for that headstart again.

"No catch, though I suppose you'll have to find a way to ease their walk of shame, and that ..." he smiled in delight. It was cruel, but he didn't give a shit. "Go on, get your head start..." he slicked his lips.

Theo didn't need telling twice. After the tab was paid, he set up, leaving Malfoy to his half pint he nursed.