Doing a Double Take

“I don’t know about you bitches,” Carter said dramatically, crashing next to Harry on the pub booth, “but I could absolutely use a pint or seven right now.”

It had just hit seven on a Friday, the time at which the gang had decided it was socially acceptable to go and get drunk. Or, at least, that was what they said they would do. Instead, when Harry, Daisy, and Carter went out for their regular Friday night drinks, they tended to get slightly tipsy at worst and were more likely to instead nurse a Firewhiskey and Coke throughout the whole night and eat more chips than anyone would recommend.

Daisy patted Carter on the should. “Is it work or is it your love life?”

“Both,” he moaned. “I’m having a hard time getting approval to teach a unit on this new magical way to paint that Luna was telling me about. It’s not like it’s dangerous or anything, we would just need some Hippogriff feathers, and those are a dime a dozen nowadays. Then, this delicious guy I was talking to for over a month ghosted me, so that’s so much effort down the drain. Therefore, it is time for some alcohol to go down my drain.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Harry said. “I’ll get the first round. What’s everyone drinking?”

With drink orders in hand, Harry made his way to the bartender. The man behind the counter, a tall spindly thing, gave him a wink as he approached. “Hey there, savior,” he smiled. “Are you guys drinking tonight?”

“Hey, Mark,” Harry responded easily, grateful for the predictable banter. “We very well just might.”

Mark took his drink orders and made conversation as he started preparing them. “You know, we’ve been looking to get a little gimmick here. Maybe something that could be put into a drink that does something exciting and magical. I hear that you may have a contact for me.”

Harry sighed. “George isn’t doing too many commissions these days,” he told him. “Besides, he’s very costly. Not that I don’t want you two to meet, but I definitely don’t want the pub going bankrupt.”

Mark shrugged, slipping the first drink onto the counter. “I’m also open giving him a product idea and taking a discount on my order instead. I don’t know much about spells, but if it were possible, I’d like something that could sit on the rim of a cup and would do something if a drink got spiked. I think there’s a market for it.”

Despite Harry’s discomfort at exploiting his relationship with George, he had to agree that it was a good idea. “I’ll talk to him,” he promised as Mark put the last two drinks up. “I’ll let you know next pub night.”

“Sounds good,” he smiled, leaning against the counter. “Don’t be a stranger, okay? I like seeing your face here.”

Harry chuckled through his blush. “Of course, mate. I’ll see you the next round.”

He made his way back to the table and carefully placed each drink in front of his friends. “Thank you,” Carter said, taking a large gulp of his beer. “I need to build up confidence to hit on Mark.”

“You absolutely do not need to build up confidence to hit on Mark,” Daisy protested, jabbing him from across the table. “We cannot lose yet another pub to the awkwardness of you hooking up with someone who works there. I like this one. Pick someone that’s here if you really care.”

Carter took that advice to heart, immediately glancing around the pub with very little tact and very much eagerness. Harry smacked his shoulder, trying to draw his attention back to his very good friends that had decided there would be no hookups on pub nights. Carter, of course, ignored him in favor of sleuthing.

“Oh, look at that one!” Carter crooned. “With the blue hair. He’s cute!”

Daisy and Harry both turned, and her face lit up. “It’s Jonah! I’m going to go get him.”

She jumped up, leaving Harry to explain to Carter who Jonah was. It didn’t take much work for her to get him to come over. He looked out of place away from the tea shop, or maybe that was just Harry not used to seeing him without an apron or covered in flour. Or away from a certain blond, who Harry definitely was not thinking about even a little bit. He grinned at them as he and Daisy slipped into the booth. “Hey, guys. I hear Carter thinks I’m hot, which I absolutely am. Sorry for not being gay though, you would truly be a catch.”

Carter swooned dramatically. “Oh, it absolutely does not matter. I’ll keep you around anyways just to flatter me.” Then, with a quick and calculated glance at Harry, he continued. “Anyways, speaking of people who find other people hot, I hear you work with Draco.”

Jonah snorted while Harry shot Carter a murderous look. “Absolutely do. He’s been rather funny lately. I used to think there was something about cute men with messy black hair that did that to him, but considering the magnitude of rambling lately, I actually think that it’s just Harry.”

The table laughed while Harry turned red. He took a large sip of his drink to try to hide the heat in his cheeks. “It’s funny,” Daisy added. “I think Harry has been a little off lately too! Oh, don’t give me that look! You literally went home in the middle of the day to change. Who does that?”

Jonah chortled. “Oh, please. Ever since Harry told Draco that he likes weird mugs, he’s been giving the other customers our tamest mugs just in case Harry comes in so he could give him a fun mug.”

Carter leaned forward. “Oh, really? That’s so interesting, considering that our Harry here doesn’t think Draco is attracted to him at all.”

“That’s because he isn’t,” Harry interjected. “He’s just trying to be nice to me to make up for lost time. Plus, he’s close with some of my friends and probably just wants to make sure that we get along to keep things easy.” He drained the rest of his drink before standing up, smiling strainingly. “I’m going to go get another drink, but you guys keep chatting.”

While Harry was slightly annoyed at them for trying to get his hopes up for nothing, he felt guilty for just getting up like that. Since apologizing seemed difficult, he got everyone another drink, grabbing a generic drink for Jonah since he didn’t bother to check his drink before leaving the table. By the time he got back to the table, the topic had changed, and the additional paid-for alcohol made the others much less likely to tease him, allowing for Harry to slip into a comfortable conversation about something much less personal.

About four drinks later, Harry realized two things: one, despite Carter being purely muggle, he absolutely had to have some Seer blood in him for him to predict the need to get drunk; two, Harry was drunk. Harry was proud of the fact that he didn’t need alcohol to socialize and usually kept himself to about a drink a week, maybe two if there was a special occasion, but he had not considered the possibility that that would mean his tolerance would therefore be about a drink and a half before he felt like he had gotten off a bad carnival ride.

“I’m going to do it,” Harry declared, slamming his empty glass onto the table. The others jumped, jarred from their conversation that Harry hadn’t been paying attention to.

“Do what, mate?” Daisy asked politely, clearly holding back laughter at his composure.

Harry blinked and looked at her. “Didn’t I say it out loud? I thought I said it out loud. I’ve been debating about it for the past ten minutes. Was I not debating about it where you could hear me?”

“No,” Carter said, sounding suspiciously similar to how he speaks to his six-year-old students. “What you have been doing though is staring directly between Daisy and Jonah and furrowing your eyebrows. Care to share with the class?”

“I’m going to call Draco.”

“No!”

“Give me your phone,” Daisy demanded, holding out her hand. “You’re not calling Draco. If I let you call Draco, you’ll be so upset tomorrow. Then you’ll wallow in self-pity and not come to dinner on Sunday, even though you absolutely promised that you would. If I don’t get you to that dinner, my wife is going to actually kill me so that she can also kill you. I like being alive, so I’m going to need you to keep the good mood. You’ve been Happy Harry this week. Keep being Happy Harry. We like it when you’re Happy Harry.”

Harry slapped her hand away. “I can be Happy Harry. I am Happy Harry right now. We can leave the problems for Hungover Harry. Happy Harry wants to call Draco and hear him talk because he thinks it’s cute when Draco rambles.”

Jonah snorted. “I say just let this happen. It’s not like we can keep his phone. Besides, maybe this will help speed things up a bit. While I do enjoy making fun of Draco, I’d rather have my much more competent boss back.”

“I adore that you assume Draco wouldn’t get worse if the two of them got together,” Daisy mused. “I think they would be insufferably cute. Just nauseating.”

“You’re such a cute drunk,” Carter cooed, pinching Harry’s cheek. “You keep everything so bottled up all the time, it’s nice to know you enjoy things. It’s so crazy that you have feelings under there.”

Harry pouted. “I’m not cute. I’m tough. I’m all fierce and everything. I do fierce things.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” Daisy snorted. “Just, please leave the phone call for until you get home. I’d rather not hear you drunk and waxing poetic about Draco’s hair or something.”

“Speaking of home,” Carter added, checking his watch, “it’s time for me to go there. I’m going to take a bath, binge a show, and go to bed. Maybe I’ll try and find a new guy for myself online, since Jonah is so unfortunately straight. Oi, don’t wink at me! You’ll give me false hope.”

The others agreed, slowly getting up from their seats and making their way out. Harry, not even a little bit less drunk, stumbled a bit as he stood, very uneven on his feet. Jonah grabbed him around the waist and pulled him to his side to keep him steady. “I’m flattered,” Harry slurred, patting Jonah’s chest gently, “but you are not my type.”

“Oh, the shame,” Jonah snorted. “Hey, guys? Can you help me get Harry to the nearest floo? I don’t have his floo address or I’d take him myself.”

Daisy grumbled a bit, definitely not pleased about having to handle a drunk Harry, but she and Carter both led them to the nearest floo station. “I’ll go through with him,” she told the others. “I don’t trust him to say his actual address. He’d probably say Draco’s heart or something equally stupid.”

“Hey,” Harry pouted at her. “Draco’s heart isn’t stupid. It’s very big I think. And probably pretty. He’s very pretty.”

She rolled her eyes at him and gently pulled him from Jonah. “I’m sure we’ll see you soon,” she told him. “And Carter, we’ll see you on Monday.”

She took him down the street. The floo station was only about a block over from the pub, and luckily it wasn’t too busy. She pulled them up to the station manager, who sold Daisy a floo powder pellet, strong enough to carry the two of them together through the network. “I’ve never been so happy that muggles can use the floos,” she grumbled, pulling Harry along with her. “At least this will be quicker than getting a taxi.”

They approached the floos, which were busy with people who were all going home from nights out. Harry had enough of a mind on him to hope that there were no people that would recognize him, but not enough of a mind to get in line for one of the fires without a harsh yank from Daisy.

Their line was luckily short, so it was no time at all before she pulled Harry into the floo, powder in hand, and called out his address. A few seconds later, they stumbled out into Harry’s living room. If Harry was in a clear mind, he would have been grateful for the fact that he had cleaned before going out for the night. However, he was absolutely not in a clear mind, so all he could think was—“Do you think Draco is still awake?”

“No idea, darling,” Daisy mused absentmindedly, brushing some ash off of his clothes and leading him to his bedroom. “It’s only ten, so I would think so, but also I don’t think he’s going to really love picking up the phone to a, uh, charming you.”

He shoved her playfully. “I’m definitely not drunk anymore. Just don’t ask me to say the alphabet. Or walk in a straight line. Or any of those other tests that the aurors ask you to do when you’ve been out late.”

“The hallmark of someone who’s sober, for sure,” she nodded solemnly, definitely not just humoring him. She laid him down onto the bed. “I’m going to go back home to my wonderful wife. Not that I don’t enjoy this lovely conversation, but she has boobs and isn’t drunk, so I think I’d much rather be there.”

She saluted him as she walked out of the room. Harry didn’t move until he heard the signature sound of the floo, at which point he immediately grabbed his phone. He was definitely not drunk, not even a little bit, but it did seem impossible to find Draco’s contact. However, he was determined, temporary illiteracy be damned. He found a contact that probably started with a D, then hit dial, speakerphone, and hoped.

“Hello?” Draco’s soft voice filled the room. Harry breathed out a sigh of relief while Draco continued. “Is everything okay? Not that I don’t appreciate getting a phone call from you! I just didn’t expect one. But it’s still good.”

“Dracooo!” Harry crooned cheerfully. “I am not even a little bit drunk, and I wanted to call you even though Daisy and Jonah and Carter didn’t think I should! But I know it was a good idea.”

Draco was quiet for a second, which was very out of character. Then he said, “Not even a little bit drunk, huh? Is that why you’re slurring your words a bit and calling me late at night?”

Harry nodded. Draco stayed quiet for a few seconds before continuing, “Harry? Are you still there?”

“Oh! I nodded. But you’re not here so you can’t see me. I wish you were here though. Oh, I shouldn’t have said that! But I definitely do wish you were here. You’re so cute when you ramble. I shouldn’t have said that either. Pretend I didn’t say anything.”

There was a funny squeaking noise and a thud on the other end, almost as if Draco had dropped his phone. Harry didn’t think he did, though. Draco was definitely too perfect to drop his phone. “I’ll, uh,” Draco said quickly, “pretend I didn’t hear any of that. I’m sure that sober you wouldn’t appreciate that you’re saying things you don’t mean to me.”

Harry grinned. “Did I interrupt anything? I don’t want to be a nuisance or anything. I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh, I just got back from volunteering. I’d tell you what I do, but I don’t want to have to explain it to you again, so I’ll just tell you when you’re sober sometime. Although, I must say, I was never expecting to hear you drunk.”

“I never get drunk!” Harry said cheerfully. “I just happened to drink more than usual tonight because my friends kept telling me that you have feelings for me, but don’t worry! I set them straight. No, actually I set them gay. Ha! But I told them that you’re probably just being nice because we share friends, and we don’t want it to be awkward. So don’t worry, they don’t think you have feelings for me anymore.”

Draco paused before he said, “That’s good, Harry. But maybe you want to go to bed? Just in case you say something you don’t mean. Not that I don’t like talking to you! I just think that maybe it would be better if we have more conversations when you’re a little more sober than you are right now.”

Harry pouted. “But I like talking to you!”

“And I like talking to you, but I also want to talk with you when you know what you’re saying. And I can hear you yawning through the phone. Are you close to your bed? Can you lie down?”

“Yeah, I’m sitting on my bed. But I can probably get under my blankets, maybe. They seem to be fighting me. I’ve never been fought by blankets before. Only by dark lords. I think the blankets are doing a better job defeating me than Dolvemo- Volvedo- oh, why didn’t he pick an easier to pronounce name?”

“I don’t know,” Draco laughed lightly. “I’m not sure he was thinking about that when he chose it.”

“Also,” Harry babbled as he laid on top of his blankets, “why did he make such a big deal about picking a new name if he wouldn’t let anyone call him that? Can you imagine spending so long making an anagram of your name and not even letting anyone use that name? But if he came up with it at Hogwarts, do you think teachers called him Moldemort in classes?”

“I don’t think anyone ever called him Moldemort. But that is a very good question. Are you laying down now? Yes? Okay, we can keep talking, but I want you to close your eyes while we talk.”

Harry did so easily, picturing the smile on Draco’s face that he could hear in his voice. “Why are you so different now than you used to be?”

Draco was quiet for a second. Harry waited long enough to miss his voice then prepped as if to speak. Just as he opened his mouth, Draco said softly, “I used to be someone that I never really was. You know, my father wasn’t exactly the accepting sort. So I had to fit this mold of the perfect, pureblood son. After the war was over and I didn’t need to listen to him anymore, I finally had the chance to figure out what made me happy. I spent a long time searching for myself, and the ending of the Statute really gave me a chance to figure out how magic could benefit from muggles. That’s all I’ll say for now, though; I’d much rather tell you things when I’m convinced you’re sober enough to remember them.”

“I am sober,” Harry grumbled, words muffled by the pillow his face was pressed into. “I’m very very sober and will definitely remember that you’re the best person. And a pretty person. With lots of tattoos. I want to see your tattoos.”

“Maybe some other time. You sound sleepy, Harry. Maybe you could fall asleep for me? It is late after all, and I want you to get some rest.”

“You want me to fall asleep?” Harry asked maudlinly. “But then I won’t hear your pretty voice, and I really like your pretty voice.”

“We can talk tomorrow,” Draco promised. “For now, though, I think it would be best if you got some rest.”

“Fine. But we better talk tomorrow, I think it would be super good if we talked tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that. And the day—”

“I think I get it but thank you. We absolutely can. I am going to hang up now, okay?”

“Not okay, but fine. Bye-bye, pretty boy.”

There was a sort of choking noise on the other end of the phone, before Draco responded, softly and somewhat gravelly, “Goodnight, Harry.”

Harry let the phone fall away from his hand, thinking about how pretty Draco was. And how wrong his friends were to try to stop him from calling! As he drifted closer to sleep, he let a soft smile spread across his lips, certain that he had no regrets for dialing up the man.