What If? - Drarry

Chapter Eighteen

Blaise was sitting reading at the restaurant table when Draco and Harry arrived, both damp from the pattering rain outside. Waving away the waiter who attempted to accost them, Draco made his way to sit down opposite his best friend, Harry close behind him.

"You're late, kid," Blaise said, not looking up from his book. Draco snorted.

"Two minutes. And don't 'kid' me; I'm the same age as you."

"Fifty-one days older. Don't you forget it," Blaise said, and finally looked up. With surprise, his eyes fell on Harry. "Good to see you," He nodded, recovering. Then, looking between them, he added, "What's with the ambush?"

"Sorry to intrude on your evening," Harry said, "But Draco mentioned that you were still having trouble getting this newspaper idea off the ground and it gave me an idea."

Sitting up, Blaise's dark eyes took on an air of interest. "I'm listening."

"You need something that gives you an edge, right? Which no other newspaper has?"

Blaise nodded. "Of course, or else why would people buy it?"

Harry smiled. "Well, do you think an interview with the new seeker of the Chudley Cannons might cut it?"

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "The Cannon's aren't exactly world-cup level, Potter. And what's this about a new-" Understanding dawned on his face "-Oh Merlin, it's you?"

"It is," Harry nodded. "Got my letter today. Already been asked to a couple of interviews, but I thought I might ask you first. What do you think?"

"You might want to close your mouth," Draco advised, smirking, "Your jaw's going to hit the table."

Draco couldn't help but smile as he watched Harry and Blaise discuss Harry's idea. Blaise had been waiting for a break so long, and now Harry Potter, who hadn't given an interview in months, was offering the perfect solution. It was all falling into place. They talked animatedly, Blaise's dark eyes glimmering with the new possibilities, and Draco realised that not only were going to help each other in business - they were going to get along, too.

Eventually, Harry slapped his knees and said 'Right!' in the traditional Brittish way that meant 'I don't want to be rude but I really must go.' Blaise nodded and held out his hand.

"Thank you, Potter," He said as they shook. "You've saved my skin."

"Hey, I'm just glad I can help," Harry smiled and stood. "I'll be on my way then, and leave you to your meal?"

"Oh yes, please, shoo," Draco good-naturedly waved him away. "It's my turn to talk to Blaise now."

0o0oHarry0o0o

On the Sunday after Harry had been accepted to the Cannons, he and Draco were having a late lunch in the living room. With the addition of a coffee table - Draco's suggestion - the room had gained some small sense of personality, and Harry had been considering doing some more redecorating, hence the interior design magazines on the new table. They ate leftovers, as Harry was tired out from his morning run and couldn't be bothered to cook. Both jumped (perhaps disproportionately to the sound, but old habits cling hard) as without warning, a green flame burst to life within the fireplace and tumbling out came Ron and Hermione, managing not to fall over this time, though looking dishevelled from their floo travel.

"Ron? Hermione?" Recovering from the small shock, Harry stood up, pleasantly surprised. "What's with this?"

"So sorry, we should have owled first, I know, but-" Hermione broke off, and looked at Ron with a huge smile and soft eyes. Ron grinned back at her, and his freckles bunched up the way they did when he was happiest.