' Hates you?' Draco shook his head, but Harry didn?t seem inclined to elaborate. 'I doubt that.'
'Who cares what you think,' replied Harry, his voice without inflection.
'Another excellent point,' Draco said. 'Right. No more out of you.' He came up to Harry and grabbed a fistful of the back of his cloak. 'Come on.'
He pulled, and Harry followed, without much resistance. They headed down the hard-packed snowy path into the village, passing warm lighted windows that smelled of gingerbread and cinnamon. Eventually they came out into Hogsmeades small commercial district, bracketed by Zonkos joke shop on one end and the Three Broomsticks on the other. Zonkos was closed but the Broomsticks was open, and as they passed through its doors and into the noisy, warm, crowded space inside, Draco said a spell under his breath that melted the snow from their clothes without leaving a puddle. Always thoughtful, thats my motto.
Behind the bar, pretty Madam Rosmerta winked and smiled at the boys.
'Hallo, Draco,' she said. 'Harry.'
Draco nodded at her. 'We?re just passing through,' he said significantly.
She arched an eyebrow. 'Well, have fun then.'
Harry looked at Draco in confusion. 'Malfoy, what-?'
'Just come on.' Draco transferred his grip from the scruff of Harrys neck to his wrist, and pulled him along in his wake. They crossed the room, half-full of witches and wizards sitting and drinking quietly at the long oak tables, then passed by the huge decorated Christmas tree and under the stairwell, until they fetched up at — a wall. Which was entirely blank except for a gold-framed painting of a very attractive young girl, bearing a not- passing resemblance to Madam Rosmerta herself, perched on a swing. When she caught sight of Harry and Draco she gave them a coquettish wink. 'Well, aren?t you two pretty,' she said. 'Come to visit with me for a while?'
Draco shook his head, smiling slightly. 'Buttercup,' he said.
'Oh, not another one,' said the girl in the picture, looking annoyed, but the portrait swung forward anyway, revealing a blank black entryway through the wall. Draco started off, and Harry, looking bewildered, followed Draco into the passageway.
A huge space opened up before them. It was an elegant room, all sparkling teak wood and dark oak and polished brass. A long bar ran across one wall, and behind it were shelves lined with row after row of liquor bottles: red Dragons Blood gin, black Giant wine, viscous green Troll beer. A tall glass vodka bottle the height of a man stood to one side of the bar; inside it tiny broomsticks whizzed around in circles. The words ABSOLUT QUIDDITCH wound in scrollwork across the top.
A tall witch stood behind the bar counter, wearing a shimmering silver top, and pouring a thin stream of pink liquid into a glass held by a fat wizard in an orange robe who sat cross-legged at the bar. As Harrys eyes adjusted to the dimness he realized two things. One: that the bar was, aside from the bartender and a few waitresses, inhabited solely by wizards; there was not a witch to be seen. Two: that the girl behind the bar was not wearing a shimmering silver top after all; in fact, she was not wearing any top. She was clothed solely in her long glimmering hair and a pair of gold hotpants.
'Welcome to the Sleazy Weasel,' said Draco indicating the bar with a sweep of his arm.
'Gah,' said Harry, taking a step back. 'I–I never — I?ve never seen-'
'Now you have,' said Draco. He grabbed hold of the back of Harrys robes again and steered him firmly towards the bar. Finding an empty pair of stools next to the plump wizard with the pink cocktail, he plonked Harry down into a seat and leaned over the counter. 'Oi!' he said. 'Drinks, over here.'
The topless waitress turned around. 'Draco!' she said, obviously pleased to see him. She hurried over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. 'I haven?t seen you in ages.'
Harry made a gurgling sound. 'You come here a lot?' he said to Draco.
'Believe it or not, my father used to conduct business deals here,' said Draco, accepting the barmaids kiss with the air of one to whom all homage is due. His eyes flicked expertly down the bar. 'Right, then. One Mai Tai,' he said. 'With an umbrella. Green. And one…' He glanced over at Harry. 'One Bloody Mary, double shot of Dragons Blood.'
The bartending witch grinned. 'Umbrella?'
'Sure. A red one.'
She winked at him. 'Anything you want. And clever you, you got here before the show this time.'
Draco just smiled. The show? thought Harry. His eyes darted to the side and lit upon a small stage towards the shadowy end of the room. There were several tall poles set up on it, and far behind them was a small group of wizard musicians. All men, as well. The one with the clarinet looked disturbingly like Snape.
Harry had seen enough bad movies to know what the poles were for. He slowly, disbelieveingly turned his head towards Draco, who was rummaging in the pockets of his cloak with an air of great unconcern.
'Malfoy,' he said, a bit creakily. 'Did you just take me to a wizard strip club?'
'Yup,' said Draco, and tossed a handful of Galleons on the counter. 'That should hold us for a few rounds.'
Harry shook his head. 'I?ll see you toast on the fires of hell for this, Malfoy.'
'Did you say a toast?' The silver-haired barmaid was back (obviously a veela, Harry thought) with a smoking red drink in one hand and a swirling green drink in the other. She set them down in front of Harry and Draco and smiled. 'How about a toast to the two best-looking boys at Hogwarts?'
Despite himself, Harry felt a blush creeping up from his collar. He was not immune to veela charms, even now. Draco, however, just grinned.
'Angelique,' he said, 'you?ve never even seen any of the other boys at Hogwarts.'
The veela girl grinned back. 'I?m just in it for the tips, love,' she said.
Draco handed her a galleon. She tucked it carefully away in a place that nearly made Harry fall off his stool. When he righted himself, he made a grab for his drink, and drained it handily. It went down about as easily as a pint of gasoline, but even as he choked and sputtered he could feel the liquid spreading its alert and burning energy through his veins.
He gestured weakly with his hand. 'Another,' he said, between coughs.
'Another of the same, please.'
They had each downed four drinks and the 'showstill hadn?t started.
Not that Harry seemed to care. He was sitting hunched over his fourth Dragons Blood cocktail, staring down into it as if it held the secrets of the universe.
Gently, Draco poked him in the shoulder. 'Buck up, Potter. The night is young and we have umbrellas in our drinks.'
Harry turned unfocused green eyes on him. 'What is it with you and drink umbrellas?'
'Well, theres a good story there. Actually its not a good story, its just a long one. Lets talk about you instead. How did you come to be lying face-down in the snow outside the Forbidden Forest?'
'I told you. I had a fight with Hermione.'
'And she banged you over the head with a shovel, dragged you out to the Forbidden Forest, and left you there?'
Harry blew out an exasperated breath. 'No. I sort of — ran off. Things were getting to intense and — don?t you and Blaise ever fight?'
Draco snorted. 'Not exactly.'
'What does that mean?'
Draco shook his head, 'I don?t want to talk about her.'
'But shes your girlfriend.'
Draco was unable to restrain a shudder. 'Don?t remind me.'
Harry looked at him with his mouth open. 'Don?t you like her?'
'Nobody likes Blaise,' said Draco, with finality.
'Why not?'
