Author's Note: To relieve any confusion, I adapted this story from the novel Bet Me, written by Jennifer Cruise. When I first posted this story I made mention of this before I began Chapter One, however, due to problems with my computer I lost all my unbacked up stories. That being the case I had to copy and paste my work from Fanfiction, and post some of it all over again. Somewhere along the way I must have forgotten to give Jennifer the proper credit she is due. It has never been my intention to take credit from her, because I happen to absolutely love her books. I simply thought that her story line would be hilarious set with the characters of Harry Potter.

All of this having been said, if you do not like my adaptation of Bet Me, then please find another story to read, I have no time or patience for readers who want bitch about my story and leave me rude reviews with no name attached.

Chapter One

Once upon a time, Harry Potter thought as he stood against the bar in a loud muggle nightclub, the world was filled with good men. He glared furiously in the face of the man he'd planned on taking to Ginny's wedding and thought, chivalry is dead.

"Listen Harry, this relationship just isn't working for me anymore." Terry said. How dare he? All those lines about seeing him as more than just the Boy-Who-Lived, savior of the wizarding world were just too good to be true.

I ought to hex you into next Thursday, Harry thought. He wouldn't do it of course because he was a healer and hexing people just seemed, well, counter productive if he were honest. Still, the thought of a satisfyingly well placed hex, just made him smile a bit in spite of the circumstances.

"I see." Was all Harry could muster at that particular moment, visions of the bat-boggey hex dancing about in his mind.

"Any way," Terry continued his voice overly harsh. "It's no secret why things aren't working out, Harry."

Terry probably didn't know he was angry, though Harry could see it in the other man's eyes. At least, I know I'm bloody fucking angry, he thought. He let his anger settle around him and couldn't help but feel a bit warm all over which was more than Terry had ever done.

The music thumped around them and there were dozens of muggles dancing about in various states of undress drinks in hand. Another point against Terry, though Harry was glad there were no other wizards in the general vicinity. The bastard was dumping him in a muggle nightclub and he couldn't even keep his eyes on Harry while he did the deed. It was infuriating the way Terry's eyes seemed to rove hungrily over the other patrons in their slinky clubbing outfits.

"I'm really am sorry things didn't work out." Terry insisted, clearly not.

Harry crossed his arms over his silky black button-down so he wouldn't be tempted to punch the other man. "This is because I won't take you home with me tonight, isn't it? Terry, it's Tuesday, I have rounds in the morning. You have work tomorrow too."

"It's not that." Terry looked noble and wounded as only the tall, tawny Ravenclaw could. "You're not expending any effort to make this relationship work, which means…"

Which means, we've been dating for three months and I still won't sleep with you, Harry tuned him out and looked around at the mesh of bodies gyrating on the dance floor. If I had an untraceable poison, I could drop it in his drink now and not one of these idiots would ever know! He sighed resignedly, they may not, but I would and so would Hermione when the wanker doesn't turn up for work.

"…and I do think, if we have a future, that you should be trying to contribute to this relationship too." Terry continued. Ever the bloody Ravenclaw, Harry thought. I bet he has charts and statistics at home to prove his perceived necessity of intercourse in solidifying relationships.

"Of course we have a future, Terry," He said trying to put his anger aside momentarily. "We have plans. Ginny is getting married in three weeks. We have invitations and the place-cards have already been printed. It's the social event of the season."

"Is that all you think of me?" Terry's voice slipped a bit higher than usual. "I'm just a date to your ex-girlfriend's wedding?"

"Of course not," Harry snapped. "Just as I'm sure I'm more to you than the-boy-who-lived-to-be-a-quick-shag."

Terry opened his mouth and closed it again. "Well, of course. Harry, I don't want you to think this is a reflection on you. You're intelligent, famous; you have a great job at St. Mungo's…"

Harry listened knowing that you're handsome, you're charming were not coming. If only he would die of a spontaneously self-inflicted Advada Kedavra. And if he died, even Molly Weasley couldn't expect him to bring the bastard to Ginny's wedding. Harry tuned Terry out after that thinking about how he was going to explain to his surrogate mother that Terry was not the wonderful charmer she thought he was. Just once, he thought, it would be nice if things actually worked out for me the first time.

"And besides your first love will always be healing, how can I keep up with that?" Terry finished.

Harry nodded narrowing his eyes. "Thank you, Terry." He sighed. "That's the biggest bunch of batshit I've ever heard, but duly noted."

"I thought we were going places Harry?" Terry sighed.

"Yeah, you thought we were going back to my place and when that didn't happen you brought me here." Harry seethed. "So yes, we were going places, but obviously not quickly enough for you."

Terry heaved a long suffering sigh and reached for Harry's hand. The brunet backed up a step and held himself rigid until Terry dropped his outstretched hand once more to his side.

"Good bye, Terry." Harry gritted out stoically and turned sharply on his heel. In a few quick strides he was back with his two best friends who were watching them from the far end of the bar.

"He was looking more up tight than usual, mate." Ron quipped looking even taller than usual as he leaned against the brightly lit bar.

"Are you upset with him?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Yeah, he dumped me." Harry rolled his eyes. Though surprisingly, he was not upset that he and Terry were over, just that he would be shit out of luck for Gin's wedding and that he wasted so much time on the other man. Why did everything have to be about sex?

"I knew I never liked the smarmy bastard." Ron snarled.

Harry turned back to the bar and smiled at the slender bartender. "Tequila, please." He couldn't help but admire the man, he was tall, but not overly so, and his hair was chin length but sleek and shiny like a raven's wing. I bet Terry wouldn't have dumped him, he groused. It was an understanding early in their relationship that Terry preferred for the brunette to keep his hair as slick and neat as possible which always rankled in Harry's opinion. He was a healer for Merlin's sake, his life was spent in break rooms taking quick naps and with long hours of patient care stopping only in the canteen for a quick meal before starting up again.

Why can't I just be more like Ron and Mione? He thought dismally. Even in a muggle club with no one who knew them, they were able to interact with the people around them. Harry couldn't do that with anyone who wasn't a patient, and even then only limited personal interaction was made. Maybe that was why he liked the hospital, he didn't have to become attached to his patients, he just had to care about them enough to treat the ailment and let them go about their lives once more. Harry picked absently at a napkin on the bar as he waited.

"He wasn't the one," Hermione said from his left side, her hand firmly planted on her hips.

Ron frowned from his other side. "Why were you dating him anyway?"

"Because I thought he might be the one." Harry replied, exasperated. "He was intelligent, and successful on his own, and really nice at first. Plus we went to school with him and he seemed like a sensible choice. Then all of the sudden he went snotty on me when I wouldn't ask him to come home with me after our dates. I mean my house is bloody unplottable for a reason, and I needed to know I could trust him, which I obviously couldn't."

Hermione patted his arm. "Well, it's good that he broke up with you because now you're free for when the right man finds you. Trust me your Mr. Darcy is on his way."

"Right," Harry chuckled. "I'm sure he is, and he'll be snobby, self-centered, and altruistic all at the same time. A paragon of contradiction wrapped in a handsome package of manly perfection."

"You two and your muggle literature," Ron groaned.

"Oh shut up you thought he was hot in the movie." Harry chided. "And it doesn't matter because I'm not going to pick the first handsome rich guy to piss off and brood over for the next year of my life until he professes his love to me."

"That's not how it works and you know it." Hermione hissed leaning on the bar and looking like an R-rated librarian in her sexy silk blouse unbuttoned a almost indecently low and her skirt clinging to all the right curves. If only I fancied women, he sighed. "If it's meant to be, it will be. No matter how many things go wrong, your princely perfect Mr. Darcy will show up, because if there is one person in the world who deserves love it's you, Harry."

"You know, Mione." Ron interjected. "For such a bloody sensible know it all, you can be so strangely and hopelessly romantic it boggles the mind."

"I fail to see what you mean, Ronald." Hermione's eyes narrowed menacingly.

Ron grinned good-naturedly. "You are so fact based, and truth seeking that when you go all story book romance on us it's kinda wonky."

"Wonky or not," Harry interceded. "It's appreciated."

Hermione beamed.

"I should have known Terry was a mistake when I couldn't bring myself to sleep with him. We were on our fifth date when Terry started to bombard me with statistics and facts about using notoriety to influence your occupation. He just kept insisting I would be more well respected and appreciated if I became a figure head for the hospital rather than just a healer. After that, whenever he made a suggestion that we go home together I changed the subject."

"He was a smarmy git." Ron intoned sagely.

"You think?" Harry snorted the edge in his voice a bit harsh and Ron looked wounded. Harry sighed and scrubbed a hand through his messy black hair. "Sorry, mate. It's just not a good time to be talking about this, I'm mad as hell and I want to hex someone."

Ron nodded. "Listen, mate. You didn't really care about Terry, so you haven't lost anything but a headache and a date to my sister's wedding. And I vote we skip the wedding altogether. It has disaster written all over it with Fred and George involved."

"It's not that." Harry replied. "It's just that now I'm dateless, and somehow you're mum never really forgave me for breaking up with Gin, and she was more than furious when she found out I rather fancied blokes more than her only daughter. But, she liked Terry for some reason and I figured it would keep things peaceful and all. But since he broke up with me, this is like ammunition."

"We know." Ron and Hermione groaned having spent many evenings listening to the matronly woman expound on her views concerning Harry's orientation.

"So we just need to find you another date." Ron muttered looking around the club before remembering it was a muggle place. "Don't think there is anyone in here who isn't muggle."

"That's where you're wrong." Hermione said looking over at the door, a wicked gleam in her eyes.

"Where?" Ron asked. "And how the bloody hell would you know with just a glance?"

"Because there is only one man I know of with hair that color who spends his free time with Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott. Hermione replied. "But why are they talking to Terry?"

Both Harry and Ron turned to look at the landing of the club where a devastatingly gorgeous Draco Malfoy was standing listening to Terry talk with only a feigned interest.

"I hope you're not thinking what I think you're thinking Hermione Jane Granger." Harry whispered furiously. "Because there is no bloody way, I'm dating Draco fucking Malfoy."

"Harry's right." Ron replied. "I may not hate him quite so much now since he helped us during the war, but there's got to be plenty of attractive gay wizards to choose from."

Hermione was already formulating things in her mind as they talked. "Listen." She snapped watching the little group on the landing closely. "I'm not suggesting that Harry fall in love with him or anything, what I'm suggesting is simply have a little adventure. It's not like either of you can deny that the man is bloody hot, and Terry would have a complete fit."

Harry looked up on the landing and scrutinized Draco for a moment. Taller than Terry, silky blonde hair just as perfect as Harry remembered it at Hogwarts, molten sliver eyes, strong cheekbones, classic chin, impeccably dressed. The exact opposite of Terry.

Harry sucked in a breath as every cell in his body came alive and whispered, This one.

Then he turned away before anybody caught him slack-jawed with lust. Draco was not the one that was his libido talking. Every woman in the room and a good bit of the men probably felt the same way. Well, biology was not destiny. And with the history between them there was no telling the amount of damage that man could do to him. He reached onto the bar and picked up a second shot glass and tossed it back it without a flinch. "He's cute."

"No." Hermione insisted. "That's the point. Malfoy is not cute he's fucking beautiful even though I'm loathe to admit it, even my female vanity takes a hit around someone like that. Terry was cute in that boy next door kind of way, Malfoy is a walking wet dream."

"Okay so he's attractive." Harry agreed. "I don't think that has ever been Draco's problem."

"He's a hit and run player." Ron piped up. "Everything I've heard about the ferret since school was that he gets close then cuts and runs when it gets serious."

"The beast," Hermione scoffed. "You know people are allowed to break up."

"Well, he makes them love him and then he jets." Ron said.

Harry sniffed indignantly. "Like Terry."

Hermione snorted with laughter. "Like you ever loved Terry…"

"I was trying to," Harry snapped.

Ron shook his head. "Okay, none of that matters. All you want is a date to the wedding that would shock Terry, prove you're gay, and set mum on her ear right?"

Harry and Hermione nodded.

"Besides," Hermione cut in. "If it takes Draco months to break up with his conquests, you're covered. You can Love'm and leave'm before he ever gets a chance to back out, the wedding is only three weeks away anyhow."

"I don't think this is such a great idea." Harry began but was cut off by Hermione's insistence that he go and talk to Draco.

"Go over there, mate." Ron nodded. "The worst he can do is say no, and besides Draco may faint at the role reversal. You did turn him down the first time."

Harry began to weigh the pros and cons of this venture in his head. First off, he could potentially go out on at least one date with Draco Malfoy, the object of furious teenage crush his fifth and sixth year at Hogwarts. Not only that, but it would also make for an interesting experience if he could convince the blonde to come to a Weasley wedding even if Ginny was marrying someone from Slytherin house.

"Listen Harry," Hermione said exasperated. "I know you're cautious and you're busy, but you're damn near solidifying lately. Dating Terry must have been like dating concrete. And then there's you're house, even you're furniture is stagnant."

"My furniture was Sirius's," Harry said stiffly.

"Precisely." Hermione continued. "Your butt's been on it for years, and it was decades old before that. You need some change in your life, and if you don't make that change on your own, I will have to help you."

Harry's blood ran cold. "I don't think so."

"Mione's right mate," Ron agreed.

Harry gazed back up at the landing, and suddenly going over there didn't seem like such a bad idea in retrospect. Go ask Draco out, or let Hermione have free reign with my home? Not much of a choice, but better than nothing, Harry thought as he remembered what it had been like when they cleaned and refurbished most of Grimmauld Place five years ago. He took a step away from the bar and then hesitated momentarily. He could just stand under the ugly neon railing and eavesdrop, then if Draco Malfoy sounded even remotely like the smarmy git from their school days—more than likely—he could simply turn and walk away. Still, if he was a bit different, he could always go up and say something sweet to Terry and get reintroduced since he hadn't spoken to the blond in nearly six years. Looking back a Hermione and seeing the gleam of redecorating in her eyes, he squared his shoulders and began his trek through the sea of dancers.

Up on the landing, Draco Malfoy was thinking seriously about pushing Terry Boot over the railing. I should have moved faster when I saw them coming, he thought. It was all, Theo's fault he thought as he remembered how the evening began.

"You know, that brunette has great legs," Theo enthused. "See her? At the bar in the tight little blouse and that gray skirt, look at the way it curves around her arse. Suppose she'd dance with me?"

"I don't know why you'd want to pick up some muggle?" Draco groused. "I thought you wanted to come to a muggle club so that we could get away from Pansy, you never told me she would be here with Boot." Draco took a sip of his drink and grimaced at the music. As far as he was concerned the only draw to this place had been a night away from the wizarding world, and a few drinks with his best friends.

"So she's a muggle, doesn't mean I can't have a good time, maybe a bit of a snog." Theo looked back at the brunette. Damn she looks kinda familiar. "I got ten galleons says she'll leave with me. I'll use my line about magic, these muggle chicks always go for that."

"No bet," Draco replied. "Although that is a pretty pathetic line so it would shorten the odds." He squinted across the room at the bar, the brunette was shapely and not in that flashy obvious way which meant she was totally Theo's type. There was a tall redheaded guy next to her too, the lanky kind looked like he was still a bit in the closet, just Blaise's type, though he never understood why his Italian friend had such an obsession with redheads. Sometimes he thought it was because of his admiration of the Weasley twins, or Draco's sinking suspicion that his friend always harbored a crush for Potter's best friend.

Draco was pulled out of his musings when Theo tossed an arm over his shoulder. "Help me out here mate, she's in a group. You go over and pick of the dark haired guy next to her, and Blaise can hit on the redhead. I'd give you the redhead, but you know how Blaise is about tall redheads."

Blaise jerked around at Draco's elbow. "What? What redhead" How tall?" He peered across the room to the bar. "Oh, Bloody hell he is hot."

"And what makes you think one of them isn't her date?" Draco asked.

"Oh please," Theo scoffed. "A girl doesn't come dressed like that to a club if she has a date. Besides, if either of those blokes were with her they would be a bit more attentive. They aren't even that close to her, they're here together as friends."

"I see," Draco muttered as he scrutinized the brunette across the room next to the girl Theo was ogling. He was tall but not overly so, perhaps even an inch or two shorter than himself. He was slender, and well dressed, but he scowled owlishly at his friend through fashionable wire-rimmed glasses and he bore a strange resemblance to a man he'd only seen in passing over the last few years.

"Forget it, Theo." He said and took another drink.

Theo smacked him on the back making him choke momentarily. "Come on, live a little Dray. Don't tell me you're still pining away for Pansy."

"Merlin, no." Draco scoffed. "I broke off that betrothal as quickly as I could when father moved back to France. Keep an eye out for her though; she knows we come here when we're trying to avoid her. I expect she will be wearing that red thing she's so fond of, that's what she usually wears when she out to get something."

"She can get it from me anytime she wants." Theo guffawed.

"Marvelous," Draco beamed at his best friend. "I'll even pick up the brunette in black down there, if you marry Pansy."

Theo spat out his drink. "Marry her?"

"Yes," Draco nodded. "She wants to get married. Ever since Adrian Pucey announced he was marrying the weaslette. Surprised the hell out of me, we were getting on tolerably well until she received that invitation six months ago. I thought for sure she would be telling my parents and begging them home to force me into marriage."

"Bloody hell, there she is." Blaise was looking over Draco shoulder at the stairs with a look of dread. "Pansy's coming up the stairs."

Draco pushed himself away from the railing and moved past Blaise to the door hoping to make a quick escape. "Out of my way."

Theo stayed in his place. "You can't leave, Dray; I want the little brunette down their in the skirt."

"So, you've been chasing skirts for ages," Draco replied trying to get around him. "I can't imagine why you need my help, I've been trying to avoid them for just as long."

"Pansy's got Terry with her." Blaise informed, and there was great sympathy in his voice.

"Draco!" Terry's voice grated over his nerves. "Just who we were looking for." He sounded mad as hell, but when Draco turned, Terry was smiling.

No good will come of this, he thought as he plastered on a smirk and his Malfoy mask slid into place. "Terry. Pansy. What a surprise. I didn't think you fancied the Muggle scene?"

"Hello, Drakie." Pansy simpered her heart shaped face criminal in its loveliness. Well if he'd ever fancied witches she wouldn't have been that bad of a choice, sadly that had never been the case for one Draco Malfoy. "How've you been?"

"Wonderful. Couldn't be better, in fact." Draco replied quickly looking past Pansy to Terry with a pathetic look on his face that said please take her, I beg of you. "You're a lucky man there, Boot." Theo interjected hoping to help his friend's plight.

"I am?" Terry asked, confused.

"Dating Pansy." Blaise added. Draco nodded with a big smile on his face, hoping to encourage them toward each other.

Pansy tittered merrily. "Terry and I just ran into each other," She then turned the full force of her loveliness on Terry and fairly glowed. "It is nice to see him, though it has been ages." Her eyes slid back to Draco and he smiled past her again, radiating absolutely no jealousy at all.

Terry looked down into Pansy's beautiful face and blinked, sending a stab of sympathy straight through Draco. Pansy was enchanting up close, and from far away which was why he had managed to stomach her for so long reasoning that if his parents expected him to marry she wasn't the worst deal out there. Still, he fancied blokes and Pansy was sadly lacking in a few things he rather liked. But distance was the key, if he could stay away from her eventually she would figure it out. Maybe and cross and some garlic to perhaps.

"Of course," Terry was saying. "Perhaps we can do dinner later." He glanced at Draco looking triumphant.

"Well don't let us keep you." Draco took another step back and bumped into the railing.

Pansy let go of Terry's arm and her enchanting glow slipped a bit. "I'll just stop in the loo and freshen up." Theo and Terry watched as she sashayed off her perfect arse swaying back and forth while Blaise ignored them to peer across the club at the redhead leaning against the bar with a drink held limply in his long fingers. Draco watched his friends and took another deep swallow of his drink and wished here were somewhere—anywhere—else. Dinner, for example. Maybe he'd stop at the Hogshead for a bite to eat in the kitchen. There were no women in Crabbe and Goyle's kitchen.

"So Terry." Blaise was saying. "I thought you were interested in blokes, when did you start fancying witches?"

Terry chuckled. "Oh I'm really rather indiscriminant. Statistically, you have a better chance of always finding a partner if you do not limit yourself to one gender."

Draco rolled his eyes. That sounded just like the brainy Ravenclaw everything was about facts and statistics to him. No wonder he was with Pansy. Statistically she was probably great for someone who could look past her pain-in-arse personality and enjoy her beauty and money though Terry was a pureblood and from what he remembered of his father talking they were pretty well off.

Terry eyed him critically. "About Pansy, I thought that you and she…"

"No." Draco shook his head enthusiastically. "Pansy broke off our betrothal several months ago, when my parents moved back to France, and even then we were seeing other people off and on. Things just wouldn't work between us…you see I much prefer wizards to witches, and I happen to be quite discriminate."

"I see." Terry raised an eyebrow and Draco wondered how this man ever managed to take anyone home with him discriminate or not. But that was another of life's mysteries he had not quite unraveled.

"But aren't you supposed to be the one who never strikes out." Terry continued. "Love'm and Leave'm Malfoy."

"No." Draco replied.

"I think he's losing his edge." Theo slipped in. "I found and easy pick up for him, and he actually said no."

"Which one?" Terry asked curiously.

"The brunet in the black shirt and trousers by the bar." Theo said motioning with his glass and Terry looked over at the bar and then turned back to Draco as smooth and calculating as ever.

"Maybe you are losing it." Terry replied. "I'd be afraid to pick up Harry Potter if I were you."

Draco spat out his drink and turned his face sharply to squint across the room at the brunet once again. "There is no bloody way that's Harry fucking Potter."

"Come one Draco." Terry needled. "He's gay you know. I'm sure you'd have a chance with him, he's toned down a lot since school I've heard."

"What?"

"I'm willing to bet that you couldn't get him," Terry added. "One hundred galleons say you couldn't get past his front door."

Draco pulled back shocked. "I'm sorry, what?"

Terry chuckled, but there was an edge to his voice when he spoke. "It's just a bet, Draco. You guys are famous for your bets, I've heard you'll bet on damn near anything. This isn't even that big of a bet. We should make it two hundred. I'm sure if I've got the galleons to spare, you do. "

That was when Draco contemplated pulling his wand out and hexing Terry bollocks off even if they were in a room full of muggles. Then Theo turned his back to Terry and mouthed to Draco, humor him, and Draco grimaced but nodded. There had to be something he could ask for that would make Terry back down. "Your original copy of Rowena Ravenclaw's transfiguration text completed prior to the inception of Hogwarts."

"What?" Terry's voice squeaked.

"That's my price." Draco replied his smirk firmly in place.

Terry shook his head. "Not bloody likely, that book has been in my family for centuries, but I like your style upping the stakes like that." He leaned a bit closer a nasty gleam in his eyes. "Tell you what, I'll wager ten thousand galleons…"

Draco choked. "Terry I was kidding."

"But for then thousand, you have to get Potter into bed. And I'll even play fair and give you a month to get him flat on his back."

"You'd expect me to get Saint Potter naked in a month." Draco scoffed.

"Piece of cake." Theo replied.

Draco glared at Theo. "Terry, this isn't my kind of bet."

"It's my kind." Terry growled, and Draco thought, oh hell, he's not gonna let this go.

Hell, it was obvious the alcohol had clearly sent Terry's brain wonky. But once it was back up and working again with its normal Ravenclaw precision he would back down. Now all he had to do was wait until Terry sobered up a bit, and pretend this whole conversation never happened. Draco quickly stole a glance around the room thankful when he didn't see Potter anywhere.

Turning back to Terry, Draco couldn't help but smile. "Well, Terry it looks like Potter has disappeared. Too bad, wouldn't you say." And Merlin bless you Potter for getting lost, he thought as he took a fortifying drink from his glass and looked around.

Things were finally looking up this evening.

Harry had managed to stride across the room, telling himself that he had really lost the plot this time. He had a fifty-fifty chance that he was either going to humiliate himself talking to Malfoy or end up going to Gin's wedding alone. When made it to the bottom of the landing however he edged his way under the railing catching faint snatches of the conversation as he went not stopping until he heard Terry's voice. He grimaced as he heard Terry say, "But for then thousand, you have to get Potter into bed. And I'll even play fair and give you a month to get him flat on his back."

What the fuck? Harry thought. It was noisy up there though and maybe he hadn't heard Terry correctly.

"You'd expect me to get Saint Potter naked in a month." Draco scoffed.

Harry ran a hand through his hair and tried to calm his irritation.

"Piece of cake." He heard someone say to Terry, and he thought that son-of-a-bitch, the world is full of nothing but sex crazed bastards, before forcing himself to turn around and head back to the bar where Ron and Hermione were standing.

As he walked away the last thing Harry heard was "Ten galleons." The fucking tosser wanted to do him for ten fucking galleons.

Terry assumed Harry wouldn't sleep with anyone because he'd turned the Ravenclaw down. He'd warned Terry about that, being to fact driven and make stupid assumptions. But Terry had kept up because he thought Harry was a sure thing. Love starved celebrity, Harry thought, Lonely and unsure of himself with nothing but his work to distract him. Terry must have thought he was a sure thing. "Smarmy bastard." He ought to have sex with Draco just to pay Terry back. Merlin's bollocks he was stupid. Famous, lonely, and stupid what a winning combination.

"What's wrong mate?" Ron asked curiously. "Did you ask him?"

"No." Harry snarled. "And I'm ready to go as soon as you finish your drinks."

Harry turned back and glared at the landing once more as they caught sight of him. Terry's face was smug and calculating and Draco looked like he'd just seen Voldemort in a pink tutu.

"Well Draco, it appears you are all out of excuses," Terry ribbed him. "There his is. Go get him."

"Um, Terry," Draco began, consigning Harry Potter to the lowest circle of hell.

"A bets a bet, Malfoy."

Draco put his empty glass down on the rail and thought fast. Potter did not look happy. Actually he looked rather angry, so the odds were he could get the other man to dinner. "Look, Terry, sex is not in the cards. I'm cheap, but I'm not slimy. You want to bet ten bucks on a pickup, fine, but that's it. Nothing with a future."

"Terry shook his head. "Oh on, I'll bet on the pickup, too, ten galleons if you leave with him. But the ten-thousand is still on. If you lose…" He smiled and at that moment Draco wondered why the boy had never been sorted into Slytherin. "You owe me a very large amount of galleons and you get the knowledge that you aren't the smooth talking prince you were in school anymore."

"Terry…"

"What are you waiting for?" Terry prodded. "He's waiting for you."

"Who?" Pansy asked having just returned from the loo.

"Draco?" Terry smirked.

"Draco?" Pansy queried.

"Fuck!" Draco spat.

"I love this." Theo grinned.

"What?" Blaise asked still starring at the Weasley look-a-like with undisguised lust in his eyes.

Draco sighed, tossed back the remainder of his drink and pushed away from the rail. It was either the Boy-Who-Lived or Pansy whose brain had been addled by wedding bells. "I'm sorry. I'm seeing someone, excuse me." And without another word, Draco pushed past Pansy and Terry to make his way down the steps and across the sea of dancers, all the while wishing them the worst possible future ever that they would end up together. As he navigated his way toward Potter, Draco tried to think of something to say to the other man.

Harry watched Draco moved toward him. The git. If Draco thought he could get to him in a month, that he was so pathetic that he would just—

His brain caught up with his train of thought and Harry stood a little straighter and tried to school his features into something a bit more pleasant. "One bloody month…" He growled under his breath.

Draco sauntered across the room through the dancers ignoring the hands grasping at him and the women displaying themselves lustily for him.

He was coming to pick Harry up.

Harry tilted his head and thought about it. Perhaps I should let him. I could make him pay for the next three weeks by stringing the bastard along until Gin's wedding. Draco couldn't possibly leave him, he had to stick with it for a month to win his damnable bet, and Gin's wedding was three weeks away. Harry settled back against the bar to examine the idea thoroughly. The bastard more than deserved to be tortured for the next three weeks. And in that three weeks he could figure out a way to make Terry suffer as well. And Molly Weasley would have a fit! All in all, the plan looked like a gem.

The bartender came back and Harry turned. "One more shot of tequila, please. Actually make that a double."

"That's you're third and forth." Hermione pointed out. "What are you doing?"

"Was he rude to you, mate?" Ron asked ready to whip out his wand and inflict justice.

"I never spoke to him." Harry grunted waving them away. "Move down the bar will you? I'm about to get hit on and you're cramping my style."

"I think we missed something." Ron muttered. Hermione nodded and narrowed her eyes at her best friend hating when she was left out of things.

Harry turned away from his friends when the bartender poured his next two shots so when Draco spoke from beside him, he jerked his head up and caught the full intensity of the Malfoy stare unprepared. Molten mercury eyes, perfect cheekbones, feathery blonde hair perfectly framing his exquisite face and a mouth Harry could lose himself kissing. His heart kicked up into his throat, he swallowed reflexively. Down boy, Harry told himself when felt the telltale stirrings in his groin.

"I have a problem." Draco said, his voice a smooth tenor warm enough to be charming and rich enough to clog arties. His voice was like aged fire whisky, it went down smooth and turned everything inside into an inferno.

Harry eyed him speculatively. "Problem? I doubt very much you've had many of those in your life Malfoy."

The blond nodded. "Well, usually my line is 'Can I buy you a drink?' but you already seem to have one." He smiled at Harry radiating masculinity through his expertly tailored black trousers and his fitted dove grey button-down.

"Well that is a problem." Harry assented.

"So what I thought," He paused his voice becoming more husky. Bloody Hell, Harry thought. "Was that we could go somewhere else, and I could buy you dinner."

Draco scooted closer and Harry's heart hammered. It was official, Draco Malfoy was the used broom salesman of seducers, Harry decided trying to get his distance back by scooting down the bar a bit. The blonde's smile disappeared as he waited for Harry's answer and he actually looked vulnerable like he was taking a chance just asking him out. Yep, Harry thought, he fakes vulnerable like a pro. It almost made him feel bad, but then he remembered the son-of-bitch was doing this for ten lousy galleons. Actually, he was trying to do him for ten galleons, the truth of it almost made his blood boil. Bastard! Well, calming his libido seemed a lot easier now, time to make the sucker pay.

"Dinner?" Harry asked innocently. "We've seen each other a handful of times in six years, Malfoy. Why on earth would you want to take me to dinner?"

"Well," Draco sighed. "Time changes all things. Besides, you like someone who has a lot of interesting things to say, and I'm someone who would like to hear them."

Harry smirked. "If that's a line Draco Malfoy, it's the worst one I think I've ever heard." He chucked. "Does it usually work for you?"

Draco froze for a second and his smile faltered. "Well it has, up until now." He replied sheepishly.

The brunet could hold back a smile. "It must be the presentation." Harry said after a moment. "You deliver it magnificently."

"Thank you." Draco nodded. "Let's try this again then." He held out his hand, "Hi I'm Draco Malfoy, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Harry Potter," The brunet said with a smile as he took Draco's hand firmly in his own. Both men shivered at the importance on that one action. "And my friends would call me crazy if I left this club with a Malfoy." He added with a devilish glint in his eyes.

"Well, you can hardly worry, if I get fresh you can always apparate home." Draco pointed out.

"Sounds fair enough," Harry smiled. "Let's go eat."

"Anytime gorgeous." Draco murmured.

Harry stopped dead in tracks. "First, you have to promise me that you wont use anymore lame lines on me." Harry said, and watched Draco's jaw clench.

"Anything you want." He replied smoothly.

Harry shook his head. "I suppose you can't help it. And free food is always a plus." He answered turning to lay a five pound not on the bar. "Let's go."

Harry walked away before Draco could say anything else and he followed behind past a dumbfounded Ron and a delighted Hermione. The moved through the sea of dancers and up on the landing by the door and the last thing Harry saw before he left was an outraged looking Terry Boot standing extremely close to a very confused Pansy Parkinson.

The evening was turning out much better than he'd expected.