"You owe me one."

I had just gotten in from the Ministry, after spending the entire day trying desperately to catch up with paperwork. It was the day before New Years Eve.

Draco had been left at home again with the boys, and thankfully, this time, he hadn't spent the day bombarding me with texts. Although that may have had a lot to do with the fact that I had turned my phone off.

"It just sounds so... Slytherin," I groaned, "and I'm the least Slytherin ever."

"You're more Slytherin than you think, Potter," Draco chuckled, handing me a much-needed glass of wine as I collapsed exhausted on the sofa.

I wrinkled my nose, the idea disgusted me.

"You sound just like the Sorting Hat," I scoffed, swigging the wine as Draco plonked himself on the other end of the sofa, twirling a glass in his own hand.

"What do you mean by that?" he looked at me enquiringly, his eyebrow cocked ever so slightly.

"Oh, just that it wanted to put me in Slytherin during my Sorting," I said dismissively.

Draco choked, almost spitting his wine everywhere.

"I KNEW IT!" he spluttered.

I sighed. "Yes, but Draco, the thing is I could never be a true Slytherin."

"Why not? You have the qualities. And I always said, didn't I, that we would have made a good team from the start."

"Because I hate Slytherin. And I was never going to be your Pansy Parkinson." I jeered, looking at him contemptuously.

"No, because you're so much more than that, Potter," Draco drawled, his eyes twinkling zealously.

"I'm not being funny, Draco, but what sort of team did you see us becoming? If I remember rightly, your views on the wizarding world back then were, how shall I put it, a little misguided."

"Alright, alright." Draco sighed bitterly, slumping back resignedly into the sofa. "So Potter became a Gryffindor and then all was right with the world."

"Got it in one." I winked.

"You still owe me, though," Draco grumbled. "I've yet to recover from Boxing Day."

"Alright, I'll go to your poxy party."

***

I decided to wear my most fabulous of red dresses. I was going to show those Slytherins what for.

The way Draco's jaw dropped when I entered the kitchen told me I had made the right choice. Oh yes. I still had it.

"Damn, Potter," he growled, his eyes roaming up and down my body hungrily.

He quickly averted them when Albus came stomping in after me.

"Did you get my special crisps in, Mum?" He barked, barging past me as he headed straight for the cupboard.

"Yes," I said through gritted teeth, at my rude, ungrateful child. He didn't even mention the awesome dress I was wearing.

"Wow, you look nice, Etta," Scorpius said, entering the kitchen from behind me.

"Oi!" Albus said, spinning around and glaring at his friend. "That's my mother!"

Scorpius immediately went a deep shade of red, "I- I didn't mean..."

"Oh, ignore my moody son, Scorp. And thank you, by the way." I smiled sweetly at Scorpius before turning to glare at Albus. "You know, it wouldn't have hurt you to compliment your mother, Al."

Albus just shrugged, stuffing crisps into his greedy gob.

"Now, we are trusting you boys to be good," Draco said, sounding very dad-like all of a sudden. "We've got our phones, and we will be back not long after midnight."

Ugh. Midnight seemed so long away.

We said our goodnights and climbed into the limo.

"Why couldn't we just Apparate?" I grumbled, taking a seat opposite Draco, "It's not like we've got the boys with us."

"Appearances, Potter," he drawled derisively, "Not that you would understand."

God, he was such a snob.

"If you're so worried about appearances then why are you bringing me, I would have thought having Potter on your arm wasn't a very good look for you."

"Because I couldn't imagine surviving this night without you. And besides, as far as appearances go, you scrub up pretty well." His eyes glinted as they roamed over me again.

"I'd say you did too, but you're always in a suit anyway, so tonight you look no different." I shrugged.

"So, you're saying I look good all the time?" he smirked.

I narrowed my eyes, not wanting to admit he was right.

Draco chuckled, his eyes dancing in amusement. "How about a drink, Potter?" he offered, leaning over to grab a bottle of champagne from the limo's bar.

"God, yes please," I gasped, now he was talking, "I'm pretty sure it's the only way I'm going to survive tonight."

"You'll be fine, Potter," Draco drawled, his eyes glinting into mine as he popped the cork. "Trust me."

*****

"Shit," Draco muttered, looking out of the window as the limo rolled to a stop.

"What? What is it?" I said feeling panicked. I mean - it couldn't be a good sign when Draco says shit.

"Damn paparazzi are here," he gritted, his jaw clenched tensely, "I was informed this wouldn't be the case."

"The fucking what?!" I spluttered, dramatically wringing my hands through my hair. "You have got to be fucking me, Draco - I can't go through another humiliating article again!"

"Calm down, Potter. The boys know we're here together. You're just going to have to control yourself around me. You know, try not to stick your tongue down my throat or anything."

"Me?! Draco, I think it's obvious which one of us struggles with self control!"

Draco looked me up and down again, smirking. "You know, I've never been able to resist you in red," he growled huskily in my ear, just before stepping out of the limo, leaving me sat there flustered.

The fucker.

*****

"Potter!" An unfamiliar voice yelled out, "what colour underwear are you wearing tonight?"

What the fuck?!

I felt someone grab my arm, hastily dragging me past an onslaught of cameras.

"Don't just stand there, Potter," Draco's drawling voice sounded above my ear, "you look like a deer caught in headlights."

"What even is this?!" I cried, keeping my head down, away from the cameras.

Draco didn't answer, but instead continued to swiftly lead me up a stone staircase to the impressive mansion in front of us. The doors opened for us and we stepped inside.

In the safety of the grand hallway, Draco let go of my arm and immediately turned to me, an incredulous look upon his face. "I'd have thought that you, of all people, Potter, would be used to the paparazzi."

"No, actually, Draco," I said stoutly, "I chose to live my life away from all that garbage. I had far too many important things to do since saving the world rather than waste my time attending pretentious parties!"

"Yeah, well you're in my world now Potter, so get used to it."

He wheeled around and strode towards a large pair of double doors. I hurried behind him, my heels clicking noisily on the polished marble floor.

A man in a top and tails stood guarding the door. He bowed when Draco approached, opening the door for him with a white gloved hand.

"Welcome, Mr Malfoy and guest, welcome to the Parkinson New Years Eve Soirée."

Oh shit, here we go.

***