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It all starts, like so many other harebrained schemes, because of Theo.
More precisely because of Theo’s hangover and bleary-eyed declaration that perhaps they were all getting to the unfortunate point in their lives when staying up drinking until the sun rose wasn’t the best idea.
Pansy had called him a Ravenclaw dork, Theo had thrown a mug at her, and everything had descended into chaos and insults until Hermione had doused everyone in the kitchen with cold water.
“What are we supposed to do instead?” Pansy had complained as they’d all dried themselves off and Draco had made coffee. “Start a book club?”
“Yeah, Pans.” Theo had rolled his eyes. “We’ll start – wait no – actually-“ He’d leapt over and kissed her cheeks while she’d screeched and slapped him away. “That’s brilliant.”
“It is?” Pansy had raised her eyebrows at him.
“I haven’t read a book since Granger threw one at my face,” Theo said, with a sly glance towards her.
“That was six years ago, Theodore,” Hermione had murmured as she stirred her tea. “You’re hopeless.”
“Exactly.” Theo had spread his hands out with a casual shrug. “So a book club! We can drink red wine and gossip like a bunch of old hags.”
“Speak for yourself,” Draco had muttered with a raised eyebrow. “Some of us kept our youthful beauty.”
“Whatever.” Theo rolled his eyes again. “Blaise?”
“Whatever, Theo.” Blaise had avoided most of the water, and he looked relaxed and hardly hungover at all as he drank his coffee.
Theo had grinned and turned to Daphne. “Daph?”
“Sure. I like books.” She’d given him a shy smile.
“I know Granger will be down – which means it’s a majority.” He’d leaned up onto the kitchen counter and grinned as he tousled his hair. “But what are we going to read?”
“It’s your club,” Hermione had pointed out. “You figure it out.”
Which is how a week later they were drunk on red wine and reading excerpts from a muggle book – the cover had caught Theo’s eye and he’d bought enough for all of them – giggling and tipsy and not really making any effort at changing their Friday night habits.
“No, it’s fantastic, there’s this part where he sparkles-“ Draco laughed. “Let me find it again-“
“Are all muggle books like this?” Daphne had asked, sitting with her head leaning over the side of the sofa and her legs swung over the back. “Surely not?”
“I mean I haven’t read all of them,” Hermione had protested, and they’d all derided her with disbelieving comments. “I haven’t!”
“Just most,” Draco had murmured, pulling her into his lap and kissing the side of her neck. “Absolute swot. Can’t believe I married you.”
“Can’t believe I agreed to,” Hermione had said, and then she’d turned in his lap to kiss him until someone had thrown a sofa cushion at them.
Business as usual for the Slytherins on a Friday night – an excuse to drink too much and tease each other until they fell asleep sprawled together on the sofas.
And yet somehow, the book club continues. Theo delights in bringing a truly eclectic mixture – romance novels and science fiction and even, one week when he’d been nursing a bruised heart, children’s picture books. Always muggle books – always enough for everyone to have their own copy – always on Friday night, no excuses allowed.
Through deaths and births and marriages and break-ups the club continues – the entire vampiric saga shifting to epic fantasy to heartbreaking memoirs to everything in between. Their bookshelves fill to bursting and the bottles of wine dwindle to watered-down glasses as time spreads wrinkles around their eyes.
They blink, and ten years pass. They blink, and then it’s been two decades, sprawling around the Malfoy manor living room with books and children and spouses and bitter arguments and drunken and tearful declarations of eternal love and friendship.
But through it all – the trials and tribulations of friendships braided around each other like heartstrings, there is one thing that they all agree on.
Theo's never going to live down being Team Jacob.