Addicted

Draco Malfoy had long ago grown out of his obsession with grand parties. The beginning of his Ministry career had been littered with them, and he’d made an impression every single time. Now that he was older he was tired of them. He refused to hold anything bigger than a dinner in Malfoy Manner, no matter how much Pansy begged him. He was only here as a favour to her. In truth, it was more like a deal. She had promised to let him have one night to himself every week if only he would attend at least one gather a month. He had not grumbled when she had selected this party, merely asked what robes he ought to wear to match hers.

This was how Draco had found himself in his finest dark green robes outside the new Nott mansion. The door was wide open and as they walked through the hall Draco’s eyes trailed over a portrait of Mrs Millicent Nott née Bullstrode. He had escaped sitting through the wedding reception only because his mother-in-law’s Birthday was the same month. They had been married for nearly six months now and everyone had had time to get used to it.

Draco had not visited Nott since he had moved into his new home and neither he nor Pansy knew where the party was being held. They managed to follow the sound of voices through the house into a grand hall. It was full of middle aged witches and wizards. The women were dressed in form-fitting robes of green, silver or black and carrying flutes of champagne as they circulated the hall, complementing one another and their hosts with regular sips of their drinks. The men, dressed almost entirely in black dress robes, were carrying tall glasses of what Draco expected to be Fire Whisky, which always had been Nott’s alcoholic beverage of choice and were talking about their work. It was the kind of atmosphere that Pansy revelled in and that Draco found utterly boring. After providing Pansy with the obligatory flute of champagne Draco found his way to an unoccupied corner of the room where he watched the proceedings. People flitted past him in twos or threes without even noticing him. Draco recognized a few of them; Crabbe and Goyle, Blaise Zabini accompanying his second wife Tracey and even Victor Krum. None of them noticed him. Five years ago Draco wouldn’t have stood for this but now, he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

However, when Theodore Nott himself sauntered past, Draco knew that Pansy would find out if he didn’t speak out. Then she would be able to make his life hell for at least three weeks.

“Nott.” Draco’s voice was cold, his eyes focused on the rain falling outside the high arched windows. Draco didn’t need to see Theodore stop, look around and recognize him. He barely needed to hear the words, for he knew what they would be.

“Malfoy. How pleasant to see you here. I hope you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Felicitations, Nott. Happy Birthday.” Draco forced himself to smile, and to look into Theodore’s eyes. He saw in them exactly what he had known he would.

“Happiest of my life. I missed you at the wedding, Malfoy. I appreciated the gift, though.”

“My apologies. It was unavoidable.” Everyone in the pureblood world knew what that phrase really meant, but no one ever said so, and it was always accepted with utmost politeness.

“Of course, of course. If you will excuse me, I have other guests to attend to.” Draco said nothing, it didn’t matter, Theodore was already moving off. Draco searched the Hall for Pansy and found her eyes boring into him while she conversed with a senior member of the Ministry. She knew he wanted to leave and he knew she wouldn’t let him. He ventured out of his corner, and her eyes smiled at him before returning to the man in front of her. Draco collected a large glass of Fire Whisky before he found himself another corner to shelter in. His wife could drag him to these parties but she couldn’t force him to socialise with people, that was what he always counted on.

As the afternoon turned to evening most of the guest were becoming livelier and Draco was forced to remind two older women that he was married. As his gaze explored the room Draco didn’t mind admitting that there were people there he wouldn’t turn away quite so brusquely. Unfortunately, none of them approached him. It was nearly midnight before Pansy came over, her cheeks flushed from the excitement of the evening’s dancing.

“We can go now, Darling.” Her hands grasped his arm and she pressed her body against his own. He knew she would not notice his sigh and he put a hand on her lower back to guide her toward the exit. The skirted around three of Malfoy’s work colleagues and were collecting their cloaks when their progress was interrupted.

“Pansy, Draco. You’re not leaving are you? It’s still early.”

“I’m afraid so, Millicent.” Draco’s reply was as smooth as if he had practiced it. “I’ve got an early meeting tomorrow.” Millicent probably saw through his lie but when she smiled Draco knew he was almost out, if only Pansy wouldn’t say anything.

“Draco, darling, I must just see Millicent’s wedding dress, since I couldn’t attend the wedding. You’ll just wait here, won’t you?” It wasn’t really a question, Pansy was already dragging Millicent towards the stairs, chattering away.

Draco had just finished fastening his cloak when he heard a voice coming towards him. He would have recognized it as Theodore's even if it hadn't been calling for Millicent. When Nott drew into sight Draco, whose gaze was fixed on the grand cloak in the corner, greeted him.

“She's showing Pansy her wedding dress. They'll be down shortly, and then I'm afraid we'll be leaving.”

“Leaving?” It was obvious to Draco that Nott had indulged in a fair amount of Fire Whisky. Enough to loosen his tongue a little but not so much that it would have any lasting affect on him. Draco had always admired how well Theodore held his drink. “You haven't even had a drink with me yet, Malfoy.”

“Terribly sorry, Nott. I've got an early meeting tomorrow. I really must go as soon as Pansy returns.” Draco knew Theodore's expressions well enough to read annoyance in his face, but there was something else there also, probably brought out by the Fire Whisky.

“Then you'll just have to drink with me right now.” Theodore moved offer, lifting his glass to Draco's face, offering it to him.

“I'd rather not. My apologies.” Draco's face was set firm and he met Nott's eyes with no emotion. Theodore was not so guarded and Draco could see the wounded pride as easily as if it were tattooed over his forehead.

“It's my birthday. You won't have a drink with me on my birthday?” Draco was about to reply when Theodore opened his mouth again. “After everything we were, you won't share a drink with me?”