An Interference of Portraits

Torture at the Gala Dinner

It took an age for all of us to leave Grimmauld Place and make our way to the Ministry. I was the last to leave with Luna, Draco and Lavender and just before I left, I pulled one of the green carnations from the vase of flowers that Draco had sent me, snapped its stalk, and carefully pinned it to my jacket lapel. I decided against charming it darker as I thought of the queer actor sitting in Merrion Square. I'd kicked myself when I finally realised who he was after the event.

Draco smiled fondly. 'Bold move,' he said.

'Purposefully. I'm not going to hide who I am going forward.'

I wasn't wrong when I declared the night was going to be torturous. I didn't care about toasts or my birthday or red carpets and photographs or fancy thousand-course meals or speeches or dancing. I just wanted to find Draco's hand and drag him home with me and carry on where we'd left off.

No such luck.

Still, I was proud to arrive with Luna on my arm and have a billion flashlights go off in our faces as photograph after photograph was taken of us. And I knew that every headline on every paper would be questioning the nature of our relationship, particularly if anyone understood the meaning of the green carnation which was then to be confused by Luna standing on her tip toes and giving me a kiss on my cheek before whispering in my ear, 'that will keep them guessing for a bit longer.'

'I think you're related to the Unseelie,' I said with a teasing smile. 'Sometimes, you're quite naughty, Luna Lovegood.'

'Don't be silly, Harry Potter,' she said and led me up the steps and into the Ministry Function Room.

The Ministry Function Room really was quite spectacular, all done out with large swathes of black and white chiffon material that all reached towards the enormous central chandeliers so it looked like we were in a huge tent. Only there were fairy lights in the ceiling that twinkled like stars above the large round tables that seated twelve. I was pleased to note that at least Draco and I were at the same table with Luna and Lavender, Ron and Hermione, Blaise and Ginny, Dean and Seamus, and Neville and Hannah. But I found I was seated between Luna and Hermione and that frustrated me as I looked at Draco sitting between Lavender and Hannah and discussing the logo for the Home Nations. Our table was central and right next to the black and white chequered dance floor, on the other side of which was a stage where an orchestra played. The theme seemed to be Wizarding Chess and there were little touches here and there that picked up on it, like chocolate favours on the table that looked like the Knight pieces or a little embroidered Rook on the napkins. It wasn't over the top, just a hint and I wondered if it was a nod to our first year and Ron's heroics though perhaps I was reading too much into it.

I reminded myself that the cutlery ran from the outside-in as the bread was brought to the table by waiters with white gloves and pristine napkins folded over their forearms. And I smiled to myself because they were, indeed, all wearing tailcoats. Thank Merlin for Mr Cargador!

Draco and I couldn't help catching eyes time and time again, small smiles that concealed hidden knowledge were exchanged and I longed to find time alone with him, to give myself to him.

By the time the after-dinner speeches began, we'd managed to swap seats around the table and Luna and Lavender were sitting together and I was sitting between Ron and Draco with Draco's leg pushed against mine under the long tablecloth and I was very aware of his occasional teasing, glancing touches that appeared to be nothing to a casual onlooker but meant everything to me.

I was barely listening when Kingsley stood up and went to the stage, more focused on Draco's hand resting idly on my leg again, his fingers occasionally dipping towards my inner thigh. I know Kingsley talked about the build up to the war, and he thanked me profusely for all I'd done, and he thanked me for sharing celebrating my birthday now that I'd returned from my travels, not that I had much bloody choice in that. But I wasn't listening to his words. There were numerous rounds of applause and I was finding it hideously embarrassing and just wanted everyone to stop fucking staring. I just smiled and focused on Draco's running small circles over the soft material of my trousers. That is, until the bottom fell out of my world because the words somehow slipped through my zoned-out haze and I heard Kingsley say, 'although it feels somewhat belated, on behalf to the Ministry of Magic it gives me the greatest of honour to award Mr Harry Potter, for services to the Magical World, with the Order of Merlin, first class...'