Sour Grapes

Chapter 5 - Lovers and Tears

Draco still didn't feel ready.

His stomach was in knots as he and Blaise shook off the discomfort of apparition and entered the front gates of the Delacour estate. The path before them was magically illuminating itself under their feet as they walked, the bright blue-white light following them and leaving the earth behind them in darkness. It was a spell that Draco hadn't seen before, but it reminded him of his hand of glory and the uses he had once put it to.

He got lost in thought about the night of Dumbledore's death, logically reasoning out that Dumbledore had set it up and willingly allowed it to happen. Draco had been a pawn in multiple schemes that evening, not the guilty party. And yet, the fact that Draco had been ignorant of Dumbledore's alliance with Severus caused him to disregard that as a valid argument for his own innocence. He had brought death eaters into the school where his friends lived. He had been possessed by darkness.

He shook his head. Leave it to him to go down a dark mental path whilst walking along a beautifully lit one. Blaise looked over at his friend, cottoning on to the fact that he was mentally somewhere else. He leaned down to catch Draco's eye with a grin.

"Isn't this simply enchanting, darling?" he mused.

Draco snapped free of his worried mind and looked up at Blaise.

"Are you planning to call me darling all night? Is this to be YOUR 'coming-out' party, Blaise?" He was always quick to recover, it was one of the benefits of having studied occlumency. Shut down one thought and lock it away quickly, then pick up the next and act with bold dexterity that causes the other party to believe you were never anywhere but the present moment.

"It can be ours, lover!" he proclaimed into the night. Draco shook his head and let out a quiet laugh.

"I'm just trying to ease the tension, I know how wound up you must be. And after all, what sort of boyfriend would I be if I weren't ready willing and able to soothe your angst?"

"I am not wound up, but I will be if you try to snog me in front of.... well, anyone really, so let's keep the joking to a discrete minimum, yes?"

"Does that mean I can snog you in private?" he asked dryly.

"Fucking wanker."

"Ok fine, I can be done with the homoerotic bullshit," he drew himself up and puffed out his chest with an ironic air of haughtiness, "to be honest I don't fancy you like that anyway. Just trying to take your mind off things."

"Well thanks for the clarification, but my mind and my person are about to be right smack in the middle of things -quite literally- thanks to your meddling and your infuriating insistence on torturing me, so let's please get this over with so I can get home and drink myself into a stupor."

They had reached the front doors of the estate now and were waiting in what looked like a reception line to enter the manor.

Bollocks, so much for a covert entrance, he thought to himself.

He let out a sharp, steadying breath, and Blaise studied him worriedly.

"You going to be all right, mate?" he asked with tentative concern.

"You're asking me that now? Seriously? You're the one who said I'd be alright!"

His raised voice of frustration caused a few of the witches around them to turn a stare. Thankfully, they were foreign and did not recognize him.

"Easy there, Draco, no need to create a scene merely to confirm your own prediction that your presence here would result in one. I was merely checking in with you, but I will cease all efforts from here and trust that you can handle yourself without my support."