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08 | Remembrance Ball

 ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ・☽ ༓ ☾・  ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶  ̶̶̶̶

The glittering, starry lights and immaculately dressed people could almost make you forget the terrors of the war. Almost. But for Draco Malfoy, standing in the ballroom of mingling people exchanging pleasantries felt like a farce. The war was not pleasant. And it felt bizarre to celebrate in its honor.

"Don't worry, it makes us feel weird too," Harry voiced Draco's thoughts.

He turned to see the decorated war hero striding up to him with his lovely wife on his arm. Ginny was dressed in an elegant midnight blue gown that made her flaming red hair stand out more than usual.

"I was told there would be consequences if I didn't come," Draco looked at Ginny pointedly.

"It's for your own good," she tutted him. "You haven't seen the light of the sun in weeks."

"It's technically night time, love," Harry murmured in amusement.

"You know what I mean!"

"How are you feeling?" Draco asked Ginny, affectionately dropping a peck to her cheek.

If anyone had told him a few years ago that he'd be attending ministry events with the Potters and greeting the Weaslette so affectionately, he'd send them packing straight to St. Mungos. But sometimes life leads you in weird directions like that.

"Like I need this little bugger to get out of me as soon as possible," Ginny heaved dramatically. "I swear, I have never been so bloody frustrated over sleeping positions in my life."

"Well hopefully not too soon," Draco laughed. "Then again if you popped out a baby Potter right here and now, I'm sure the ministry would find a way to commemorate that too."

"When is Hermione coming?" Harry asked nervously. "They're doing the welcome speeches soon, and you know they always have us stand up there for it like bloody peacocks."

"Afraid you might have to do it alone now that Ron took off with the Yanks?" Ginny grinned.

Her youngest brother had picked up the mantle and helped George run the joke shop after the war. His strategy skills had helped his brother expand his products to practically the entire continent. Now their next goal was America, and Ron had insisted on scoping out the best vendors personally.

"Terrified," Harry said, entirely serious. "I'd rather fight off a hoard of death eaters than be paraded around these people as the Ministry's poster boy."

"That's what you get for being the boy who just bloody well would not die," Draco smirked.

Harry's anxious expression settled when he laid his eyes on something in the distance behind Draco and Ginny's shoulders.

"Well then it's a good thing someone always has my back."

Ginny glanced back, her lips pulling into an impressed grin. "She always did clean up nicely."

Draco stiffened, almost bracing himself before he needed to turn around. True to his word, he'd gone through great lengths to muzzle his wolf. Despite what he told Granger, he really hadn't wanted them to keep their distance. But he'd also known the only reason she was being this gracious towards him was because he'd been mauled, and he couldn't stand the idea of her pitying him enough to allow him to hang around. And unlike what he'd told the Potters, getting a leash on his wolf was one of the hardest things he'd done in his life, and it was a struggle every day. If work didn't wear him down, his wolf surely did. The mangy mutt hadn't shut its trap about Granger since he'd walked out of her apartment months ago.