Flashback Para: A Little Scandal
@zachariashsmith | continued from this. LOCATION: The Leaky Cauldron, Diagon Alley DATE: Shortly after the wedding of Draco Malfoy & Astoria Greengrass (2002~2003)
It takes Draco a few seconds to process exactly what Smith means by that statement -- what would his dear wife think. When he does sort it out, he barks a laugh. “You,” Draco says, speaking with slow clarity, his voice hovering on the edge between drawl and slur, “have been spending too much time with blood-traitors and mu...and mud...muh...bloody hell what are they called? Not Mudblood. You know. The nice word for that, what is it again?”
It’s frustrating. He’s made such an effort of switching his vocabulary over theses past five years, but for some reason he just can’t call the word to mind right now. It’s as though his senses are all fuzzed, befuddled -- perhaps he’s been struck with a Confundus Charm, he thinks absently, but then the rest of Zacharias’s words meander their languid way past his senses and Draco looks down at the empty glass in the arm that isn’t currently dangling off Smith’s shoulders, and realizes that the more likely explanation is that he’s drunk.
That’s annoying. He hadn’t intended to get drunk, not here -- not out in public. It isn’t safe here. Why is he here, anyway? He should be home in the manor, secure behind his home’s high walls and sturdy wrought-iron gates and generational layers of wards and spellwork. But he was hoping to meet someone here, that was it -- a meeting on neutral ground. An old friend, one who hadn’t come to the wedding -- hadn’t sent regrets, or had those regrets just been too transparent to be viable? Draco can’t remember; he just remembers sitting here, alone and sad, and drinking yet another glass of wine to pass the time because the alternative was giving up...
That thought shakes Draco back to the topic at hand and he continues, “You’ve lost your grip on proper behavior, Smith. A scandal, really? What kind of uncivilized half-blood nonsense is this, implying it would be a scandal...pfft.” He waves his hand dismissively, the motion enough to make him wobble so that he has to tighten his grip on Zacharias’s shoulder lest he fall. He’s not sure exactly when he ended up over by Smith’s table -- or was it the other way around? -- but he’s here now, and walking anywhere else unaided seems like more effort than it’s worth, so he might as well keep the conversation going. No one else is here to talk to him, after all...
“The only scandal I can see anyone extrapolating out of this is the fact that I’m so clearly out of your league, it would be embarrassing for me to be caught bedding you,” Draco smirks, and it’s patently a lie -- or at least an out-of-date statement. Maybe once upon a time, the Malfoys soared highly enough to look down on families like the Smiths...but that time died on the other side of the war. If anything, any scandal was very much the other way around now.












