I nod. "I think I have to."
"Blaise has told everyone you're ill, you know," she says, reaching for a croissant that's on the plate between us. "Eat."
I take a blueberry muffin, picking at it agitatedly. "I've been…spending time with someone else."
Her eyes widen. She's practically drooling at the prospect of insider information. It's only saved from being called gossip by the fact she knows that I'd murder her if she repeated this to anyone. "Who?"
"Someone rather inappropriate," I mutter.
"Are they poor? Muggle-born? Revolutionary?" she asks, and then she gasps. "It's a man isn't it?"
I nod.
"You know the Greengrass's are going to arrange a meeting for you and Astoria next week?" she says seriously.
I blanch. "The meeting? Next week? Oh fuck."
"Yes oh fuck," she says grimly as I press my palms to my face, my elbows on the table. Fuck propriety right now, I'm about to have a seizure. "And if you've been blowing off your responsibilities to go out gallivanting with some man-"
"Harry Potter."
"HARRY POTTER?" she screeches and I wince. God she's shrill sometimes. "You've been fucking around with Harry Potter?"
"No!" I insist. "Well, yes, it's him, but it's just hanging out, spending time together. Not fucking around per se-"
"What?" Suddenly she's stopped shrieking and looks a lot more suspicious and I'm not sure why. Surely me fucking him would be more scream-worthy than me just spending time with him?
"We've not been…doing anything we shouldn't have," I say, my face colouring. "Just owling each other a lot, and going shopping, and having drinks-"
"So let me get this straight…that thing in the Prophet wasn't a one off publicity stunt like you passed it off as?" she asks, speaking slowly.
"No, that was the first time but I've seen him loads since then…what? Why're you looking at me like that?"
She's staring at me, biting her lip. "Draco, you like him."
Oh. That's why she's looking at me like that. That lot work on a foundation of sex, money and politics, I remind myself. God forbid any of us just liking someone, I mean how scandalous would that be?
Dickheads, all of them.
I rub my face. "Yes, I like him. Hence being fucked."
"And you're not even viciously denying it, or shouting or sulking," she says in wonder. "Wow."
"I know," I despair. "And I spoke to Granger the other day without insulting her, and Finnegan shook my hand-"
"You've been hanging out with his friends?"
"Only the once," I say hastily.
"Blaise is going to shit," she says, fingers on her lips to stop the giggles.
"Pansy!" I snap, not bothering to tell her that's exactly what I thought.
"Sorry, sorry," she says, picking up her croissant and taking a bite, brushing away crumbs. "Well, you're obviously quite taken with Potter if you're putting up with his friends, but you're meant to be marrying Astoria."
"I know," I say quietly. "I can't choose. I don't know if I can give up on all this even if I'm shit at it…but if I want to keep hanging out with Potter-"
"It's not just hanging out if you're head over heels in love with him," Pansy tells me. "What're you going to do if he finds out you've got the hots for him?"
I bite my lip. "Well, he already told everyone that he likes me."
"He does?" she asks eagerly. "Oh, Draco-"
"No, not oh Draco-" I snap. "I can't be with Potter- if this goes any further you lot will toss me out on my arse. I won't be welcome anywhere, I'll lose my job-"
"You shut up and listen to me," she snaps back and I immediately quiet. Fifteen years of friendship with Pansy has taught me not to argue with that tone. "You are in love." She punctuates between each word by jabbing me in the arm with a finger. "That doesn't happen every damn day and definitely not for you. You hatethis whole society lifestyle, I know you do and it's pathetic that you're sulking about being left out of it just because you hate being left out in general."
"They'll all talk about me behind my back-" I try.
"They're doing that now anyway!" she says and I wince. "If you leave and run off into the sunset with Potter, it won't be any worse, and at least you'll be shagging Potter as a distraction."
"You're terrible," I say with a small smile.
"I learned from you," she quips, and then she takes a deep breath. "Whatever you do, I will always love you, and I will always be around to tell you when you're being stupid. They won't stop me knowing you because frankly, they can't."
"Why can't I be like you?" I say. "And have people in both worlds?"
"Because you're a pushover and I am not, and because it's Potter. I'm still marrying the right person in their eyes and I like the expensive formal lifestyle." she says and takes my hand. "Do it. Take a gamble and make your own life. Your mother will support you, so will I, and it's what you've always wanted. You need this, Draco, or you're going to spend the rest of your life drunk and violent and wishing you'd got out when you had the chance. Not to mention you'll get to shag Potter. I bet half the Wizarding world want to shag Potter."
A fraction of a smile lifts the corner of my mouth. I know she's right, but I'm not ready to admit it. "I'll think about it," I tell her and she sighs.
"You're impossible, you know that."
"Wouldn't be me if I weren't."
I spend the next thirteen days skulking around my house, only leaving to go to work and flooing in directly to the offices to avoid seeing anyone I don't have to. Harry keeps owling me and I grudgingly owl back, only because he and Apollo both get shitty with me if I don't.
My heart wants to owl Potter every damn day but my head is being slightly more cautious. This is my life in the balance.
Apollo swoops in late one evening, carrying a letter from Harry, a direct reply to the note I sent him not an hour earlier.
I don't know whether to smile or scowl as I read it
Draco
The sun is not evil and that's a shit excuse for not wanting to leave your house. I haven't seen you in a fortnight and my owl's getting tired.
Tomorrow- the café, 6pm.
