An Interference of Portraits

Hangovers

I slept most of Sunday morning or, at least, languished in my bed. Mostly out of exhaustion but with an added bout of intense anxiety.

I blamed the drink. And Lucius. And Minerva. Mostly Minerva really... but Lucius too.

The cooking had been fine, I liked it, Draco's barbeque was perfect, just the right size for such a big party. There was a steady supply of beer as I cooked and that too was fine, I didn't over do it, just enjoyed myself as I worked. And because I wasn't the centre of attention, I could just get on with turning burgers and sausages and listening to the conversations and laughter flowing around me and the music from the radio drifting out from the kitchen. And Teddy was climbing from lap to lap having attention lavished upon him. It was great.

It had all been going very well until I sat down at the extended table on the patio and Mr Kreacher had produced some exceptional quality wine. I suppose it was the same as the hero thing: it's easier to be "doing" than stopping afterwards and thinking about things and performing to expectations when everyone's looking at me and asking me questions and generally sticking their nose in where it isn't bloody wanted.

I'm not sure how it happened but I ended up sitting between Draco and Luna on one of the garden benches that I'd fixed earlier. We'd brought the benches up because we needed the additional seating for all twenty-six of us, though Victoire sat on Bill's lap and Teddy sat on my lap for most of the meal. That was before Dromeda and Cissa took Teddy and Victoire up to Teddy's newly decorated bedroom and put the two very tired three-year-olds into one bed to sleep until home time.

I didn't want to question how it was that Draco and I always ended up drifting together. I liked to think that Luna and I offered him a security as much as Draco and Luna seemed to be able to tell exactly when it was that I was on edge and struggling.

And perhaps he should have been with Blaise and Pansy or with his parents but the table wasn't that divided and Narcissa and Dromeda now seemed inseparable with Teddy often cuddled against 'Aunty Cissa' as much as me. And Pansy was practically sitting on George's knee anyway and Blaise and Gin, well, they were joined at the hip, much to Ron's discomfort. It wasn't actually that Ron disapproved of Blaise, they had bonded over food and Quidditch over time, it was just that Ron couldn't cope with the thought of his youngest sibling growing up and finding their way in the world. He couldn't help being rather protective of them. He never had coped with that when I think back to our Hogwarts days and when Gin started dating. It must have been hell for him that I got together with them. He hid it well, but I can imagine, after the fact, that it would have been more uncomfortable that it was me over anyone else. We knew each other too well, we shared everything... well, most things. I hadn't really ever talked to Ron about me and Gin but he must have guessed in the same way as I knew about him and Hermione. It made me cringe to think about.

Anyway, I suppose it wasn't surprising that, as the evening drew on, talk turned to me and what I was doing next and I felt a familiar pressure building. I couldn't answer, I didn't know the answers. I just knew I didn't want to be an Auror. Or an Entrepreneur. Though I liked the financial involvement; that felt useful and exciting.

As the conversation became more involved, more probing, I felt Draco subtly shift on one side, and, to my surprise, then his hand rested firmly on my thigh under the table and his leg pressed against mine, because he must have guessed I needed that support. Though to anyone else, he must have just looked very relaxed as he leant back in his seat. On my other side, Luna squirmed closer on the bench, her arm linking through mine and she actually rested her head on my shoulder. It helped me breathe, just having them both there and that physical contact. And I know people watched me, trying to work the situation. I suppose it must have made an interesting picture, me with my raven-black hair, sandwiched between the two cousins with the white-blond hair of the Malfoy gene. I suspected, if not hoped, that no one had noticed that Draco had his hand beneath the table on my leg. And, for those who didn't know any better about me, there must have been an assumption that Luna and I were together but neither of us moved to break the illusion. It worried me that the Gala Dinner would only reinforce this image because I knew the day would come when I would have to break the news about my sexual preferences and I feared the response that I'd get. Not from the outside world, but from the people sat around my table. I feared rejection from those I loved most in this world.