Solarium de Caritate

Chapter Two

July 1, 2000, Ministry Charity Ball, War Victims Fund, Ministry Ballroom Four

Another round of applause following another vapid speech. You'd think people would be tired of the sound of my voice by now.

I walk off the stage and find my friends, idly wondering if I can sneak off to that balcony again. It had been nice to breath freely at a Ministry function for once. And to talk to Malfoy, surprisingly enough. Maybe we could talk again tonight...

I dance with Hermione, and Ginny, and Charlene, and Ron, Ron and I laughing too hard as we both try to lead to dance properly, before finally making my escape after the four of them pair off and get too wrapped in each other to notice that I've left.

My Accio fails, and I realize Hermione has set up Wards around the bar to prevent me from doing exactly what I'd just tried to do. Rude.

Alcohol-less, but still looking forward to a breath of fresh air and a break from having hundreds of eyes on me has me skipping several steps on my way up to the second floor.

To my surprise, Draco is already there, sitting in much the same position as last time. And he has a bottle of red wine in his hand.

He's drinking from it when I walk through the glass doors, closing them behind me. He swallows and smiles. "Evening, Potter. Fancy a drink?"

"Yes, please."

He passes the bottle over as I sit down beside him.

"So, hiding from Hartwell again?"

I give him a surprised look. "How did you know...?"

"How many Trevors do you know? Especially those who are close to our age and attractive enough to catch the eye of our handsome Savior?" Draco is teasing, but the offhand compliment still makes my face heat.

"Alright, you have a point."

"I cannot believe you dated him," Draco says harshly. "Absolute git, that man."

I can't help laughing at that. "You've met?"

"Several times, unfortunately. Around the Ministry. Merlin, Potter, you really do have terrible taste."

"So I've been told," I agree solemnly, before abruptly changing the subject. I really don't want to talk about Trevor anymore. "Why were you so nice to me after I came out to you? I thought you'd go straight to the press."

He looks surprisingly offended by that. "I'm not the same person I used to be, Potter," he snaps. "I thought even you could see that by now."

A rush of guilt and shame floods through me, and I clear my throat uncomfortably.

"I can. I'm sorry, Malfoy. It's just...hard for me to trust people. A lot of people would have gone to the press. Even people I never thought capable of..."

I let the sentence trail off as my face twists at a particularly sharp memory. Laura. Another ex-girlfriend, right after Ginny. She'd refused to let me help pay for her mother's treatment at St. Mungo's when she'd contracted a rare magical illness, insisting she didn't want to be a charity case, but she had had no problem taking money from the Daily Prophet to cover the unexpected financial burden...

"I suppose that's true," Draco concedes, drawing me back to the present.

"I can see that you've changed, though," I add, passing the bottle over.

He takes a large swallow. "I'll give you another reason, if you can extend me the same courtesy of keeping my secret."

I take the bottle from him and take a sip of my own. "What do you mean?"