Hail the Conquring Heroes! COMPLETE
If, as has been established, purple with apoplectic rage was a 'bad' look for Severus Snape, then it is now only fair to note that oozing pride and smug satisfaction was definitely a 'good' one. Or at least, as 'good' as it gets for someone who is, admittedly, not generally considered aesthetically appealing
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"Where is Theodore anyway? I'm still not done teasing him just for posterity's sake."
He glanced around the hall for his misplaced friend and absently murmured his order into his menu, something appropriately expensive and engineered for those with fine tastes. It had also been magically highlighted in red, probably by Severus some time in the last few seconds. Had Draco not been wondering just where Theodore had gotten himself off to, he might've shot the other man a dirty look.
As it was, Draco, who loved Pansy to slow and painful death and who had a history with Severus that very few people could boast having with anyone, at least Theodore was a relatively normal male presence, a familiar face, an old friend, and bisexual besides. If nothing else, Theodore had always been up for some heated flirting, and Draco hadn't been able to flirt with another man in the English language in Merlin only knew how long.
Draco couldn't flirt with Pansy, they'd passed out of that stage long ago, and as amusing as flirting with Severus might prove to be, Draco would probably have to be much less sober than he currently was to risk his life in such a manner.
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Indeed, as he looked about, it was impossible to deny his accusations. Most of the population under the age of thirty were either drunk, glued lip-to-lip with a near stranger, or both, all vying for shadowy corners in which to snog more privately. The dancing hadn't even begun yet, and already numerous people were dragging flushed and sweaty partners out the door toward their various hotel rooms.
Severus was revolted. Didn't people know what sorts of things might be done to a person during that exceedingly vulnerable act? Or what sorts of useful potions could be made from the various... bits and fluids... resulting from those baser urges?
And for Merlin's sake--half these people hadn't seen each other in over five years--they'd been together less than three hours and were already off... copulating.
His good-humoured expression contorted to one of distaste momentarily, before softening again as he returned to regard Draco and the two young women with him. At least his Slytherins were behaving with something like decorum.
If a bit of his distaste was jealousy... that somehow he had gotten to this phase of his life without ever... indulging, and that it just seemed far too late and far too unlikely now... well, Severus would never admit such a thing.
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"Hem, I'll have the grilled tuna," she said into her menu, composing herself again. "With the salad, and for the love of god, no tomatoes. Dressing on the side. And send me a glass of the white wine." She put down her menu and shifted in her seat, waiting for the last order to be placed.
"He'll have to make up for it later," she suggested. A trip to that wine cellar he'd mentioned wouldn't be amiss. He and Draco could flirt to their heart's content -- oh, make no mistake, Pansy had noticed a bit of that going on between them and it amused her quite a bit -- and she could ignore them both and get blissfully drunk, gratis.
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"You forget to whom you are speaking, Professor Parkinson," he said dryly. "I do not forgive such negligence easily. I believe Theo washed his hands of his Slytherin ties years ago. I will not be anticipating his groveling apology any time soon."
As he spoke he dripped tiny drops of clear liquid over the various articles of food on his plate. Nothing happened. This seemed to be what he was expecting, because his attention left his plate and he raised an inquiring brow at the others, clearly offering to 'test' their meals as well.
"I have nothing against the behaviour, specifically. Not everyone can be expected to maintain control over their baser urges."
His tone clearly suggested that he thought they ought to manage such, and that inability to do so was clearly a severe character defect, but one that he was willing to deign to overlook.
"However, there is such a thing as decorum and caution, and Theodore displays neither."
Of course, neither did Draco, and the blond young man could hardly miss the accusation in the glance turned in his direction. However, there were some things one could 'get away with' when one's name was 'Malfoy' that simply wouldn't 'fly' for anyone else.
Outrageous promiscuity was one of those things.
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"I'm not as much of a whore as you like to think," he said. "I haven't even fucked a decent English speaking bloke in . . ."
Draco thought back, trying to remember one. The only English speaking male he'd ever had sex with was probably the one who took his virginity (and Merlin, that sounded so gay) and that had happened, well, quite a long time ago.
"In far too long," Draco finally finished.
He turned his attention to his dinner, something decandently Italian and probably very fattening. Definitely Severus' work.
"Are you trying to tell me something?" Draco asked the other man with a pointed look at his plate. "Because you know as well as I that I have an inordinately high metabolic rate that made mum cry and had dad inquiring about thyroid diseases, long-lasting curses, and possible poisons by the time I was five."
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Severus smirked and graced the young man with one of his few and exceedingly rare 'almost fond' expressions at the reminder of Draco's childhood.
"As well I know, since I was both asked to test you for such poisonings and accused of possibly being responsible for them," he said dryly, taking Draco's plate and carefully testing it before passing it back to him.
"You are too thin. Do not feed me that rubbish about metabolism, or I will feed you Veritaserum and force you to tell me every morsel you have eaten in the past month. I'm sure we would all find it enlightening, but I doubt the nutritional content of the recitation would pass scrutiny, high metabolism notwithstanding.
"Eat."
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"I always eat like a pig in France," he muttered, picking up his fork. "But then, Melisande and Amie never stop feeding me either. You should meet each other," he added. "I'm sure you'd get along. And never stop nagging at me, either."
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He smirked and savoured a bite of his steak, the pink, bloody juices making macabre patterns on his plate.
"Have I met Melisande and Amie? I do not recall the names, and I generally have excellent memory for such details. I admit they sound tolerable to hear you whinge about them. Anyone who can annoy you and bully you into eating sufficiently cannot be wholly repugnant."
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He took a bite of his dinner (it tasted wonderful, but he wasn't going tell Severus that) and thought fondly of Melisande and Amie. They were barely older than Draco himself, but were much more grounded. They had three children and a fourth on the way, owned their own business, and loved Draco like he was a part of their family as well. He tended to run to them when things in Britain got to be too much and he hated the shame he felt whenever he showed up on their doorstep sick and thin and too tired to go on by himself.
Amie always fixed him something to eat, something heavy and warm, and Melisande would pet his hair like Pansy used to do while he whined about it in broken French and English. The next morning they were pushing their brats onto him while they worked in their tiny restaurant and there was no more whining to be done. Draco would simply bite his tongue and force himself to forget, eventually, why he'd made his way to France in the first place.
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She decided it probably wasn't a good time to bring up anything about her own sex life - somehow, Snape seemed less forgiving of Slytherins who weren't so close to him as Draco was.
"French lesbians?" she asked, waiting idly for her food to return to her. "With children? Dear god, half the charm of sleeping with women is that you don't have to worry about children."
Although Pansy was a bit curious about anyone who held such a place in Draco's heart as these two seemed to; anyone who could get Draco to eat, for that matter. She decided that maybe she'd tag along and meet them someday. Or invite them here for the weekend; travel didn't agree with Pansy.
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He snorted at her comment.
"Having no children of my own, I can give no solid evidence either way, but I have been assured, repeatedly, by those who have, that they are not so odious when they are 'your own'. I prefer to take that bit of knowledge at face value rather than pursue any actual research into the subject. As Head of Slytherin, I came as close as I ever wish to 'parenthood'. You were, each of you, a sore trial in your own way."
Glittering dark eyes regarded them each in turn with that hidden depth of dry humour that few beyond 'his' Slytherins ever saw.
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If, he decided, taking another bite when Severus turned to glare at him, she didn't nod or something in the next few minutes, though, he was going to go off by himself and probably get into loads of trouble.
Merlin only knew that Draco did tend to get into plenty of shit when Pansy and Severus weren't around to keep him out of it.
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She looked back at Draco in time to catch his look; the plain Let's get out of here look that Pansy knew in a second. She grinned back and after a few moments more of eating, pushed back her chair and sighed. Well, her meal wasn't more than half done, but it had been free. And she was confident she could get her hands on another one before the evening was over, somehow. Besides, she'd all but finished her wine - she tended to go through those things rather quickly.
She glanced back over at Draco and waited for a cue of some sort. He'd started this, and he'd always been better at dealing with Snape than she had.
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"I'll finish this, I promise," he told Severus. "But us ladies have to piss, and you know how we like to travel in packs," he finished flamboyantly.
He pushed his chair away from the table before Severus could say anything more and waited for Pansy to do the same.
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She leaned in to Draco and muttered, "I don't know whether this makes you more of a crafty bitch, or just more of a girl." She grinned and decided that bathroom and bar were synonymous. At least they started with the same letter. So, it was time to head for the 'bathroom'.
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Only his Slytherins ever attained that level of indulgence for their behaviour. He was satisfied to finish his meal with Daphene in relative peace. His glittering dark eyes watched the comings and goings in the room intently.
Just as he was finishing pudding and deciding that it was plenty long enough to leave Draco unattended at a party like this, the Weasley twins returned to the hall. He expected them to go straight to Potter's table where he sat with Lupin, or perhaps to try and find their sister to ensure she had recovered from whatever poisoning they had done. When they did neither, his patience once again expired completely. However, even he did not feel it was wise to create another public scene. Best to simply get away from the temptation of knocking their two thick-skulls together.
He would go and find Ms Weasley himself. At least then, he would be able to rub their collective noses into their woeful irresponsibility, later.
He stood gracefully, nodded his head to Daphene, who at least seemed unlikely to get into any trouble at the moment, quiet as she was, and left the table and the hall to begin his search.
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