Who: Draco Malfoy & Astoria Greengrass What: What are the holidays for, if not overindulging? Where: Guildhall, London When: The Malfoys' holiday party, Dec. 18th (Backdated) Warnings/Rating: TBA
It had only been a couple of years since Draco had been old enough to stay up for the duration of his parents' parties. Not so long ago, he'd been sent upstairs to his rooms (had wanted to go upstairs to his rooms rather than sit around listening to a bunch of hideously boring adults) as soon as dinner was close to being served, and had spent the remainder of those festive evenings on his own. Now that he was more frequently invited to stay up and be an actual adult, he found that on the whole not much had changed - the adults were still boring, he would still rather be up in his room, master of his own time.
Tonight was different, though. There were enough of his fellow students here that he always had someone he could talk to about something, and enough of the adult guests were known to him that he could observe them with a critical eye. It was probably the first time he'd felt like a guest (if not quite a host) rather than a prop. And he liked it. He liked it enough that he was inclined to drink a little too much, to be a little more gregarious than usual, to let his loud, cruel laugh echo out a little too often. By the time he'd had three or four glasses of wine he'd just taken to leaning against the refreshment table and waiting for someone to come along whom he could engage in conversation - or just snicker at. Whichever.