Theo/Draco
Theo had switched to sparkling water after his one glass of Champagne, and done his best to play his part. He'd talked to people he hadn't seen in years, distant relations who were filled the sympathy for his dead father. Theo played his role well, he always had, but eventually he needed a break from the smiles and thank-yous, and even from the bitchy little comments about the so-called lower class that was expected of him from certain people. Not that he didn't whole-heartedly believe in his bitchy little comments, but one needed a break every so often.
He circled the room, and found Draco tucked in a corner and glowering at the world. He didn't blame his friend for avoiding people; talk of Draco's mother had been one of the most popular conversation topics. Out of loyalty to his friend, Theo had only made non-committal responses when asked, and had seemed so bored with the whole ordeal that people had changed the subject on their own. People, Theo knew, were by and large sheep.
"Not going to get drunk and make a spectacle of yourself, are you Draco?" Theo asked, leaning against the wall next to the man. He cast a privacy charm so whatever they said would be muffled to anyone's ears not their own.