Draco and Stephen
Well, it was possibly not the most awkward thing Draco had ever been involved in, but it was going way up there on the list. He had no doubt in his mind that the owl he had received earlier was not from Stephen. The two of them had, via the purity of their blood, known each other their whole lives, and although they hadn't spoken in- ever, Draco knew he was being somewhat coerced into something no one else had agreed with. And he was standing in place of four other men who would have done a much better job. But no pressure.
He hadn't actually spoken to Stephen since he'd arrived at the venue. He'd had his dress code owled to him and had obediently turned up in his black dress robes with a soft pink bow tie to match those of the bridesmaids.
"Stephen's room is upstairs, you should go and check on him," Wilfred said, speaking loudly to distract Draco's attention from the bush of fairies he was about to investigate. "Do your duties."
Draco thought it a bit cheap to be asked to perform a duty to someone he barely knew, and to even call it a duty? As far as he was concerned it was a favour. Not really a big favour, but you know, it was a slight inconvenience.
Still, Draco wasn't a guy to do things by half, and if he was going to be Stephen's best man he'd do a reasonably good job of it. He made his way up the stairs, finding the halls and corridors oddly familiar from a place far, far back in his memory.
He knocked on the door, touching his fingers to his hair and then his bow tie (stupid pink bow tie), before trying the handle.
"Stephen?" he asked as the door opened, poking his head around the corner. "Hi. Hey. I-" Draco slipped into the room, closing them both off from the rest of the house. He felt sorry for Stephen, but he could have been him. There was a chance he could have been in this same position. "I've been assigned as your best man." Way to make it sound even more businesslike than it was