It was a preparation of an invasion. That was the only way that Draco could view the party currently ongoing in his parents’ manor. His father had, of course, practically personally ordered the invasion, sponsored and all, but that was only because he felt those students deserved the same chance that his own children got after their (public) school collapsed, clearly not funded well enough. That part Draco would have been fine with. The part that he wasn’t fine with was that the selection of students was random, which almost guaranteed there was at least one rotten apple from the wrong side of town joining them in their classroom tomorrow and for the rest of their secondary education. It was the same kind of rotten apple that made the town unsafe. The same kind of rotten apple that spiked his sister’s drink and had her end up in the hospital, something they called the ‘best outcome in a bad situation.’ Draco was uncomfortable about the situation and extremely tense, which had let his girlfriend Pansy to suggest some exercise to make him relax. She hadn’t been wrong. He’d been relaxed briefly. As he exited his bed, however, ignoring her pleas for him to come back, he more than ever knew what he was so uncomfortable about. The high of it all. He understood that Daphne wanted it, too.
It meant he looked over at Pansy, still in his bed, as he pulled on his shirt and did an attempt to do his hair. “We can’t stay there all evening, there’s a party downstairs,” he pointed out, the words matter-of-fact. “People will be looking for us, Pans.” She pouted, so Draco leaned in to kiss her and chuckled a little. “C’mon. You go find Ginny. I have to talk to my sister.”
He didn’t look if she got up as well, because frankly he wasn’t going to complain either in case he returned and still found her in there. He had another thing that was more important and he really needed to show his face at the party again, but afterwards he could go back to his indulgence if he wanted. For now, he had more important matters at hand. He found those in the kitchen, not completely surprisingly away from the others at the party. Daphne was standing around in the kitchen, drink in hand, eyes glued to her phone. Draco watched her for a couple of seconds as he stood in the doorway, eyebrows frowned, before he moved inside. “Hey,” he greeted her once she looked up. He made his way to the sink, where he filled a glass of water he got from the cupboard, and took a long sip before he spoke again. “Not in the mood for the party? Me neither.” He shrugged. “How are you feeling about tomorrow, Daph?”
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