#( drastoria: we move lightly. )

[soundsofwinter]

we move lightly

@giveyourghosts

The room buzzed with excited chatter and children ran between the tables in a good natured game of tag before their parents halted their fun fullstop. It was not proper, after all, for pureblood children to create such a commotion at an elegant affair. Chandeliers sparkled overhead, bejewelled and gleaming. The grandiose hall was decorated down to rails, bouquets wrapped about poles and even the back of the chairs adorning ribbons. It was all too much in a way that Draco had previously never noted. Every pureblood event was similar in style, but now it all seemed so trite to him, over the top in a way that grated his already lit up nerves. 

Then the bride and groom entered, applause spreading across the room. There was the scraping of chairs as folks got up for a standing ovation and the newly wedded couple made their way to the head table, smiling and holding hands. They sat in front of a bouquet of baby pink roses and the groom leaned in for a kiss. There were cheers and someone whooped, an act unbecoming of the ambiance. Draco curiously looked for the perpetrator, unsurprised when it turned out to be Goyle. The man had never known how to act unless he was given direction, someone or something to follow. Draco hadn’t spoken to him since Crabbe had been engulfed in flames. 

After a few moments the toastmaster rose from his chair and everyone else sat down. Draco drowned out the speech, twirling his glass of champagne absentmindedly. He did not wish to be there, attending only out of a courtesy for the bride’s son, Blaise, a loyal friend and one of the few that Draco remained somewhat in contact with. The correspondence was still sparse and brief, but enough that Draco felt obligated to make an appearance. No one turned down an invitation to one of the notorious Zabini weddings. How many was she on now, nine? He’d lost count. 

The woman clearly possessed an intense charm. Along with a room stacked with gold at Gringotts, inherited from all of her past, deceased husbands. 

The ways of their society were as transparent as they’d always been, but these days, Draco was no longer beguiled by the allure of wealth and power. He did not fancy the spotlight any longer, the attention unwanted. HIs appearance at the wedding was met with a fair share of fanfare, but Draco didn’t revel in the shower of compliments. Instead, he was all the more irritated. Attempts at flattery fell on deaf ears and, eventually, he was finally left on his own for a moment while the rest of the guests engaged in chatter, ate extravagant food or danced in the middle of room. 

A much needed moment of peace, tucked away from the scrutiny of everyone, including his own parents who upturned their nose at his behavior but were still ultimately indulgent of their son’s desire to be left alone.