The World and Her Stars: One Shots

Kiss and Make up

(Post-war; Rose and Draco have an argument; Leo is 3 here)

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ROSE POV

"You need to calm down," I whisper-yelled as I pulled Draco into the darkened hall that lead to the bathrooms, "You can't be doing stuff like that, Draco. We are adults. Prominent adults in the community that need to handle ourselves in a way that is the complete opposite of that way you handled yourself in there." 

"That pathetic excuse for a man out there was making eye contact with your tits during your whole interaction. Pardon me for stepping in." Draco threw one arm up in the arm before letting it fall to his side, "Was I supposed to just stand there and let him ogle my wife, or what? Am I not entitled to say something? He was nearly to the point of drooling, Rose." 

I pinched the bridge of my nose, calming myself down now so that I didn't get even more frustrated than I already was. 

Deep breaths, Rose. In through the nose. Hold. Out through your mouth. 

"This is an important event, Draco. For networking. There are a lot of important people here--" I expelled all in one breath. 

"Please," Draco scoffed, "The most important people here are us. And you know it." he took another sip of the whiskey from his glass that he hadn't managed to spill a drop of during all that had just transpired, "That prat with the wandering eyes isn't anybody that I want you working with either. He clearly doesn't respect boundaries...or what's mine--" 

"That prat you speak of was an American diplomat, who is very close friends with Walter Winters, the member of the Wizengamot that Hermione and I have been trying to persuade to vote in favor of this bill for months." I informed Draco, my gaze as stern as my voice, "And I can handle myself. You know I can. I didn't need you stepping in--" 

"I don't give a shit if he's the King of England, Rose. His eyes were about to pop out of his head--" Draco fired back, the alcohol in his system clearly making his stubborn side show tonight.

It almost felt as if we were back at Hogwarts again. Just like old times. Just as asininely gorgeous and arrogant as he was back then, too. 

"I am well aware--" I started. 

"Then you should understand why I stepped in." Draco cut me off, taking a step towards me, "I should have done more to that fucking piece of--" 

"Draco," I cut him off now, "You need to go home if you're going to be hostile the rest of the night. There are people here that I need to form contact with, and I can't do that if everyone I talk to is afraid that my husband is going to shove them into a tower of champagne glasses." I narrowed my eyes, and then immediately rolled them as I saw a proud smirk curl at the corner of Draco's lips. 

He snapped out of it quickly, though. 

"No one saw me shove him." Draco widened his eyes a bit, drawing out his words, "To anyone else, the bloke just tripped and fell. Typical with someone as old as he is--" 

"Do you call everyone that trips a 'disrespectful prick'?" I put my hands on my hips, pursing my lips with a small huff of frustration, "Because I'm pretty sure a quarter of the ballroom heard that." 

Draco rolled his eyes, and my god, I was getting deja vu. This was so Hogwarts Draco of him. 

"I'm serious, Draco." I met his eyes, a mixture of frustration and adoration blooming in my chest, "Blaise or Harry can take you home. I'll find them--" I turned away to head back down the small hallway to find one of the more sober men to take my jealousy-driven husband back home so he could sleep off his whiskey, but Draco grabbed my wrist, pulling me back and pinning me between his arms against the wall.