An Interference of Portraits

A Disruption During Civilised Pregaming

'Sorry,' he said with a small grimace, 'I kind of threw my toys out of the pram and then sulked about it. With myself really, not you. Then I was embarrassed.'

'You don't need to be embarrassed... And I'm sorry too... For being dense... for still being dense...'

He grimaced. 'It's not your fault, Harry. Bad timing on my part.'

'Will you explain?'

He smiled sadly, 'maybe...'

'Let's forget it,' I said, keen to not let things slip between us. 'Thanks for the flowers.'

'Not too girly?'

I grinned. 'No. I liked it. No one's ever sent me flowers before.'

'I wanted to apologise for my behaviour.'

'Like I said, forget it.'

'You shouldn't be so magnanimous.'

'Even if I want to be?' I said, stepping a bit closer and unable to help reaching out and straightening the satin lapel of his coat. 'Nice dress robes,' I said. 'You look very dashing. Lavender's very lucky to be on your arm tonight.' He wore similar dress robes to me, only his waist coat was white and he wore a continental tie, pinned at the throat of his white shirt. The white waistcoat reminded me of the Yule Ball.

'Says he who looks like bloody Prince Charming, ready to sweep every person in attendance off their feet,' he muttered. 'I like the cufflinks...' he carefully tweaked one of the silver dragon claws that was peeking out from my sleeve.

'It's not my intention to sweep every one of their feet,' I said, wondering how far to push it. That is, until I realised his continental tie was pinned by a tiny and delicate green-enamelled carnation flower. It was smaller than a drawing pin head but quite clear, up close, in what it was. 'Draco?' I whispered, staring at his throat. I almost unconsciously touched the tantalising flower lightly.

'Do you see now, Harry?'

'Yes,' I breathed out as I dropped my hand away, my throat suddenly tight. I looked back into his face, into his beautiful grey eyes.

'That's what I was trying to explain in Dublin; I was trying to show you that some of us have to live a double life, like Oscar Wilde. I'm sorry I got frustrated and lost my temper. I know it wasn't the right time. It's just there are expectations and I don't know what to do about them because...' he paused. '...because I wasn't supposed to fall in love with you...' he looked at the floor, worrying his bottom lip. 'I told you, I've always settled for an unhealthy alternative to what I actually want. I've always had to.'

'Fuck,' I whispered, overwhelmed. Then I softly exclaimed, 'sod it...' in frustration.

I grabbed his wrist and led him out of the Drawing Room and into the Snug, closing the door behind us with my foot. I lifted his glass from his hand and put it down next to mine on the side table and turned so we faced each other in the low lamp light. We were standing close enough for me to be nervously playing with the single button on his dress coat.

'Can't you get out of it? The engagement...'

'Not without father retracting on the agreement. And that means telling father that his only son and heir is gay. He won't be very impressed.' He reached up, his fingers meeting mine and we cautiously interlinked them.

'But it does happen? The engagements get broken?' I asked.

'Yes. Allegiances change all the time.'

'And preferences?' I asked.

He shrugged. 'I don't know. It's not very common but at least homosexuality is accepted. Thank Merlin we're way ahead of Muggles with their hateful Section 28 Act.'