You'll be the Death of Me

Chapter 85

"Mr. Montague, I would like a word with you."

Graham paused in his stride to the breakfast table and looked back to see an Auror approaching him. Not just any Auror, he noted, Draco's cousin. He elegantly raised his eyebrow, curious as to how his morning had become so interesting.

"Regarding?"

"I have some questions."

"Regarding?" Graham emphasized, annoyed.

"Your whereabouts last night," the Auror replied coolly, her eyes seeming to darken a considerable amount of shades.

Graham paused. "Am I under suspicion of a crime?"

"Just come with me," Tonks—he believed her last name was Tonks—demanded. Graham made a mental note to brush up on his pureblood gossip. He knew the general story of how this woman came to be, but he never paid attention to the names.

Graham's eyes lazily appraised the woman in front of him. "No, I don't think I will. Not unless you are charging me with a crime."

The lines around the woman's eyes tightened. Graham noted that they tightened very similarly to how Draco's did when he was getting annoyed with him. "You're refusing to be questioned?" she challenged.

"Obviously," Graham drawled lazily.

"Why?"

Graham purposely allowed his mask to slip. In a feign of surprise and indignation. "Because you're not charging me with anything and seem reluctant to explain what you want to question me about. It appears to me that the only reason for such a course of action is to hope I will incriminate myself."

"You seem awfully paranoid for an innocent man."

Graham narrowed his eyes, but refused the bait. He wondered how it was that someone related to Draco so closely could not know how to control their emotions. Granted, Draco and Graces weren't always that good at maintaining their appearances, but they had never been this bad in such a public setting. With a stranger. Looking at this Auror was like reading a book. He could read her far too easily. And from what he was reading he could tell she didn't like him and was already far too irritated with him. He idly wondered if this was a Black trait and then quickly pushed that thought from his head. He regarded Narcissa too highly.

"Where were you last night, Mr. Montague?" the woman before him asked suspiciously.

"Again—" Graham began, his words cold and hard in challenge and contempt "—what does that matter to you?"

"He was with us." Graham turned at Draco's voice. The blond met his eyes briefly, before they turned back to Auror Tonks. Graham smirked, trying to goad the Auror with his smile, when he caught a glimpse of Graces standing a few steps back from Draco.

"You cut your hair," Graham frowned, his eyes not straying from Graces despite how she obviously seemed to wish they would. She gave a small nod and moved closer to her brother. "Why on earth did you do that? You look like Draco."

"It's not that short." Graces flushed, her hands moving to touch the ends of her hair as though she needed reassurance that it truly wasn't that short.

"What? You don't find me handsome, Montague?" Draco challenged, his silver eyes giving him a warning.

Graham gave Draco an assessing look and grinned. "I'd find you more handsome if you had longer hair."

Draco's eyes narrowed and Graham had to turn away so that he wouldn't laugh, or point out that his cousin and him shared the same expression.

"He was with both of you? All night?" Tonks asked slowly, breaking Graham's attention from Draco.