*a piece of paper folds itself before his eyes, concentrates on clamping down on the creases to make them sharp* *bend, crease, flatten, crease*

*it was getting stronger, though not sure if it's because he's around more people now so he's recognizing it more or if it's genuinely something new* *Blaise and Zach are easily identifiable, their presence suddenly humming on the edge of his mind, two different frequencies* *doesn't make a move, however, continues to make the crane*

*it's always night here, it seems* *even during the day, traces of the quiet and the darkness seems to stick to the headstones like molasses, unwilling to let even the sun burn off the last of it's presence*

Rather poetic thought, don't you think?

*stands in front of his mother's tomb, mentally generated gladiolas in his hand* *sets them down on top of the marble before descending down to the dirt, legs crossed before him*

So much has happened, I hardly know where to begin. I have to begin somewhere though... I must admit, the downside of actually being in contact with people again is that I can't talk as freely as I'm used to. *looks down, snickering a little* It's not as if I'd hear anything valuable in return.

*head turns then draws back to the name inscribed in the marble* I'm to see Remus Lupin of all people. The Order. *leaves it there- knows he's talking to himself so he hardly needs to explain what they are* *muses* The enemy.

*sucks in a deep breath* And I thought the last few years were a trial in patience. *rubs a hand over his face, covering his mouth* Which means I'm going to basically have to convince a load of people I can't stand that I'm not actually demonic spawn. Or terrified of my own shadow. Or whatever insane notion they've had boiling in their heads for the last ten years. *sighs* Bloody Gryffindors.

*draws his knees up and folds his arms over them, giving his head a pillow to rest upon* *realises that this is entirely his own fault- he could have been a little less acidic, a little less self-important, a little less...*

That's the problem, isn't it? Sure, if I hadn't been me things might have been easier. But who else am I supposed to be? *points at the gravestone* Don't answer that. *dryly, sarcastically* I don't think I can bear the answer.

*a little more seriously, considers the grave* I can't believe it's come to this. It just seems... *struggles with the explanation* ...I'm trading one bad decision for another. There going to be expecting me to scheme to my own ends and will plan accordingly. What real protection is afforded then? Sure, I will be scheming to my own ends... *sighs, always does that entirely too much here, like it belongs with the night* but that's not the point, is it? The point is, I've got to change their expectations. Show them something new but not forsaking what they've seen in the past.

*eyes roll up to the moonlit sky* *stares up at the moon for some time. the wind whistling by, strangely warm* *can almost hear something in it* *strains his ears, eyes narrowing as if that would help* *quietly, after a moment* Yes, yes. I know. *doesn't complete the statement, just nods to himself, eyes falling back down* Doesn't make it any easier.

*rubs the back of his neck and stands up* *exhales* *stares down quietly before venturing tentatively* I missed this. So much as I know you're gone... I missed this. *after another moment, sticks his hands in his pockets*

Wish me luck.

Who: Draco and Blaise
When: June 5th
Where: The Bolthole, Andorra
What: Alcohol-induced melancholy is infectious even on birthdays

Fine. Sure. Yes. Cake? Are we out of cake?

*knows things are getting bad when even his specs aren't helping him see any better* *world is wavy from too much alcohol* *is beginning to think that perhaps he's always run parallel to the ground and all thet upright perpendicular nonsense was just that-- nonsense*

*lies on the couch* *pulls off his tie- stupid thing really- and shoots it across the room at Blaise*

*knowledgeably* The rum was a bad idea.

Who: Draco and Ron
Where: Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch
When: Monday evening
What: Draco goes to set plans in motion and ends up setting up Ron

This is bad. This is really fucking bad, Malfoy. What'd the fuck you do to me?

*has been looking for that idiot for some time; The Shrieking Shack's empty space produced nothing after about ten minutes of yelling; no sign of him at the Weasley compound* *Hogwarts is the last place he can think of, mildly worried that he's gone into a hiding place he doesn't know about*

*steps out onto the pitch, breathes a mild sigh of relief* *steps out onto the grass, feet going right through it, and looks up, watching Ron fly in sweeping curves*

*a pang of yearning, misses Quidditch more than most things*

*sucks it down and calls out loudly* OI!

Who: Draco and Blaise
When: Tuesday night
Where: The New Pad in Andorra
What: Draco is floored

Yes, it does have a certain air about it. Some place we could have been.

*dresses himself up quite fine and slips his reading glasses into his pocket just in case* *dashes out to the cabinet in the kitchen and starts pulling out a few of the most recently brewed bottles- not his usual batch of medical potions but some rather offensive ones, ones with thin, easily breakable vials that would do very nasty things to a person*

*doesn't hurt to be prepared*

*pulls out his wand, spinning it neatly between his fingers as he puts water in his porridge pot and leaves it to soak while he's gone* *after a moment of debate, scribbles out a quick note should Snape stop by so he didn't panic*

*finally apparates directly into the Feld Townhouse and is immediately assaulted by Plimpy* *gives the house elf a sharp look*

Stop bouncing, you idiotic creature and go get Blaise!

To: Tracey Davis, wherever she may be, alive or deceased just as she is

( An unsigned letter )

*been at her grave the majority of the night* *the sun rises over the earth, spilling in the gaps of the trees, the gaps of the gravemarkers* *sits against the grave, legs stretched out, head resting against the marble*

*muses bleakly* Ah, the sun. Crawling at the edges, sneaking in through every space. I can sympathise. *the image of a cigarette comes to his fingers, takes a long drag on the piece of memory-- not actually having smoked since he was 16*

( Additionally )

Who: Draco and Severus
When: Saturday, 3 March
Where: Gosforth, Newcastle-Upon-Tyne
What: Draco feels guilty. A bit.

I would have expected you to have better taste than that.



Who: Draco and Pansy
When: Sunday, 4 March
Where: An inn, Inverness
What: They aren't exactly Romeo and Juliet.

Then I've got not only more self-control, but more intelligence than he does.

Who: Draco and Blaise
When: Thursday Evening
Where: London, in various locations
What: Lucky Blaise

Perhaps it's not the wine we should be drinking.

*triple checks the wards and his cockiness, making sure not to leave anything to chance* *tempted to have another draught of Felix Felitis and let the whole thing unfold without so much thought, but knows the dangers of getting addicted to that stuff*

*murmurs to himself as he adjusts a ward* If there is anything you shouldn't be, Draco, it's reckless. *squints as he notices there is writing on the beam of the lavish room of a different inn, one in Inverness* *snickers* *spells the words carved in so they read something different and jumps down from the chair, sending it back over to it's spot*

*makes a motion to check his pocketwatch* *unnecessary when suddenly there is the sound of a key in a door*

*he didn't think it would work, couldn't imagine that if Blaise hadn't already reset the wards to keep him out, that he'd have done it in the last couple of months since Simon's death and his reappearance* *holds out a small glimmer of hope that the spells laid down when Adam was alive still hold true* *knows that Blaise is being a complete loser and doing paperwork on his birthday because he'd checked, two hours before to make sure that he wasn't having a dinner party*

*still, it makes him a bit wary* *imagines there isn't anything for it, grabs the small, neatly wrapped box and gives Apparition a whirl*

*and he's standing in the foyer with not so much as a crack* *looks about, allowing a small smile at his triumph* *only there a moment before he apparates straight into the study, punctuating his sudden appearance by spelling the study door shut and warding it extremely heavily* *whips back to look at Blaise*

*blasphemes with a smirk* Jesus Christ you're pathetic.

To: Pansy Parkinson

( Cue the ubiquitous paper crane, quite a bit larger than usual )

*twenty or so workbooks lie scattered on the floor, each with pages flipping* *picks up a book that's stopped and reads the paragraph with the highlighted word* *presses the tip of his wand to the book and then drags it, a small thread of green coloured magic trailing from the book, to another workbook* *both workbooks glow and the thread vanishes into the ether*

*sighs at his glorified librarian skills* *looks up at the knock on the door and sighs again- showtime*

*he couldn't not tell Severus- even if the tracking spells on his doors were a hoax, this was something that had future implications, this was a discussion a long time coming*

Come in.

Who: Draco and Daphne
When: This morning
Where: Narcissa's grave
What: An accord is made

Christ. You didn't used to be so goddamned touchy.

*sits on a headstone-- no one that he knows, but even if he did, figures they'd hardly care-- legs kicking, swinging a little through the granite* *looks up to the skies with a soft sort of look, relaxed but stoic*

I've thought about how we parted at our last meeting, Greengrass.

Who: Draco and Blaise
When: This evening
Where: Blaise's London Townhouse
What: Friendship is a tough thing

What happened to your ambition? You're pissing it away in real estate? Really? That's what keeps you going?

*not sure what it was about his last meeting with Snape that's made him feel so edgy, but it's made his flat seem almost... unbearable: not as bad as the first couple of month's he'd been there, but still surprisingly disturbing*

*has no idea if Blaise is at the London townhouse, but it's the first place he thinks of to go* *snickers a little bit when he appears, sliding effortlessly into Blaise's wavelength, a snicker on is lips*

Wine again?