DISCLAIMER-I don't own any of these characters or other property from the original Harry Potter story. New to you? Mine. Seen it before? Not mine.
A/N: This is written for NickiForDraco's challenge, "Character, Object, and Emotion." I was given Draco Malfoy (#2), Firewhiskey (#21), flashing lights (#44), and anxiety (#33).
Framed out in the washroom mirror, Draco straightened the collar of his dress robes and smoothed his hair back. The dancing had been tame so far and his little Beauxbaton minx had kept his hands high on her back for too long. He was anticipating enjoying her more as the night moved forward and a live band replaced the orchestra. Sure enough, he was soon able to hear deep bass pumping through the castle walls. Blaise joined him by the sinks and elbowed the boy in his ribs. Draco shot him a sidelong glare.
"Oh, cool off Malfoy." Blaise pulled a flask from his hip pocket and passed it. Draco uncorked it and took a swig. Firewhiskey. The burn was a familiar and brilliant feeling as it seared down his throat and up into his nasal cavity. He took a second for good measure then handed it back to Blaise, who swallowed a mouthful and coughed.
"I'm thinking a few shots of this into the Weasel girl's cup, I'll get to see if she's a natural redhead, eh?" Blaise snickered and stowed the drink. He strode out of the bathroom and Draco smirked at himself in the mirror and thought of the girl he'd left waiting by the punch bowl. He wouldn't be in need of aiding substances with this one, he thought, she was practically begging. A soothing lightness engulfed his head as the drink soaked into his bloodstream. Warm. Feeling like he'd left her waiting long enough, Draco turned and exited the lavatory. The combination of the bass vibrations in the floor and the Firewhiskey made for a pleasant buzz that he settled into easily. Pulling open the doors of the Great Hall, he was greeted with a scene straight from a muggle movie. The dance floor, having once held a very particular form of ballroom styling, was now being pounded out and ground down by the feet of the students as they jumped to the swelling guitar solo. The stage lighting flashed in a strobe pattern-brilliant white, then black. Again, and again, and again.
The taste of bile was creeping up the back of Draco's throat and his eyes fixed on the flashing lights. Under their effect the movements of the band and crowd were eerily stilted: unnatural. He closed his eyes tightly. Opened them. Repeated. He could feel his legs growing weaker so he stumbled to the wall. It was hot-too hot. The wall was damp with everyone else's perspiration and the flashes seemed to bounce around the room in a disjointed fashion. Draco's stomach clenched, hands curling around the edge of a table, eyes blinking rapidly and-
-He was a little boy again, seven-year-old heart pumping wildly and out-of-sync with the flashbulbs. He could hear his own voice in his head calling desperately: Mother! Mum, please... He couldn't find her; he'd turned around and she'd been gone and God, where was she? He was alone with hundreds of reflected Draco's in fragmented pieces and the lights singeing his retinas made his pupils dilate and contract far too fast and his legs shook as he pounded the mirrors with tiny fists-how do I get out of here? Lost. Alone. Mum, help! His reflections stretched and grew to grotesque imitations in the funhouse mirrors while the cheery music became overwhelmingly loud and took on a much more sinister tone.-
Draco pulled at his tie in a futile effort to find some way for more air to reach his lungs. Releasing his grip on the table sent him reeling backward into the corner. A cold sweat covered his body and the screams of the students melted into a grating, metallic-
--Metallic grating sounds emanated from the gears turning the floor and he couldn't see straight for all of the spinning. His running was sporadic and confused, trying to get off of the moving, hypnotic spiral. Red and yellow-FLASH-mirror-FLASH-hallway?-FLASH-dead end-Draco's chest was tight with the anxiety-
-Anxiety attack, that's all, Draco thought to himself, calm down. Calm was an oasis; it would be a cool and refreshing breeze with a nap in the backyard grass. A roaring fire, rain on a window to lull him to sleep. The strobe lights were holding him in this state and he had to get away. Every part of his body was tense. His date was moving towards him with a frustrated look on her face.
"Draco," she slurred, French accent marred by alcohol she must have gotten from Blaise, "where 'ave you been?" She latched onto his arm which made his stomach lurch. Draco jerked his arm from her grasp and made for the doors. He pushed through a conversing couple and managed to knock the girl's punch down the front of her dress. Her shriek sounded far-off to his ears, as did his mumbled apology.
Draco's tunnel vision was centered around the open doors. He fell through them and continued through the reception hall until he was outside. Already he was calming down, now that he was away from the flashbulbs. He ran on shaking legs until he'd passed through the front gates and left school grounds. Shutting his eyes, Draco disapparated. The effort and gut-wrenching magic forced him to his knees on arrival. He was home, looking-
-looking for his mother who must have disappeared into one of the mirrors. Draco's heart and body shuddered at that thought, and the next: "they'll get me, too." Hot tears streamed down over his cheeks and he choked out strangled sobs-
-"Mother!" His voice broke as he ran frantically through the manor. A light was coming from the kitchen so he moved towards it. She was there, reading and sipping from a teacup at the table.
"Draco?" She was surprised. "What are you doing home at this hour?" She rose from her chair. Her voice sent a wave of relief washing over his body. Draco fell forward into her familiar arms.
"I...I didn't know where you were." She laughed, confused by her son's behavior.
"Draco," she said soothingly, "I'm-
-right here."
