Fletcher Drubbins had served as head of the Office of International Relations & Exchange for the past 30 years. Unfortunately, he had only been lucid for about 20 of those years. Much like Professors Binns—though thankfully Drubbins had come to his senses before he had died—the office head had been merely filling a chair the last 10 years, as no one quite had the heart to throw out a fixture in the Ministry of so long.

Neville fidgeted behind Hannah in the receiving line that wound past Drubbins' family as scores of Ministry employees and affiliates congratulated the man for his many years of service. He rather thought that Professor Binns looked more alive and aware than the slowly blinking man bedecked in archaic and musty mustard yellow robes.

He breathed a sigh of relief as they passed said man and eyesore, helping himself to a glass of port on a nearby waiter's tray. Knowing that his wife would be cross with him if he didn't at least offer one to her (despite her finding it horribly distasteful), Neville picked up a spare and consoled himself with the knowledge that the glass would in fact be his to enjoy.

He thought better when he approached Hannah and found her talking with Draco Malfoy. He mourned his second glass of port when Hannah ripped it from his hands and downed it in one violent motion.

Draco eyed her with amusement. "Always knew you were a lush, Abbot—you certainly dress yourself like you are perpetually intoxicated."

Hannah seethed. "I do not. And it's Longbottom, not Abbot."

"Ah yes! And here is the doting husband. How do you do?"

Neville eyed Draco's offered hand with suspicion. "Well, I suppose," he said, shaking hands after a moment's hesitation.

"A fascinating conversationalist as always, Longbottom."

Neville's lips twitched into a smile at the absurdity of the situation—the bane of his childhood was speaking almost civilly to him! If only his sixteen year-old self could see him now…

As Neville drew out of his amused reverie, Draco was sweeping away in an elegant fashion, making Hannah sputter in outrage as the edges of his royal blue cloak swatted her in the side. Neville fancied he had seem Draco's lips quirk up in return. No—probably just his imagination.

Hannah tugged irritably at his sleeve, spitting venom about her treacherous co-worker and Neville reached for another glass of port. It would be a long night indeed.

"MY DEAR FRIENDS AND ESTEEMED CO-WORKERS," announced the booming voice of Fletcher Drubbins, whose faulty hearing caused him to shout for fear that others couldn't hear him.

"THE TIME HAS COME FOR ME TO SAY MY GOODBYES. I KNOW THAT THIS MAY COME AS A SHOCK TO ALL OF YOU, BUT MY FACULTIES ARE NOT WHAT THEY ONCE WERE."

Neville glanced to his left at the sound of a poorly concealed snicker. His eyes lit upon Draco Malfoy clamping a pale hand over his smiling mouth. Seeing Hannah preoccupied while chatting with her neighbor in the crowd, Neville motioned to the former Slytherin.

"What are you laughing at?"

Draco eyed him in curiosity—Neville found himself inexplicably swallowing to wet his dry mouth at the expression—and told him, "Just yesterday I dropped off a memo for Drubbins and found him….ahh, how to say this delicately?... in flagrante delicto."

Neville cast an incredulous glance toward the stage and the tottering old man shouting on it. "Who with?"

"That's the thing," Draco confided with a sly grin. "There wasn't anyone else…. Apparently he is quite enamored with his desk—in fact, as a reward for his many years of service, the Ministry is letting him take it with him when he goes. Hate to be his successor otherwise."

Forced to hide his own snicker, Neville exchanged a glance of hilarity with the blond. "I wonder—does his wife know?"

Draco eyed the prim woman frowning at her husband shouting on the stage. "If not, she will soon. Don't know who I feel more sorry for…"

"The desk," Neville quipped with a chuckle.

"Quite," Draco responded with a curious smile. He leaned closer. Neville found himself holding his breath unexpectedly and, irritated with himself, released it slowly. Draco was still leaning closer.

"Longbottom," Draco was saying, but Neville was focused more on the tone of voice—deeper than usual, was it?—and not the words.

"Neville!" Hannah trilled in his right ear. He flinched, the moment lost as Draco turned on his heel, and looked toward his wife. "Susan has just had the most wonderful idea!"

Neville nodded, trying to act interested, even as his eyes tracked Draco's progress across the room.