Everybody Worth Knowing ((Drake))

[Mary Evans]

Standing in her room Mary pondered how odd the fresh October air felt in this environment, she hadn’t been home in October since she was 10 years old. However, she got a letter in the post a few weeks back from that overbearing mother of hers saying now she was of age she had to attend this annual ball her parents threw, everyone who was anyone was always there and blah blah blah suitable husband and blah blah blah huge disappointment if she couldn’t make it not to mention sever cut in her allowance. Long story short, there she stood in her room wearing an evening gown. The long gold dress flowed silently along the hardwood as her heels clicked away out the door and down the hall toward the grand staircase. Mary looked down and saw the gathering crowd before taking a deep breath and diving right in.

All the same, they were just the same as they had been when she was 10 and 11 and 12… and every other age she ever had been… and now she was expected to be one of them. How sick. Sure, they were the people worth knowing, not something to shun, but… for tonight at least they were so vacant. They were just like her mother, talked all day, arranged things just the way they thought they should be, and did nothing with themselves. They thought that at 17 they were her contemporaries, too self-absorbed to realise… they could be her grandmother… she wasn’t going to look up to them or trust them like sisters… And their husbands… if her mother thought she would marry some yes man who didn’t care about anything that didn’t affect their pocketbook or precious reputation…

White wine, that was perfect, just what she needed to get herself through the night… Grabbing a glass off a passing tray Mary joined the crowd at the bottom of the stairs, smiling at everyone who had watched her descent with interest… These were her mother’s friends, her mother’s colleagues, and the matchmakers who were appraising her for their sons; they could all sod off. The light classical music droned on as Mary walked slowly around the party, as much to be seen as to see what was going on. If she was going to be making an appearance she might as well do it right.

After her third glass of wine Mary thought she recognized someone, obviously dragged out of school too. A glance in the mirror told Mary that her hair was still in the lovely up do just fine and she looked great, if a little flushed from alcohol. Coming up Mary grabbed two more glasses from a passing house elf Mary moved in behind and put her arm right up next to his so they were touching, she couldn’t rest her hand on his arm because of the drink she was holding. “Welcome to my home Mister Manning. How are you enjoying your visit so far? I trust everything is up to your expectations?” she said with a smirk as she proffered one of the glasses and then took a sip from the other.

[Drake Manning]

Another damned party. Drake was sick of his parents parading him around like he was some heir to a throne of wealth and power. Drake was no heir, and quite frankly, he wanted nothing to do with his parents' money, not that they really held any power. Plus, hadn't they already found him a future wife? Sure, she was dying of cancer, but he was still in the arranged marriage nonetheless. Perhaps they were now finding a backup wife for him. How wonderful. Drake scowled at the doorman as they entered the mansion. He hadn't even paid any attention when his parents told him who the party was even hosted by. As long as there was alcohol, Drake would find a way to get through the evening.

Many adults were gathered in their circles. Drake watched with disdain as they offered fake smiles and phony laughter. In just fifteen minutes, he had downed a fair amount of wine. For Drake's standard though, he was only half way to having any sort of desired affect. Right about the time that the noise began to become muddled in the background was when Drake finally felt that sense of freedom that he always desired. There were very few teenagers at the party, and the one girl that he did recognize was the same girl he remembered from a party last year. Let's just say she wouldn't be eager to start a conversation with Drake any time soon. He smirked and contemplated approaching her but then decided against it. If he remembered correctly, she was quite annoying once she realized Drake wasn't in to all of the glitz and glamour. She was obviously only there to become part of the world that Drake so desperately wanted to escape from.

As he stifled a yawn, Drake felt someone brush up against him. Irritated at first, he was about to say something when he noticed a familiar head of red hair and much to his liking, she came bearing gifts. "Would it be a cliche if I said you were the best hostess here?" Drake smiled a smile of appreciation, taking the drink that Mary offered. So it was her house. Ironic that his fellow prefect and Quidditch player was the host of this party. It seemed though that Mary was just as bored as he was, which he didn't seem surprised by. Drake had always seen Mary as an independent person, not catering the whim of everyone else and wanting to just fit in. After all, she was one of a few girls that Drake didn't take lightly. He sensed that her manipulation skills probably rivaled him. It's almost as though he were playing with fire, afraid that Mary and her auburn hair might leave him burned. Drake smirked at the thought, taking a drink to hide his secretive pondering.

Regardless, despite being bored out of his mind and annoyed that his parents made him come, Drake was happy for some company outside of his usual loneliness or time spent with India or Brianna. He was still unsure about everything that was happening with them. Having Mary there almost felt like a relief, a chance for the old Drake to stretch his wings and drink away his worries. At least her company was up to his level of intellect. Some girls made it hard for him to stand them. It was then that he'd have to consume even more alcohol than normal just to make them seem bearable. "Where do you keep the good stuff?" he asked, holding out his empty glass for the nearest house-elf to take away. Drake's eyes danced mischievously across Mary's figure, taking in her stunning appearance in the golden gown.

[Mary Evans]

Drake’s smile in greeting let Mary know that she wasn’t the only one pleased with this turn of events. It was pretty clear that he was finding the party just as enthralling as she was; misery loves company. So did alcohol and Mary had consumed just about her limit and still had to finish the drink she was sipping. “Cliché? Probably. True? Absolutely. But that’s okay, we both know I am the best everything in this room to you, aren’t I? You don’t have to answer that, I doubt your girlfriend, sorry, girlfriends would like the answer much; don’t want to put you in a tight spot.” Mary reached and pushed back a tendril of hair which had fallen down onto her neck, taking care to hold her hand near her neck a moment longer than was entirely necessary.

“Of course, if the rumours are true, you manage to get yourself into trouble often enough that it’s nothing to be worried about. Then again, isn’t that why we’re here? To hear all the new rumours and set the records to our liking? And, naturally, bringing attention to the depletion of the panda population, like it says on the invitations. Who knew that this many people had such kind hearts as to come all this way and look so nice for the poor panda population?” Mary’s hand moved in a gracious gesture to the crowd, who judging by the amount of fur on some of the ladies, clearly didn’t care in the slightest if all the pandas in the world were extinct, it would only make their coats more sought-after. “As for the good stuff, does it really taste any different at this point? You may not be sloshed, Dear, but you’re clearly not sober. Your eyes have rested on me far too long, clearly you forget yourself.” Covering her mouth in a delicate manor Mary giggled at herself, clearly amused.

Moving two or three steps away, so she was no longer touching Drake, Mary turned back to him. “I suppose a proper toast is in order, for the pandas. That is if you can tear yourself away from all these charmant people long enough to come get something strong.” Knowing he would follow Mary walked off. He had to follow, not only was she arrogant enough to know she had his attention, Mary was well aware that she was head girl and quidditch captain to him, he didn’t want to displease her even if he didn’t want to come, which he did.

[Drake Manning]

Poise and sophistication. Drake had to remind himself why he had considered Mary a tier above the rest of the girls in his year. It almost seemed as though she planned out every single word. Perfection and nothing less. Drake was hooked. She was way beyond his abilities though, but then again, she was seemingly drunk. Perhaps the playing field was evened. "My life is a tight spot," he said, admiring the fact that Mary was unafraid to come at him with her cheeky wit. "And who says we can't add you to that list of girlfriends anyways?" Drake was being overly confident, considering who he was talking to. Still, despite the fact that Mary wasn't just another girl he could wrap around his finger, Drake wasn't going to stop from trying. He'd hate to disappoint her.

He couldn't help but scoff at her comments about why they were there. It was a joke. Clearly Mary had no qualm in mocking the idea of the party, which made Drake admire her that much more. She refused to be a drone, playing the role of the supportive wife. "When am I ever sober?" he asked, taking another look just to test the limits. Though she seemed quite aware of his ways and his motives, Mary didn't seem to be doing anything to stop him. It was almost as though she was willing to play his game. She must have been confident she'd walk away the winner. Drake's confidence again took another blow. He held his composure.

She wasted no time in fulfilling his request for something more. Drake didn't think twice about whether or not he'd follow her. Before her glowing gown and fiery red hair could disappear within the crowd, Drake trudged after her. "And just where are we going to get the good stuff?" he asked, following Mary as though he were a dog and she his master. It was sad what he wouldn't do for a little bit of alcohol and a beautiful girl. Though, whereas Drake was normally the aggressor, it seemed tonight he was the victim. Mary seemed to have him by his ear. Still, she had yet to meet the real Drake Manning. The mask had yet to come off.

[Mary Evans]

She was right, he followed. Mary almost got the feeling she could lead Drake off the edge of the planet at that moment, if she wanted to. Winding her way through the crowds Mary heard her heels clicking and refused to look back; in her swirling head she felt like Orpheus leading Eurydice out of Hades, don’t look back or he’ll disappear. People waved at her, likely at the pair of them but Mary wound her way through the crowd in such a way he would never be able to get beside her, and Mary smiled back as though she were just exiting the party to freshen up a minute. Down another hall the crowd thinned a bit and Mary took a door on the left at the far end of the hall, the room was completely empty and slightly dark. Leaving the door only slightly ajar Mary walked across the room to a large desk and flipped on a small lamp, causing a puddle of light to highlight the large dark wood desk and cast a slight glow on the rest of the space.

Still refusing to look up and see if Drake had followed her, though the light tread of footsteps indicated that he had, Mary sat at the far side of the desk, facing the room, and pulled open the bottom drawer. With a small clink Mary placed two tumblers on the desk, perhaps a little harder than intended, and reached back for the half empty bottle of Grand Marnier. “Here we go”, Mary said pouring a large quantity of amber liquid into each glass, “Do you have a light? No matter. We don’t really want to burn of the precious intoxicant do we? Warm enough in here anyways.”

Finally, glasses poured, Mary sat back in her chair and downed the last sip of the wine she had grabbed before catching up with Drake. “A toast?” she said picking up one of the tumblers and looking up into the dark room, searching for Drake who she was certain had followed her in.

[Drake Manning]

The undeniable sense of tingling in his fingertips let Drake know that the first few drinks of alcohol were doing their job. Blissfully, he welcomed the feeling. Mary turned down a hall, and Drake wasn't more than a step behind. He didn't hesitate to disappear behind the same door as she did when the hall ended. It was dark, but then Mary turned on a light which revealed a rich desk. Her father's desk, he assumed.

Almost as though she had an agenda, Mary had placed two heavy glasses on the desk and produced a half-full bottle of what Drake liked to call 'liquid gold.' "You don't spare any expense, do you Evans?" He gave a snort of amusement when she suggested lighting their drinks, only to change her mind when she concluded it would only waste the alcohol. "Cold. Just like you? Or would you consider yourself hot?"

"A toast," he agreed, taking the other glass which Mary had poured. "To the pandas." Drake rolled his eyes as he raised his glass. The cold liquid was surprisingly warm as it passed his throat. Much more noticeable than the wine. He swallowed, and one might think he was a man in his mid forties who was drinking a nightly scotch with the evening newspaper. Drake didn't even flinch. The truth was, despite being a seventeen year old, he had learned to become immune to the burn. There was no doubt about it, Drake was clearly cold.

"So how about a real toast?" he said, using his free hand to loosen his tie. Drake hated wearing ties. They only reminded him of how silly it was to dress up and parade around like he was someone who meant something. "A toast to ignorance, and never knowing what's going to bloody happen tomorrow. Now that's a concept worth drinking to." Drake finished the rest of his Grand Marnier, setting glass back down on the desk with a heavy sigh. He was starting to get drunk.

[Mary Evans]

“Why should I spare any expense when my parents are footing the bill?” Mary asked with a cocked eyebrow. “It’s not like they would ever notice, or care really. As long as I was seen at that damnable party my mother can continue on like her plan is in line. Her friends will say how charming I was, and she will just smile as though that was all her doing. It’s ridiculous. But it does have it’s benefits, like being able to hang out in here and catch my breath.” Realising she had said more than she intended Mary bit her lip momentarily, clearly it wasn’t always advantageous that she drink, but then again, it was better than being sober at a party such as this.

Ignoring Drake’s bate about whether Mary considered herself cold or hot Mary downed her drink as Drake toasted the pandas. Refilling the glass again Mary took another slower sip. She magically refilled the bottle, no point letting it go dry; they could be in for a long night.

Drake suggested a real toast and Mary let her head swim pleasantly as he spoke. “That is quite the toast, almost makes me wonder what you’re afraid to know Drake Manning. Between you and me, I like to have my bases covered.” Taking a sip none the less Mary gave Drake a long look. When she placed down her glass she refilled his, leaving her own half empty.

“I like to know what’s coming up behind me, make sure it doesn’t take me by surprise. Only Gryffindors let you see them think. Dangerous thing to do.” Now Mary was certainly saying more than she intended and tried to cover it up with a sly grin and a bit of a spin, “But then from what I hear you like to play dangerous games, don’t you Drake?”

[Drake Manning]

Her charming wit. That devilish grin. Drake was having a hard time not starring at Mary while the drinks between them continued. Granted, he was never too picky when it came to girls, but Mary was clearly a level above most. She was well-known, well respected, and attractive in her own mysterious sort of way. She was almost like the 'good china' that sat high up on the shelf. It was rarely used, mostly for show, and essentially off limits. Drake hated when things were off limits.

"The truth is dangerous," he mused, providing reason for why he preferred ignorance. "Far more dangerous than I'll ever be." He smirked at the knowledge that his reputation was one of danger. The truth was that Drake was not really that dangerous at all. He was often cold-hearted and usually selfish, but it was all just a front. A front to hide the overwhelming weakness that he seemed to dwell on.

When Mary refilled his glass, Drake reached for it and then stopped. He didn't really need anymore and he wasn't convinced that he wanted anymore. It had just been a habit for him. Drink until you feel nothing. Drink until it's numb. Maybe for once, he'd see what it was like to feel. To feel afraid and have no way of making it go away.

"What are you afraid of, Mary?" he asked. It was a bold question. Perhaps even a stupid question for him to expect an answer to. Why would Mary Evans, Head Girl, Quidditch Captain, tell Drake Manning her fears on a whim. He doubted she would but it didn't stop him from asking. The sincerity of his question though was clearly evident. There was no way Mary could have assumed that he was just trying to play a game with her.

[Mary Evans]

Knowing this was all a very dangerous line of conversation to get into Mary downed the rest of her glass; might as well continue when they got this far. She refilled her own glass and gave Drake a long look, noticing he wasn’t finishing up his own. The sincerity of the question… and the fact that she had never told anyone what she was scared of… she had never even had anyone ask… “What am I afraid of? I’m afraid of the same thing I imagine you are, Drake Manning. I am afraid, not of dying, but of dying alone and lonely. Afraid that at the end the only person who will ever really have known me is me. Even more than that though, I am afraid of letting someone in, telling someone things like this… and then dying alone and lonely anyways.

“So tell me Drake, what do you think? Do you think I am doomed to a life of aloof loneliness? Or will I grow up and laugh at my teenage angst?” Picking up her newly filled glass Mary once more emptied it in one gulp. “I think, I think I am going to be sick.”

Shakily Mary stood up from her chair, bracing herself on the large desk. Mary chuckled to herself, “No way to do this gracefully, eh?” she took a few steps then turned her back to Drake so she could focus her eyes on the wall behind her. Taking a few large gulps of air Mary’s body began to relax and she managed to turn back again. “Sorry… so sorry…”

[Drake Manning]

He noted the serious look in her eyes, half expecting her to brush off his question. But, she didn't. Instead, she took another drink of the alcohol and gave it to him quite straight-forwardly. He was silent. Mary's answer caused him to think, something that wasn't so common for Drake. When he was with a girl and they were drinking, the last thing he wanted to do was think. Lo and behold though, there they were, two of the most reputable Slytherins, having a conversation as deep as the ocean itself. Drake finished his drink.

"Why am I not surprised that you hit the nail on the head?" he asked, pushing his glass forward to indicate that she could refill his as well. While she did, she then posed a question for Drake. He smiled. The thought of being able to answer her truthfully was amusing. "I think you've got nothing to worry about," he said with a genuine smile (so rare for Drake), before tipping his glass again to keep up with Mary.

"Easy does it," he said quickly as she stood and wobbled a bit to get her balance. He surely hoped she wouldn't vomit all over the place. That'd be quite unappealing. She turned back to him though, thankfully avoiding making a mess. "No apologies needed," he said with a smirk. His eyes flashed back to the bottle. It was nearly empty. Drake let out a quiet laugh before taking it in his hands and quickly downing the last gulp. "We went far enough. Might has well of finished it, yeah?" He felt his own stomach do a few flips before he squelched the urge to vomit himself.

"I'd say we ought to return to the party, though I'm not so sure our parents would be happy with our current inability to walk straight," he noted with another laugh. This was the first time he'd remembered that he got drunk with a girl that wasn't ending with the two of them naked in his bed. With Mary though, it just didn't seem like an option. Though he wouldn't outwardly call her a close friend, that's what it felt like, sitting in the room with her while the rest of the party guests enjoyed the food and company in the lounge.