The gathered witches and wizards showed no sign of wanting to file through to the dining room for the meeting yet, and Draco leaned against the wall and waited. And waited. The lounge was a hubbub of noise; old friends who had been apart for weeks or even months greeted each other excitedly, and eager gossip clogged the air, hugs and enthusiastic handshakes, and the occasional tearful commiserations on lost comrades. Draco stood alone in it all, a scowl on his face as around him people hugged and laughed and shared stories. Hermione had escaped from Krum at last, and was talking to Chang, but the Durmstrang graduate was still staring at her from beneath beetling brows. Draco resolved to snog Hermione fucking senseless after this damned meeting was over. Draco watched Krum watch Hermione – who was talking animatedly with Chang – and a large part of him just wanted to stalk back to the cellar and sulk.