"I fear it very much is my business, and I can't – can't let it go if it is, Pansy. You know me. You know that. You can't expect me to... I need to know," Draco got out through numbed lips, his words clipped and harsh, and took another swig of firewhiskey. It scorched his insides but didn't touch him at the same time, and he swore under his breath. He wanted the relief of the firewhiskey spreading through him, leaving his fingers and toes pleasantly numbed and his core filled with warmth, the edges of his thoughts softened and blurred to a bearable level.