He didn't know how long he hid in the bathroom after witnessing what was, quite possibly, the worst thing he'd ever seen in his life. And that was saying something, as he'd witnessed a great many terrible things in his time. (He refused to acknowledge that, perhaps, he was being entirely overly dramatic, that sort of self reflection could wait). It could have been minutes, it could have been over half an hour, before Draco emerged from the bathroom, after carefully casting cooling and glamour charms over his splotchy skin and bloodshot eyes. He re-entered the drawing room and his eyes immediately found Blaise, who was standing at the bar pounding back shots of some clear liquid. He studied the man, noting that his hair wasn't out of place, his clothes weren't rumpled, and he certainly didn't have the look of someone who'd been freshly fucked. Though, it'd been so long since Draco himself had experienced that particular pleasure that he wasn't entirely sure if he'd still recognize the look. Hermione was nowhere to be found, and the party was winding down. Pansy and Ron were the first to leave, followed closely by Daphne and Adrian. Harry stuck around, having a last drink of Ogden's with Theo and Blaise in the corner while Draco made small talk with Susan, studiously avoiding Astoria's suggestive gaze.