"Oh fuck you, Potter," Draco spat in exasperation and shook his head wearily. He was drunk and his leg hurt and his head ached, and apparently his and Hermione’s big secret was common bloody knowledge. He felt like shite and the world was upside down, an all too familiar feeling for Draco these days. He knew should probably tell Potter and Longbottom that he and Hermione weren’t anything anymore, but he couldn’t be fucked. Instead he shot the pair of them a parting glare, and limped away.