Disclaimer: JKR owns the Wizarding World and all those who inhabit it. Cute is What We Aim For owns the song that inspired this story. In fact, I own nothing. Unless my six figure student loan debt for my undergraduate degree and my current law school tuition count as owning something. If someone wants that, be my guest.

She woke up with her head pounding and groaned. She slowly opened her eyes and looked around. She was in a bed, but she didn't remember how she got there. And why was the bed in such disarray? After a moment she recognized the room she was in as one of the rooms at The Leaky Cauldron. Feeling extremely disconcerted, she tried to think about how she could have ended up tangled in these sheets feeling like her head had been through a blender. Suddenly she had a flash of a memory from the night before and she began to recall exactly what had happened the night before. And she immediately threw up in the garbage can next to the bed.

The day before

"I don't care how much it costs, I just know that if he can see me as more than a little girl that he will realize just how good we could be together!" she yelled. She had spent the last few minutes trying to convince a rather shady wizard to help her procure an aging potion. She had a plan, and the potion was crucial to its success. Unfortunately, the wizard was having none of it and he had finally named an exorbitant price in an attempt to get her to give up and leave. He did not expect her to not only have the money available but also practically throw it at him. Every wizard has his price, and she had just met his. He merely nodded at her and walked into the back of the dingy restaurant in Knockturn Alley. Several minutes later, he emerged with the aging potion she had wanted. She looked at it closely and there was no denying that it was good enough to get her where she wanted – no, needed – to go. She took the potion and left without saying another word. Now that she had accomplished the most difficult aspect of her task, she moved on to the next phase. She spent the next hours getting ready for what she felt was her date with destiny.

She knew that she was beautiful and that there were other wizards who wanted her just as badly as she wanted him, but none of them could even remotely compare to the man who had invaded her every waking hour and had overtaken her thoughts. He knew he just saw her as a girl, but that night she was going to convince him she was a woman. He just needed to see her outside of school, outside of her schoolgirl uniform, her house robes. She was going to be everything he wanted and more, she was going to make him love her, she was going to spend the rest of her life with him. After putting on her new, form-fitting red dress, perfecting her hair and makeup, and slipping into a pair of dangerously high stilettos, she slipped out her room and found her way to Hogsmeade. She knew that he was going to be at The Hog's Head with some of his friends that night, and she was going to be there. She was going to be available. She was going to get the man of her dreams.

Once she got to The Hog's Head, her nerves started to get to her. Not about her plan, but because she was about to have to walk past an age line because The Hog's Head could only be accessed by those of age at night, especially during the summertime when there were so many young witches and wizards wandering around Hogsmeade. She steeled herself, took a deep breath, and walked towards the age line. She was delighted when she passed it with no issues and was able to enter the establishment. She quietly entered and sat at a table near the bar, hoping to remain unnoticed until the object of her fantasies made his appearance. After a few moments, a barmaid appeared at her table. The barmaid looked at her curiously, her attire did make her stand out a bit in the otherwise dim and dirty pub, but made no mention of it.

"What'll you have?" she asked.

She knew that she couldn't ask for something as juvenile as Butterbeer, but she was not overly familiar with alcoholic beverages. She remembered that her father would occasionally drink Firewhisky, so she assumed it would be a safe choice.

"I'll have a Firewhisky," she said.

The barmaid looked at her for a moment. "Are you sure?" she inquired. "Sometimes it's best to be sober when something is troubling you. Helps you think better."

"I don't need to think better. In fact, I need to not think at all. But I will just have one," she replied.

"Okay," the barmaid shrugged. "One Firewhisky coming right up."

After a few moments, the barmaid returned with her drink. She accepted it and waited for the barmaid to leave before she took a sip. She almost choked on the bitter, burning liquid, but she knew that she needed to hold herself together if she was going to accomplish what she had set out to do. She nursed her drink for a while, waiting for him to finally appear. Just when she was starting to give up hope, he walked into the pub. There was no mistaking him. That messy black hair. Those bright green eyes. Even those ridiculous glasses that she would have to convince him to get rid of before their wedding pictures. There had been great advances in charms to improve eyesight, and she would make sure he would take advantage of it. But she was getting ahead of herself. She had to accomplish what she set out to do first. She knew that he had just broke up with his girlfriend, who was nothing compared to her anyway. She was better than that horrid Ginny Weasley in every way, and she was going to prove it to him.

She waited for him to settle in at the bar with a couple of his friends. And waited some more until he had a couple of drinks. Finally, when she thought the timing was right, she moved up next to him at the bar. She ordered herself another drink and waited for it to arrive. He looked at her, but clearly did not recognize her. She didn't know if this would work to her advantage with her plan or not, but she intended to find a way to use it. He looked away from her, looking quite morose. He was likely hurting from his recent breakup, and she was going to be the girl – no, woman – to make him all better. She daintily cleared her throat.

"Are you okay?" she asked, knowing full well that he was not.

He laughed mirthlessly. "Far from it, actually," he replied. He continued to look at her, not sure what to make of this girl who was bothering him when he just wanted to drink away his misery. He had just lost the future he thought he was going to have because his girlfriend decided to run off with some tosser, leaving him to pick up the pieces of his shattered future. Again. He was completely lost in his thoughts until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked over at the girl again, unsure as to what she was doing or why she was suddenly here and all but demanding attention in an outfit that was stunning, but clearly out of place for this particular pub.

"We all have our demons, some are bigger than others. But sometimes you just need to turn off your brain and stop dwelling on those things before you drive yourself insane," she stated. "I've had my fair share of issues, and my whole plan was to get drunk and distract myself from them for a night."

He looked at her appraisingly. He was unsure as to what this beautiful, young woman could have endured to want to get drunk and forget it, but the war had created a lot of nightmares for a lot of people, and he assumed that she had burdens to bear like everyone else who had been impacted by the war. She really was beautiful, and maybe the cure for both of their problems was to spend a night forgetting why they came to the pub in the first place.

"Would you like another drink?" he asked.

A couple of hours later

"I'm not drink, you're drink!" she exclaimed.

"I don't think drink is the word you're looking for," he replied. He could not believe that it only took four drinks to get her this intoxicated. He was mildly buzzed, but she was completely and utterly drunk. The more he looked at her, the more he saw how carefree she seemed. He ordered himself another drink and quickly downed it. A few moments later, he felt her place her hand on his shoulder again and she looked up at him. After a few tense moments, she reached up and her mouth met his. He broke away and took in the scene before him before he threw all caution to the wind and this time he kissed her. After a few moments he broke away again.

"Can we go somewhere with some privacy?" she asked. She knew what she wanted and she knew that she could not have that in the middle of the pub. She was clearly intoxicated, but she remembered enough of her plan to know that she needed to get him somewhere alone. She saw him throw some galleons down on the bar and a few seconds later she felt the familiar tug of side along apparition. She took a second to regain her bearings as best as she could and realized they were in Diagon Alley. It took a second, but she realized they were heading towards The Leaky Cauldron. He stopped her just before they walked into a side entrance.

"This can only be for tonight," he said. "This begins and ends here. I need you to understand that before we go any further."

The alcohol was clouding her judgment, but she knew that if she could just get him alone, if she could take away all of his troubles, if she could make him feel good, that he would change his mind. Even though he said it was a one-night stand, she knew that he just didn't realize how wrong he was yet. She simply nodded her head in understanding, and the next thing she knew, they were entering a side entrance to The Leaky Cauldron while he was kissing her like his life depended on it. They stumbled down the hall and into a room, and in that moment all of her dreams came true. Or so she thought.

Present

The events of the previous night washed over her and she realized that her plan had failed. Yes, he had slept with her. However, the fact that she woke up alone brought back the memories of him telling her it was only a one-night stand. The alcohol and her fantasies hadn't let her understand. He found the bed in the dark, and he had no problem finding the door in the morning. She wasn't getting her happily ever after. He was never coming back. And Romilda was left alone to mourn the loss of her dreams and her innocence, very much a girl in a woman's clothing.

End