Walking out of the pub, cold air rushes over you bringing you back to your senses. Jerking your hand out of the pale grasp of Draco Malfoy's, you turn and break out into a run. Tears are once again streaming down your face. Why did things have to turn out this way?! Why couldn't he just love you the way you needed to be loved?
Slowing to a walk, you try to gain a grasp of your surroundings. Thankfully, the blonde Slytherin is nowhere in sight, but neither is anything else you recognize. A feeling of nausea washes over you; those fire whiskies are not wasting any time catching up to you. Slumping down to the sidewalk, you extend your wand arm to hail the Knight Bus. Of course, as always, it is there before you can even drop your arm. A part of you still expects to see Stan Shunpike greet you, but like so many others, he will never greet you or anyone again. Instead a short stumpy woman beckons you aboard and gestures to a bed, all the while staying as far away from you as possible—It must be obvious that you've drank yourself ill. Slipping into an empty bed, you clinch your eyes tight trying to avoid the horrible sickness rising in you as the bus jerks back to life.
At this point, you really were not capable of comprehending much anything, so even when the lady asked numerous times where it was you were going, you still couldn't seem to make a response.
"The Leaky Cauldron, then?" At that, you managed a nod—your eyes still closed and your breathing controlled.
Your life was completely falling apart. Seeking comfort in the bottle, it seemed to only make it worse. You had wanted so much more than just a physical relationship with Ron, but that was all he had to give, at least to you. Thoughts of Ron brought about feelings of guilt now; you feel so dirty thinking of his hands on your skin of how you made love to him—giving him your very soul. It was just pleasure for him, never anything more than a purely physical relationship with a close friend—
Sleep came fitfully, mostly because of your mental and physical state and partly due to the less than smooth ride of the Knight bus—But it came all the same, until the conductor lady shook you awake and off the bus quicker than you knew you could move. Stumbling into the inn, you nodded to Tom and almost ran out when noticing a head of red hair slump over the bar. With as much mental quickness as possible in your drunken state, you realize that the Weasley at the bar is Gin. Taking the seat next to her, Tom offers you some Pepper-Up potion and some frightening looking soup of which you decline the latter.
Ginny finally turned to look at you; her eyes reflected your pain. Your thoughts mirrored one another's—why's, could have been's…So many questions… She needed to rest, possibly even more than you did.
With a second nod to Tom, you pulled your weary friend into the fireplace and floo'd the two of you to your apartment. It still amazed you the effect those potions could have on you. Even though you would bottom back out, you felt a world better while on the high.
"I almost slept with Malfoy." You both blurt out as you stumble out of the fireplace. It seemed practice flooing did nothing for either of your gracefulness.
"What?!" It seemed you were both given a script with the same lines and timing. A small laugh escaped your lips as you scrutinized the redhead in front of you.
"I'll start," she said. To which, you just nodded. It seemed you were doing a lot of that tonight.
"I was at Nuit Blanche that new bar, ya know the one named and modeled after the French festival. I was pounding drinks; just trying to get away from thoughts of Harry. Luna went along with me, but of course floated off earlier in the evening. Draco was there, buying drinks for some bimbo. I didn't know her—looked like a Beauxbaton girl, you know the type. Anyway, she passed out in one of the booths there, obviously foiling Draco's evening plans. I was already very drunk and he was not near sober either. I was dancing out of the middle of the floor when he slid up next me. Merlin, did he smell good and the way his body was moving against mine. I can't believe I didn't strip right there. He apparated me right off the dance floor into Malfoy Manor; before I knew what was happening, he was kissing me and our robes were on the floor. Then as I was laying there on those silver satin sheets, I just couldn't do it. He looked so good, but I felt like I still belonged to Harry."
"Wow, Gin—wow… My encounter pales to that. I left him in the middle of the street outside a pub." At that a deep, full laugh poured for the girl across from you.
"He must feel horrible. Left by three girls in one night!" You couldn't help but grin at Gin's comment. It was true though, poor boy—you weren't sure he had ever been told no, much less three times in one night.
It felt good to smile—and even better to know that you still could.
Thanks for reading—Hope you enjoyed it.
3 ash