It was a quiet night, for the Ministry had decided to hold a ball to celebrate the first anniversary of the end of the war. Naturally, the Malfoys had been cordially invited, but only Narcissa wanted to attend. Draco had managed to quickly slip away while his parents bickered over whether or not his father would be attending as well. His mother argued that they should building up the Malfoy name again, and the first step was to start being social once more, this time with the right people. Naturally, she was right, but neither Lucius nor Draco were up to pretending life had treated them fairly.

Draco didn't know who won the argument, for he was already long gone to his favorite bar while they were nearing the middle of the argument. Again, Draco found solace in a luke warm glass of some sort of alcoholic drink. He didn't care what it was, or how much it costed, only that it worked. Of course, that had been the topic of the conversation he had less than a year ago with Hermione, but he couldn't remember that far back anymore.

"You should take it easy." A female voice called to him, and slowly Draco raised his head and tried to focus his eyes. It took some doing, but did manage to find her blue eyes, and immediately recognized them.

"You're a waitress too." He tried to ask her a question, but it sounded more like a rude comment. She did not, however, take any offense from his drunken tone and instead just smiled at him.

"Yes." She said simply as she reached across the table to take his glass, but he would not release the handle.

"I'm not done." He told her.

"Yes, you are, Draco." She replied as she reached with her other hand to peel his fingers from the handle. He was so drawn in by the feel of her hand on his, that he didn't even notice that she had used his name. On his icy hand, her fingers felt like fire as she pulled the glass free of his grip. Finally, after she had gotten most of the handle out of his hand, he relinquished the glass and let her pull it from his reach completely.

"You should go home, Draco." She said gently as she looked into his eyes. He stared right back her, until his vision started to fail him and he could not see straight. With a groan, he curled his arms up and rested his head on the table. "Draco," She said strongly, and he didn't like how it sounded. She was so innocent and gentle that using such a harsh tone didn't fit her at all.

"Use the floo and go home." She told him as she tugged on his arm. Deciding to listen to her, for some odd reason, Draco slowly started to move towards the edge of the table, and continued t tug on his arm as though her small frame could ever move him if he weren't moving himself as well.

"Your eyes." Draco had started to speak but stopped as he turned and looked down at her once more. She was mad, that much he could tell, but he didn't understand what it was about him that made women so mad all the time.

"Go home." She repeated, her voice sounding more forceful than ever, except it no longer sounded like she wanted him home for his own health. Instead, he couldn't help the feeling she wanted him away from her, though he had no idea why she would want to away from him. Well, he knew why people wanted to stay away from him, but she was a woman who approached him on her own. Perhaps she was joining the rest of the world.

With that, Draco looked into her eyes once more, finding only a hint of her innocence still intact, before he turned and managed to stumble towards the fireplace. He couldn't remember the exact details of his arrival at the Malfoy Manor, but he was already stripped to his underwear and starting to sober when he realized he'd pushed away the only person who actually wanted to be around him without ever learning her name. Without her name, her eyes were all that were left for him to dream of. Her eyes, and her long dark locks falling in soft natural curls around her shoulders. And her smile. And the way she said his name.