Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Note: Trigger warning: mention and discussion of depression

Chapter 10 - December 30, 2003

"Do you have someone special in mind that you are going with, dear?" Madame Malkin asked as she began to pin the hem of the gold gown Hermione stood in facing the mirrors.

"Yes. I do." Hermione answered, trying to remain as still as possible. The dress seemed to move fluidly around her of its own accord. She couldn't believe how weightless it felt on her. The shimmer alone from the fabric was going to be enough to catch several eyes, but she was more concerned about the damn thing falling off. "It feels very loose."

"Well, you are quite slim, dear. I'll need to take it in everywhere for you. But don't worry, it will be done for Saturday evening."

"I have every faith." Hermione gazed down at the shop owner in the mirror.

They shared a smile and Madame Malkin went back to work on the hem of Hermione's gown. Once finished she moved on to the bodice, and took down the new measurements. "That's you done." She announced as she swirled her wand and the gown disappeared, leaving Hermione dressed in her own clothing once more.

"Thank you. I'll come by on Friday to pick it up."

"I'll have it ready." Madame Malkin promised.

Hermione thanked Madam Malkin again and made her way out. Diagon Alley was slightly less crowded than it had been a couple hours earlier, and she was able to walk among the shops in peace, stopping here and there to peruse window displays.

She returned Friday evening after leaving the Ministry to pick up her dress. Madame Malkin had her put it on one more time before leaving to check the fit, deemed it perfect, and sent Hermione on her way. Once back at her flat she hung the gown on her bathroom door and stared at it. Yes, she decided, Draco would like it despite the Gryffindor gold. She had considered a silver dress first, but was unsure how the color would contrast with her pale skin. Draco could wear gray, any shade of it, and pull it off beautifully she had noticed.

Then again, he could wear just about anything and make it look stylish.

As Hermione got ready the following evening she felt the beginnings of nerves. Her mind whirled with the possibilities of the evening. Not that it mattered, but she knew there were going to be whispers and stares following them everywhere. She wasn't sure how Draco would react, or how he would take insinuations that they were together.

Because they weren't.

One date did not a relationship make. Even if that one date had been wonderful. (At least in Hermione's opinion it was).

As far as Hermione could tell, Draco didn't seem interested in anything more than friendship.

And that was ok, she told herself. She wasn't looking for anything serious, or a real commitment right now either. But how would Draco act if someone were to ask?

No use worrying about it if doesn't actually happen, Hermione mused as she applied a little makeup and charmed her hair into an intricate braided knot behind her left ear. Another swirl of her wand and a half dozen sparkling, gold charms adorned the up-do. She was pleased with the overall effect and thought it looked very elegant. More elegant than she was used to seeing herself. She was only twenty-four, but she felt so much older. Physically she was closer to thirty, thanks to her excessive use of the Time-Turner in her third year. But a witch's body didn't show age the same way a muggle female's body did. Something to do with the way magic affects the whole aging process. Of course, Hermione knew so much more about it, but her mind didn't want to process that line of thinking right now.

She let out a breath as she gave her appearance another once-over, fixed the fall of a stray curl by her right ear, and smiled at her reflection. Not a full smile, the one she reserved for the Daily Prophet photographers. Never give anything away, she told herself as she nodded to her reflection. She was ready.

Hermione arrived early at the Ministry, early enough that the tables were just beginning to be set up in the Atrium. She waved to Kingsley as she passed him on her way to the lifts.

Draco had asked Hermione to meet him in his office tonight. He had wanted to come in today to get ahead on a particularly difficult chest he had been brought by one of the remaining members of the Travers family, discovered in the family vault. And instead of attempting to open it (like most families do when they find a long-lost item that has a lock on it) it was brought in via the goblins so Draco could examine it.

He spent the morning detailing the chest and writing up the spells and curses he could pick up on the outside of the chest. It wasn't very large, about the size of an average keepsake box. Runes and Latin spells were etched into the wood and there were old stains on it that Draco suspected were blood, but could very well be potion spills. He got up from his chair after finishing a final note and pulled on his dragonhide gloves, the ones that went past his wrist, and reached out one hand to the chest. From what he could tell so far, the curses on the outside were meant to deter. They would cause pain and minor injury upon direct contact, but nothing more serious than that.

Still, Draco took his time.

He rested first the tips of his fingers on the top of the chest, and when nothing happened, the dragonhide protecting his skin, he rested his palm on the curved lid. Draco picked up his wand and, holding the chest steady, started his first string of spells to open the lock. Nothing happened.

"Damn," Draco cursed under his breath and set his wand down.

He took the chest in both hands, now that he knew it was safe to touch with the gloves on, and carried it over to the cabinet in the corner where he locked up everything he was working on so it wasn't left out for accidents to happen. He turned back to his office after locking the cabinet door, surprised to see Hermione standing there.

He froze.

She was stunning.

Her slim frame was draped in gold that sparkled softly in the muted light of his office. The fabric clung to her small curves, but it wasn't inappropriately tight. Just enough to show off her feminine figure. Her hair was caught up in a stylish bun behind her left ear, and from where he stood, Draco could see something shine from amongst the light brown curls and braids. Her makeup was soft, accentuating her already lovely features.

"Having a difficult time?" Hermione asked.

"What?" Draco asked, not sure what she was referencing.

"The chest you just put away." She nodded at the cabinet behind him.

"Oh. Um, yes. How long have you been there?" Draco asked, shaking himself from the daze he had fallen into. He walked back to his desk, removing his gloves, and dropped them on top of a pile of parchment.

"A few minutes." Hermione smiled at him. "Are you ready?"

Draco nodded, chancing a glance up at her and letting his eyes wander over her frame as he pulled on his black waistcoat over the black dress shirt and tie he was already wearing, then his best black dress robes.

"With all of the variety I've seen in your wardrobe you chose to wear straight black?" Hermione teased.

"I look good in it."

Hermione dropped her eyes and bit her lower lip to keep from responding. She wasn't going to argue that point.

"And while that dress is going to be unequaled to anything any other witch is wearing tonight, I would like to make one small adjustment."

Hermione looked down at the gold of her gown and back up to Draco, her brows drawn in confusion. "What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing." Draco grinned at her. "I want to add to it."

"How exactly?" She was suspicious, but she knew Draco wouldn't do anything to her dress to embarrass her. Right?

"Just hold still a moment." Draco pulled his wand out and muttered under his breath as he performed a swirl and swish motion. "There. You can open your eyes now, Hermione."

Hermione cracked them, not having realized she had shut her eyes in the first place. She looked down at her dress again. At first, she noticed no difference. But then she twisted and gasped. As she moved, and the material of the dress moved with her, it shimmered from gold to silver and back to gold. The material changed with the slightest twitch from her. It was difficult to tell the true color of the dress as it flashed between the two hues.

"Oh Merlin…" She breathed as she turned, making the hem swish.

"I take it you like it?" Draco asked as he shut his office door and locked it.

"It's...where did you learn this?"

"A magician never tells." Draco smirked at her and offered his arm.

Hermione took it feeling a blush creep into her cheeks. "Are you making a muggle reference?"

"Don't act too surprised."

"I am, and I'm not."

"That sounds about right."

She held onto Draco as they rode back to the Atrium in the lift and all the way across the grand entrance of the Ministry to the tables. As she predicted, stares and whispers followed, but they didn't seem to realize that it was Hermione on Draco's arm. People were merely surprised to see Draco in attendance at all.

Of course, Harry couldn't be fooled, and walked over to join the table where Hermione and Draco sat as soon as he and Ginny arrived. Harry greeted his friend with a kiss to her cheek and shook Draco's hand civilly, even though he stared the other wizard down. Hermione noticed that they weren't exactly trying to avoid breaking the other's hand.

"Maybe we should go get drinks?" Ginny offered, picking up on the tension as well.

"No, I'll get them. You two sit and catch up." Harry offered. "Malfoy." He indicated for Draco to come with him. And much to Hermione's surprise, Draco followed.

Not that he was allowing Potter to order him around, a Malfoy never took orders from anyone, but he could tell the Auror wanted to talk. He could grant that much. For now.

"What's on your mind?" Draco asked as they approached the comestibles table.

Harry grabbed two glasses of champagne. "Did you ask her or did she ask you?"

"Tonight? She did. Why does that matter?" Draco turned to the wizard behind the table and asked for a glass of firewhiskey.

Harry sighed. "Don't take this the wrong way, because I don't know what there is between you and Hermione, but she's been hurt enough by everything that happened with Ron. And now with him and Lavender married…"

"Wait," Draco cut in, he grabbed the glass that had been placed in front of him. "Does Hermione know they got married? I don't remember seeing anything in the Prophet."

"Because there wasn't. They just got married on Christmas Eve. It was very small, very private."

Draco was confused. He assumed with the engagement being announced that a grand ceremony was to follow. Another one from the Golden Trio ties the knot, or something equally asinine. But why so soon?

"I assume there's a good reason."

"Ron didn't say anything to me, but I think Lavender is pregnant. She was showing a little in her wedding dress. Or that could have been the sheer volume of the dress itself." Harry shrugged and nodded toward the table. "Don't say anything to Hermione, please. I'll talk to her."

"Why are you telling me anything at all?" Draco finished his firewhiskey and asked for another.

"Because she seems happy around you, Malfoy. Despite what I may think your intentions are, you make her smile. And I haven't seen Hermione smile in a long time."

"So, I'm supposed to be the pillow that cushions her fall?"

"I think she would go to you, yes."

They were both silent for a minute as Draco sipped his whiskey, and Potter stood there looking awkward with the two glasses still in his hands.

"What do you think my intentions are?" Draco asked after he thought he had made Potter squirm long enough.

"If they are anything less than honorable, just know that if you do hurt her…"

"There's no need to threaten me, Potter, because I won't hurt her. We're just friends."

"If you say so. Let's go back before they get suspicious."

Draco nodded in agreement and they walked back to the table. Shortly after they sat down Harry noticed Ron arrive with Lavender on his arm. She was wearing a very frilly baby pink dress that draped in such a way as to camouflage the small bump Harry knew was there. He watched them walk over to a table already inhabited by Percy and his wife Penelope.

Ron looked around as he held out Lavender's chair for her, obviously searching. Harry was thankful that his friend's eyes did not find him right away. He wanted to approach Ron first, but not until he spoke to Hermione. Privately.

Harry never got the chance. The group of four spent the first hour debating over several topics as hour 'devours were served and Ministry witches and wizards came over to greet and chat with Harry and Hermione. Kingsely himself sat down at the table to discuss his restructuring ideas for the Auror department. He had already spoken with the Head Auror, but since Harry was second in command, he wanted to speak to the younger wizard as well. Ginny, Hermione, and Draco entertained themselves with some wizard watching for nearly fifteen minutes until dinner was served and Kingsley retreated to his own table.

After dinner, the hired entertainment for the night struck up quite a few lively tunes, and Harry found himself on the dance floor twirling his wife around as he had on their wedding day. Ginny laughed and let him dip her, just for fun. She had already partaken of the champagne quite freely, and Harry knew he would be on bottle duty the next morning with little James.

He glanced back at the table from time to time, but Draco and Hermione never got up to dance together. They sat, deep in conversation, picking at their dinners (both of which had barely been touched). Harry knew he shouldn't feel concerned, but Hermione was starting to adapt her old habit of not eating. And she only skipped meals, or picked like she was now, when something was bothering her.

He was almost positive that she didn't know about Ron and Lavender, or she would have come to him to talk. Or maybe she wouldn't. Now that Harry thought about it, Hermione had become very private since her breakup with Ron. She didn't reveal as much anymore, and talked around questions put to her to avoid giving answers.

Harry watched her and Draco interact for a minute longer. Hermione reached out and placed her hand on Draco's very briefly before pulling it away. Had Draco been lying before when he said they were just friends?

"What's so interesting?" Ginny asked, turning to look in the same direction her husband was. She watched Hermione and Draco interact for a moment and then looked back to Harry. "Do you think they're secretly seeing each other?"

"I don't know." Harry answered honestly. He spun Ginny out and pulled her in. "Do you?"

Ginny shrugged. She had been surprised when Draco showed up to the party on Christmas Eve. They had invited Hermione over for a small gathering they had planned after the reception for Ron and Lavender, (Ginny had attended the wedding in the morning, but Harry had been unable). A lot of their friends from Hogwarts had not been invited to the ceremony, and Ginny wanted to have them all over for Christmas. Hermione included. Molly had intended to invite Hermione to the wedding to be polite, and because Hermione was still another daughter to her. Until Harry stepped in and talked Molly out of it. He understood the gesture his mother-in-law was trying to make, but inviting Hermione to the wedding was throwing the memory of Ron cheating in her face.

Ginny had been surprised not only by Draco's appearance on Christmas Eve, but also by the way Hermione seemed to gravitate toward him all night. She was always by his side, inching closer as the evening wore on.

Seeing them now across the way, she was sure something was going on. But what exactly, she had no idea. If Hermione wanted to confide in her, she would. Until then, Ginny was staying well out of it. Hermione was a grown witch and she could make her own decisions about who she wanted to be with. Draco Malfoy was not the worst choice, (in Ginny's book at least). Even though he was a former Death Eater, and had tormented Hermione through her first five years of Hogwarts. She could do a lot worse.

"So, what if they are?" Ginny questioned.

Harry shrugged now. "It doesn't matter. So long as Malfoy doesn't do anything to make me regret regretting cursing him in Sixth year."

Ginny giggled and leaned up on her toes to kiss her husband. "I don't think your moral conscience would ever let you forget."

~S~

Hermione smiled as she glanced over to the dance floor and watched Ginny peck Harry sweetly on the lips before he spun her out again. Draco turned around, noticed the lovesick Potter couple, and rolled his eyes. He returned his gaze to Hermione, who frowned at him and crossed her arms. "What?"

"Don't be judgmental." She chided.

"I'm not a fan of public displays of affection. And those two are so…" Draco made a disgusted face and Hermione laughed quietly.

"They love each other. I think it's sweet."

"Sickening." Draco drawled, giving a shudder.

Hermione giggled again, and shook her head. Draco joined her this time and then stood up letting out a long breath. "I need another drink. Can I get you something?"

"I won't say no to a glass of wine." Hermione requested as she got up as well. She let the motion naturally stretch her muscles and sighed quietly, missing the heated look Draco cast in her direction.

"I'll be right back." He muttered and disappeared.

Hermione looked around, catching site of Ginny and Harry and waved at her friends as they passed nearby on the dance floor.

"Hi, 'Mione."

Hermione turned sharply to see Ron behind her. He smiled, looking embarrassed, hands shoved in his pockets. He shifted from one foot to the other, looking from her to the floor and back.

"Hi, Ron. Did you have a nice Christmas?"

"It was good, yeah." He answered. "I just wanted to come over and say hi. And that you look really nice."

"Oh. Thank you. You look nice, too. Black suits you for dress robes."

Ron blushed and offered her a tight smile. "Thanks, 'Mione."

"So," She started slowly, folding her hands. "How are things?" It was the most awkward moment she could remember with Ron.

"Good. Lav and I…" Ron started, but trailed off as Lavender suddenly appeared on his arm as though he had summoned her.

"There you are." She simpered at him. Her eyes flicked momentarily to Hermione, then she folded her hands around Ron's arm. "I was wondering where my husband got off to."

Hermione felt her eyes widen and she looked down, catching sight of the glittering ring so prominently displayed on Lavender's left hand. Not that she should feel surprised, their engagement had been publicly announced. She just hadn't expected the marriage to happen so quickly.

Ron blushed furiously at Lavender's statement and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. "I'll be right back, Lavender. I just wanted to catch up with Hermione."

"Oh! Did you tell her the good news?" Lavender asked, flicking her eyes to Hermione again.

"I noticed." Hermione smiled politely, indicating the ring on Lavender's finger. "Congratulations."

"Thank you," Lavender laughed, "but there's more."

"Lav, wait, please." Ron muttered.

But Lavender didn't hear him, or just ignored Ron completely, and barreled on. "We're having a baby, too."

Hermione's mouth dropped open this time. "Oh!" She breathed out. "That's…that's wonderful." Her stomach twisted painfully, but she showed no sign of distress.

"It is, isn't it?" Lavender simpered again. "We haven't even been together officially one year and I've given Ronald everything he ever wanted."

Ron blanched and looked sharply at Lavender. He chanced a look back at Hermione. Her expression was guarded, but he could tell Lavender's remark had struck her hard. He watched as she smiled at them, eyes shining.

"Congratulations, again. I'm very happy for you both." She said quietly.

Lavender smiled sweetly at her and gave Ron's arm a tug. "Come on, Won-won, they're going to count down to midnight soon."

Ron let himself be pulled along. He tried to say something to Hermione as he walked past her, but words failed him.

Hermione stood there staring at the spot the couple had occupied until a breath escaped her and she groped behind herself for a chair. She had only just collapsed into it as Draco arrived at the table.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" He asked, noticing the distress on her face and the way her arms were wrapped around her torso.

"I…I need to leave." She whispered, eyes closed tight. If she could just make it to the fireplaces and Floo back to her flat she would be all right. She could lose it as soon as she was home.

"Ok, let's go." Draco helped her up and wrapped an arm around her as they walked in the opposite direction of the crowd headed for the dance floor. One minute to midnight.

Harry pulled Ginny into his side as midnight approached and looked back over his shoulder to see if Hermione and Draco had joined the bustle on the dance floor. When he didn't find them right away his eyes searched, finally spotting them walking toward the fireplaces. Hermione was leaning into Draco's side, his arm around her back. It didn't look intimate, more like support.

Harry searched the crowd again, his eyes finding Ron's. Lavender was standing beside him, chatting with the witch next to her and laughing. Ron looked ashamed. Harry nodded in Hermione and Draco's direction. He looked over his shoulder and then turned back to Harry, ashen. He shook his head indicating he couldn't talk about it.

Harry narrowed his eyes and looked at Lavender. Somehow, he knew this was her fault.

Ginny grabbed his hand just then, distracting him. He looked back up at the clock behind the stage. Ten seconds to go. But the fun had been sucked out of him. He almost didn't notice when Ginny grabbed his face and pulled him down for a kiss. He kissed her back just in time before she realized how distracted he was.

"Happy New Year, Harry." She smiled brilliantly at him.

"Happy New Year, Gin.

~S~

Draco stepped into the fireplace beside Hermione, holding tightly to her hand. He called out the address of his flat and the next moment they were spinning together and then stepping from his fireplace. Hermione thanked him quietly and let go of his hand. Draco watched her cross the room and stop in front of his French doors, staring out at the night and the cacophony of colors being shot into the air from the bank of the Thames. Draco ducked into his kitchen and grabbed his oldest bottle of Ogden's. He had taken it from his father's personal collection the last time he had been at the manor and put it away, only to be taken out on those really horrible days.

Well, tonight certainly counted, as far as he could tell.

When he returned to the sitting room, Hermione had moved to the couch, with her knees drawn up and arms wrapped tight around her legs. Draco sat next to her and handed her a glass of the firewhiskey. Hermione took it, fingers trembling.

"Thank you, Draco."

Draco nodded and sipped from his glass. "May I ask?"

"What happened?" Hermione questioned back. "Ron. Lavender." She muttered their names as she sipped her alcohol. "I mean, mostly Lavender."

"I'm surprised you didn't let it roll right off you."

"Not this." Hermione breathed. She tipped back the rest of the whiskey and looked at Draco. "Do you have more?"

Draco had thought ahead and brought the bottle with him. He refilled her glass a third of the way. Hermione murmured her thanks and sipped from the fresh glass.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Draco pressed gently.

"No. Yes." Hermione blurted out.

"You don't have to, if you don't want to." Draco assured her.

"My Healer told me it would be beneficial to talk about it. Or anything, really, that's troubling me. She reminds me every week."

Draco felt his eyes widen. Hermione saw a Healer every week?

"Are you ill?"

"No." Hermione shook her head. She hadn't looked up from her glass in several minutes. But now she raised her head. Draco saw that the light that had been dancing in her eyes this evening was extinguished. "It's just hard to get through the day sometimes. I talk to her, and she takes me through different mind practices to help sort out my feelings and thoughts. I didn't need to see her for years. But then Ron and I split…and I started seeing her again."

"Can I ask what for?"

Hermione shrugged. "In muggle terms, it's called depression. I've had it for years, according to my Healer. I've just suppressed it."

Draco had heard of it. One of the younger curse-breakers he had trained with was muggle-born. His mother had suffered from the condition after his father left when he had been a child. Draco remembered him telling stories of days where his mother wouldn't get out of bed. Thankfully his grandmother had moved in to fill the vacancy of his missing parent, so he hadn't gone uncared for. But it took his mother months to find a modicum of herself again and resume a semi-normal life.

Draco was horrified and wondered if his own mother was suffering something similar. Unfortunately, there was no magic potion to cure the effects. He had researched it. There were only draughts to bring temporary peace of mind, or happiness. But when the effects of those wore off, the drinker was still left with the imbalance causing the depression in the first place.

It seemed to him that it left someone feeling broken.

And that was a feeling Draco knew well. He'd felt that way so many times in his youth. Specifically, his teenage years. Even more specifically since he received the Dark Mark. Seven years now he had been living with the poison of it. Seven years he had been struggling to prove to himself that he was not as weak as his father. He wouldn't take the easy way out and succumb to the darkness, let it harden his heart until he was dead inside. Because that had been the cause of Lucius Malfoy's emotional downfall. He shut his heart away from everything and everyone, presented an outward façade of uncaring. In his father's defense, according to his mother, Lucius only showed such coldness to protect his family. But just the fact that his father considered love a weakness was reason enough for Draco to keep fighting his personal battle.

Draco glance sideways at Hermione. She sipped her whiskey and set the glass down on the table. Then she turned to him. "Thank you again, Draco. I'm think I'm ok to return to my flat."

"Are you sure?" Draco leaned in to the back of his sofa.

He knew from personal experience that when your mind is trying to process too many emotions, mixed with memories both good and bad, (because he had a feeling that whatever had upset Hermione tonight had something to do with Ronald Weasley), it was never a safe idea to be alone. The emptiness around you only amplified the empty feeling inside.

"Maybe. I don't know." Hermione leaned forward, burying her face in her hands. The movement of her body caused her dress to shimmer and the skirt became a cascade of gold and silver as it shimmered and changed.

It was a beautiful representation of the woman encased in the silky material. But was diminished by her current disposition. One of pain, confusion and, if Draco wasn't mistaken, a sense of being lost.

"You can stay here tonight." Draco offered before he could stop himself. "If you don't think you can be alone."

Hermione shook her head before responding, and Draco thought she was saying no. His heart sank for a moment.

"I don't know. About being alone, I mean."

That wasn't an answer to his question.

"If you're unsure then you probably shouldn't be."

Hermione let out a breath. "I know you're right, Draco. But honestly…" She turned to him, "I think it's best if I go back to my flat."

She sat up and pushed off the couch. The movement once more made her dress shimmer and transition, though Hermione took no notice of it. Draco rose as well and walked with her to the fireplace. He grabbed a pinch of Floo powder and tossed it in for her.

"I know it's just downstairs, but be safe." Draco requested as he helped Hermione over the grate, into the emerald flames.

Hermione looked up at Draco in shock, taking in the sincere expression on his face. She leaned up and kissed his cheek, smiling against his warm skin. She was still smiling as she pulled away, still holding his hand. Draco looked down, taking in her palm pressed against his, before letting go. Hermione called out her flat one floor below and disappeared. Draco watched the empty fireplace where she had just stood. A moment later, scarlet flames burst up from the floor of the hearth, flashed, and were gone. She was home safe. He hadn't asked for the confirmation, but appreciated the respect of acknowledging his concern for her.

Draco returned to the sofa and picked up Hermione's half-finished glass. As he sat there, sipping on it, his mind wandered over the evening. He had been walking back from retrieving drinks when he noticed Hermione speaking to the Weasel (there was no mistaking that flaming hair). As Draco approached, a woman sidled up beside Weasley and took his arm. Draco hadn't wanted Hermione to know he was eavesdropping, and so hung back in the shadow of a column where he could still hear the conversation.

Lavender Brown giggled sickeningly. And then proceeded to throw her marriage, and pregnancy, in Hermione's face. The way she said it sounded like a dig at Hermione. He chanced a look past the column to see Hermione walking in his direction. Anger had risen in him when he saw how upset she was. But he buried it for the time being in the face of the breakdown that Hermione was clearly having. He walked her out as she had asked, arm tight around her back for support.

He had meant it when he offered for Hermione to stay the night. He would have gladly slept on the couch (although a part of him wouldn't have minded sharing his bed). There was no denying his attraction to the muggle-born witch. He had known for months now. And yet he only acted on it in his thoughts and dreams.

Draco shook his head to rid it of anything indecent before the images started. He rose back up from the sofa, leaving the glasses and bottle behind as he wandered off to bed.