Draco had spent the last three nights with Blaise at the Three Broomsticks. He regretted nothing, and seemed to even have forgotten who Pansy Parkinson was (which was caused by his excessive drinking), and found a new woman to lure into his manor every night. The issue at hand was that he was still the legal husband of Pansy, who could possibly be carrying his child.
"Draco, you're a mess." Blaise said, sitting on the stool next to him. "Maybe you should just go home."
"I'm fine." Draco slurred.
"Not by the sound of your voice," there was a genuine concern coming from Blaise's lips, "come on, take the night off. I'll help you home."
"Oh no you won't!" Draco protested and slapped away Blaise's hand, which had been reaching for Draco's arm to take him out of the bar. "I'm fine! Leave me be." Blaise took Draco's advice, ordered a final drink, and left without saying another word to the pale man, who sat alone at the bar.
"Hello, Draco." said a soft voice. Draco turned to his left and saw a slender pair of smooth legs. He gradually looked up and saw an unfamiliar face with brown hair and sharp blue eyes. She ordered a butter beer and turned back to Draco who had his head down on the bar table. She grinned.
"Haven't seen you in ages. What has it been, six years?"
"Who are you?" Draco said in annoyance.
"You don't remember me? Violet. Violet Coreman."
"I don't remember you."
"I was a year above you at Hogwarts. We were both in Slytherin, though I wouldn't expect you to remember me, you were so wrapped up with yourself." she took a sip of her butter beer. "And how are things going with you? Not well, by the looks of it."
"For your information," Draco said in defense of his atrocious state, "things are going extremely well for me."
"Ah ha." she raised her eyebrows and took another sip.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, nothing." she said sweetly, and took a rather large gulp from her drink this time.
"Why are you even talking to me?"
"You were sitting alone."
The conversation carried on like this for hours, until finally, the bartender (Madame Rosmerta), made the two leave. Draco mumbled curses under his breath while Violet calmly grabbed her handbag, paid Madame Rosmerta her money, and followed Draco out. The night was cold, and Violet had only but a light jacket to keep her remotely warm.
"Where are you staying?" Draco asked, reluctantly.
"No where, really. My husband just kicked me out. Said he needed time to think over our relationship. He's really seeing some other girl, don't know who she is, though. Been trying to find out these past few weeks."
"Would you like a home? Or just a place, for the night, anyway." Draco offered. If Violet had been any less attractive he probably wouldn't have offered.
"That would be nice."
"Draco, you're a mess." Blaise said, sitting on the stool next to him. "Maybe you should just go home."
"I'm fine." Draco slurred.
"Not by the sound of your voice," there was a genuine concern coming from Blaise's lips, "come on, take the night off. I'll help you home."
"Oh no you won't!" Draco protested and slapped away Blaise's hand, which had been reaching for Draco's arm to take him out of the bar. "I'm fine! Leave me be." Blaise took Draco's advice, ordered a final drink, and left without saying another word to the pale man, who sat alone at the bar.
"Hello, Draco." said a soft voice. Draco turned to his left and saw a slender pair of smooth legs. He gradually looked up and saw an unfamiliar face with brown hair and sharp blue eyes. She ordered a butter beer and turned back to Draco who had his head down on the bar table. She grinned.
"Haven't seen you in ages. What has it been, six years?"
"Who are you?" Draco said in annoyance.
"You don't remember me? Violet. Violet Coreman."
"I don't remember you."
"I was a year above you at Hogwarts. We were both in Slytherin, though I wouldn't expect you to remember me, you were so wrapped up with yourself." she took a sip of her butter beer. "And how are things going with you? Not well, by the looks of it."
"For your information," Draco said in defense of his atrocious state, "things are going extremely well for me."
"Ah ha." she raised her eyebrows and took another sip.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, nothing." she said sweetly, and took a rather large gulp from her drink this time.
"Why are you even talking to me?"
"You were sitting alone."
The conversation carried on like this for hours, until finally, the bartender (Madame Rosmerta), made the two leave. Draco mumbled curses under his breath while Violet calmly grabbed her handbag, paid Madame Rosmerta her money, and followed Draco out. The night was cold, and Violet had only but a light jacket to keep her remotely warm.
"Where are you staying?" Draco asked, reluctantly.
"No where, really. My husband just kicked me out. Said he needed time to think over our relationship. He's really seeing some other girl, don't know who she is, though. Been trying to find out these past few weeks."
"Would you like a home? Or just a place, for the night, anyway." Draco offered. If Violet had been any less attractive he probably wouldn't have offered.
"That would be nice."