A Post Hogwarts Affair, Chapter 6

I waited quite patiently for Ron to come home, my curiosity burning more and more every second. It was pointless trying to stay awake—what good would that do me—so I finally crawled into bed and hoped that my dreams were interesting.

'Interesting' was mildly putting it. I dreamt dream after dream about Draco Malfoy—our lives together, going out with him, making love to him, and…having children with him.

I woke up in a cold sweat. I didn't want kids; I'd never wanted kids. They guzzled your money and kept you from getting a very good career. It wasn't to say I didn't enjoy little children—they were very cute and I didn't mind babysitting for two hours, but that was my limit. But here I had just dreamed about having children with that stupid git! What would my fifteen-year-old self say? I'd always hated him, and I was married to my best friend, and I'd rather have babies with Draco Malfoy?

But the children had been adorable, with wavy blonde hair and chocolate colored eyes and…teeth in need of dentistry.

I rolled over and checked my watch. It was seven a.m., definitely time for me to be up. The day was Saturday, thank Merlin I didn't have to go to work and fantasize about Draco while he was living it up with some bimbo.

Why was he doing this to me?

I quickly showered and ate and by the time I was done it was eight. I looked at my clock impatiently and waited. Ron still wasn't home!

On impulse, I decided to call up Harry. He knew about everything, and obviously Draco wasn't interested in me otherwise he would have made some move by this point, and maybe Harry could help me get over my sudden infatuation.

But I kind of liked it. It was fun to actually hear my heart triple beat when I saw him, or even increase slightly when I thought of him. And the thought of kissing him made me want to melt.

Then again, none of my fantasies were going to come true at this rate.

Before I could contemplate anything further, the door creaked open and a very frazzled looking Ron walked in.

"Hey, you," I greeted him as he entered.

He yawned. "Later, Hermione…let's go out tonight, yeah? But right now I need to sleep…"

While he turned around, I whipped out my wand and made sure that his memories were transferred to mine. But before I could delve into them, his words registered in my mind. Let's go out tonight? What had gotten into him? We never went out! Maybe something interesting had happened.

Without further ado, I tuned in.

Ron had just exited the house. He apparated to the team's Quidditch field where he met up with some friends of his. The three of them then walked to a nearby club and ordered three shots of whiskey. The club was overcrowded, and people were becoming very rowdy.

I scowled. It was exactly the type of scenario I didn't like. I hated rowdy parties, the kind that gave me a headache, and I hated when there weren't any sober people for miles. But here Ron was in such a state.

Ron became drunk very quickly, and soon he was laughing pointlessly at everything. A young woman walked by and Ron and his friends hooted appreciatively. The woman turned towards the three of them and giggled. She pulled one of Ron's friends to the dance floor and the two were lost among the sweaty bodies. Ron and his remaining friend ordered some more drinks. Ron had had about three glasses of fire whiskey when another woman walked up to them and lead Ron's other friend away. Ron sat by himself in the bar and struck a conversation with the bar tender. "Hey, babe," he drawled to the female bar tender.

"Why, hello, there," she said, smiling. "Want any more drinks?"

Ron began laughing hysterically. "Yeah, gimme a shotta vodka!"

The bar tender poured him a shot and Ron gulped it quickly. Then suddenly he stood up and left the bar. He walked out into the cool air and screamed to the empty streets, "It was too hot in there!" and then…

I almost stopped watching; my aversion was so great. Ron needed help. He could not continue to drown himself in alcohol! I tried not to think about the memory I had just seen--Ron wouldn't remember it because he had been drunk at the time, but it still stayed somewhere in his mind, and I'd seen it. My husband, Ron Weasley, had grabbed a couple of people from the bar and started streaking through the empty streets, yelling, "I'm a married man, boys! I'm a married man, boys!" at the top of his lungs.

If he kept that up he wasn't going to be married for long.

I was oddly relieved to find out there weren't any permanent women in Ron's life…but I knew that if this was the extent to which he drank, he probably had plenty of one-night-stands that he didn't even remember.

But enough of it! I didn't know how to help Ron, but he needed the help.

I decided to walk down to one of my favorite wizard pubs for some fresh air and to get my mind off some very disturbing things. When I got there, I ordered a butter beer and sat down in a corner, trying to sort out my thoughts and think of the best way to help Ron over his alcohol addiction.

Or maybe he liked getting drunk. Maybe he did remember it all; maybe he wanted to live life immaturely. Gods. If that was the case, he was in even deeper trouble than I thought.

As I was brooding over my thoughts, I heard a very familiar drawl ordering a drink. I looked up and my brain registered, "Draco Malfoy's profile! Draco Malfoy's profile!" He looked absolutely stunning, with blonde hair hanging down and a small smile playing on his lips…wait. What the hell was he doing in town?

He was out on a pleasure trip, wasn't he, so why was he in a small pub in London, all alone and ordering (I strained to hear his order) butter beer?

The conniving little devil! Why had Meredith told me he was out of town, just yesterday? And she had given the impression he wouldn't be back for a very long time.

"Oy, Malfoy!" I called out before I could stop myself. He turned around, surprised.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his expression narrowed.

"I could ask you the same thing," I replied. "I thought you were touring the Bahamas."

His scowl deepened.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said, motioning to the seat next to me, "Do have a seat."

After what seemed the longest pause, he sat down next to me and drank a sip of butter beer. He seemed deep in thought, and I took the opportunity to study him. It was hard to believe I really hadn't noticed it before. He was quite good-looking; he'd improved drastically since the days at Hogwarts. He was no longer skinny, although he was still incredibly pale. But I liked it all.

"So, how long do you plan on staring at my stunningly sexy looks?" he asked casually.

I was mortified. Letting out a small squeak, I turned away, bright red, and muttered, "What makes you think I was staring?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it was your intense gaze upon my handsome face?"

I turned, if possible, an even darker shade of red. "Not true. Anyway, why aren't you out of town like you said you were?"

"I was out of town."

"No, you weren't."

"I just got back about an hour ago."

"Liar!" I could not believe him, his small grin was enough to give him away. Which was actually very unusual--he usually hid his emotions very well.

"Really," he said. "I was. I was in France with Marie, my latest…well, ex-girlfriend now."

I sneered. "How long did you do her…I mean, go out with her?" I asked innocently.

He laughed, and my heart began to beat even faster. "Four days," he replied nonchalantly. "She was quite happy that I'd given her the time of day. In fact, four days is a long time for me to spend with a girl."

My face must have considerably fallen, but I tried to be stoical about it. "Okay, fine," I sighed. "You were in France with Marie and now you're back. But somehow your story isn't credible."

"Why do you care so much, Granger?"

I flinched. He still thought of me as Granger…and yet the other day, he'd leaned in like he was going to kiss me, he'd apologized to me, heck he'd even called me Hermione! What had I done?

"I do not," I said, trying to pretend as if I really didn't.

Before we could speak anymore, someone cleared her throat behind Draco. He turned around, and the girl handed him a stack of papers.

"The reports you wanted on a Ronald Weasley, Mr. Malfoy," she said.

A/N: A special shout-out to beachLEMON…yeah. You guessed right about Draco. Thanks to everyone that didn't give me a one-line review! I love you! I'm sorry, guys, but it's a cliffy! Well I got you some promised D/Hr interaction but I might not update for a LONG time if I don't get any reviews! So what are you waiting for? You know the drill! Review!