Author's Notes: This chapter is dedicated to Aurinko, whose fanfiction writing and thoughtful intellect has been an inspiration for quite some time. Thanks for introducing me to this site, among other things. fallenwitch

Chapter 2

His Alcoholically Annihilated Memory

He woke up a little before noon dying again. It was a struggle to open his eyes. The putrid mid-day sun was searing his silver greys. He debated the merits of not getting up at all. What difference did it make? It made no goddamn difference at all. So, he lay there, attempting to calm the pulsing pounding inside his skull, sloshing what was left of his brain back and forth.

Where the hell was it? He reached for his wand on the bedside table and miraculously produced a summoning charm, beckoning his vial of anti-hangover potion. This was a hangover, was it not? Lady, he hoped so because if it wasn't, he was royally screwed, and he had no potion for that particular affliction. With one swift gulp, he downed the bitter tasting liquid and felt it scorching and searing its way down to the pit of his stomach. Then he fell back in bed and closed his eyes. Some minutes later, the pounding and the aching pain blissfully relented. All was quiet on the Slytherin's front lines.

He sat up, sighed, and headed for the bathroom. When he emerged, dripping wet with a towel thrown around his waist, he flung open his bedroom door and headed for the kitchen. Seconds later he was gulping down a large cup of ice water. He was so dehydrated from all that Muggle alcohol it was a wonder he hadn't blown away in the night.

"Draco?"

He startled and swung around. When he saw her, the water going down his throat reversed course and landed in his windpipe. Not only did he start coughing and choking, but he also dropped his cup, which landed with a shattering holler.

"Merlin, Draco. Are you alright?" After casting a quick "Reparo", the witch crossed the kitchen and started pounding the Slytherin on his back.

He held out one hand to stop the beating. It took him awhile, but he finally regained control of his breathing and his voice. "Ginny? What are you doing here?" She casually put the cup back on the kitchen counter.

"You brought me here."

"I did?"

"Yes, you did. Last night." She waited while he searched his vacant memory for an inkling of the previous evening. When he came up predictably empty, he looked at her.

"Did I do anything else?"

"Yes, but I think we should continue this conversation after you're dressed." The Slytherin looked down and nodded before brushing past the witch and into the security of his bedroom.

Shit. Shit. Shit. And more shit. The Slytherin began pilfering his room for clothes as he cursed his alcoholically annihilated memory for being a worthless piece of garbage. Praying that he hadn't kidnapped the witch, he threw on his shirt and began buttoning in haste. He hadn't attempted to seduce her, had he? The miserable wizard pulled on his robes. What if he, heaven forbid, uttered completely inappropriate comments of questionable emotional content? He shoved his boots on and groaned.

Well, she hadn't hexed him on sight, and that was saying something with a witch like Ginny. If he had done anything inappropriate, she would have had her wand out in a nanosecond. He noted no hex marks in the shower that morning. Of course, he really didn't check for those marks seeing as he had no idea he was at risk for such a thing.

When the Slytherin dragged his sorry arse out of the bedroom, she was sitting on a chair in front of the cold fireplace waiting for him. Her wand, he noted gratefully, was nowhere in sight. He ran one anxious hand over his face before sitting down in the chair opposite hers.

"Well, Ginny, what's the damage?" She smiled and shook her head. He raised an eyebrow at this. "No damage?"

"No, no damage." Could she hear the relief flooding every magical cell in his body?

"Why don't you tell me what happened last night."

"Alright." The witch from Gryffindor recounted the events of the previous evening. Well, almost all the events. She conveniently left out the part where he kissed her and fell asleep with his arms in firm possession of her. She did include levitating him to his room so she could take the sofa. "That's it." The Slytherin nodded and studied her face.

"You should have taken the bed." She shook her head.

"No. It's your bed. Besides, I know how much you hate the early morning sun." She gestured at the mid-day light streaming into every nook and cranny of the room.

He fell silent at this.

"I had no idea you were living in London," she said. His silver greys looked up, and he stared at her before changing the subject.

"Care for some breakfast or lunch?"

"No, thanks. I should be going."

"Of course." The Slytherin stood, withdrew his wand, and took down his wards for her.

Ginny lingered a moment or two, waiting for some sign from the Slytherin. There was none. He made no movement toward her. She sighed, threw her arms around him, and kissed his remarkably soft cheek. He did little more than brush her back with his steadying hands.

"It was good to see you again."

"Take care, Ginny."

The witch took one last look at the Slytherin before Disapparating. He stood there, long after she had vanished, staring at the place that no longer held his former vision of red silk and freckles. Then he collapsed onto the sofa and hung his head in his hands.

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He didn't find it until the early morning hours when he was crawling into bed. It was dark. He was exhausted, and the cool sheets were welcoming to his overheated body. He rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling in his miserable torture chamber before reaching over and grabbing her picture with one familiar movement.

That's when he heard something flutter to the floor. He reached for his wand. "Lumos." Hanging off the bed, he picked up the parchment. By the single brilliant light of his wand, he read the note written in her handwriting. It contained only her address. Nothing more.

The Slytherin stared at that piece of parchment for several long moments. Then with one simple "Incendio", it was gone. He put back her picture, cast off his light, pulled up the covers, and closed his eyes.

Author's Note: Hope to see you at my next chapter. A big thanks to everyone who left such kind reviews!