It was Friday. Night. Four days since the dinner. Four very long, dark days.

He was sitting. Drinking. It was a Muggle bar, so there was not much of a chance of anyone seeing him here. Not that it would make any difference at all. Who cared, anyway?

No one. He was alone. And probably pretty close to falling-on-the-floor drunk. Given the fact that he hadn't left his place at the bar in several hours, he had no idea if he could walk, or even stand. He didn't care.

The problem was, the sodding liquor wasn't doing its damn job. He could still remember everything. Far too clearly.

Suddenly, he was aware of someone taking the seat next to him at the bar. A familiar, painful scent accosted his senses, and for a moment, he couldn't breathe. He stopped his wild train of thinking harshly; there was no way she was here.

A sideways glance confirmed this. The girl who had settled in next to him merely shared the same preferences as her when it came to perfume. That was all.

He sighed heavily. How unfortunate. It would never do to remain sitting here, while Hermione's scent wafted over him in waves and made it impossible to forget.

The girl peered up at him from behind the curtain of her long, dark hair.

"Are you okay?" she asked tentatively. Draco laughed humorlessly.

"Actually, no. I was just thinking about how I'm going to have to move now, but I'm not quite sure if I can walk to do it." His speech was clear and even, he noticed with surprise. Perhaps he hadn't drunk as much as he'd originally thought.

"Why do you have to move?" the girl asked with a bell-like laugh, turning now so she was facing him. A year and a half ago, Draco would have thought her very pretty, with her pale skin contrasting with her almost-black hair and dark eyes.

Now, he could barely see her at all. Truth be told, he never gave a passing glance to any other girl these days. The only one he ever saw clearly was the only one that mattered, but he couldn't bear to think of her now.

He suddenly realized that it was his turn to speak.

"Your perfume."

The girl looked shocked. "What's wrong with it?" she asked defensively.

Draco shook his head and tried to smile. "Nothing, nothing. I didn't mean to offend you. It just reminds me of someone I know."

"Someone you came here to not think about?" she said slowly, realization washing over her face. She smiled in an understanding sort of way.

Draco nodded. There was silence for a minute.

"Since you can't walk, would you like for me to move?" she finally asked quietly.

It surprised Draco that he was able to laugh - a real laugh - in response to this.

"No, it might do me some good to have a bit of conversation with someone other than the voices in my head," he replied. The girl laughed, too. It was a comfortable feeling, given the circumstances.

"Hearing voices is never a good sign…maybe you're going mad," she added helpfully.

Draco chuckled. "Maybe they should cart me off to St. Mungo's after all," he answered without thinking. Then his eyes flashed quickly up to the girl, whose dark eyes betrayed no confusion or suspicion; maybe she simply thought he was from out of town, or really out of his mind. He'd forgotten he'd been talking to a Muggle.

"I won't tell if you don't," she with a wink, turning to the bartender and placing her order. Then she turned back to face Draco again. "So, I haven't seen you in here before. New in town?"

"You could say that." This part of town, anyway.

She smiled. "My name is Mandy."

"Draco."

"Nice to meet you, Draco," she said, not looking at all surprised at his unusual name. She held out her hand; he shook it formally, and they both laughed again.

"So what brings you into our quaint little Muggle bar, Draco?"

He shrugged. "This is simply where I ended up." Then he thought for a second. What had she said?

"Don't look so surprised," she replied with a laugh. "You can pick your chin up off the bar now," she added in a low voice, grinning at him. Draco shut his mouth, which must have fallen open at the shock of hearing this random stranger say a word she shouldn't have even known existed.

"You obviously don't remember me at all…it has been a while, I'll admit. I wasn't even sure it was you at first; I had to make sure," here she paused and laughed her bell-like laugh again.

Draco's mind was racing. He tried to get a good look at the girl through the haze of alcohol, racking his brain for why she should look familiar in any way.

"But then, I was two years under you at school, and in Ravenclaw at that! Of course you wouldn't have known I existed," she went on. Well, that made sense. Sort of. He decided it wasn't worth trying to force his murky brain to remember her. It didn't matter after all, really.

"I apologize for not recognizing you; I would think your face would be impossible to forget," he added without thinking. It was true, the girl was strikingly beautiful, now that he'd had a proper look at her. He should have remembered that face.

The girl giggled and blushed prettily, waving a hand at him to stop.

"I've never been good at taking compliments," she explained. "So. You never really answered my question. What are you doing here?"

"Trying to drink myself into an unthinking stupor."

"Well, you're well on your way." Her drink arrived at just that moment, and she held it up in a salute. "To getting shitfaced," she said, and drained it in one gulp. Draco copied her.

"You too?" he asked after the liquor had burned its way down his throat. She nodded, flagging down the bartender again.

"Keep 'em coming," she said to the girl behind the bar. Then she turned back to Draco. "My latest mistake. He cheated on me with his cleaning lady…bastard," she muttered darkly, then brightened slightly, lifting her dark eyes to Draco. "Who are you trying to forget? Tell me all about it - the only thing that will make me feel better just now is hearing that your story is worse than mine."

Draco's eyes widened. "You honestly don't know?" At her blank expression, he shook his head. "Have you been living under a rock or something?" He'd thought everyone knew about his and Hermione's rather public break-up; it had been front-page news in the Daily Prophet.

"Actually, I've been out of the country," the girl replied in an amused tone. She looked like she was trying not to laugh. Draco chuckled.

"Sorry. I forget, sometimes, that not everyone is obsessed with my personal life," he said wryly. The girl did laugh this time.

"Well, go on. I can tell this is going to be good."

Draco sighed. He might as well forget trying to forget tonight. He settled in and began at the very beginning - with the contract and fake engagement - and led all the way up to the very end - when she finally left him sitting alone in the restaurant. The girl listened attentively, laughing and gasping in all the right places, and even crying at the end.

"It's so sad," she said finally, when Draco had finished at last. "I can't believe it's over. I think it will all work out eventually, though," she said hopefully. "And if it doesn't, well, maybe she's right after all, and you weren't meant to be."

"You believe that nonsense?" he asked her incredulously.

She considered that for a moment. "I'm not so sure it's nonsense. Fate is a powerful thing. It brought you together in the first place, didn't it? Maybe it was just time to move on. Or maybe this is all going to make you stronger as a couple one day."

"Or maybe it's all a load of tripe and she's just being stubborn, as usual," Draco added with a scowl. The girl laughed.

"Or maybe it's a load of tripe. But either way, our drinks aren't coming nearly fast enough for my taste - bartender!"

The girl behind the bar instantly reappeared with two fresh drinks for them. Draco took his gladly and downed it quickly, watching his new acquaintance do the same.

He suddenly became aware of how late it had become as the alcohol burned its way through his system. A quick glance around told him they were practically alone in the small pub; it was probably early morning by now, and most of the other occupants had drifted out in the past few hours.

The second thing that he noticed was how extremely drunk he was all of a sudden. The liquor was catching up to him in a rush, and he felt dizzy. He rested his head in his hands and was vaguely aware of the girl next to him asking if he was all right.

He tried to answer, but could only manage a weak nod.

Then everything went black, and he remembered no more.

Hermione woke up Saturday morning with her mind set. It was time to be a grown-up about this. She couldn't avoid this forever; it needed to be done.

She twisted the ring on her left hand nervously. She hadn't taken it off, and that worried her a little. It wasn't as if she couldn't, though; after all, this ring was not cursed to stay on her finger till death do us part.

Been there, done that.

No, she just hadn't taken it off yet. She would, though, and today was the day. She was going to return it.

She thought about Floo-ing directly to Draco's flat and leaving the ring on the table for him to find, disappearing before he could see her. But that was the cowardly way out, and she was nothing if not Gryffindor through and through. Even Grandmother Malfoy had said so.

So she went to her writing desk and penned a quick note to Draco, letting him know she was coming over in a few minutes' time. She sent it with her owl and waited until she was sure it had been long enough for him to get it.

Then she stepped into the emerald flames and held her breath for a different reason than to avoid getting ashes in her mouth.

Seconds later, she spun into Draco's grate, careful not to get ashes on the rug as she stepped out and into his living room.

It felt like years since she'd been here, instead of weeks. She glanced around, expecting to see Draco coming around the corner or appearing in the kitchen doorway. He didn't.

Her eyebrows drew together. Perhaps he wasn't here after all. She decided to check and see if he was in the shower or something and didn't realize she was there. Maybe he hadn't received her message.

She walked down the hall, listening to see if she could hear the shower running. His bedroom door was open a crack.

A familiar snore drifted through the open door and down the hallway to where she was standing. She fought the urge to smile. He's still asleep.

Another sound caught her attention just then, and she took another step closer to investigate. Something's not right, she thought, suddenly panicky, though she couldn't understand why.

She tiptoed closer and pushed the door open. What she saw nearly made her faint dead away on the spot.

Draco wasn't alone.

A/N: Sorry for the ridiculously long period of time I've gone without updating ANYTHING. I've been battling with some personal issues...depression, an eating disorder, that sort of thing...and I pretty much forgot who I was for about six months there, give or take. I'm feeling much more like myself again, and I'd like to finish this story, and definitely get back into fanfiction. I had forgotten how much I love it.

I can tell you that there are at least three chapters after this one that I've already written, and I'm hoping that I write more in the next few days...the writing bug has bitten again, and the plot bunnies are beginning to emerge from their burrows. So, if there's anyone still reading this poor, forgotten story, please let me know you're out there. It would do my heart a world of good, believe me. And feel free to bug me, if you like, into continuing to write. Long days, pleasant nights to you all.