A/N: Sorry for the delay! Here is chapter 4, hopefully it was worth the wait. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed!

KimbleDramione x

The next day, Blaise Zabini swung open the large door of his manor, staring in surprise at the sight that greeted him. His former best friend was slumped against the doorframe, swinging a bottle of Ogden's and looking like death warmed up. "Salazar's rod, Draco – what in Merlin's name happened to you?"

"She's gone," was the mumbled reply. "Gone. Up and fucking left when I was at work."

Blaise opened the door wider. "You'd better come in, mate," was his shell-shocked reply. "I'll ring for some snacks."

Draco staggered inside, looking around blearily. "Where's your missus?"

"She's in France for the week with her sister," he replied. Blaise was married to Astoria Greengrass. Draco had been surprised at the match, especially since he had been interested in her briefly during their Hogwarts days. "Don't worry, mate. It's just me and you."

Draco raised his bottle to his mouth and took a long drink, screwing up his eyes as the liquid blazed a fiery path down his throat. "I should have seen it coming, Blaise. I knew she was too fucking good for me…"

Blaise snatched the bottle away from him, earning a very dark look from Draco. "Oh for Merlin's sake. Shut up, Draco. Granger fell in love with you. Yes, she was Gryffindor's Princess and one of the Golden Trio, but you two are suited! She's not a Pureblooded trophy wife, she'd never be happy with the life of a socialite. She challenges you."

"I stopped challenging her," Draco whispered in response. "I stopped sharing things with her. I can't remember the last time we had a decent conversation."

Blaise led his drunken companion to the sitting room and gestured towards the large couch. "You need to be telling her this, mate, not me."

Draco sighed deeply and ran a hand over his face. "I know that, Blaise, but I know her well enough to know she won't speak to me. Not for a day or two. She wasn't at Potter's yesterday, I went there first. I don't know where she went. She could be in Australia with her parents for all I know."

Blaise sat down on the couch opposite him as he sank into the seat Blaise had offered. "Australia? Wow. I don't think she'd have done that, would she? Knowing Granger, she wouldn't just take off to Oz without letting her friends know. She's considerate to a fault." He looked down at the bottle in his hand and summoned some glasses from across the room, pouring three fingers for each of them and handing his friend one of the crystal tumblers. "You can't just swig Ogden's like dragon piss," he chastised. "Savour it, the way you're supposed to."

"I'm too depressed to savour anything right now, Blaise, for fuck's sake," grumbled Draco in response. "I need ideas, mate. How do I get her back?"

"You're asking me?" was Blaise's incredulous reply. "Draco, I've had exactly one long term relationship and I married her. It's not exactly the love story of the year. She liked me, I liked her, our parents approved of the match, so we got married. I'm hardly qualified to advise you in matters of the heart. Astoria often jokes I don't have one."

"You're suggesting that I treat this like an arranged marriage?" asked Draco, horrified. "I can't do that. She'd never go for it. Plus, I actually love her."

"You're suggesting I don't love Astoria?" mocked Blaise. "I do. I just… I guess the love developed after the wedding, as weird as that sounds."

"This is hopeless," complained Draco. "I don't know how to fix this, Blaise. I never saw it coming. It wasn't even like we had a massive fight. We just stopped communicating. That's so much harder to deal with."

"Sounds like you're gonna have to make her fall in love with you all over again," suggested Blaise. "It's not going to be easy, but look at it this way – you made her fall in love with you once. It shouldn't be so hard for you to do it again."

"I guess I could try it," said Draco, his tone doubtful. "But what if it doesn't work? What if she thinks I'm trying to butter her up?"

"You've got to be clever about it, mate," chuckled Blaise. "Get her in on the idea. Tell her that you want a specific period of time to try and work on your marriage. Negotiate. Then, at the end of that time period, if you can't make it work and she's still unhappy then tell her you'll divorce."

Draco shook his head stubbornly. "No way, Malfoys don't divorce."

"Then you'd best make sure that you do a good job in working on your marriage, hadn't you?" was Blaise's characteristically good-natured reply. "Look, Draco. You love her, right? That hasn't changed?"

"Of course it hasn't!" was the frustrated reply. "I wouldn't have married her if I didn't love her. My parents knew I'd never submit to an arranged marriage. And before you ask, no, I haven't cheated on her. The thought of being with another woman has never even crossed my mind." He laughed bitterly. "Although I'm not sure the same is true for her."

"There's no way she's cheated on you, mate," answered Blaise. "I work in the same place, remember? She never even takes lunch breaks, never mind goes out to do the nasty with some other wizard."

Draco sat up suddenly, his eyes lighting up. "I forgot you worked at Flourish & Blotts too!" he cried. "You can help me!"

Blaise shifted away from his suddenly animated friend, holding his hands up warily. "Whoa, slow down. How did I get involved in this?"

"It was your idea to make a deal with her," groused Draco. "You made yourself involved. I'm not asking for much, Zabini – just a little help. For example, I know damn well she's at the Potter place. She might not have been last night when I went there, but I'd bet the Ministry on the fact that she's there now. Could you just Floo them and ask if she's there?"

Blaise took a long drink of his whiskey. "Merlin, Morgana and Godric, you really want me to do this, don't you?" He smiled contentedly as the effects of the alcohol kicked in. "I'm not a Marriage Counsel-Wizard, just so you know."

"I'm not asking you to be a bloody miracle worker, just a friend," retorted Draco. "Yes, I know I've been a shitty friend to you recently –"

"That's an understatement."

Draco had the good sense to look remorseful. "I'm sorry, Blaise. I was so messed up after the war. The only person that could reach me was Hermione. I stopped speaking to pretty much everybody."

"I get it," reassured Blaise. "I know as a Slytherin I'm supposed to never let you forget it, and constantly remind you of how shitty a friend you are, and basically make you think I'm never going to forgive you – but what's the point? I was an arrogant prick through most of our school years, and it was a bitter pill to swallow joining the Order. Still, better that than joining the Death Eaters. When you said you wanted to avoid that happening, I knew you'd need someone to join up with you. So I swallowed my pride and I joined."

"I know, and I really appreciate it," said Draco, nodding. "I really do. I know I never said it, but I do. At risk of sounding really fucking mushy and Hufflepuff, I'm glad you were there with me."

"All right, all right… let's stop with that dragon dung before we sound like a pair of Hufflepuffs," laughed Blaise. "It's all forgiven and shit."

"So you'll help me contact Hermione?"

"I guess – but you owe me, mate. Big time." Blaise stood up and placed his glass down on the nearby end table. "You reckon she's at the Potter place?" Draco nodded and Blaise made his way over to the Floo. He got down on his knees and threw a handful of powder in, before putting his head in and calling out "Grimmauld Place!"

"Blaise Zabini, yours is the last head I would ever have imagined to see in my fireplace," came the voice of Ginny Potter. "What do you need?"

"I'm sorry to interrupt you at this late hour, Mrs Potter, but I need to get hold of Hermione. It's work-related. Is she at your place, by any chance?" Blaise's tone was calm and polite, and Draco shook his head in bewildered surprise.

"One second," was Ginny's reply, and moments later footsteps could be heard.

"Blaise?" came Hermione's voice. Draco felt his heart jump in his chest at the timbre of her words. "Why on earth would you be Flooing to speak to me?"

"Hermione, I'm hurt," responded Blaise. "I know you may not be on friendly terms with my wife, but surely as colleagues that doesn't affect our relationship?"

"I suppose not," she responded, her tone light-hearted. Suddenly, her voice changed, her tone hardening. "Tell me that this is actually to do with the bookstore, and not because my estranged husband put you up to this?"

"Well, now you mention it, Hermione, your husband is here. However, he didn't put me up to this at all… he's not even in the room right now. He has no idea I'm speaking to you," was Blaise's smooth (and untruthful) response. He gestured with his hand for Draco to keep quiet.

A deep sigh came from Hermione. "I'm sorry if he's bothering you, Blaise. If he doesn't know about this call, then what did you want to speak to me?"

"Give him a chance," beseeched Blaise. "At least meet with him. He's really broken up about all this, Hermione. He's been horribly mushy, and you know Slytherins don't know how to deal with that. It's much more a Gryffindor trait, as you know. All I ask is that you Floo over and just talk to him briefly. That's all. The boy is going out of his mind… it's pathetic, really."

"Is he really that upset?" asked Hermione, doubt resonating in her voice.

"Hermione, I am on my knees in front of my Floo at this ridiculous hour of the day. I have had to pull my best firewhiskey out to placate the poor man, and I spoke to Ginny, of all people, to get to talk to you. Now while I know I am an undeniably charming and pleasant man, I would not do this for the fun of it." He raised an eyebrow. "There have almost been tears, Hermione. Tears."

"All right, all right," she acquiesced. "But give me a few minutes, I need to do something first. I'll be with you in five minutes, okay? Are you at Zabini Manor?" Blaise acknowledged that yes, he was, and then ended the Floo call.

"Thank you so much, mate," was Draco's only utterance.

"Yeah, yeah. Now go make yourself look like you've been crying or something," was Blaise's retort. "Or at least go rough yourself up a little. Mind you, you look pretty bad already, but a little more couldn't hurt. Go and splash cold water on your cheeks and in your eyes. It works for Astoria all the time."

"Works for Astoria? And what was that insinuation about the Potterette?" questioned Draco, his interest piqued.

Blaise waved him away. "I'll tell you later. You need to get out of here before your wife arrives… now scoot. Skedaddle."

With that, Draco quickly left the room and made his way to a nearby bathroom. It was no big deal, he already needed to pee. Too much firewhiskey had taken its toll. He looked into the large gilded mirror and sighed. "Come on, you're a Malfoy," he scolded himself. "You can do this."