Draco was just about to go after her when a hand yanked furiously at his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

"Drakie - what the hell is going on?!" Pansy screeched.

Irritated, Draco shrugged her off. He'd had about enough of this god awful woman. Why his parents had always insisted on their friendship with the Parkinson's simply baffled him. And now, because of her, Etta had gone.

No. Because of him.

As much as it killed him to admit it, Blaise had been right. He had treated Etta appallingly tonight. And she hadn't deserved that. He just found it difficult not to revert to his old ways whenever he was around Pansy.

"It's Draco, Pansy, my name is Draco," he thundered down at her.

Pansy flinched as if he'd just hit her. But Draco didn't care. He was anxious to get to Etta before she did anything stupid like use public transport.

He started back towards the front door, with Pansy screeching behind him.

"You're not seriously going after that wench, are you?!"

Draco halted and span furiously around, his eyes piercing fiercely into Pansy's. "She is not a wench!" His voice was filled with such cold fury. "And she is, and always will be a million times the witch you ever were!"

Finally reaching the door, Draco flung it open, slamming it behind him loudly as he flew out into the cold night air, determined to get to his Gryffindor.

***

Draco was right, I probably had had too much to drink to Apparate. And it wouldn't be a good look for the head Auror to go and drunkenly Splinch herself.

So, Knight Bus it was, then.

It had been a while since I'd used it. Fucking years in fact. I remembered when I first boarded it on the night that I had blown up my dear old Aunt Marge. That taught her to call my mother a bitch.

Shivering by the remote country road, I pulled my wand out from down the side of my dress and held it out. It trembled wildly in my hand from the cold.

Why the fuck had I not thought to wear a coat? It was god damn winter for heaven's sake!

Bang!

And here it was. A great big purple eye sore. Gingerly, I looked up, half expecting to be greeted by Stan Shunpike - but of course he was dead.

"Blimey! Ain't you cold, miss?!"

I shivered up at the young man (who could so easily have been Stan's son) standing in the bus's doorway, my teeth chattering together.

"N-n-nah! I-I'm t-toasty!"

"Ah I see, bit o' a comedian, are we?" He grinned, revealing a pair of yellowed crooked teeth. Nice.

"Something like that," I muttered under my breath, stepping up onto the bus to join him.

"Where too then, miss?"

I gave him my address, and suddenly yearned to be back home. I was too old to be out having spats with Draco as though we were still in school.

"It's going to take a while, I'm afraid, miss. It's a busy night and we're almost full. So, I recommend you pay up for a bed and a hot chocolate to warm ya cockles."

"Fine, whatever." I grumbled, as the door shut behind me. But I realised too late that I had no sodding money.

We had already zoomed off, and I held onto a nearby pole for dear life as I tried to guiltily explain my predicament to the young man before me.

"No money, miss?" he said narrowing his eyes at me, "why'd you call the Knight Bus then?"

"I was desperate!" I cried, nearly toppling to the floor as we rounded a corner. "And this dress isn't designed to carry bags of coins!"

"You 'ear that Ern?" He called over to the driver. "This lady says she ain't got no money."

The bus suddenly shuddered to a violent stop. Losing my grip, I went flying, catching my forehead nastily on the corner of a nearby chair before landing in a heap to the floor, my dress all tangled up in a mess around me.

I clutched my hand to my forehead, ready to scream in frustration. I was drunk, cold, and tired and just wanted more than anything to be home.

But sadly, it looked as though I was about to get thrown off, and as hands grabbed at my arms, I furiously turned to yell at the fucker manhandling me.

"Potter, this really is not a good look for you."

Grey eyes flashed in mine and their expression quickly changed from one of amusement to one of deep concern. Evidently, I looked a fucking mess.

"Draco," I whispered, and through all my exhaustion of the emotion of the night, I began to sob.

Crouching down beside me on the floor of the bus, he immediately gathered me into his arms, cradling me against his chest. I immediately felt the tension leave my body as I relaxed against him, his steady heartbeat calming me in a way I did not realise I needed calming.

"Etta, I'm so sorry," he murmured, nuzzling his face into my hair as I sobbed harder. "I'm such a shit. Please forgive me."

"Y-you're a c-cunt," I stammered into his chest. And yet, I clung tightly onto him, bunching his shirt up beneath my fingers, suddenly terrified of letting him go.

I was so fucking mad at him, but at the same time I was so fucking relieved he was here with me. He was making me an emotional wreck.

"I know, Etta," he whispered fiercely, holding me tighter to him, "and I'm sorry, I really am."

"She ain't got no money,"

Draco stiffened, and without even looking up I could just picture the murderous expression upon his face.

"Can't you see she's hurt?!" he spat, "how about helping her out instead of just leaving her lying there while you collect your next fare!"

"As, I said, she ain't paid so she's gotta get back off, and this is where we picked 'er up."

I realised now that they must have taken me straight back to Pansy's upon learning I had no money, only to discover Draco on the side of the road. He had followed me after all.

Draco pulled out a bag of coins from his jacket pocket, irritably tossing it at the conductor's feet.

"Just take us back home, you cretin," he sneered, helping me to my feet.

Draco immediately led me to the back of the bus in search of a vacant bed, trying to hold me steady as the bus lurched and jostled violently in its speed to get around the country.

"What did I tell you about this god forsaken bus," Draco muttered disgustedly as he prevented me from falling on top of a sleeping wizard covered from head to toe in rotten smelling bandages. "You could catch anything on here."

He sat me down on the edge of a bed containing a very lumpy mattress. And, crouching down in front of me, his concerned grey eyes inspected the gash on my forehead as he tilted my face up towards the light.

"Damn, Potter," he murmured, his brow creasing into a frown. "Is one scar not enough for you?"

I gave a half-hearted smirk as he lifted his wand and began to mutter a healing spell, knitting the wound on my forehead back together. I found the incantation oddly soothing as strange words fell softly from his lips, sounding almost like a song.

When he finished, he clasped the back of my head and pressed cool lips against the healed wound. I closed my eyes as a blissful feeling washed over me; I suddenly wanted to stay like this forever.

"Fuck, you're shivering," Draco muttered, instantly moving to shrug his jacket off, draping it around my shoulders.

I wanted to say thank you, but I still felt too angry.

"Etta, I'm so sorry," he implored, evidently sensing my continued animosity, "the way I treated you tonight was appalling."

"You made me feel as though I was nothing to you but an embarrassment," I muttered bitterly, the hurt and humiliation resurfacing at the way he had cruelly dismissed me in front of Pansy.

Draco swallowed, looking pained. "There's no excuse, I'm sorry. Blaise was right, you deserve better."

"And was the other thing Blaise said true?" I asked, my heart twisting. "That you fathered Pansy's daughter?"

Draco froze, a look of horror and indignation flitting across his face. "God, no! Etta, believe me that's not true. Unless she somehow stole my sperm without my knowledge, it's not even a physical possibility."

Well, I wouldn't have put it past her.

"I know I have given you every reason to believe otherwise," Draco continued, ignoring my raised eyebrows, "but despite my marriage, there was only ever really you. You do know that don't you, Etta?"

I closed my eyes, wanting to believe it so much. But I couldn't answer him.

"I'm tired," I said, instead. And I really was. I was fucking exhausted by Draco and the emotional drama he had been putting me through all these years.

Without waiting for his response, I tucked my legs up onto the bed and, turning away from him, curled myself into a foetal position. I heard him expel a heavy sigh before he sat down behind me, the mattress lifting gently beneath his weight.

A hand reached over, clasping my own in his. I was too drained to pull away, too sodding exhausted to tell him to fuck off.

And, of course, I didn't want him to, not really.

He whispered in my ear, ′I love you, Potter', but I was too busy snoring to hear him.

*****