I needed a fucking drink.

I needed to wipe stupid Harry and his stupid hero hunt from my mind.

I Apparated to a well known wizarding night life spot in London. To my luck, it was heaving - which made sense given the colourful fairy lights draped around everywhere; everyone liked to get wasted at Christmas.

I had picked a particular popular looking place, hoping I could get lost in the sea of faces. I wasn't well known like Harry, but I still craved the anonymity of being in a crowd.

"What'll it be, love?" Grunted the grumpy looking barman, when I had eventually pushed my way through the crowd and reached the bar.

"Firewhisky," I shouted over the noise. "And make it a double."

I threw a couple of coins down, groaning when I realised that was all I had.

I decided that I'd have this drink and then Apparate back to the tent to let Harry apologise to me.

I knocked it back in one, embracing the feel of the burn as the dark liquid hit the back my throat and filled my veins with a wonderful numbing fire.

"Another?" Asked the barman as I slammed the empty glass back down on the bar.

"Sadly, that's all I can afford," I shrugged morosely, before turning to leave.

And then a soft, yet smoothly spoken voice, stopped me in my tracks.

"I'll buy you one, Weasley."

I whirled back round to the bar and shock, mixed with a feeling of horror filled me.

A tall, dark, slender boy leaned lazily against the bar; his handsome face offering me a smooth smile as black, slanting eyes twinkled amusedly at my expression.

"Blaise? Blaise Zabini?" I uttered, my mouth hanging open as I stared at Draco's fellow Slytherin friend. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you," he chuckled, "aren't you supposed to be dying at home from spattergroit?"

"Guess not," I shrugged, the large firewhisky I had suddenly causing me to not care, but instead, appreciate just how fucking gorgeous this boy was in front of me. "I fancied a drink. So here I am."

"Well, I'm certainly not complaining." He said silkily, as his eyes slowly roamed up and down my body. "I've got a private table if you wanted to join? Could do with the company, got stood up by my mates."

"Sure," I nodded, thinking why the fuck not. If someone this fit was offering to buy me a drink, then I was game. This could be exactly the sort of distraction I needed to get my mind off of my shitty life.

And so, the next thing I know, I'm sitting in a private booth opposite Blaise Zabini, sharing a bottle of firewhisky.

"So how come you're not off galavanting with the great Chosen One, then?" Blaise asked, cocking an eyebrow as he took a deep sip from his glass. "I thought you two were joined at the hip?"

I scoffed loudly, smacking my hand down angrily on the table.

"Fuck him. Let him go save the fucking world by himself, I say." I snarled, gripping my fingers fiercely around my drink before knocking it back. "Who wants to be a fucking hero, anyway?"

"You know, you're a pretty cool chick," Blaise said smoothly, topping up our glasses. "I'm surprised you ever wasted your time with Potter, at all. You seem far too Slytherin for the likes of him."

"That's not the first time someone's said that to me," I said morosely, feeling the familiar ache in my heart at the memory of him.

Blaise leant back in his bench, his eyes studying me curiously.

"What's up, Weasley? You look like one sad girl to me. Surely Potter's not the cause?"

"Pah! Fuck no!" I laughed bitterly. "That twat can go join Dumbledore and take a flying leap off the Astronomy Tower for all I care."

Blaise eyes widened slightly before given an impressed chortle.

"Wow, being Potter's sidekick has sure made you savage, huh?"

"Don't you fucking call me that!" I spat, going to stand up, the anger reigniting in my belly. Nobody calls me a sidekick!

Long dark fingers snapped up and clasped around my lower arm, halting me mid-rise. I looked down as eyes fixed intently on mine, and I saw something flash in those hypnotising swirling black pools.

"Stay, Weasley," he growled. "Stay with me and let me show you how to forget all your troubles."

He surreptitiously reached a hand into his pocket before removing it again. Holding his upturned fist out in front of me, he slowly unfurled his fingers, revealing a small transparent bag which appeared to be filled with a white, glittery powder.

"What's that?" I asked, my heart thudding as I had a sneaking suspicion I knew what.

"This," he said, grinning wickedly up at me, "is what they call wizard powder. Just one sniff and it'll instantly help you kick back and forget your troubles."

"Drugs?" I said, stating the obvious.

"I'd prefer to call it magic." Blaise said, his eyes drawing me in as they remained fixed upon mine, his voice smooth and inviting like velvet. "We could have fun, you and me. I'll take you to places that will blow your mind and have you begging for more. You'll never want to go back to being Potter's sidekick. All you have to do is say yes."

I licked my lips apprehensively, my eyes darting back and forth between him and the little bag of powder. I was sorely tempted to leave all this hurt and anger behind.

"So, what do you say, Weasley?" Blaise pressed, his fingers, that had been gripping my arm, now slackened and moved downwards to take my hand in his. "Fancy taking a wild ride with me? I promise you, you won't regret it."

I thought of Draco, the boy I gave my fucking heart to - turning his back on my admission of love.

I thought of Harry, my supposed best friend - telling Hermione to let me go.

And I made my decision.

"Why the fuck not?" I smiled down at my new saviour, gripping his hand as butterflies took flight in my stomach.

I was in.

*****