Ugh. This was a nightmare. Everything was so green. I realised that I stuck out like a sore thumb in my red dress.

Good.

"Drakie!" I shuddered at the sound of the familiar screech. It was like listening to someone scraping their fingernails down a chalkboard.

A dark haired woman in an ugly green dress threw herself at Draco, planting a huge smacker right on his lips.

The bitch. Doesn't she know he's recently widowed?

"It's been soooo long, darling!" She gushed, after finally releasing her lips from his. "It's just dreadful about poor darling Astoria. I know Daphne's been simply beside herself with grief, so I can't imagine what horrors you have been going through."

Draco looked awkward. Very awkward. His eyes darted to me, not unnoticed by Pansy who didn't bother to hide her revulsion as she suddenly realised I was stood there.

"You?!" she spat, looking me up and down with complete disdain. No doubt the red offended her. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm Draco's plus one," I beamed, linking my arm in his, which he was quick to shrug off at Pansy's horrified reaction.

"As a friend," he chuckled nervously, taking a small step away from me.

What a fucking prick.

"You are friends with Potter?" Pansy cried incredulously, glaring at him.

She wasn't the only one glaring.

Draco tugged nervously at his collar, his eyes darting between Pansy and I as we both waited furiously for his explanation. "Well, I- uh, she has shown a lot of support for my son, seeing as her own son is friends with him. And this is just- ah- um... a thank you for looking after him."

"Oh yes," Pansy sneered, turning to me, her voice now dangerously silky soft, "I heard you had a son who ended up in Slytherin. That must really smart, having a son on the dark side."

"There is nothing dark about my son, Parkinson," I snarled, narrowing my eyes at her, "just because the likes of you gave Slytherin a bad name, doesn't mean they're all like that."

"Now, now, Potter," Pansy smiled evilly, "play nice or I'll have you removed, and I'm sure you wouldn't want to let down your new friend, would you?"

She glanced back at Draco, smiling sweetly, "Do help yourself to a drink, Drakie dear, I must go and mingle. We'll chat later, there's simply so much to catch up on, it seems."

Her gleaming eyes once again roamed over me, her eyebrows raised so high they almost hit the ceiling.

"I didn't even want to fucking come here tonight!" I hissed furiously in Draco's ear as we fought our way through the crowded ballroom in search of a drink. "You practically got down on your knees begging and yet now you're embarrassed?!"

"Look, it's complicated, Potter," he sighed heavily, being sure to keep an acceptable distance between us at all times, "it's a Slytherin thing, well - actually it's more of a pure blood thing."

"Oh, well! Then I'm so pleased you brought me here seeing as I'm neither one of those things!" I hissed angrily.

We had reached the drinks table by this point, and I grabbed the nearest flute of champagne throwing my head back, downing it in one.

Draco watched me warily. "Don't you think you'd better slow down there, Potter? We've still got three hours to go until midnight."

"Ugh, don't remind me how long it is!" I snapped furiously, grabbing a fresh flute and knocking that one back too. Fuck, I was pissed off.

"Alright, Drac, my man?" a low, silky voice came from behind me.

I wheeled around to see who it belonged to (almost toppling over in the process), and was met with the face I recognised to be of Blaise Zabini.

He reached around me to shake Draco's hand and they ended up doing this silly fist bump thing which made me snort rather loudly with laughter.

Startled, Blaise's eyes landed on me, looking me up and down. The appreciation was clear.

"Hi, there," he said smoothly, a wicked smile on his face as he held out a hand for me to take. "The name's Zabini, Blaise Zabini. I don't believe I've had the pleasure."

Ignoring his offered hand, I smiled back sweetly at him, "Nice to meet you Zabini, Blaise Zabini. The names Potter, Henrietta Potter."

His face fell in an instant. "Potter?! What are you doing here?"

"Ugh, Draco," I snipped, reaching for another glass of champagne, "you could have at least warned people you were bringing me. I'm getting sick to death of this same delightful greeting I keep receiving!"

Blaise looked from Draco to me in horror. "You brought her here?! To Pansy's party?!"

"Yes, dear," I cut in loudly before Draco could respond, "but strictly as friends mind you! In fact barely even that, is it Draco? Just mere acquaintances because our children happen to be best buddies!"

By the look on Draco's face, I was embarrassing him. Well good, I thought as I drained my glass. Bunch of pretentious twats.

"Is everything okay over here, darlings?"

I tried not to visibly shudder as Pansy came swanning into view, fake concern etched over her face as she zoned straight in on Draco, slithering an arm around his waist as though she owned him.

I had to suppress the urge to fucking deck her.

"Drakie, dear," she simpered in his ear, "the music will be starting soon, and I was hoping I could steal you for a dance later, for old times sake."

"Uh- sure..." Draco answered nervously, not meeting my eye.

"His wife's not even been dead six months!" I spat, not being able to help myself as I was filled with a torrent of hurt and jealousy.

Draco and Pansy's heads simultaneously snapped towards me.

"Hark at you, Potter! Anyone'd think you're jealous!" Pansy tittered, tightening her hold on Draco.

And, as though to prove a point, she reached up on tiptoes and planted her lips against his cheek. "Astoria wouldn't mind; we go way back, don't we darling?"

My blood boiled and it took me everything not to throw my champagne in her spiteful face.

"As if I would ever be jealous of a sad little desperate pug like you. You are embarrassing yourself, Parkinson - still throwing yourself at Draco after all this time even though it's clear from the grimace on his face he'd rather have a toad jump down his throat then be slobbered over by you!"

I heard Blaise quietly snigger behind me. Pansy removed her arm from Draco and drew herself up to full height, placing her hands on her hips and glaring daggers at me. Next to her, Draco closed his eyes and sighed.

"I'd be careful what you say, Potter," she hissed, taking a menacing step towards me, "there are a lot of people in this room right now that would only be too glad to see you six feet under after you put away their friends and relatives."

"Are you threatening me, Parkinson?" I bellowed, "because in case you have forgotten, I'm head Auror and have the power to throw you and everyone else in this room in Azkaban just by the mere click of my fingers."

And to demonstrate this, I clicked my fingers right in her face, causing her to dangerously twitch as her eyes bulged maddeningly at me.

"You little fucking-"

"I think that's enough, now," Draco said, grabbing Pansy's arm as he shot me a warning look.

And without another word, he dragged her a safe distance away from me.

"Wow, Potter," a voice drawled quietly in my ear, "I've got to say, I enjoyed that very much."

Startled, I tore my gaze away from the sight of Draco manhandling Pansy across the room, and found myself staring into a pair of dark, slanting eyes.

Blaise held a glass of champagne in his hand, offering it out to me, his lips pulled into a captivating smile.

I accepted it, smiling back up at him. Damn, I hadn't realised it before but he was fine.

"Well, I aim to please," I purred, keeping my eyes fixed on him as I slowly brought the champagne to my lips.

"Oh, I can see that for myself," he said silkily, his eyes roaming me up and down again. "So, tell me Potter, is there a Mr Potter out there somewhere?"

My eyes flicked over to where Draco stood at the far side of the room, looking as though he was trying to appease a furious looking Pansy.

Well sod him.

"No," I said smiling back up at the beautiful, dark skinned, high cheekbone'd Slytherin, "apart from my son, there's no one."

*****