He had gotten past this. This desperate urge to down entire bottles of alcohol in a vain attempt at forgetting her, forgetting what she had done. While he wouldn't classify himself as an alcoholic, he recognized that alcohol had become a crutch for him after he'd screamed at his mother for pouring every last bottle he'd had hidden around Malfoy Manor (version 2.0) down the drain. In Narcissa's defense, she'd found him passed out in a puddle of his own piss in the pouring rain. In his own defense, it had been five years to the day that Hermione had disappeared without a trace. Narcissa had forced a Sober Up potion down his throat and informed him that she had gotten rid of all the alcohol. His raging, he was told by the elves, could be heard on the top floor of the Manor. He had then proceeded to summon bottles of alcohol from Merlin knows where and, when that had failed, sleeping and pain potions, which Narcissa had steadily banished with hardly a blink. It wasn't until he started sobbing and Narcissa had taken him in her arms, ordering that he pull himself together or so help her she would commit him to St. Mungo's that he had pulled himself together. He had promised himself, and Narcissa, that he was swearing off drinking alcohol and potions to numb the pain. For the last two years, he'd stuck with that promise, only allowing himself, at most, two glasses of whatever was being served in strictly controlled social settings. He wasn't going to allow the surprise reappearance of his... ex... to derail him.