There it was again: the laugh that was likely the sound angels heard just before getting their wings. He watched from his safe distance as her dainty hand slipped over Ron Weasley's spindly arm, trying hard not to scoff at his own miserable state. He was skulking outside of the Three Broomsticks like a fool, not to mention completely neglecting the attractive young woman who was currently glaring daggers at him. Of course, he had no interest in Astoria Greengrass, but bringing her tonight was necessary—he could not be spotted lurking around alone as his ex-girlfriend traipsed around on the arm of Harry Potter's right-hand man. Their relationship had been blissfully low key, but their breakup had been explosively high-profile, and he was still volatile and brokenhearted. One month was not enough time for him to erase her from his mind, his heart, his life. She was still engrained in him, even as she clung to the arm of another man. Gruffly, Draco extended his own arm to the petite witch at his side, wishing more than anything that he was holding a different dark-haired girl tonight.