You Won't Forget about Me

The street lamps cast their orange light on the large buildings on either side of the road. It was a misty January night, the kind of night that made Draco wish he could stay at home and sulk in peace.

That was a luxury he could no longer afford. All the money from his trust fund, the only money that the Ministry couldn't take away from him, had been invested in a nightclub, and now he had to supervise it every night. Manor, reminisce of his childhood home, had become the main attraction of Bucharest's nightlife.

He finished his cigarette, stepped on it and leaned against the lamppost under which he had parked his black Mercedes. His gaze weighed the night's customers, who were waiting rather impatiently at the front door. There were a few teenagers, whom the security guard was trying to convince to leave, groups of beautiful women who were chatting in their mellow language, some couples and the usual singles, eyeing each other over the crowd.

Two cigarettes later, he finally decided to enter the club. The usher, Alex, smiled broadly and pushed the teenagers unceremoniously out of his way.

"It is a good night, Boss," Alex croaked in broken English behind him.

Draco nodded without turning, his head pounding because of the loud music, and walked over to the bar. Gina handed him a glass of scotch and moved on to the next customer, all flirting attempts abandoned. He closed his eyes and drained the glass.

Somewhere behind him, a young woman was making her way to the bar.

"Patru pahare, Gina. Cine e tipu'?" she asked with a beaming smile, looking pointedly at Draco.

"Poftim. E patronul clubului, nu stiai?" Gina replied, handing her the four glasses. "Nu stie romana, si nici nu-i prea usor sa-l faci din cuvinte in orice limba."

The two women laughed, still glancing in his general direction. He looked at them in turns, processing the little he had understood from the conversation. They said he was the owner, that he didn't speak Romanian (which was correct, he only understood a little) and that he was hard to get. So far, so good.

Draco motioned towards his now empty glass and Gina gave him a refill. He sipped from it delicately and then turned to face the newcomer.

"What's your name?" he asked conversationally.

"I'm Laura. And you are...?"

"I'm Draco."

"Is that a Latin word or something?"

"Yeah, it means 'dragon.'"

"It suits you."

"Thanks," he said and took another swig. He looked at her, trying to memorise her features in case she showed up again. She was a delicate girl, slightly tanned, a little shorter than he was. She had a pretty face with big brown eyes and long, shiny, dark hair. Not his type, but his New Year's resolution was not having a type anymore. It certainly increased his prospects, as Laura was currently half-dragging, half-pushing him towards the dance floor.

When they reached the centre, she started bouncing to the music. He moved around a little uneasily; ballroom dancing was the only kind of dancing he was any good at, and it had taken him years of training to reach that point.

It only took him half an hour to get into the rhythm. It was an infectious beat, and he found himself dancing freely with Laura's body glued to his. The feeling was liberating, and he felt happier than he had been in ages.

Laura took him by the hand and left the dancing floor for the bar. Gina stared at them as they pushed their way through the flock of drunken young people, until they sat down at the polished bar, laughing and sweaty.

Gina didn't say anything as she gave them the drinks they had asked for, nor when they called it a night, an hour later, and left the club clinging to each other. She went in the back room and wiped away her tears, then resumed serving the customers.

~*~

They stumbled into his penthouse apartment, nearly tripping over the exotic plants that decorated his atrium with. She laughed as he untangled his feet from the shoelaces, and then they walked up the stairs to the bedroom.

Before they knew what had happened, they were naked in his bed.

~*~

She woke up as the first rays of sunshine filtered through the large windows. She walked to them and looked out at the city that lay in full view: he lived close to People's Palace, in the most expensive area. A few streetlamps were still alight on either side of the wide street, making the morning mist look orange. The sky was full of stars, and the sun was just rising directly in front of the Palace. All in all, it was breathtaking.

She breathed in a few times before turning her attention on the man she had slept with. He was tangled in the bedsheet, looking very much like a painting with his perfect features and silvery hair.

She went to the bedside and started looking for her clothes. The dress had somehow gotten under the bed, a shoe was missing, and her purse was nowhere in sight. Slowly, she managed to gather all the missing items and put them on.

Upon realising she was hungry, she went downstairs to the kitchen and helped herself to yoghurt from his nearly-empty fridge.

Meanwhile, Draco had woken up. He put a silk robe on and went to the bathroom, where he showered. Then he walked to the kitchen.

She was eating yoghurt and reading yesterday's newspaper at the table. He was startled to see that she was still there; usually, women just left him a note with their phone number on the counter and left. He never called.

She smiled at him and he suddenly wished she would stay a little longer. He kissed her and grabbed a spoon, helping himself to some of her yoghurt.

"Morning, Draco."

"Good morning to you too. I trust you slept well."

"Yes, I have." She put her spoon down and got up from the chair, with Draco looking at her quizzically. She took a note from her bag, left it on the counter, kissed him and left. He finished his breakfast in peace.

After reading the newspaper, Draco decided he wanted to take a walk through the park with Laura. He took his cell phone from the table, and noticed there was a picture on the screen; a picture of Laura, taken during their hour of dancing. He smiled in recollection and picked up the note with what he knew from experience was her phone number.

It wasn't. On the paper were written four simple words that spelled the truth.

You won't forget me.

He placed it back on the counter and went to his bedroom to get dressed for his walk in the park.