Hermione Granger walked briskly down the sidewalk, glancing over her shoulder every few feet. Couldn't a girl enjoy a cappuccino without some prick hitting on her? And why wasn't 'I'm not interested' enough? Why was their response always 'why? You got a boyfriend on something?' She had downed the rest of her cappuccino and quickly exited the cafe. She was in muggle London, and completely alone. She looked back over her shoulder for the umpteenth time to see if she was being followed. It didn't look like she was.
She had been in hiding for three years and still hadn't been discovered, but that didn't mean she ever let her guard down. Mad-eye yelling 'constant vigilance!' rang in Hermione's head every day. She had had a few close calls, especially when she snuck into wizarding London to snag a Daily Prophet. It was easy to hide in the muggle world. She was well disguised, of course. A platinum blonde wig, cut into a short bob, did well to hide her signature mahogany curls . She wore colored contacts as well.
Three years ago the famous Harry Potter had gone missing. Most people, Voldemort included, assumed him dead. He had bolted off on his solo hero mission and ditched her and Ron, so it wasn't entirely unlikely that he was actually dead. No one had seen a trace hide nor hair of him since the Battle of Hogwarts. This made it all the easier for Hermione to hide. With Harry dead, she and Ron were no longer a threat, and thus, deemed unimportant, especially if they stayed out of the wizarding world.
Shaking the thought of Harry out of her head, Hermione turned right into a deserted alley, the perfect spot to apparate back to her flat without being seen. She dug through the bag that was slung over her shoulder, her wand was somewhere inside, probably buried under the books and various vials of potions she always carried with her. She was too distracted to notice a body slumped against the left side of the alley.
Something caught Hermione's leg and she toppled to the ground. The contents of her bag spilled out onto the asphalt. Glass bottles smashed, their liquids soaking the pages of her books. Out rolled her wand. Hermione's snatched it and sat up, aiming it menacingly at the current threat.
"What the fuck, Granger?"
Hermione stared at the person laying in the alley in front of her. It couldn't be possible. It could not be possible. She stared into his grey eyes. His blond hair was filthy, hanging in greasy strips down the side of his face. His facial hair was horribly unkempt. There was a deep purple bruise around his right eye. He was wearing an oversized trench coat, which was also disgustingly filthy and reeked of stale body odor.
"Malfoy?" She asked in disbelief. She lowered her wand and placed her hand over her pounding heart. He had gone missing after the battle as well. After all, his mother had lied to the Dark Lord, a move that sealed a death sentence for the whole Malfoy line. Everyone had assumed he had been killed in the battle and his body lost.
"This can't be real. You're-you're dead! Or at least, we all thought you were dead." Malfoy gave her a goofy grin, which was very unlike him.
"Well here I fucking am, Granger!" slurred Malfoy. He gave a throaty laugh, his breath washing over her face. It smelled like cheap muggle whisky.
"Merlin, you're drunk. It's nine in the bloody morning and you're drunk off your arse. Fuck, I have to get you out of here." Hermione looked around desperately. She couldn't perform a side along apparition, not with someone this pissed. She would have to take the long way back to her flat, and she would have to drag a very drunk Draco Malfoy with her.
Getting him off the ground had been a challenge, but it did not compare to practically dragging him the rest of the way to her flat, or the fact that she had to coax him up the stairs.
"Why do you live in a building full of muggles?" He asked, rather loudly.
Hermione frantically shushed him. "We're not going to worry about that right now, Draco. Lets just get you into bed."
"Your bed?" Draco asked with a wide grin.
Hermione ignored him.
She groaned when she rounded the corner to her floor. Her elderly neighbor, Mrs. Detweiler was standing outside of her own flat. Her face was set in a scowl and she was tapping her foot angrily.
"Miss Granger" she said in a tone that brought back memories of Umbridge "it is nine thirty in the morning and you and your... friend have sent my parakeet into a frenzy-"
"Oh shut up you old bitch!" Malfoy yelled, stumbling around Hermione. He squinted hard at Mrs.Detweiler, who was rather shocked at his outburst.
"This girl" he slurred, pointing his finger at Hermione and nearly hitting her in the face "is the best and brightest witch of our age! Show her some respect!" He stumbled sideways and slumped against the wall. Hermione stared at Mrs. Detweiler, her face burning in a mix of embarrassment at Draco's drunkenness and pride at his compliment .
"I'm so sorry! He's belligerent. I have no idea what he's talking about!-" but the old woman had already gone back into her flat, slamming the door hard behind her. Hermione groaned and grabbed Draco by the arm, hauling him up. He sagged on her as she unlocked the door.
"Draco, you have to give me a little help here." She said, trying desperately to steady him. The only response she got was a drunken laugh. Hermione pushed the door open and half carried Draco inside.
"Wow" he said, drawing the word out. He stumbled through the doorway and fell face first onto the floor. Hermione sat her keys on the side table that was sitting against the wall to her left and hurried over to help the drunk former Death Eater back up. Her flat was small, and her roommate, Lavender Brown was rarely home during the evenings. She was a party girl, and liked to spend most her nights with whatever man she had sank her teeth into. Hermione didn't mind. It just meant that she had the flat to herself most of the time.
Pulling Draco's arm over her shoulder, she led him to the spare bedroom and stripped off his filthy jacket and shirt.
"You're a leal rooker, you know that, Granger?" Hermione had to suppress a giggle. Draco was even more pissed than she thought if he was mixing up letters. The Draco standing in front of her was nothing like the little snob she had gone to school with. He had stood up for her in the hallway, and he had paid her a compliment, even if it was barely coherent.
By the time she had gotten his shoes off, Draco was mumbling incoherently. She unbuttoned his pants and dragged them off of him. This proved to be a very difficult task given that Draco was now completely unconscious. She grabbed the wool blanket that was hanging over the back of the armchair in the corner of the room and began to drape it over his unconscious body. She stopped, startled by at the vivid mark on his forearm. The skull stared up at her. It's eyes almost gleaming at her with hatred. Next she took in the state that Draco's body was in. Emaciated was the first word that came to her mind. Large, ugly bruises covered his body, his arms bore the marks of drug needles. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply through her nose. She held her breath for eight seconds before blowing it out through her mouth.
What are you doing, Hermione? She thought to herself. There was a Death Eater in her spare bedroom. He might not even know that Voldemort was still alive. Or that the wizarding world was in ruins. Hermione had been forced to go into hiding in the muggle world after the battle at Hogwarts. No one had heard from Harry since the war. He, like Draco, all but vanished.
Hermione gathered Draco's grimy clothing and dropped them into her washing machine, pushed start, and left. One of the many perks of living in muggle housing was definitely the electric appliances. She headed down stairs to the kitchen and made herself some tea. She sat down at her dining room table and put her head in her hands, finally allowing herself to cry. The calendar on her wall marked two weeks. Two weeks since Ron had left her.
"It's not you, Hermione, it's me" he had said, grabbing for her hand. She had yanked it away. Screaming at him to get out of her fucking flat. He had hurried out the door. He didn't see her fall into a broken heap on the floor. He didn't know that that was how Lavender found her at two in the morning when she came home from a wild night of clubbing.
Now she had a Death Eater in her house. The very same Death Eater that has ultimately led to Albus Dumbledore's death. Sure, he hadn't cast the curse himself, but he had made the path. He let the other Death Eaters into the castle. Hermione let out a great sob. Draco looked bad. Really bad. She couldn't just leave him on the street like that. He would have lasted maybe another month. November was nearly upon them and Draco surely would have frozen to death. She yanked the wig off her head and threw it to the floor. Fat angry tears rolled down her face.
She had no idea what Draco would be like when he woke up. Surely three years of hiding meant he wasn't loyal to Voldemort anymore, but she couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't try to kill her when he realized where he was.
Hermione felt a warm hand on her back. She looked up, alarmed, but immediately relaxed when she saw that it was only Lavender. The other girl reach around Hermione and grabbed her mug of now cold tea.
"I'll dump this and make you a new one." She said sympathetically.
"What have you eaten today?" She asked, her back to Hermione.
"Coffee." Hermione replied sheepishly. Lavender turned and gave her a scolding look.
"Coffee is not a meal, Hermione. You've lost nearly twelve pounds already. You can't afford to lose any more. You need food."
Hermione sighed. "I just... can't, Lav. I'm not hungry. My stomach is in knots all the time-" Hermione broke off. Her eyes began to sting with tears again.
"Heartbreak is shit, 'Mione, but you have to take care of yourself." The two girls were quiet for a moment.
"So," said Lavender finally "what did you do today?"
Hermione looked up and gave her a sheepish grin.
"Well," she started. Trying to decide how to best break the news "we may have a new roommate for the time being."
Lavender stared at Hermione in disbelief. Her mouth hanging open, her brown eyes wild with anger and fear.
"How-How could you bring him here, Hermione? He's a wanted man!" She screeched. Hermione covered her ears.
"Lav, I couldn't just... leave him like that! You should see the state of him! He was on death's doorstep!"
Lavender snorted and crossed her arms.
"Serves him right. Fucking traitor."
"We were all children, Lav-"
"Yes but we still chose to fight for good! Children or not, we knew which side was good and which was evil!"
Hermione sighed. "You know he didn't have a choice. His lineage sealed his fate. He would have been killed if he hadn't taken the Mark-"
"Any one of us would have chosen death over being a servant to that monster!" Lavender shoved away from the table and stood up. She began pacing around the kitchen, casting dirty looks at Hermione.
"Well," Lavender said after several minutes of pacing "I guess I'd better go take a look at our new houseguest."
"Don't wake him up!" Hermione pleaded "I have no idea what he'll be like sober!"
She hurriedly followed Lavender up the stairs.
The girls peeked through the door. Hermione saw that Malfoy hadn't moved an inch from where she had put him. Slowly Lavender pushed open the door and the girls tiptoed into the room. Malfoy looked even worse than he had when Hermione had first brought him in. His cheeks were sunken in, his grimy beard was somehow even grimier. His skin was a sallow grey color, which made his bruised eye even more vivid. On top of it all, the room smelled like urine and booze. Lavender covered her mouth and looked at Hermione. Tears shone in her eyes. All of his pureblood, Slytherin pride and this was where he had ended up. In a mudblood's spare bedroom, covered in urine. Did he even know his parents were dead?
Lavender didn't speak until they were back down stairs.
" I understand now." She said, facing Hermione. "I couldn't have left him either.
The buzzer on the washer alerted her that Draco's clothes were ready to be thrown on the dryer. Thankful for a break from Lavender's irritated glares, Hermione headed back upstairs and opened the lid. A second dose of urine and booze hit her in the face. Wrinkling her nose, Hermione added more detergent and ran the washer again, hopeful that a second wash would pull the smell out.
*A/N same chapter, only slightly revised.
HUMONGOUS shout out to Bellaruthless for beta reading this. You're the real MPV!!
