Authors note: Ok so this is another one-shot Dramione. And no, I do not in any way encourage the use of drugs of any kind, and no, this is not something I wrote because I have had any experience with drugs. I'm not sure why I wrote it honestly. But I hope you like it; tell me what you think please! Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to characters, places, contexts, or otherwise. All that is mine is the plot.

Hermione took her hit, and started the long walk to the owlry. That's where he was waiting. She walked the long corridors, stumbling slightly the further she went. It was starting. She got to the winding staircase, and she could barely see straight anymore. Flames were licking the walls; she heard screaming. It was bad today. When this first started she didn't know what to do. She felt like dying, and almost did a few times. But then she discovered the cure one night, after wandering for hours and finally finding herself in the owlry.

Flashback

Hermione was frantic. It was bad this time, really bad. Why did she keep doing this to herself? There was no gain, she knew that. She was digging herself deeper and deeper, farther and farther down this road that would lead nowhere. But she couldn't stop. She was too far gone. It helped with the emptiness inside her. She got to the top of the owlry stairs, not knowing why she had come this way.

She looked around, and noticed something in the corner. Upon closer inspection, she decided it must be a frog. It was a lovely little frog, although she couldn't quite focus on it. It looked pink. And, she thought, it appeared to have blue sparkles all over it. How beautiful. Suddenly the flames surrounding her turned pink and blue, and began to slowly fade. In their place purple clouds began to appear, and she could hear something sweet playing in the distance. She thought she recognized the tune from somewhere, perhaps her mother used to sing it to her she thought.

Her gaze fell once again on the frog she had seen. But it wasn't a frog anymore. It was a boy. A very familiar looking boy, she thought. He had almost white hair, and he wore the colors of Slytherin. How odd, she thought. What was he doing here? And why was he no longer a frog? She dismissed it from her mind. There was a blue haze surrounding the boy, and he turned and looked at her. His eyes were steel gray, and they seemed oddly haunted, like he had some dreadful burden she couldn't ever know. But he had made the flames go away, she realized. It was him who had made it safe.

Suddenly she felt very tired. She couldn't think very well, and decided that she simply would give up trying to. She lay down beside the familiar looking boy and fell asleep, trusting the boy to keep her safe, and feeling certain he would, although she could not explain why.

She woke up on the cool floor, and wondered where she was. She felt someone beside her, and she turned her head. Ah yes, that boy was still here. In the light of the morning, and with a reasonably sane mind, at least compared to the night before, she surveyed him again. She gasped.

"Draco!"

He woke with a start, and she recognized the red, wild eyes that always came after a trip. So she wasn't the only one who found solace in the flames and the fires, she thought.

Then she remembered who Draco was. She gasped again. Had she spent the night here? With this bully, this monster, this follower of the wrong side? But then again, she supposed she wasn't the golden angel she used to be either. After the war everyone had changed. She hadn't changed for the better. Perhaps he had, but most likely not. Then again, who really cared anymore? She had no friends, no family, and no real reason to live. Her family was gone, untraceable, with their minds and identities stolen by none other than herself. Her friends had spent months trying to get her back from the pit she'd dragged herself into, but had given up when she seemed lost beyond hope. They had their own miseries to bear; they couldn't handle anyone else's. Perhaps she was even more broken, even more corrupt than this boy. But she couldn't think about this now. He was staring at her. She muttered something and stumbled out the door and back to her dorm.

The next evening she found her way there again. She thought she would test the cure for the flames. Maybe it was silly for her to think he would be back, but she wasn't really thinking rationally at the moment anyway.

She got to the top of the stairs. He was there. He was a triangle, then a square. Now he was a towering pine tree, changing colors as it swayed in a breeze that she hadn't noticed before. The flames faded. She walked up to the tall pine, and curled up underneath it. An angel swept down to her and gave her a feathery pillow. She sat down and rested her head on the pine's soft pink trunk. But it was the boy again, and he looked surprised, and stared at her again. But she could see the glint in his eyes; the same halfway gone look she knew existed in her own hazel eyes. He looked curious. She wondered what he saw. Then he put his arm around her, and they sat together, watching their own display of color and movement.

From the corner of her eye Hermione thought she saw two owls perched at the top of the owlry that she hadn't seen before. One was a silvery grey color, the other reddish brown.

Again and again she went back, good trip or bad. He was always there. He always made it better. He didn't just make the flames go away, he made the music play. He made the light scatter in rainbows. He made the world beautiful. She couldn't explain it, but something about him changed everything for her. They sometimes talked, sometimes they just sat and heard the colors surrounding them sing.

She didn't care who he was, really. It no longer mattered what happened in the past, she wanted to simply live in the moment. And so she did, with him.

End Flashback

She was at the top. The flames were blocking her path to him. She screamed. And he came, just like he always did. They were both far gone today, both in a hell world. But they held each other as the flames began to dance away, and they fell to the floor together, exhausted. She could barely think, but she knew something then, whether it was real or another allusion. But somehow she knew she loved him. As she watched the sun dance on the dusty floor, and heard the whistle of fairies darting between them, she knew. So she did the only thing she could think of. She kissed him.

Sparks flew in the air above them, and she couldn't tell if they were real or not. But it didn't matter, because now he was kissing her back. His lips were soft and warm, and they seemed like the only real thing in the world.

She had given up on decency a long time ago. She was simply living in order to feel something. If Draco was the answer to this desperate plea, so be it. She needed something, and this seemed to be what she needed, so why not?

She felt free, freer than she ever had, at least since the war. The drug was still playing with her, but she could feel its hold lessen slightly as Draco snaked his arms around her waist and drew her closer. She reached up and twined her fingers in his hair, and heard his breathing hitch in his throat. His hands were slowly rubbing her back, and she felt them reach up to her arms. And then he was on her neck, and she couldn't breathe properly anymore.

"Draco…" She breathed.

She thought she saw him smile as he brought his lips back to hers.

Maybe this was real, and maybe it wasn't. But all that mattered to them both was that at that moment, that point in time, they were free together.

Two owls screeched and took to the sky; one silvery grey, and the other reddish brown.

THE END

Honestly the ending was going to be a lot darker, but my mood shifted about halfway through writing this, and I decided to change it. Please review