AN: Written for Beautiful Meanings Competition, level Medium, with the color indigo with the negative meaning-addiction.
…
She had been walking by down an empty pathway on her return from the Owlery, one stormy twilight, minding her own business when she smelt it. The air stank of toxic cigarette smoke, mingling with the damp, cold, over-hanging clouds in the sky.
Who the hell could be smoking, and in this weather? She thought, trying to block the offensive odor from her nostrils, as she continued walking, watching for anything strange.
She was just about to pass Greenhouse One when she noticed a leg leaning up against one of its fogged glass walls; a small bit of embers glowing from something hanging between the figure's fingers, his entire body just out of view.
She muttered 'lumos' beneath her breath, which came out in wisps of white, before veering off the cobblestone path with caution as she felt the first few drops of rain begin to fall in a heavy down pour.
The embers she used as a guide were extinguished, and she lost the figure for a second as the rain blinded her vision for a moment. She wiped the water from her eyes and when she looked up, her eyes widened.
A wand was pointed straight at her, held by the one and only Draco Malfoy.
"Malfoy?"
"G-Granger?"
Draco took the wand away from her face, and held it near his for the light; the rain flattening his blonde hair. "What the hell Granger? What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same question! Were you smoking?"
"What if I was? What are you gonna do 'bout it? Report me to Pot-head and the Weasel?"
Hermione could suddenly smell alcohol in the mix of his breath. "Are…are you drunk?"
"On my way to it. So if you would ever so kindly, leave me to it." Hermione stepped forward, the rain soaking her to the bone, and a strong gust of wind whipping her hair about her head.
"Absolutely not! First, you're not supposed to be out here, doing that; and second, we're in a storm if you haven't noticed!" Her voice rose over the sound of the now howling wind, and she was eager to get out of it.
"All the more reason!" Draco replied, yelling back. "So go run off-" A crack of thunder and a flash of lightning lit up the sky, drowning him out, and making them both jump. As the sky darkened again, Hermione knew the longer they stayed out, the higher the risk of getting lost on the way back to the castle-it happened all the time to students away from the main grounds in bad weather.
She grabbed his wrist suddenly. "Come on," she said, dragging him into the greenhouse besides them. It was dark, as they entered; warmer when they closed the door behind them. "What the hell Granger?" Draco asked, yanking his wrist away, a bottle in the other hand.
"There's no way we'll make it back to the castle in that; we'll get lost in a heartbeat."
"So then what do you propose we do?"
"I guess we wait until the storm lets up," she replied, plopping down in a corner of the dark room. "Sit down and don't touch anything."
"With pleasure."
He sat down in the opposite corner, pushing his soaked hair back with one hand, before taking a large swig of the bottle.
Hermione rolled her eyes, before looking around. She recognized it as a first-year greenhouse-nothing in here would harm them. Good, she thought. One less thing to worry about.
Thirty-five minutes passed by, with the storm still raging. Hermione sat disgusted as Draco took his umpteenth gulp, before she exploded, miserable and soaked.
"Will you quit that? You're going to drown in it."
"I bet you'd love that."
"I'd rather your demise be of something other than alcohol."
Draco gulped. "Oh? Is the Gryffindor getting soft?"
Hermione glared at him. "No, I just don't want your body reeking of spirits if they take it out of here." Draco shrugged, setting the nearly empty bottle on the ground. He got up, staggering a bit, and sauntered over to her.
Hermione shifted away. "I'd appreciate it if you got away from me."
Draco stopped and crouched in front of her, somehow keeping his balance on the balls of his feet. "But why? Do I…do I make you…nervous?" he asked innocently, with a small hint of smirk, as if he were a small child, and not the arrogant rival she had known all of her childhood.
"You're drunk, that's why! And no, you make me anything but nervous."
Draco shifted forward, leaning towards her some more. "Then what do I make you?" He was dangerously close now; almost nose to nose. Hermione could feel her face getting warm at the close proximity, and reminded herself that he was drunk and most definitely not himself.
She turned her head away. "What do I make you?" he repeated, his words slurring slightly.
She turned her head back to face him with annoyance. "Noth-!" The words died on her lips as Draco's lips pressed lightly against hers. Hermione's eyes widened and she pushed him away, turning away from him, her face on fire.
"I-I…sorry-" Draco began, as a sobered response to her reaction before Hermione cut him off. "P-please, just…go sit in the corner."
For the next hour, Hermione stared at the shadows of the raindrops, her mind in a whirl and Draco continued to drown everything out with the last of his alcohol.
…
When the rain finally rain let up, an hour and a half later, the two were on their way out of the greenhouse; Hermione mostly leading a staggering Draco, now completely showing full effects of inebriation.
When they made it to the castle, the corridors were empty; Hermione figured it was at least midnight. She wanted to get to bed as soon as possible-it would be hard to explain to a professor the situation that had happened without any major consequences for them both.
She had gotten them towards the end of the Long Gallery, when she heard someone giggling. As they entered the Viaduct Entrance, she saw a couple snogging against one of the posts of the Spiral Staircase.
Hermione immediately identified the boy as Blaise, one of Draco's cohorts, and struggled over, soaked with a still drunken Draco hanging off her arm. Their movement interrupted the couple, who broke apart; Blaise sent his partner away.
"Here, take him." She detached Draco from the crook of her arm and guided him to Blaise. Blaise looked at her, his eyes wide, his dark cheeks slightly flushed from his previous activity.
"What?"
"He's drunk."
"I figured that. My, is the know-it-all secretly a party girl?"
"Oh please, he got himself drunk. He's got a problem, and if you cared, you'd help him," Hermione rebuffed.
"He's been stressed," Blaise replied, moving away for a second to set Draco down on the steps. She had only just noticed the indigo shirt Draco was wearing.
"About what?"
"Studies, parents, things you wouldn't understand."
Hermione rolled her eyes-everyone went through the same thing in their life, of course she'd understand some of it, but she didn't press further. "Well next time, he can relax with something other than liquor. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed; and I'd suggest you'd do the same, especially with him."
She turned back to the direction she had just come from, quickening her step with every memory flooding back from just hours before. He was different when he was drunk-softer, kinder, and more innocent. But it still didn't change who he was sober.
As she crawled into bed, shedding her damp clothes, she wondered what he would say about it in the morning. That was, if he said anything. There was no predicting anything with him.
Sleep came easier than she thought and her dreams were filled with rain and smoke and kisses.
…
When Hermione woke up, the dormitory was empty and she had missed breakfast. There were no classes for the weekend, and Hermione knew that Harry and Ron would be looking for her if she didn't get up soon.
She got dressed, unsuccessfully tried her hair from its wild state, and hurried downstairs in an effort to find her friends. They'd be in the library, the lake maybe? She'd try these spots first.
She was five minutes away from the library when she saw Draco's gang loitering through the halls. She kept her head down, waiting for some sort of reaction when Draco's voice called out to her.
"Look at the Mudblood fur-ball! How much static do you think she's got built up in that hair?" Their laughter echoed in her ears as she passed by them; her blood starting to boil. This was what he had to say? Insults?
She gritted her teeth together and walked a few more steps before her own impulses controlled her; she spun around on her heel, grabbing Draco by the arm, not caring who saw or what would be said about it, and dragged him down an empty hallway.
Draco yanked his arm back, protesting. "What the hell, Granger?"
Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Ha, so we're playing this game, huh? Pretend nothing happened and go back to calling me names? You've got a problem, Malfoy-an addiction-and you need help." She could smell the previous night's alcohol and a hint of cigarette smoke on his breath.
"I don't need anyone's help! Especially not a Mudblood's-!" He stopped mid-sentence, cut off by a loud, harsh slap across his face.
"Don't call me that! I'm sick of you calling me that! You know, you really are a stuck up arse and you can rot away with your bloody liquor and smoking for all I care!"
A sullen, barking voice interrupted them. "Miss Granger! Mr. Malfoy! What is going on?" Both students turned around, staring at Professor Snape who came striding towards them.
"Professor?"
"Don't try and act as if you haven't been using foul language with your disruptive yelling, Miss Granger. Now, I'll ask again-what is going on?"
Hermione and Draco glanced at each other and Draco gave her a threatening look. Hermione turned back towards Snape and exploded.
"Well Professor, last night I was returning from the Owlery and on my way back I found Malfoy smoking and drinking…and then, this morning he called me a Mudblood and I confronted him about his problem and I tried telling him that he needs help, and then he insulted me again and-"
"Is this true, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked coldly, cutting her off.
"I mean…some of it is..."
"Don't lie to me, Mr. Malfoy! The truth, now!"
Draco glared at Hermione before he swallowed hard and said, "Yeah, it's all true. But Professor…it's not an addiction-"
"I don't want your back talk, Mr. Malfoy. You'll get this disgusting problem under control or I'll be contacting your parents and you will not be returning after winter break, pupil or no."
Snape turned to Hermione with a glare, "I'd better not hear any more foul-mouthed behavior coming from you in my presence. Ten points from both Slytherin and Gryffindor." With that, he turned on his heel and stalked off down the dark corridor.
Draco turned on Hermione, his reddened cheek still glowing on his pale skin. "I don't need help from anyone! Especially not you!"
"Do you even remember what happened last night?"
"Bits and pieces; what does that have to do with anything?"
"It has everything to do with your problem! Merlin, when will you get it through that stupid head of yours?"
"Read my lips: I. Don't. Need. Your-"
"You kissed me."
Draco's jaw slackened for a moment before his brows knitted together in confusion. "Excuse me?"
"You kissed me; last night, we were trapped in one of the greenhouses because of the storm-you were drunk and after some talk, you kissed me."
"Are you sure you didn't drug me or something-"
Hermione rushed towards him and raised her hand again, but Draco caught it and held her wrist tight. "No? Alright."
Hermione tried to snatch her hand away, but he kept it tight and she blushed slightly. "Don't you see? You've got a problem. You shouldn't be doing that, especially with me."
Draco suddenly thought of challenging her, seeing the sight of her blushing. "Oh? Why not with you?" he smirked. "What makes you think I wouldn't again?"
Her brows furrowed, and she shook her head; glared up at him with hatred; snapped out of her blushing, and remembered that she was talking to Draco Malfoy. "Because I'm a Mudblood, remember? Besides, why would I like a stuck up, arrogant prick like you?"
She snatched her hand away furiously, and pushed him back from her. "I would never like you, even if my life depended on it!"
Her heels clicked on the cobblestone floor as she hurried away, confused if his act was just a game or something more.
….
AN: I might continue this if people like it.