Keep my glass full until morning light,

'cause I'm just holding on for tonight

xxx

Hermione paced around her room holding back the tears as she took in her surroundings. It was a small room; a double bed, a table and chair, a small armchair and an ensuite bathroom through the door to her left. It wasn't much, but she supposed it would do for the night and she could look into getting her own flat the following day.

Sinking down onto the bed, Hermione finally let the tears spill over her eyes. She'd known that a split with Ron was coming, she'd known it for weeks, but that didn't stop it from being the worst thing to happen to her since the war. It had come at probably the worst time for Hermione as well; she had found out a couple of days before that she was pregnant and was planning on telling Ron that night to try and mend the situation, however Ron had decided to pick yet another argument with her before she had a choice and she'd ended up storming out of their flat screaming about how she never wanted to see him again.

After getting up and pacing around the room a few more times Hermione decided that she'd had enough and so she headed to the bar downstairs. As she reached the bottom of the stairs Hermione groaned. She'd known that coming to the Leaky Cauldron was probably a bad idea since she wanted to be alone, but it was the only place she could think of going on such short notice. However it wasn't how busy the bar was that made Hermione groan, it was the fact that over in the corner she could see none other than Draco Malfoy along with some of his old Death Eater buddies.

Sighing, Hermione made her way over to the other side of the room, trying to get as far away from Slytherins as she could. However as she walked she couldn't help but overhear their conversation and something didn't seem right.

"Just fuck off, Draco, we don't want you here!" a girl, Hermione thought it was Pansy Parkinson, yelled at him.

"What have I done this time?" he asked. It seemed like he was genuinely confused as to why his friends were cutting him out.

"Mate, we're trying to have a good time here. Just go home, I'll talk to you tomorrow," Hermione looked over; it was another Slytherin from her year. She noticed he was holding hands with a blonde girl. They were both Slytherins but not ones she knew well. After taking a moment to think back to the Slytherins her age she realised it must be Theodore Nott and Daphne Greengrass.

"But, Theo…" Draco started before he was cut off by Daphne.

"Look, Draco, just because your marriage to my sister failed, which was completely your fault might I add, it doesn't mean you can come and mope over it to us. It's been three months, get over yourself and move on. Merlin knows she has!"

"I…"

"Just go, Draco," Theo told him, the pity obvious in his voice.

Hermione shook herself and continued to the spare table she'd spotted before they noticed her staring. As she sat down she noticed a crumpled ball of paper on the floor so, being Hermione Granger, she picked it up to be polite. She was just going to leave the paper on the table to be cleared up, however curiosity got the better of her when she saw the words 'Malfoy' and 'sorry' written on it so she put it in her pocket instead. When she looked back up she saw Malfoy making his way over to her table, and he didn't look happy.

"Enjoying the show, Granger?" he snarled at her, "Thought you'd get a better view from my table, did you?"

"What show? Oh you mean that little tiff you were having over there? I got enough of that in school, thanks, I was actually trying to avoid it which is why I'm all the way over here!"

"Well, now that it's over you can find yourself a new table. This one's mine."

"There are no other free tables, Malfoy, otherwise I would!" she told him, starting to get riled up until she looked in his eyes and saw just how much the argument with the Slytherins had affected him, "but you're welcome to sit here as well…" she added in a small voice.

Hermione was getting ready for him to blow up at her; even since the war he hadn't been friendly to her and she wasn't expecting that to change any time soon. This was why she was so surprised when she heard the chair next to hers move as Malfoy pulled it out and sat next to her.

"Granger," he started, and Hermione noticed he was starting to slur his words a little, "I'm going to need you to do two things for me tonight."

"O-okay…" she replied, extremely confused in the change of attitude from him.

"Number 1: shut up," Hermione tried to object but he just smirked at her and she decided to wait until she'd heard the second thing, "and number two: make sure my glass," at this point Draco raised his glass and waved it at her, "is never empty. Do you understand?"

Hermione decided not to say anything. His first rule had been to not talk after all.

"Well?" he insisted getting noticeably annoyed.

"I thought you told me to shut up," she half argued back at him before realising it wasn't the time so just agreed. "Yes, yes I understand. What are you drinking?"

"Firewhiskey!" he told her before upending the glass and downing what little liquid he had left in there.

Hermione got up and walked over to the bar, making sure to glance back every couple of steps to check on Malfoy. He seemed fine by the time she reached the bar so decided to just order a whole bottle of firewhiskey for the table.

"Hermione, what brings you here tonight?" Hannah beamed at her from behind the bar.

"Ron and I had a fight, again," Hermione told her, "I think this might finally be it."

"Oh no!" Hannah cried, leaning over the bar to give her a hug, "what makes you think that?"

"I told him I never wanted to see him again," she told the barmaid with a chuckle.

"Well I can see why it might be over," Hannah smiled at her, "Well, what are you drinking then?"

"I'd like a cup of tea, please, however Malfoy has taken it upon himself to invade my table and demand I make sure he never runs out of drink so I guess I'll also have a bottle of firewhiskey for him."

"Very well, are you sure you're okay with him being there? I can get him kicked out if you'd like?"

"No, he's not causing me any harm and honestly I think he just wants some company. I saw him arguing with the Slytherins in the corner earlier and it seemed like they were trying to exclude him. I feel a little sorry for him if I'm honest…"

"Oi, Granger!" Hermione heard Malfoy call from the back table making her feel slightly less sorry for him, "What's taking so long?"

"Ah, King Malfoy summons me!" Hermione laughed as she grabbed the drinks from the bar, "how much do I owe you?"

"Oh don't worry about it. I'm sure you're going to have to put up with enough from that git tonight so I'll make him pay, for the tea as well,"

"Thanks, Hannah!" she told her before making her way back to the table she was somehow sharing with Malfoy.

As she placed the drinks down on the table Malfoy looked up. He nodded in thanks, at least Hermione thought it was in thanks, before grabbing the bottle and refilling his glass. He drank the glass down and poured himself another one before he looked up and noticed Hermione quietly sipping at her tea.

"What, you too good for alcohol or something?" he asked her. He had obviously tried to sound menacing, but Hermione couldn't help but feel sorry for him; he'd slurred his words so much she could start to hear the pain he was so obviously trying to drown in alcohol.

"Or something…" she said cryptically her hand stroking her belly as she took another sip of tea.

"Right… Anyway, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at home with Weasel?"

"I thought you didn't want me to talk?" Hermione asked, both as a genuine question and to attempt to change the subject.

"Humour me," he told her. Hermione noticed he hadn't taken a drink in a while and was starting to sound slightly more sober, whether this was a good thing or not she was yet to work out.

"Fine, we had an argument so I decided to stay here for the night. Problem?"

Draco chuckled. "So Gryffindor's 'Golden Girl' has marital problems just like the rest of us. Who knew?"

"And what brought you here tonight?" Hermione asked wanting to talk about anything but herself. She'd come here to forget.

"I wanted to forget…" he told her in a small voice. Hermione had to strain her ears but she heard it, those words she had just thought to herself. It was eerie how alike they could be sometimes. "That's why I don't want to stop drinking."

Hermione looked at Draco, really looked this time. His posture was slouched, his hair dishevelled, his eyes red from what Hermione could only assume was holding back tears, and when she looked deeper into his eyes she could see a pain that she'd seen in very few other people, a pain that came with loss and not being able to deal with it.

"Alright, Malfoy, I'm going to make this very clear: I don't care about you, and you don't care about me,"

"That's an understatement!"

"BUT… I can tell you're in pain – emotional pain that is – and therefore I am willing to lend my ear should you wish to talk about it."

Hermione looked toward him when she heard him start to laugh, the confusion she felt evident on her face.

"You really are something…" Draco muttered before turning his full attention to her, "Here's the deal: I came here tonight to forget a few things, and while talking about them won't achieve my original plan I have been told previously that I should talk them through with someone. Now naturally you wouldn't be my first option to talk these things over with, my first option would be to not talk about them at all, but it appears that Theo is unavailable to talk tonight since he is celebrating his anniversary with his wife and therefore I am left with you. So while I don't want to talk to you, it appears that talking is the only option left. So, fetch me some more firewhiskey and when I am suitably drunk I may start talking."

Hermione was taken aback. This did not sound anything like the Draco Malfoy she had known in school, however she could tell he really did need someone to talk to even if he couldn't see it himself so she walked over to the bar and fetched another two bottles of firewhiskey for Draco.

"So," Hermione said when she returned, "going to start talking?"

"Yes, fine," he grumbled, "what do you want to know?"

"I don't want to know anything, but I suppose you should probably start with why you're here tonight. What do you want to forget?"

"I thought that would be obvious, Granger. You do recall hearing about my mother's death last year, do you not?"

"Oh my, of course!" Hermione could have kicked herself. "It was a year today, was it not? November 25th?"

"Yes," he told her bluntly, "it was. That is the main reason I'm here tonight, I figured if I kept drinking right through until morning I'd be able to hold on. I'm not sure I'd get through the night without alcohol."

"Draco, that's…"

"Did I say we were on first name terms, Granger?"

"No, sorry," she replied, a sheepish grin on her face. She hadn't meant to call him Draco, but when someone shares something that painful with you then you can't help but feel sorry for them. "What else? You said that was the main reason so I'm assuming there are other reasons?"

"Sort of," Draco paused and took a long swig of his firewhiskey, "It's more one big reason."

"Well…" Hermione prompted when it was clear Draco wasn't going to say anything else.

"I… Since the war I've just – I've had nothing to fight for. I always thrived on that. I thrived on having something to do; be that in school trying to beat you to the top of the class or in the war being a Death Eater and having a side to fight for. But since the war ended, since my side lost, I've just felt so… so… so empty. I've felt like there's no fight left in me, like there's nothing left inside of me. I have no will to do anything anymore; I struggle to even get out of bed in the mornings. Everything I had, everything I believed in is gone and I just don't know what to do with myself."

Hermione sat in silence, Draco's revelations going round her head over and over. She knew what he was going through; she'd been there herself and she'd seen it in others but she had no idea how to tell him in a way that he'd understand so she just stayed quiet.

Draco didn't say anything either, and Hermione watched as he polished off yet another bottle of firewhiskey and start on his fourth. Or Hermione thought it was his fourth, she had fetched him three and he must have had at least one before she'd come down. She was getting worried for him.

"And are… are you okay?" she finally asked, more concerned at that moment in time about the amount of alcohol inside him than the problems he was facing.

"Oh I'm fucking fine, Granger! Did I forget to tell you how much I craved an empty life!" he spat back not realising that she was looking at the way he was slouched and listening to the way he slurred his words.

"Draco, I – I think you need help. Real help –"

"I don't need help, Granger! And I certainly don't need your pity…"

"I'm sorry, Draco, I –"

"STOP CALLING ME BY MY FIRST NAME!"

Hermione took a moment to collect herself. She hadn't meant to get him riled up, she genuinely had just forgotten in that moment that she wasn't on first name basis with him.

"Sorry, Malfoy, I guess I'll just shut up like you wanted originally. I guess that's what you want."

"Fine!"

They sat there in silence for about five minutes until Draco finally opened his mouth.

"Look, Granger, I'm sorry. I just… I'm not used to opening up to people. Theo and Pansy won't listen, the rest of the Slytherins will barely look at me and I haven't seen my father since Mother died. It's hard finally opening up, and to you of all people."

Hermione supressed a chuckle as she waited for him to continue.

"I just – thank you for listening to me I guess."

"Do my ears deceive me? Did the Draco Malfoy just thank me?"

"I guess I did…" he chuckled before they settled into a more comfortable silence.

"Malfoy I'm not quite sure how to say this –"

"Just spit it out, Granger!"

"I think you might be suffering from depression. I – I had it after the war, I still do although not as much, and my father has it too. I know what the signs are, and you fall into all of them,"

She looked into his eyes and she saw the realisation in them. She also saw something she wasn't expecting, a look of sobriety.

"Malfoy, are you sober?"

"You got me," he chuckled, "When I came in I asked Abbott there to cut me off after one bottle. I was drunk when I started talking to you, but I thought I'd carry on. I knew if you thought I was worse than I was you'd pity me and let me talk. I needed this, Granger, even if it was from you."

"You're an arse!" Hermione chided him before standing up and talking the stairs back to her room.

How dare he! She thought to herself, How dare that arrogant… bastard use me like that!

Hermione flung her jacket down onto the bed, and noticed the piece of parchment she'd found earlier roll out.

"Well, there's no harm in reading it, I guess," she said to herself before flattening it out. It was a letter from Draco to his mother.

Mother,

I'm not sure how to write this, even though I know you'll never see it.

I wanted to tell you I'm sorry. I'm sorry for failing you as a child. I'm sorry for choosing the Dark Lord when I know you never wanted that for me. And I'm sorry for not being there in your last moments.

This past year, it's been terribly lonely, Mother. I split from Astoria and I became so withdrawn that I alienated myself from my friends.

I don't think I'm over the war yet. It's been years but it's just not going away.

I still have nightmares, Mother. I always have. I know you were there for the first year, always calming me and telling me everything was okay, but they never stopped. I hid them from you, Mother. I hid them from you because I was ashamed. I was ashamed of how much it had affected me. You and Father both seemed so normal, like you were over it. But I wasn't, I'm still not.

I've thought about killing myself, Mother. I've thought about it more times than I'd care to admit, especially in this last year. But I am a Malfoy, and Malfoys do not take the easy way out.

Everyone called me a coward at school. Everyone thought I'd chicken out, couldn't believe it when I was chosen by the Dark Lord – even my fellow Slytherins. But I didn't and I got that from you, from the Blacks. Father has always been a coward, but not you. I am proud to get that from you.

But I think I've finally come to realise I need help. Writing these letters to you over the past year has helped somewhat, but I need to talk to someone. I need to discuss how I'm feeling, get it all out in the open.

I know Theo and the rest of the Slytherins won't understand. They've all moved on, they weren't as involved as I was so it was easier for them. But maybe one day I'll finally be able to talk to someone who understands. That's all I want, Mother. For someone, anyone, to understand.

Draco.

As Hermione read the letter she felt tears drip down her face. She hadn't realised just how much Draco had needed her that night. She had just given the man she despised the one thing he needed most and she was happy about it.

She could only hope that this meant her salvation was just around the corner too.

Word Count: 3,246.

AN: I would like to apologise for the end of Draco and Hermione's conversation. If I'd had my way this fic would be a lot longer and Draco wouldn't really have been sober, however he just didn't seem drunk enough to me and I had to get this finished in around 3,000 words. Yeah, and it's 3:30am and the deadline for this is in 8 and a half hours so somehow I doubt I'd be able to make it any better.

So yeah, sorry. Maybe one day I'll rewrite it but better :)

This is for:

QLFC Round 3 – Not Your Average OTP Round

CHASER 2: Write about your OTP (Dramione) dealing with a mental illness

Prompts;

1. (dialogue) "What have I done this time?"

10. (picture) [crumpled letter]

13. (song) 'Chandelier' by Sia