A/N: Draco contemplates his relationship with Hermione after another night that comes over to his flat. Read and review. Check out my other fics.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise.
Draco sat at the dining table, nursing his third glass of Firewhiskey and muggle vodka. A dangerous combination but it was doing the job faster than they did individually. He was still trying to drown out the thoughts in his mind but he really felt like was just drowning in the ocean.
Staring into the glass, he contemplated taking another long gulp but he suddenly felt repulsed by how he was behaving. This was probably the fifth night he found himself in this state. She should have just stayed out, stayed away from him after all the damage she had done. But Draco couldn't have turned her away even if he wanted.
She had run out on him again, slamming the door hard enough to knock the small figurines on the shelves onto the floor. The pieces littered the floor, Draco not bothering to pick up the pieces. He couldn't pick up the pieces.
He decided to take that gulp, hoping the miracle drink would somehow sew up his tattered mind and his tattered heart. He could feel the scars that were previously there tear even wider as the alcohol burned his throat. He had gotten too close to her again. When he told himself last time he wouldn't. But he couldn't help it. She did things to him, made him offer his heart on a platter for her to just chew it up and spit out when she didn't like the taste anymore.
She liked being with him when she was having her own problems. And they tried to heal other, mostly through physical actions but sometimes bonding on an emotional level. She was drowning just like him. They were fixing each other. He felt like she understood him. That's when Draco's heart was most vulnerable. He always fooled himself into thinking she'd just stay with him and not go back out to her normal world.
He looked back at the glass near the door. He sees her angry face, her words piercing through him like shrapnel, embedding themselves in his skin and inside his body. He tried to reach out to her at first, keep her there with him, but she refused. She had to go back, she said. It ended with him screaming into her face, "Just go home! Go fix yourself!", pointing to the door.
Draco downs the last of his glass, wiping his the back of his hand across his mouth. He had to get out of here, he had to move on, he had to turn her away. He wouldn't let this happen again. He couldn't keep trying to fix her anymore just to have himself broken.
He walked over to the sink, washing the glass and refilling it with water from the tap. The clear liquid slid down his throat, cooling the rawness he felt. But it helped to clear his mind. I couldn't fix you but at least I can say I tried.
He took his glass into his bedroom, vanishing the broken shards with a flick of his wand. It was time to move on.
