This is my first attempt at writing anything remotely angsty. It's a two-shot and already completely written. I will post the second part depending on the response either this week or the next. That means, tell me what you think and you will get it earlier!

Thanks to Nantai for betaing

AND CHECK THE WARNINGS!

I

15.12.2002 22:15

Draco stumbles through the door, throwing angry glances at the Aurors who pushed him in, an insult on his lips, when he notices Harry and Ron standing in the room.

"Where is she?" Ron growls, but Harry holds his arm firmly, silently stopping the redhead from attacking Draco.

Draco smiles as he straightens up, adjusting his jacket that had been ruffled when he was hurled to the Ministry. "So this is what this is about," he drawls. "Interesting. Too bad I can't help you."
"Stop lying!" Ron says, and Draco sees Harry's hand tighten around his arm.

"I am not lying," Draco says calmly, now serious. "I can't help you."
"You were the last person who spoke to her," Harry pushes.

"So what?" Draco asks, studying his nails. "Doesn't mean anything."

"We have witnesses that saw you two arguing in front of her place the night she disappeared," Ron snarls and Draco looks up.

"That still doesn't mean I have anything to do with it. I am sure your precious witnesses will tell you that she went upstairs and I left."

"You are not leaving before we find her," Harry looks Draco directly in the eye, making a silent promise. Draco would spend the rest of his days in Azkaban if anything happened to Hermione.

Draco's lips curl downward. "You can't hold me here forever, Potter," he hisses.

"I can," Harry retorts, frowning. "And I will, unless you tell me what I want to know."
"And what is it?" Draco asks as blood starts dripping from his hand as his fingernails dig into his skin. He is tired and angry. So angry.

"You should sit down. It's going to be a long night," Harry says and motions to the chair nearest to Draco. There are two more at the other site of the table and Harry sits down on one, while Ron remains standing.

Draco sighs and obliges. "You really had to do this at night, didn't you?"

Harry ignores his comment and leans forward. "What were you arguing about?"

"None of your business," Draco crosses his arms over his chest and frowns when he sees the blood dripping from his hand.

"What were you doing there, then?" Harry asks. It is obvious that he is trying to control himself, but Draco can see that he is distressed. He has dark circles under his eyes and his hair is even messier than usual. He looks like he hasn't slept for days, maybe weeks. Draco isn't surprised. He can imagine what he is feeling and knows he would be the same if he was in their position. No, he would be even worse. Actually, he is worse, even though they can't see it.

"I walked her home," Draco replies truthfully. He is willing to tell them that much. They know that he had been there anyway.

"Why would you do that?" Ron asks and Draco turns to him. Ron is looking better than Harry, but seems angrier as well. He stands there with arms crossed over his chest, staring daggers into Draco. It's obvious, that he thinks Draco hurt Hermione, maybe even killed her.

"She asked me to," Draco says and watches Ron's face change colour.

"Liar," Ron hisses and Draco smirks.

"Prove it," he drawls.

"Why would she do that?" Harry steps in in an attempt to prevent an escalation so soon. He knows that there will one sooner or later, but he wants to get as much information as he can before that happens.

"None of your business," Draco says again and he can practically hear Ron's teeth grind together.

"Look, Malfoy," Harry runs a hand through his hair, sounding more tired than Draco has ever heard him. "I don't want to threaten you or torture you or anything, but I will if you don't cooperate. You have to understand that we have gotten permission to use any means necessary to find her. And I mean any."

Draco bites his lip. He knows Harry well enough to know that he isn't joking. He would really do anything for Hermione if he truly believes it is the right thing to do, and he does right now.

"We were going out," he says finally, watching Harry closely for any reaction. He doesn't need to watch Ron, no. His reaction is predictable. He turns red and starts accusing him of lying. But Harry isn't.

"Why should I believe you?" Harry asks, his eyes never leaving Draco. "She has never as much as hinted that you were dating."

"Just look at Weasley," Draco mutters. "Should be explanation enough for why she never told you."

"Doesn't prove it's true," Harry says and Draco sighs.

"Do I really have to spell everything out for you?" He is getting bored. He had hoped that the Minister would assign Hermione's case to somebody else because of the personal connection, but it seems they were kept on the case because of their vigour and well… They were war-heroes. Even years after the war they got what they wanted, Harry 'Saint' Potter especially. "Haven't you ever wondered about Hermione's change in behaviour? Leaving early, smiling a lot more, dressing up? Nothing?"

Harry and Ron look at each other. "We noticed her fear," Ron says. "Her paranoia."
Draco's face falls. "You think it's my fault." It isn't a question and he doesn't need an answer. It's written all over their faces.

"Fine. How can I convince you that I am innocent?"

"Tell us where she is," Harry says. "If you are telling the truth and you are indeed her boyfriend, you should know."
Draco runs a hand through his hair. "We had a fight that evening just like you said. I didn't know she was going to disappear. Looking back, she might even have staged the fight to stop me from noticing that she was gone for a few days, if we assume that she left willingly."
Harry nods. Draco's words make sense but he doesn't look too convinced. Maybe if it was anybody else he would have believed them, but Draco always gets the special treatment. He wishes sometimes that he had treated them better back at school, but always pushes that thought away, reminding himself that they hadn't been any better and certainly are not now. There is a reason why Hermione had never told them and he is reminded of it now more than ever.

"How did it start?" Harry asks finally and Draco sighs. He should have known that he would go down that path.

7.4.2000 23:30

It is raining and Draco is in a terrible mood as he pushes open the door to his favourite muggle bar. He had started frequenting those establishments shortly after the war, wanting to be alone and unrecognised.

He doesn't have to order and the bartender puts his gin in front of him silently. He has learned to leave Draco alone, except for the occasional refill or change of orders, shortly after Draco started coming there.

Draco nods to him in thanks and moves to his favourite corner place. He sits there for hours, sipping from his drink and contemplating life, when the door bursts open suddenly, letting in the cold wind from outside and he hears some of the patrons mutter in protest.

But he doesn't care, doesn't even bother to look up who the intruder is, and continues sipping his drink. He cherishes those nights away from everything that is his life these days and won't let anyone take them from him.

That's until he hears quiet sobs next to him. Draco turns around to send them away but stops mid-word when the woman looks up.

"Granger?" he whispers at the sight of her red eyes and she groans.

"It is just my luck to run into you," she says with defeat in her voice. "Go ahead, make fun of me."
Draco wants to say something, to insult her, but he doesn't find the words. He had seen her cry on several occasions before, but it had been different and she hadn't been anything but fierce since then.

He pushes his glass to her instead and she looks at him intensely before taking it and drinking up in one go. Draco nods to the bartender and two new glasses are placed in front of them.

"Why are you here?" she asks as she uses her sleeves to wipe away her tears.

Draco grimaces and offers her his handkerchief. "I don't ask you, you don't ask me," he says and Hermione falls silent, but takes the handkerchief and cleans her face.

They sit there for a while, drinking in silence.

She smiles at him when she leaves.

15.12.2002 23:00

"And you are telling me that it had become a regular occurrence?" Harry asks, finishing his notes on Draco's story.

Draco nods.

"It's hard to believe," Harry says. "She never drank much."

"War changes people, Potter," Draco drawls and Ron slams his hand on the table.

"That's enough," he hisses and Draco rises an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"
"I've had enough of your lies. Tell me what you have done to her! Now," he demands.

Draco looks at Harry who looks more and more tired with every passing minute.
"You should take a break, Ron," he says and Ron gapes at him.

"What are you talking about? Don't tell me you believe him!" Ron fumes and Harry sighs.

"Ron, your emotions are clouding your judgement. You are tired and temperamental and please, let me find out what he knows," Harry pleads and Ron turns red, but finally agrees.

The door barely closed behind him when Harry's face darkens. "What did you mean by that?" he asks.

"We grew up," Draco replies nonchalantly and Harry runs a hand through his hair.

"So she didn't say anything to you?" he asks.

"About what?" Draco demands. Harry could be hinting at anything, but if he is talking about what Draco thinks he is, this conversation just turned ten times more interesting.

"She believed that somebody was following her," Harry says, watching Draco like an eagle, keen on seeing his reaction. "We didn't believe her."
"But you do now. You think it was me," Draco finishes his sentence and there is no question in it. "That's why you send Weasley away. You feared he would jump me."
"Were you following her?" Harry asks quietly.

"No," Draco replies. "Why should I? She came to me because you didn't believe her."

3.6.2000 0:20

Draco sits at his usual spot in the bar all alone, sipping from his drink, but he is keeping an eye on the door just in case. Draco fears that she won't come again every time he sees her go.

When she comes in he is relieved. He has come to enjoy her company even if they don't talk. It's just good to have somebody there, somebody who understands.

He has to admit he is surprised that she is there that evening, as she doesn't usually come in on Fridays. His face falls when he notices that she's shaking.

"What's going on?" he asks, breaking the rule he had established that first night.

"Nothing," she mutters, staring into her drink and her knuckles turn white around her glass.

"Then why are you here?" Draco pushes and Hermione flashes him an angry glare.

"Since when do you care?" she asks and Draco scoffs.

"I am trying to be nice for once in my life," he hisses and Hermione shrugs.

"Go being nice somewhere else," she says and Draco's jaw clenches.

"It's the same thing like before, isn't it?" he demands and Hermione turns to face him, her finger pointed at him in accusation.

"I came here to get a drink. No more, no less," she hisses and Draco crosses his arms over his chest.

"Sure," he says and Hermione turns away once again.

"But I know that you only come here when you are upset and I assume lonely," he continues. "We might not talk but it's impossible to ignore."
Hermione snorts at that and downs her drink. "Do us both a favour and return to not talking," she says and orders another drink.

"Granger," he says. "Stop."
She doesn't react and smiles at the bartender, but it's the kind of smile that doesn't reach your eyes and Draco gets angry.

He has known this girl for 9 years and he can't remember a single time she has asked for help. Sure, they hadn't been friends, to the contrary, but everybody knew that Hermione Granger was the most independent, strong girl in the British wizarding community.

"It is okay to ask for help," he mutters and Hermione's head snaps around and she stares at him for a long while.

"Just like you asked?" she shoots back and Draco flinches.

"I have been a fool," he says. "Still am. But you aren't."

Her eyes widen at that and she turns away again. Draco runs a hand through his hair in frustration. He wants to do the right thing for once in his life but she won't let him. And he hates her for it, but he hates himself for caring more.

It's just that she doesn't judge him, doesn't hate him as far as he can tell and in times like these it's all he can ask for. Sure, it is getting better and better with the time passing by, but there are still enough people who cross the street when they see him, throwing angry glances in his direction as he passes by. More stores than he can count won't serve him and it's not rare that people act like he is air. It's better than the insults and hatred he had gotten shortly after the war, but he is tired of it anyway.

"If you don't want to talk to me, talk to Potter," he says and Hermione laughs. It's not a nice laugh – it lacks any mirth.

"I tried," she says and Draco closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath. He should have known. While she was always there for Potter and Weasley, she had been pushed away by them more than once during their school years. He knows – he had watched them closely.

"He didn't listen," he states and Hermione finishes another drink. She is getting drunker and drunker with every passing second and he doesn't blame her.

"Oh, he did," Hermione hisses. "But he didn't believe me."
Draco rises an eyebrow. "Excuse me?" he asks, but Hermione only shakes her head, swaying dangerously on the tall stool.

Draco doesn't know what to do. It seems that the bartender thinks that it's fine to let Hermione drink as much as she wants as she isn't alone and he mouths to him that it's enough. The bartender shrugs and turns away to serve another customer.

"When was it?" Draco continues questioning her and Hermione turns to glare at him. Only then, he notices the tears streaming down her face.

Draco doesn't know what to do. "I am sorry," he whispers and she glares at him.

"Shut up," she hisses and Draco looks away in shame. He is bad at dealing with feelings.

Hermione tries to order another drink, but the bartender refuses to serve her, claiming she is too drunk. She turns to Draco and pokes him into the chest with her finger really hard. He flinches.

"Who do you think you are?" she glares at him. "It's not your fucking business how much I drink! You had no right to do that!"
"Go home, Granger," he says and she reaches for his drink, finishing it too.

"No," she says and slams the empty glass on the counter. "I am simply going somewhere else where the personnel will serve me and there are no nosy prats."
She tries to stand up, but sways dangerously and Draco catches her. He is fuming, but he tries to control himself.

He supports Hermione, who is trying to wriggle away but can barely stand on her own, with one hand while he pays for their drinks, before dragging her out of the bar.

"Where do you live?" he asks, wishing for nothing more than to dump her in her bed and get the hell away. A drunk, emotional Granger is too much for him to handle.

"I am not going home," she says and tries to get away once more.

"You need to sleep and sober up," he hisses.

"But I don't want to go home," she whispers and starts crying again.

Draco groans. The evening is getting worse and worse and he knows he couldn't forgive himself if he let anything happen to the woman in his arms. She had been through too much already. He hates himself for the idea, but it's the only solution that comes to his mind.

"Would you be willing to sleep somewhere else?" he asks and Hermione looks up.

"Where?"

"At my place?" he suggests and she frowns, but the sobs die down.

"Why would I want to go home with you?" she sounds outraged and Draco sighs.

"Not that way. You can have my bed. I'll sleep on the couch. But you are drunk and emotional and certainly not able to take care of yourself. As you don't want to go home or to Weasley or Potter it leaves me with no choice."
Hermione hesitates for a moment, but nods finally.

"But you stay away from me!" she says and Draco rolls his eyes and apparates them to his flat.

The next morning is awkward.

He is already awake when she comes out of his room, sitting on the couch reading.

"Morning," he says and Hermione replies awkwardly, looking everywhere but at him.

"There's toast in the kitchen if you want any," he tries again and Hermione shakes her head, hundreds of excuses at the tip of her tongue.

"Granger, wait," Draco puts his book away and stands up.

Hermione turns around, her hand already on the handle of the door and looks at him expectantly.

"You don't have to tell me what's wrong, but if you don't want to spend the night at your place again, you can sleep here."
She mumbles a quiet thanks and is gone.

It is the fourth time she has taken him on his offer, buying his drinks as a way to thank him when she finally explains.

"Somebody is watching me," she whispers and Draco nearly chokes on his whiskey.

"I told Harry and Ron but they believe I am imagining it. Effects of the war and all that. Just because they are Aurors and weren't able to confirm my suspicion, they think I am crazy. Ron called me a shrink once."

Draco's glass cracks in his hand and he scowls at it before wiping his hand clean on his trousers.

"Do you know who is watching you?" he asks, his voice cold as ice. He can't believe her friends. He knows damn well that she had been the sole reason they had survived the war, her instincts being sharpened by it beyond measure. It made sense that she saw what they didn't.

He doesn't even consider the possibility that she is imagining it, not after he saw her withstand his aunt.

"An ex," she whispers, her head bowed in shame and Draco wants to throw something against the wall. He had been a lot of things in his life, most of them bad, and had done so many unforgivable deeds, but he would never dare to hurt a woman like that. His mother had seen to that.

"What's his name?" he hisses and Hermione looks at him.

"I won't tell you," she says firmly and Draco pinches the back of his nose. It seems Hermione has guessed that he would go after the man the second she told him.

"Fine," he mutters. "But if you know he is there, you come to me."
"No," Hermione says flatly and Draco can't believe her pride. But on the other hand, Pansy had been the same before the incident happened.

16.12.2002 00:00

They are disturbed by Ron's return and Draco stops talking.

Ron looks between them and motions to Harry to follow him outside. Draco watches them talk animatedly through the glass. Ron says something that makes Harry grimace and he leaves. Ron looks after him for a moment before walking back into the interrogation room.

"Malfoy," he mutters and sits down.

"Weasley," Draco replies and they stare each other.

"No matter what you told him, I don't believe you," Ron says finally and Draco frowns.

"Like you didn't believe her?" he hisses and Ron's ears turn red.

"Shut up!" he shouts and Draco leans back into his chair, smirking.

"I bet you make an excellent Auror," he drawls and Ron's hands begin to tremble with rage ever so slightly. It had always been too easy to rile him up. Draco wonders how much more it would take to make him explode and be removed from his presence, when he gets an idea.

"How long did you date?" Draco asks nonchalantly and Ron frowns.

"None of your business," he says.

"I was always wondering if it was you, who took her virginity. She wouldn't tell me, you know," Draco drawls and watches with amusement as Ron's face turns redder and redder.

"Was it you who taught her to kneel at one's feet and beg for things she didn't want? Was it you? Was it you who told her that her brain was worthless without good looks and sexual favours?"

Ron jumps up and slams his hands onto the table, knocking over the chair in the process. "Don't you dare talk about her like that!" he shouts and Draco looks at him blankly.

"So it was that bastard," he says calmly, but is raging inside. He doesn't know yet what he will do if he ever gets his hands on that damned man, but it won't be nice. "Explains quite a lot. He used her, he manipulated her, and he isn't willing to let her go."

Ron blinks a few times before sinking back into the other chair. "What are you talking about?" he asks.

"Her ex," Draco says. "She never told me his name and I didn't manage to find out. But from what I gathered, he was the manipulative sort. Started like a really nice guy who didn't care she was a heroine and muggleborn and then tried to break her. Luckily, Hermione managed to see it and left him. He started stalking her afterwards, trying to make her break and return to him."

Ron stares at Draco, horror written all over his face.

"What's his name?" Draco asks. "Tell me his name so I can take care of this mess!"

Ron swallows. "I still don't believe you," he says, but his voice is shaking and Draco's shoulders sack. He had been trying to get the name out of Hermione for years now and even her friends aren't willing to share it.

"Then at least go after him," Draco demands, not caring how desperate he sounds. He had planned this whole thing to finally solve the issue, but it is not going like he had hoped.

"Does he know where Hermione is?" Ron asks and Draco shakes his head.

"But you do," Ron exclaims in victory and Draco grimaces.

"I don't. I simply doubt he will be able to find her if neither the Ministry nor me managed it."

Ron glares at him and is about to say something when the door opens again and Harry enters.

"Did he tell you anything?" he asks and Ron hesitates for a split second before shaking his head. Harry sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

He glances at Draco, who is deliberately staring back, and at the chair that is still lying in the corner of the room.

"Maybe we should end it for today," he says. "But we are not letting you go," he turns to Draco and motions for him to stand.

Draco obliges and follows Harry down the corridor leading to the cells where the suspects are held while the investigation continues. Draco knows these cells well and braces himself before entering. He had hoped to never see them again, but he is willing to spend a night there if it means helping Hermione.

They leave and Draco lies down. It's not like he has anything better to do and it is late.

He lies there with his eyes open for a long while, thinking about Hermione, before he falls into a restless sleep. He dreams of blood and screams, the woman he loves in the centre of it all.