Thanks for the reviews! And for the support.

Here's a little tidbit about addiction/alcoholism: it's actually a brain disease and it's the only disease that tries to convince you that you don't have a disease. And what pisses me off about television these days is that alcoholics and addicts are demonized. It's not that they WON'T stop, it's that they CAN'T stop unless they get the proper help. Anyway, sorry about that.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does.

Chapter Two

It's All My Fault

Hermione was up late with the adoption papers laid out on her desk in her office. The clock on the wall read "2:34". Harry had offered to stay up much later with her and help but she insisted he went to sleep two hours ago as he had to go into work early the next morning. She gave a long yawn and set her pen down on the desk, leaning back in her chair. She needed some sleep.

Just as she pinched the bridge of her nose, she heard a cry from down the hall. "No!" Grabbing her wand from the top of the desk, she sprang into action, running down the hallway toward the sound of the noise. It came from Harry's room.

"No! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Hermione threw the door open. Her best friend was thrashing around in bed. His t-shirt was soaked with sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead.

"Harry! Harry!" she called, trying to wake him up. She ran to his side, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him. "It's okay! It's just a nightmare. It's only a nightmare. You're safe."

Harry's eyes snapped open and he gasped for air, beginning to hyperventilate. "Calm down. Slow your breathing." Hermione placed her arms around his shoulders, holding him to her body. "It's okay. It's over."

"Hermione...?" His mouth was dry. He had drank again the night before, causing himself to pass out in his bed. The empty vodka bottle on his bedside table, tipped over.

"It's me. I've got you."

Harry curled himself up in her arms, wanting to drown in them. During that moment, Hermione was reminded of that eleven-year-old boy she met on the Hogwarts Express their first year. Her heart broke into a million pieces. She wanted to protect him from all of his ailments and worries. "Did...did I wake Teddy?"

"I don't think so. You know he's a sound sleeper," Hermione answered, reassuring him. She knew he hated being a burden and waking people up, especially those he cared about.

Harry sobbed into her chest, wetting her shirt. But she didn't care. "It's okay, Harry. I get them, too. Lots of them."

"I have dreams about things that don't even happen. Nightmares of you and Teddy dying. I won't let that happen, Hermione. I won't." Her heart broke for him. She knew Harry's wounds weren't visible. She wished she could take the pain away.

"I hate this."

"What?"

"Feeling like this." He moved his tongue around his mouth, trying to get rid of the dryness so he could talk properly. "I hate feeling like this. This guilt. It's eating me up by the mouthful."

"I know. Occasionally, I feel it, too. But you have to understand that you did everything you could to find him."

"Not enough. He's still out there. He's still at large. Who knows who his next victim will be? I have to find him, Hermione. I have to."

"And you will. You're a great Auror. One of the best." She kissed the side of his head.

"I promise you, Hermione. I promise on my parents' grave-on Andromeda's grave-I will find him."

Hermione stayed with him that night. She curled up next to him on the bed and held him as he fell asleep to the sound of her heartbeat. She, in turn, fell asleep to the sound of his breathing.

Hermione woke up in an unfamiliar room to the sound of the door opening. 'Harry's room' she thought to herself remembering last night. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she looked at the doorway and saw her godson standing there. His hair-blue today-unkempt and his mouth open in a yawn. The spot next to her on the bed was empty. Harry must have already went to work.

"There you are, Mummy! Why are you in Daddy's room?" Teddy asked curiously.

"Daddy was scared last night so I stayed with him," she answered, matching his yawn.

"Daddy gets scared?"

"Yep, sweetheart. Even Daddy gets scared sometimes. He needs people like me and you to protect him. You want some breakfast?"

He nodded vigorously and led her down the stairs to the kitchen where she poured him a bowl of cereal and started making some coffee.

"Am I adopted yet?" the little boy asked as she sat down with her own bowl and a cup of coffee.

"Not yet, darling. I was working on the paperwork last night. But...almost. I'll finish later and file it tomorrow."

"Yes!" he cried out enthusiastically, a large grin on his face. Soon, a curious look donned it. "Does that mean you and Daddy are going to get married?"

Hermione nearly choked on her cereal and had to take a swig of her coffee to wash it down. Her face turned red at the idea of marrying her best friend, who just so happened to be the man that she loved. "What makes you think that?"

"Well, don't mummies and daddies get married?"

Teddy's reasoning was a bit cute but she said, "Well, we're not in love, Teddy. Only people who are in love get married. But you know what?"

"What?"

"We both love you very much and that's what matters and we're happy to call you our son."

That seemed to appease the little boy and he didn't say anything else until after breakfast. But he gave something for Hermione to think about that morning: the idea of being married to Harry.

He would make a great husband. He already made a great father. She imagined living in this house with Teddy and three other children. Their own. A girl with messy black hair and brown eyes. Twin boys with brown hair and green eyes. She blushed furiously as she imagined their wedding night. What it might be like to lie beneath him as he made love to her.

"You're thinking about it, aren't you? Being married to Daddy?" her godson's voice snapped her out of her daydreaming.

"Auror Potter, I have those files you wanted," Draco said walking in with a folder of papers in his hand. He set them on Harry's desk.

"Thanks, Draco. And you can call me 'Harry' when we're at work." His fingers drummed on the desk as he opened the folder, eager to learn about the latest report on Belial Halvor. He frowned. Nothing useful. "Fuck."

"Don't worry, Harry. You'll find him."

"A woman's dead because of me, Draco."

"It wasn't-"

"-my fault. I know. I keep hearing that. Doesn't mean I believe it." He looked away and he flicked his hand, wandlessly sending the files to the rest in the Belial Halvor case. He stood up. "I'm off to the loo."

A lie.

He needed a drink. "Going to the loo" is what he called it. He wondered if people thought he had a bladder problem. But he needed to concentrate and he couldn't focus if his mind was pining for just a sip.

"I better get back to work." His colleague left his office, going right.

Harry went left towards the loo. His hands itching towards the flask in his robe pocket. He opened the door. Empty. Good. He took the flask out, unscrewed it, and knocked it back into his mouth. His sweet, burning nectar. He shook his head, clearing it. That'll last for a while. It'll keep his monster at bay. Pocketing the flask, he cast a breath-refreshing spell on his mouth to hide the whiskey smell and walked out.

He refused to look at himself in the mirror as he walked out. Not after seeing how awful he looked yesterday. He didn't want to see the asshole staring back at him. Didn't want to take a good look at who he had become.

"Harry! There you are!" he heard from down the hall. A flash of red hair was hurrying toward him. Ron. His Auror partner. "There's been another attack!"

"Is it-?"

"Halvor? We think it might be."

Harry rushed into action, following his other best friend toward the front of the Ministry to the Floos. Finally, a lead on this monster.

Hermione was called in after she had showered. There had been another attack in Diagon Alley. No doubt Harry had been called to the scene. She took Teddy to St. Mungo's daycare and rushed to casualty. Sixteen victims had been brought in bleeding profusely.

Healer Locksley, her superior, pointed to the healers who should cover who. Hermione went to a woman who looked to be in her thirties. "Where's Sam?" she cried out. "Where's my husband?"

"It's okay. I'm going to get you fixed up right now," she reassured her. The woman was bleeding from her abdomen. She waved her wand for the blood clotting spell. "What's your name?"

"N-Natalie."

"Okay, Natalie. I'm going to give you a Numbing potion so the pain will go away." The other woman nodded as Hermione tipped a vial into her mouth. A little fell down her lip but it began to work immediately.

"Where's Sam?" Natalie asked again.

"I'm right here, Natalie. I'm getting fixed up, too," said a male voice behind the Healer. It was a man about the same age as Hermione's patient. He had a large cut on his shoulder. He didn't look as bad as she did. "I'm so sorry, Nat." He was crying. "I tried. I tried to cover you as soon as I heard the blast."

"Sam...Oh, Sam. It's okay." She started crying, too. "It's okay. I'm fine. We're both fine. It wasn't your fault."

Hermione's heart tugged as she began cleaning up the blood on her patient. "It wasn't your fault." It was a phrase she was familiar with. All too familiar. She saw herself in Natalie and Harry in Sam.

Andromeda. It wasn't her fault.

It wasn't Harry's fault.

It was Belial Halvor's.

"What happened?" Harry asked Florean Fortescue, the ice cream parlor owner, who had sent the fire message for help. Rubble was everywhere, dust was still trying to settle. Bodies littered the ground. There must have been about twenty of them. Harry's heart dropped. He hated this part of his job. This was why he wanted to become an Auror. To prevent this.

"There must have been about eight of them," the ice cream man answered. "Shooting all kinds of spells all over the place. Killing Curses, bomb spells. It all happened so fast. They didn't stand a chance."

Harry commanded his team to spread out and look for any signs of who had done this massacre. Even though he had an idea who was responsible. Was it possible Belial Halvor had amassed followers?

His hand began to shake. Withdrawal symptoms again. He looked around at his surroundings. Seeing no one watching him, he went into a side alley and took a drink of his whiskey. Just a small one. A tiny sip. His shaking receded and he was back to normal. Coming out of the alley, Ron came running up to him.

"Harry! Harry! We found something!"

He followed Ron to another alley on the other side of Florean's ice cream parlor. Harry gasped at what he saw on the wall.

"Fucking hell," he said.

Written in what looked like blood were the words, "It's all your fault."

Harry had no doubt who the message was for.

Even though he just had a sip, he needed a fucking bottle to drink.

TBC...

Well, there's chapter two. Sorry about the long wait.

Pleez review!

DREWHHR