Nymphetamine pt 4

The week was a blur of shakes and illusions and avoiding Granger as if she were the plague. His revelation still didn't sit well with him, and he blamed his drugged up state for the thoughts of her in his head. He paced around his room, being an extra at Hogwarts had its perks; each student got their own room since there were so few of them. He felt pricking under his skin, it was driving him insane. He walked over to his trunk, fumbling around with shaking hands, looking for his elixir. He found the bottle, but to his dismay, it was empty. He threw the bottle in frustration, the glass shattering on the wall.

"Fuck!" He yelled to himself, scratching his arms. He needed to get more. That much he knew. But how? He couldn't leave until morning to get to Diagon Alley. He would just have to ride this out until then, he decided. But it felt as if worms were wriggling underneath his skin; he couldn't sit still. He walked towards the door, deciding to go for a walk to try to calm himself. He walked down the quiet, empty hallway, his footsteps echoing behind him. He took in the scenery, desperately trying to distract himself. Portraits could be heard snoring, he ignored them and kept on his path, unaware of where it would lead him. He happened upon a door, it wasn't a classroom. Curiosity got the better of him and he pushed it open. It was an empty stone room, with nothing but a mirror in it. He scoffed, approaching the beautiful mirror and looking into his reflection. He really did look terrible, he thought to himself. His appearance was almost skeletal, black circles around his eyes. He was about to turn away when something moved in the mirror. He quickly looked behind him, but no one was there. He turned back to the mirror, laughing to himself for being paranoid, when all of a sudden the image in the mirror changed. His breath hitched into his throat. It was no longer his reflection looking at him; it was an image of him, holding a woman in his arms. Not just any woman, he was holding Hermione Granger. His mirror self leaned in to kiss her, and at that he turned away. He couldn't stomach looking at it any longer. He wasn't in love with Granger, he kept telling himself, and even if he was, she would never love him back. He was an ex death eater with a drug problem, although he would never admit the latter to himself. He stole one more look at the mirror, his lips plastered to Granger's in the most romantic way he could imagine. He couldn't do it anymore, he felt the tears well up in his eyes and he ran from the room, two salty streaks running down his cheeks.


Hermione couldn't sleep. She had so much on her mind. The week flew by in a blur, her thoughts still focused on the incident from the train. She studied Malfoy during classes, the way he shook and scratched at his arms…it didn't make sense. It was almost as if he was withdrawing from muggle drugs. But did they have such a thing in the wizarding world? Malfoy certainly wouldn't travel to the muggle world to get drugs, was there some sort of new wizarding drug or potion he had been taking? And if so…why? She found she ran into more questions than answers, and they made her brain hurt. After a few hours of lying awake in her room, she decided she wasn't sleeping any time soon and decided to go for a walk. She pulled on her shoes and a sweatshirt and headed out her door, deciding she would go sit by the lake. As the doors to the grounds opened she felt a gust of autumn air hit her face, a feeling that was calming and alarming all at the same time. She walked down the steps and towards the lake when an image stopped her in her tracks. There he sat, shaking like a wet dog, by the lake. She took a deep breath and walked forward, hoping to get some answers. Her heart began to thud in her ears as she got closer and closer. She was mere feet behind him when she realized, and a sickening feeling settled into her stomach, that he was sobbing.

"M…Malfoy?" She softly stuttered, trying to sound strong. His head shot up, turning to her. He looked a mess, hair drenched in sweat, eyes, red and sunken into his skull. 'But not dilated' she made a note to herself. With shaking hands, he tried to tidy himself up.

"Wha…what do you want, Granger?" He said, his voice shaking. "Leave me be." She shook her head, her heart fluttering.

"Couldn't sleep, so I came out here. It's not like I was looking for you." She snapped, her voice stronger. He sniffed loudly, turning back to the lake. "Do you mind if I sit?" She asked. He shook his head in response. She sat next to him, the moon illuminating the lake, creating a beautiful scene. She wasn't sure what to say, so she sat silently for a moment, thinking of the right words to use.

"Something strange is going on." She decided to just rush in head first. "With you…I mean." Draco stiffened, her words cutting into him like a knife. He bitterly laughed to himself, putting his head in his hands.


"You know, Potter isn't the only one effected by the war." He began to shake violently again, clawing at his scalp. "Some of us have wounds too deep to heal." She nodded her head, looking at the sorry excuse of a Malfoy in front of her.

"Have you tried to heal?" Again he laughed. Was he really having this conversation with Hermione Granger of all people?

"I guess you could call it that. But potions won't bring back Crabbe…or anyone else for that matter. They can distract you for a short while…" He began to feel the lump returning in his throat at the thought of Crabbe, and more tears began to spill out of his eyes. He couldn't contain it anymore, he openly sobbed. "T…they only help…then you run out and you…you feel like you are going to die. The guilt is too much…I…I can't…" He didn't know what compelled him to take his next action, but he needed to feel something other than the worms under his skin. He wrapped his arms around Hermione, burying his face into her shoulder, shaking and sobbing. After a moment he felt her arms wrap around his shoulders, and he relaxed a bit. He could feel her pulse on his face, it was racing just like his own, in synch. They sat silently for a moment in this position, the moonlight illuminating their milky figures.

"What potions have you been taking…Draco?" She asked, his name feeling strange rolling off her tongue. She felt something she never thought she would feel for the man currently crying into her shoulder, she felt compassion…pity. She never thought about how the war affected him from the other side of the spectrum, even if he did renounce his death eater status at the very end and fought on their side. Draco swallowed a few times.

"It…it helps with the guilt…but I ran out and couldn't sleep and…then that mirror…" He rambled into her shoulder. She pulled back, looking him in his dead eyes.

"Mirror? What Mirror?" She asked. Draco thought for a moment, the images it sent.

"It showed me…things. It showed me you." He blurted, not thinking his actions through. He pulled back, his eyes growing wide in panic. He stood, stepping away from her.

"Draco…what did it show you?" She asked, her voice ghosting through his ears. He did the one thing he could think of in the moment, he turned and ran away as fast as he could, leaving a confused Hermione in his wake.