Warnings: Not too much to warn against this time. Chapter edited 11/23/18.

"We will contact the Weasley's immediately."

Draco didn't react when McGonagall spoke, his eyes sweeping the trio in front of him instead. Weaselette sat directly beside Hermione, head bowed as she listened quietly in her seat. She lacked any kick these days, as though all hope had been dashed from her. He at least expected a fight, much more than what she actually gave. Thinking back he tried to find the same fire in her from before. Even when Granger broke down and told her the news, she lacked the anger he was so accustomed to.

"Ron wouldn't do that! Not to you, not to us! He knows!" She fell forward, Potter catching her from behind before she could hit the ground. "He knows what it will do to mum and dad!"

Hermione crouched down beside her, one hand ghosting over Ginny's trembling fingers. "I don't think Ron knows much of anything anymore."

She did more crying than arguing. Given that this was her flesh and blood Granger was destroying, he thought she might be angrier. Maybe she knew all along, or maybe she just no longer had the energy to fight her demons.

Potter reached forward, gripping the back of her seat with one hand. He looked white-washed, his skin so much paler than usual. The boy who lived looked sickly and worn thin, like he did in the weeks leading to war. Now it hinged on his best friend, someone he put his trust into for years, and his ultimate undoing.

"We will have your parents come to the school Ms. Weasley," the Headmistress continued more gently, patting the girl's placid hands where they rested on her desk. "This is a matter to be addressed only in person." Her eyes wavered, glancing between the three other individuals in her office. "The Ministry will not miss it when Mr. Weasley is asked to leave Hogwarts. Under these circumstances, he is better off in a rehabilitation facility than in a classroom without restraint. You will all need to be here to testify against the allocations of Ms. Granger. I do not think that Arthur and Molly will take the news lightly."

"Thank you Headmistress," Hermione muttered, her voice no more than a whisper. Ever since she told McGonagall her story, she'd grown very quiet. Weaselette was one thing, but this took something else out of her. Her lips quivered, and she seemed to be on the verge of saying something else, but she pressed them into a thin line instead and remained silent.

"I will let Mr. and Mrs. Weasley know effective immediately that we need an audience with them here at Hogwarts," she continued, looking towards each of them in turn. "You will not breathe a word of this to the other students. What Mr. Weasley has done since the war is inexcusable, but he did serve in the war and he is a hero. There's no need to drag him through the dirt. His actions will do that on their own."

The ginger woman flinched, and Draco watched Potter place a protective hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. McGonagall seemed unraveled by the news, and he could see it tearing her apart at the seams. This was yet another thing to add to her endless list of issues, and it was wearing her down. Her crass attitude more than exemplified that.

The Headmistress said something he missed, and Weasley was out of her chair before she finished speaking, heading towards the exit. Potter followed in her wake as she left, concerned eyes flinting between his girlfriend and Granger. The latter waved him off, casting him an unconvincing smile. As she rose, McGonagall cleared her throat.

"Ms. Granger, another moment please?"

Draco paused, halfway to the door. He'd remained quiet throughout this exchange, and although she didn't address him he didn't feel prompted to leave either. As she sat back down Minerva sighed, gesturing to his lean form.

"You too Mr. Malfoy."

Taking the seat Weasley abandoned, he settled into the first chair he'd been offered since arriving. McGonagall glanced between the pair, her expression torn.

"I did not wish to disclose this while Ms. Weasley was present," she began, sitting back heavily in her seat, "though I expect she already knows, or at the very least suspects. With the allocations you've mentioned regarding Mr. Weasley-"

"Ron," Hermione broke in, her hands tightening on the desk. Throughout the conversation she'd kept her cool, but now she seemed to be breaking. "Just Ron Headmistress, please. He's just Ron, even now."

"Ron then. Because of what you've told me about what's going on, the Ministry may become involved once word spreads. I care for him you see, but I cannot allow him to stay on school grounds after he's harmed another student, and while he remains a danger to others and himself. I wonder now if some of the other troubled souls have found their way to the caravans as well."

Hermione snuck a glance his direction, but he ignored it. There was no way he'd bring anything up.

"Speaking of, that will also cause a problem with Hogsmeade visitation. I cannot allow students to meander there when something so tempting and troubling lies within their reach. I'm ashamed to admit nothing was done about the caravans before. Hogsmeade is responsible for regulating visitors, not the school. I can't imagine why they'd let such a vile drug continue to be sold within their city limits."

"And what of the of age students?" he cut in, arching an eyebrow. "Those of us old enough to make our own choices regarding Hogsmeade won't be as easily controlled as the younger students."

"They still go to this school Mr. Malfoy, of age or not," McGonagall said, her tone holding no amusement. "If these students - yourself included - intend to keep it that way they will follow the enforced laws until the caravans and their products are out of Hogsmeade. We've never had such a problem before, and certainly not one so pronounced. Visitation will be prohibited until further notice. As Heads, I expect you to enforce this rule. Travel out of Hogwarts is suspended."

Draco felt his lip twitch, but he kept his cool. He couldn't rightly tell the Headmistress Hogsmeade was where he got his good gin during the school year.

"You'll make an announcement then?" Hermione asked dully, and his heart hurt from the detachment in her voice. She was so broken moments ago, and now she was steeling herself against the hurt and putting on a professional front. She didn't need to do that. McGonagall seemed to pick up on her unease and leaned forward as well.

"How are you doing dear?" she asked, her expression softening as she changed topics. "I wanted to ask M- Ginny and Harry, but she seemed to be in quite a rush to leave. This must be heartbreaking for her, just as I expect it is for all of you." Her eyes glanced in his direction, as though she knew the outlier in this matter.

"I'll recover," she said simply, and McGonagall seemed surprised by her sudden coldness. "There's nothing much to be done now. We're going to have to repeat the story again under the truth serum if the Ministry is involved, and knowing Molly she'll want it testified. She'll side with her son before she sides with me."

Minerva's gaze grew sympathetic, the lines in her face softening. "There are people on both sides of this battle. It's hard to accept that someone you care about has a problem. You did the right thing by telling me. The issue will be addressed immediately. I cannot have M- Ron wandering the halls if this is how his behavior is now. I'll be handling it tonight."

Hermione nodded, her gaze vacant as McGonagall told her a few more tedious tidbits. Draco zoned out, bored again by the conversation. He was here mostly for moral support and to verify Hermione's accounts. The headmistress didn't seem terribly interested in speaking with him.

He followed Hermione out shortly after, his mind muddy as he watched her head bob ahead of him, her rushed movements carrying her down the hallway. He'd barely entered the corridor, wondering what the hell he should tell Theo, when a hand fell upon his shoulder. Glancing back, he saw McGonagall's patient face close to his.

"You should've told me when you first found out Mr. Malfoy," she said, her eyes glaring down the hallway towards Hermione's retreating form. "I'm disappointed you did not step forward."

Draco shrugged, letting her chastising words roll right off him. He didn't much care what she thought, not when she was his teacher and not now. "It's her war. I found out by accident. You should be happy I know anything at all. She might not have spoken up otherwise, and Weasley would keep killing himself with those drugs."

"Be that as it may," Minerva spat, shaking her head at him, "You should've told me from the start. The emotional damage left behind will long outlive the physical. The more time she spent in Mr. Weasley's influence, and the longer he was able to keep getting high, the more drawn out the after effects will be."

"I understand-"

"You should take this to heart," she continued, nodding her head. "Mr. Nott will have similar difficulties when the truth comes to light."

His mouth dried at that, the surprise that she knew anything about Theo slamming into him as the biggest unexpected turn of events today. It'd been three days since Granger started revealing the truth of her situation, and now everything came together when she admitted it to the Headmistress. To be honest he hadn't thought much of his friend in the past days, so focused on his own turmoil's that he left Blaise to watch their friend. Maybe he should've cared more.

"And your father says hello," she continued, no malice in her voice. He expected more retorts about Theo, his condition similar to Weasley's in too many ways. But instead she bowed her head and set her gaze upon him briefly – was that a look of pity? – just before she turned back towards her office.

He watched her go, wondering how she knew about Theo. And more worryingly, what his father could possibly want.

Bruises. There are always bruises.

He balled his hands up, looking at the girl in front of him. Bleeding, broken. How the hell did things get so far?

The ground reflected like a mirror, and even with her head bowed he could see the bruises beneath her eyes. Fuck, how long at those been there?

He twitched, keeping his distance even as he watched another figure appear. Ginger. This had to be Weasley.

Draco attempted to step forward, but his limps wouldn't go. He couldn't make anything move actually. He watched from afar, his world blurring as the brute raised his hand, striking out at the girl in front of him. He'd recognized her long ago.

Weasley stepped back when she crumbled, his leg jutting out to attack the tender skin of her sides, the sound of bone breaking –

Draco jerked awake in his bed, tossing whatever he'd set on the edge earlier that night onto the floor. Bloody hell, since when did he get nightmares about her? This was never a problem before.

He collapsed back onto the sheets, cringing at the wet sensation beneath his skin. Apparently he was troubled enough to sweat too. What, he spoke with McGonagall and now suddenly he feels guilty for not doing more for her? Since when did he care so damn much?

Theo buzzed through his mind, and he swore as he rolled over. One ridiculous fucking problem at a time.

He buried his head into the pillow, willing himself back to sleep. He was starting to fade when something woke him, the sound of a door cracking open. He flipped over and shot wide awake, reaching for his wand. In one quick breath the room was lit.

Granger stared back at him, clad in her nightclothes – which appeared just as sticky as his own. She was crouched in front of a cabinet, caught in the act as she withdrew a bottle. Maybe he should be mad, but given the situation he couldn't quite muster up any anger.

It was almost funny. He had to fight off a grin at the absurdity of it all as he focused on her.

"You're searching my liquor cabinet?"

"I believe this one is gin," she croaked, straightening quickly. She didn't drop the bottle in her grasp, instead fisting the neck tighter in her hands. "I thought you'd notice me the first time you woke. I'm not stealing it mind you."

Crap. She was there moments ago? How long was he really lying on his stomach anyway? It was strange that he hadn't noticed his bedroom door opening, and stranger still that she just invited herself in to go crawling through his cabinet. How did she even know which one to check?

Apparently, more of his surprise shone on his face than he expected, and she hopped nervously from foot to foot as she responded. "Your doors locked, good spell too. You should probably apply the same one to the bathroom door."

Of course, the cabinet was a few short steps from the bathroom. "And you just invited yourself in and looked around?"

"I saw it before," she admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head in the dim light. "I came over once and shut the door when Ron was in my room. I thought it'd just make things worse if he came crawling through here; he was mad enough that day. The cabinet was open at the time."

Draco turned and waved his wand, lighting the room properly. Now he could see the tear tracks on her cheeks, the redness of her eyes. She wore surprisingly short shorts to sleep, and he wondered if it made her uncomfortable now having him so close.

Why did he care?

"You've been crying," he said instead, hoping to throw as much attention off himself as possible. If she noticed the dampness of his sheets she'd begin wondering, and that's the last thing he needed.

Hermione brushed at her cheeks, unable to look away from him. "Yes well, sometimes that happens."

"Not Weasley again?"

She chuckled, but it came out as more of a croak. Her other hand moved to grip the neck of the bottle once more, holding on for dear life. "You know it is."

He sighed and leaned back in his bed, tossing his wand away from him. "You've got to stop feeling bad about it."

"I'm trying to," she muttered, indicating to the bottle. He shook his head, disappointment echoing through his head.

"And you think the best way to cope is drinking alone?"

She smiled at him, a shy little look as she glanced away from him towards the opposite corner. "You're one to talk." She bit her lip before speaking again, her gaze turning towards the floor. "I… I don't usually. I don't drink at all honestly."

"I don't believe that," he scoffed, shaking his head. "You've had more to drink the past two weeks than you seem to for the last two years."

"That's true."

He nodded her over, wondering if he somehow smacked his head when he woke up. He reached for two glasses on the lower half of his table, setting them neatly on the top as she appeared beside him, ignoring the judgmental look she gave him. He filled both glasses to the brim, shoving one into her hand before she could protest and walk off.

"You shouldn't form a habit Granger," he said, smirking when she crinkled her nose. "You'll get hooked."

"I will not," she protested, lifting her nose. "I can't let myself. Besides, there's no way I could be as bad as you."

He frowned, the sadness in her voice overwhelming everything else, even her snarky remark. She sat tentatively on the edge of his bed like she was afraid to actually be comfortable, and he forced his eyebrows to remain where they were as he studied her. Looking surprised wouldn't make things better right now, maybe just more awkward. She was so hesitant to sit down, and he'd really hate to chase her off.

"What time is it?" he grunted, glancing at his clock.

"Just past two," she muttered, gripping her glass tightly. "I couldn't… sleep."

Despite himself Draco narrowed his eyes, taking a large swig of his drink. It burned going down and he welcomed the distraction. His voice came out rougher than he expected when he spoke again. "Nightmares?"

"Would explain the tears wouldn't it?" she asked, forcing a smile. She tipped the drink back and took a sip, gagging at the taste before handing it back.

"Strong?"

She nodded, making a face. "Absolute shite."

He laughed, setting aside his own. "You get used to it."

"Does that mean I'm going to end up a drinking idiot like you?" she asked teasingly, shifting slightly further onto the mattress.

He was stunned to feel some sort of pleased sensation that she was beginning to relax. "I'm an idiot Granger? Do you even remember yourself when you're drunk?"

"It's bloody pathetic," she muttered, dropping her gaze. "All that bloody skipping."

"You only skipped once," he recalled, "and it was to the couch to pass out. I'm surprised you remembered that detail. I was referring to all the insistent talking. What was my favorite? Something about whiny-"

She covered her ears, cheeks burning red at the memory. "Don't remind me."

"You're kind of adorable when you drink," he continued, watching the blush seep down her neck and into her chest, her embarrassment growing. "Mindless and adorable."

"I'm not mindless!"

"Hmm," he said, inspecting her, "I suppose you aren't. It did help you to tell Weasley off, so I suppose I can let you off on that one."

She laughed, and for a moment she looked like a younger version of herself, younger and not so weighed down by everything in life. Then she seemed to catch herself and the happiness disappeared, suffocated again by her sadness. She fingered the edge his blanket, unable to meet his eyes.

"Molly and Arthur come tomorrow," she muttered, shaking her head. "McGonagall sent me an owl about it to confirm the time. She let them know it's an emergency. Ron doesn't know yet, but he'll throw a fit."

"He always throws a fit Granger."

"But his parents are coming," she stressed, wringing her hands. "Ginny is beside herself. She's so upset about everything and it's crushing her. And if Ron gets wind of it beforehand he'll absolutely flip. I-I don't know what he would do."

"You just told me it's two in the morning. I doubt he'll hear about it before the meeting, especially if Weaselette keeps her mouth shut. She's the only one likely to blab anything anyway to him, and that's just due to guilt."

"Still, if he hears-"

"If he hears there isn't much he can do about it," Draco argued, pinching the bridge of his nose. "He can't get back at you now that people know. And he certainly can't get you alone. You're schedule is booked tomorrow morning with classes; he won't have a chance to catch you alone before the meeting, and you're smart enough not to give him an opening anyway."

She didn't relax as he had hoped. Instead she hopped off the bed and straightened her back, putting on a brave face. "I'm not scared of Ron."

"The tremble in your voice says otherwise."

She pressed her lips together, something resting on the tip of her tongue. He wished she'd just come out and say whatever was bothering her, but she kept holding back. Reaching for her drink she retreated back towards the bathroom door, staring into the liquid.

"We have block classes tomorrow. I'll have classes with you until lunch."

"Yes."

"The meetings a quarter 'til eleven. Right towards the end of fourth class." She shifted uncomfortably, her eyes searching out the details of his room. "I was asked to not attend. McGonagall changed her mind. Having me there, Molly will flip-"

"She's going to lose it on her son," he corrected, narrowing his eyes. "I'm sure she's sensible enough even for a Weasley. She's sure to see the truth in the matter."

"I don't think she will," Hermione sighed, brushing at her tangled hair. "She's broken these days, not so much as Ginny, but broken enough. Too much has happened to their family. There's no telling how she'll react. Arthur, he can be reasoned with, and he's in a much more sensible head space than Ron's mum." She shook her head again, wavering on her feet. "I just don't know."

"Worrying about it in the dead of night won't change a bloody thing," he grunted, taking a sip from his glass. "And drinking at this hour won't help things either."

"Aren't you drinking?"

He waved a hand. "That's completely different. No matter what you do you're going to be tense Hermione. You may as well accept that for the night. You won't get a wink of sleep worrying this way."

"I can't sleep," she agreed, turning her eyes back to his again. They were watering, and he cursed himself for not noticing before the waterworks began. It was all too much for two in the bleeding morning. She started wandering back towards him, practically throwing her drink onto the dresser as she walked. "Molly is going to blame me Draco, I know it. If I-I had succeeded curbing the addiction, that's one thing. But I didn't. All my placebo's only worked for so long and when I got weighed down by time and guilt I couldn't keep producing them fast enough to keep up with his intake. When I couldn't handle that anymore, she's going to demand to know why I didn't cave and mention things before they got so far out of hand. If I just mentioned it earlier-"

"Her-"

"But I can't take it back and I can't make it better either!" She fell forward when she reached him, landing directly beside him on the bed and nearly sending his drink across the mattress. He set it down, barely managing to straighten himself out before he found her leaning against him, her hands resting tight against her eyes while she sobbed, head pressed into his naked chest. He froze, observing her but not moving a muscle.

She shook when she cried, making her whole body sway. Reaching back he rested a hand awkwardly against the small of her back before she could topple off the bed. She was muttering something between the sobs, but she was so loud and tearful he couldn't make out a word of what she was saying.

Bloody hell. He'd been in situations before where she cried. He was shit at comforting her. But now she was leaning into him, seeking comfort from him he wasn't completely sure he could give.

His other arm wound its way around her back, holding her tight against his body. Her legs somehow found their way up on the bed too and she tucked herself below his chin, sobbing for everything she couldn't control, from Ron's mother to his addiction to every minute detail.

Draco didn't say a word. There wasn't anything he could say in this situation that may not turn out to be a lie. And she'd dealt with enough lies from Weasley.

He couldn't quite register when, time seemed to be dragging along. At some point her sobs softened and turned into quiet cries, until there was nothing left to cry about and she resorted to shaking in his arms, drawing on whatever strength she could.

"Thank you," she whispered, dragging him out of a daze. He'd been so focused on trying to help her, and trying to not make everything worse by saying something stupid, that he'd lost track of pretty much everything. He glanced down at her, unsurprised to find her face turned up to his, reddened eyes seeking his out. He hadn't even noticed he was rocking her.

"You don't get to thank me," he said, drawing back from her so her neck didn't break. "There's no reason to. You're doing it all yourself Granger; I'm just here to help."

She laughed softly, closing her eyes as she leaned her forehead against his. He followed suit, relishing in how calm she'd become in his grasp. "Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Calling me Granger Draco," she whispered, her hands shifting from in front of her to his shoulders, clinging there far too tightly. "I know the first time it happened it was sudden, but I hate hearing you say that anymore. You've seen far too much of me to remain on a last name basis."

He smirked, his fingers subconsciously trailing up and down her back. "Whatever you want Hermione."

"See?" she breathed, her grip on him relaxing, "that's much better."

"It sounds much better."

She relaxed in his hold, sinking closer to his form, her head pressing harder against his chin. Draco's eyes blinked open, taking her in. She hadn't dared to get so close before, even when she was drunk and beside herself. This was new, foreign and dangerous. He really shouldn't be getting so close to her when she was in such a vulnerable state.

When did he start caring so much about that?

Her eyes opened then, seeming to take in their close proximity for the first time as her head inclined up so her eyes could meet his. Her fingers tightened up on his shoulders again, her breath ghosting across his lips. Bloody hell, all he needed to do was lean an inch or so closer –

Something thudded loud and hard against the door outside the common room and they jerked away like school children caught by a teacher. She nearly fell off the bed, tangling once in his loose blanket before detaching herself to stand upright, the blush on her cheeks more profound than the redness of her eyes.

Draco nearly cursed at the bad timing, taking a moment to compose himself as she turned and darted out the bedroom door. He followed her a second later, well aware that something was wrong. Nothing should be thudding in the halls at nearly three in the morning now, least of all on their door. He grabbed his wand and stomped after her, opening the door with a flick of his wrist before she could reach it. He passed her when she hesitated at the opening frame, choosing instead to follow directly behind him through the common room, staying level with him as he reached the doorframe. She didn't even look frightened.

And she had a wand. Where was she hiding that in those shorts?

They paused together at the door, listening for anything else just outside. She'd beaten him by a step at the last moment, her fingers around the knob holding fast to keep it from fully opening. He frowned, reaching to push her away.

"Hermione-"

"I'm not going to hide behind you," she whispered, glancing up to meet his eyes. "It's the middle of the morning. We both know only one person is going to be bothering us at this hour. And I'm not going to let him see me cowering behind you Draco."

"Why would he even be here?"

She shrugged. "Ginny tattled, or perhaps Molly sent him a Howler about the meeting tomorrow. Who knows? But there's no one else who's going to cause a ruckus in the hallway here at this hour except Ron. And while I may cry for him, I'm not going to bow for him either."

Draco's eyebrows shot up, surprised so much venom could reside inside her when minutes ago she was sobbing on his bed. She shoved off his hand, swiveling out of his reach when he tried to stop her, and threw open the door the rest of the way open.

There was no one in the hallway, even as she stepped out in front of him and searched both directions, her hair flying wildly around her head. No sign of a ginger anywhere.

Draco followed her out of the room, searching around as well. His eyes fell on something just outside the door, something she hopped over in her mad search to find the Weasel. He picked it up, the heavy volume like a lead weight in his hand.

"Hogwarts: A History?"

"I gave that to Ron," she gasped, stepping forward to grasp the volume. "I gave one to Harry too for his birthday, kind of like a gag gift. They will never read it of course, but Harry laughed and hugged me when I gave it to him, and by that time Ron was already struggling with drugs. I thought maybe it would appeal to the humor in him, and since I care about it so much maybe it'd help redirect his focus." She smiled ruefully, shaking her head as she studied the torn cover. "Obviously, it didn't work."

"But Weasley was here then?" he inquired, his hand coming to rest on her arm. "That's his copy?"

"I penned in their names on the inside page with a little note," she muttered, flipping it open. "It went against my belief as a book lover but they'd end up leaving both copies in one place if they didn't have some way to tell them apart."

Draco peered over her shoulder, looking at the empty first page and the torn section on the left. "Looks like he tore it out."

"But it's most certainly Ron's," she sighed. "His was always far more destroyed than Harry's. And I don't see why he'd bother throwing his copy here, not after all he's learned."

Nodding, he led her back into the common room again, his eyes skirting around the corridor for the slightest hint that Weasley lingered around. They hadn't taken but a minute or two to throw open the door, so either the twit ran when he heard them coming or he never had the intention of staying around at all.

Hermione tossed the book onto the chair, smoothing down the cover as an afterthought. She stepped towards her room, ran her hands over her face once, and turned back to him. "Someone must've told him. He knows there will be a meeting tomorrow."

"He won't be able to do anything," Draco reminded, driving home his point from earlier. "We'll be partners in all our classes tomorrow; he won't dare try anything if I'm around, or Harry."

"While I appreciate that, it's not what concerns me," she muttered, worrying her lip. "Ron likes to take the easy way out of everything, like using drugs to cope with what's happened. He even ran off on Harry and I once when we were searching for Horcrux's." She shook her head, lost in thought.

"You think he's going to run," he realized, putting the pieces together, "to avoid conflict."

"And to avoid his parents. They've been through so much, even Ron isn't daft enough to think they'll take this lightly. If he can't handle it then he's going to try to disappear."

Draco scowled, turning back towards the door. "Then we just need to bloody find him-"

"You don't get it," she muttered, drawing his attention again. He glanced over his shoulder, noting the defeated look on her face. She didn't look like she might cry again, but she appeared so beat down that he feared she may topple over. "Knowing Ron, I think he's already left. Throwing the book was just a last rueful gesture before he took off. If I'm right, he's heading off the grounds by now."

A/N: I apologize for the delay in updates, so I won't make any excuses but I will hope you like this one! I know I left it off a little cliffy, but the good news is that the chapter got so long I already have a third of the next one typed up because of it! So long as nothing else comes up in life updates should be by the week again. Hope you enjoyed this one! Let me know your thoughts.