Chapter 26

"I'm sure he's fine," Harry said, sitting in Hermione's kitchen, sipping the chocolate she'd given him.

"It's been four months. I've even started wondering if I should check the morgues."

"If Malfoy is anything, he's a survivor."

"He was so angry. He had nowhere to go. How will he even eat?"

"Don't worry about it. He'll turn up eventually. In twenty-four years if not sooner. I'm kidding. He'll come around. Where else is he supposed to go?"

"I just wish I knew he was alright."

"You're not responsible for him."

"Aren't I?"

"He's a grown up. Officially and everything." Harry put his arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. "You can do stuff for people to help them—doesn't mean they're grateful for it. It's still a better option than rotting in Azkaban."

"Not sure he agrees."

"I'm sure he's sulking somewhere."

"Or he's completely lost."

"Malfoy isn't an idiot. I'm sure he's fine."

"How's Ginny?" Hermione said to distract herself.

"Good. You should come for dinner."

"Yeah, maybe next week." Hermione knew Harry was concerned about her and wanted her to integrate more into the Wizard world. Since losing her job at Henderson Perferot, she'd drifted back to the muggle world into another dead end job. Her parents wanted her to go to university, but she still felt stuck, feeling like she couldn't just cut the past and turn to the future, and was now stuck in between.

"You can't cancel on me this time."

Her mum walked into the kitchen. "Hello, Harry. How are you?"

"I'm fine, Mrs. Granger."

"I'm glad to hear that. You must be getting close to finishing your training."

"Another year to go."

Hermione avoided her mum's pointed look that said – 'Look, other people are getting on with it'. They meant well, but their less than subtle urging wasn't helping. It only made her feel uncomfortable. Everyone felt that way. Hermione, the one with so much potential, just failed to launch. It made her feel isolated and scrutinised. She knew she had to get her life in order, but somehow the barriers stubbornly stayed in place.

-0-

"Yes?" Hermione said as she answered the hall telephone. Usually it was her aunt that called on the landline during the day.

"I am seeking a Hermione Granger."

"This is Hermione Granger."

"I am Sergeant Smith and I am calling from the Metropolitan Police in Charing Cross."

Hermione felt her heart start beating powerfully.

"I have someone here who says he is known to you—a Drago Malfoy."

"Draco. His name is Draco."

The policeman was completely uninterested. But at least he was alive. In custody from the sounds of things. "He's indicated that you would be willing to post bail."

Did he really, Hermione thought tartly. But at least he was alive, not matter what trouble he'd gotten himself into. "I'll be right there."

Hopping in her mum's car, she drove to Charing Cross, thought central London and its crowded street. She had to find a parking building which would cost a fortune, on top of whatever bail was required.

She made her way into the station where she was pointed in the direction of an unwelcoming desk in a grey room. Sergeant Smith, apparently, manned the desk and he eyed her suspiciously. She had to pay first, £450 which just about cleared out her credit card, then he phoned somewhere and told her to wait.

It took quite a while, but then a harsh buzzer sounded and the heavy side door unlocked. A policeman stepped out, then Draco.

She felt reassured to see that he was alive, looking very different from the last time she'd seen him. He was wearing blue jeans and a sleeveless, black Joan Jett t-shirt. He seemed slightly surprised to see her before turning to the desk, where the Sergeant wanted him to sign something and he was presented with her personal items, zipped in a green pouch. He had short hair and a tattoo on his neck, she couldn't make out what it was.

As he put his wallet away, she could see his dark mark, prominent on his arm. "What are you doing here, Granger?"

"You asked for me. Apparently, you needed someone to bail you out." He finally turned to her. He looked so different. "You have a tattoo."

He shrugged, then turned back to the form he apparently needed to sign, taking the biro pen and scribbling.

"I need you address," the Sergeant said to her.

Hermione stepped over to the form and wrote down her address. She could feel Draco studying her as she did. Seeing him dressed like this was not what she'd expected. She'd never expected to see the day that Draco Malfoy wore jeans—tight jeans too.

"So what am I bailing you out for, exactly?"

He shrugged again.

"Drugs," the Sergeant said.

"DRUGS?!" she repeated, staring at Draco, who didn't even look bashful about it. "You were doing drugs?"

"Turns out there are things about the Muggle world that I really, really like."

"What kind of drugs?"

"Heroin," the Sergeant added. "You sure you want to bail him out. Boys like him are less than reliable, so don't hand over any money you can't afford to lose." Hermione just stared at the man and then Draco.

"HEROIN? YOU WERE DOING HEROIN. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? Wha..?" she started, staring into his cool grey eyes. "Oh my god," she said, dropping her head onto her hands, not really knowing what to do with herself. "You're been doing heroin?"

"It's lovely."

"Do you know what happens to people who do heroin?"

Draco looked at the Sergeant, who indicated that he could go, and he started walking to the door. "I probably know better than you do," he said and pushed the door open. It had started raining outside. "My car is this way," she said, and he seemed to follow in silence as they crossed the road to the parking building.

He sat down in the passenger seat. It was so strange to have him there, and in a form she didn't really recognise.

"Do you even know who Joan Jett is?" she asked.

"I figured she'd the bird who owns this t-shirt, and if someone was going to come along and rip my shirt off me, I'd prefer it was a bird, but saying that, I haven't been all too fussy of late."

Hermione groaned and started the car.

"Nice car, Granger."

"It's my mum's," but she didn't pull out of the park. "What have you been doing for the last four months?"

"Discovering my new home, I guess."

"Through heroin?" she stated, still unbelieving she was having this conversation.

"I've been experiencing personal growth. And muggle world is … complex. Muggles do like to play." Leaning back on the head rest, he turned his head to her and she felt him watching her. "And I've been perfectly happy to play. Sex everywhere and people will do anything for it."

"You know, I didn't get you out of prison so you could become some junky rent boy."

"Rent boy," he said with a chuckle. "I can't help it if everyone wants to fuck me, and I am a generous man. Sex is the ultimate commodity—everyone wants it."

"Not everyone."

"Even you."

"I do not!" she stated indignified.

"Come on, Granger. You got me out of prison—twice—so I can take you down and dirty up against the wall somewhere."

She was shocked, and completely unable to stop the image from forming in her head. He was grinning at her when she shot him a withering look. "I do not want to fuck you," she said.

"You get me some heroin," he said and leaned over to nuzzle into her neck, ever so slightly touching his lips to her neck"and I will do anything you want me to." She pushed him away, but he was grinning and she knew he was purposefully trying to shock her. She hit him on the arm and pulled out of the building. Reaching out he stroked down her neck and she shrugged her shoulder up to dislodge the touch. "Come on, Granger. I call and you come running. You've always wanted me."

"No, I really don't," she said. "I wanted to make sure you were okay. I got you out of prison and I feel responsible for you, pushed into a world you don't know."

"You knew I would be fine."

"This isn't fine, Draco. You can't mess around with drugs. Drugs can't be controlled. They'll steal everything out of you—you're very life."

"I'm not stupid, Granger. I know where I am. I know Knockturn Alley when I see it."

"Then why didn't you find me? I would have helped you."

"Maybe I was where I needed to be."

She looked him in the eyes, but he was serious now. "Literally in the gutter."

"Don't knock the gutter. You meet some very interesting people."

"And drugs that will kill you. You do know that, right?"

"I know exactly what drugs can do. I have seen every stage of it."

"Then you know you can't go on like this."

"I've missed you," he said, leaning over and kissing her on the shoulder.

"Don't." She shrugged him off. "I am never going to get you drugs," she said sternly, "and sliming up my shoulder isn't going to help."

"So harsh," he said with a smile. "But we both you you're taking me home so you could have your way with me."

"Why did you call me?"

"I don't know. I was high at the time."

Hermione closed her eyes and shook her head.

"Absolutely no drugs in my house. "I'm totally and utterly serious," she looked at him pointedly and he was still watching her. He was just so unbelievably beautiful, she thought bitterly. She could well imagine that the predators had been circling around him. But Draco had never been innocent. If anyone knew a predator, it was him. As he said, he knew she'd come running if he called. But he hadn't called—until now.

Whatever it was he wanted from her, he would not be running circles around her. "You will get the drugs out of your system and you will be clean."

"And then you're fucking me."

"I'm not fucking you."

"Yes, you are, but you can delude yourself if you want, but I've been all about getting rid of delusion lately."

Hermione snorted with annoyance, wondering what kind of trouble she was inviting into her house.