TWENTY-SEVEN

Loose Lips Sink Ships

Hermione woke to a pounding headache and the taste of alcohol and bile on her tongue. Her eyes refused to open. She wondered if she had cried so much that now her lashes were fused to her cheeks. She moved carefully, shivering as the cold from the ground made her bones ache; her skin like ice.

She heard a loud clanking of metal and forced her eyes open. Everything was hazy at first, but slowly, the room came into view. She wasn't anywhere familiar, but she had seen enough movies to know she was in a holding cell; a Muggle one. There was an officer walking towards her, beckoning her to her feet.

"Up you get, lass. There's a fellow here for ya."

Hermione nodded and tried her best to push herself to her feet. It wasn't until the officer bent down and picked her up that she was able to get her feet under her. She swayed, but followed the officer, stopping at the door for him to put a pair of metal cuffs on her wrists. They continued down a hall, one that zoomed in and out as Hermione's vision continued to blur. When they stopped again, the cuffs were removed and she was being sat in a cold metal chair at a plain wooden table.

"Be right back."

Hermione bobbed her head absently before leaning forward to rest her head on her arms. She wasn't sure if she had dozed for a moment or just zoned out, but the sound of the metal chair opposite her dragged on the ground and made her sit. She blinked a few times at the sight of the newcomer.

"Ronald?"

"Harry's at the Ministry trying to lessen your charges."

Hermione's lids fluttered as he slid a cup of water her way. She took the cup and drank it greedily. There was a hint of flavor to it, but it wasn't until she finished the cup that she realized it had been spiked with Sober Up. It only worked against the alcohol in her system; the illegal potion was still keeping her mind in a blissful state of ignorance.

"Charges? Am I in a Mug-"

"Yes," he interrupted. "You were picked up by an officer for public intoxication. Your blood alcohol level was quite high."

"Mmm," she mumbled; no way to deny that.

She watched him mutter something under his breath and recognized the silencing charms. "You're in big trouble, Hermione," he said with a sad smile. "You were so drunk that you pulled out your wand and started spouting off spells in front of a Muggle. And when you were brought in, you had illegal substances on you."

She closed her eyes and sighed.

"You're on one now, aren't you?"

"Yes."

He sighed and shook his head. "Harry and I got a break in that case we've been working on. We were there late doing some witness interviews when Officer Berra's message came in. You're lucky he was on duty; he's a Squib that works for the Muggle law enforcement. He recognized you, but it wasn't just Harry and I there."

"S'okay," she slurred. "Harry will sort this out."

"I'm worried about you. This isn't like you."

"You don't know what I'm like," she snapped, sitting upright in her seat, eyes open. "To know that, you would have to pay attention to me. For something other than to copy my homework."

His eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't get a chance to respond before Officer Berra came back into the room. "She's free to go; the charges on our end have been dropped. See that she gets home alright, please?"

"Thank you, Officer," Ron said, getting up from his chair and quickly moving to Hermione's. He helped her to her feet and she leaned on him as they followed Officer Berra out of the police station. They were silent until they were far enough away that he cast a new warming charm on them and pulled her into an alleyway. "I have to take you to the Ministry."

"Harry?"

He narrowed his eyes. "I'm sure he'll still be there. They're going to arrest you, Mione."

She shook her head. "Harry will fix it," she said, slumping against him as the potions sent a fresh wave of numbness through her.

"Being Harry Potter will only get him so far in this. You caused a lot of trouble." He adjusted his grip on her so that he was wrapping his arms around her. "We'll be Apparating right into his office," he said and after a moment, whisked her away.

When they reappeared, Hermione felt her stomach lurch and fell to her knees near the desk, grabbing for the bin. Ron cleaned her up when she was done and as he helped her to her feet again, the door opened and Harry walked in.

When she saw him, her eyes misted with tears and she reached for him. He held her and looked at Ron. "I got them to reconvene in the morning when she's sober. Will you owl Malfoy and have him come get her? I'll fill you both in when he gets here."

Ron nodded, but didn't leave right away. He was watching the way Hermione held tight to Harry, the way she buried her face in his chest. She had gone still for a moment and then reared back to look at Harry with fright. "No, you can't tell Draco."

"Trust me, I would rather not tell him," he told her and Ron caught the remorse in his tone.

"She had other potions on her. They were in a satchel and shrunken down, but Berra got rid of them."

"That will help the illegal substance charge," he said and held Hermione's face in his hands, trying to soothe her. "Who did you get the potions from?"

She shook her head and blinked against a fresh round of tears. "Please, don't tell Draco," she sobbed, leaning in to bury her face against his chest again. "He can't know."

Her sobs turned incoherent; a few words here and there being discernable. Harry tried his best to console her and in the end appeased her by promising not to tell Malfoy. When she settled down, he pulled away from her and led her to the couch. "I'll be right back," he promised and then beckoned for Ron to follow him.

Hermione could hear them bickering about something from beyond the door to his office, but didn't have the energy to focus. The potion was already starting to wear off, leaving a myriad of emotions in its wake. Dread coursed through her. Whether or not they listened to her, Draco would worry when she didn't come home. He would know sooner or later that she'd relapsed. Guilt took over for the dread and she curled into herself as she sobbed.

She felt the cushion sink next to her and looked through her tears to see Ron. He gave her that half smile that had won her over when they were young and she moved closer to lay her head on his shoulder. "Harry's telling Draco, isn't he?"

He gave a curt nod. "Mione, what's gotten into you?"

"I'm so sorry, Ronald," she breathed, her fingers clutching at his shirt. She was sure that she would realize what else she said when she was sober. That she would understand why Ron had gone still in her grasp and why his hold on her had tightened slightly. But in that moment of sadness and guilt, she wasn't sure what words had tumbled past her lips in the wake of her apology as she cried herself to sleep in Ron's arms.

Draco wasn't sure what to expect when he stepped off the lift into the Auror Department. The scroll had been very devoid of details; just a quick scrawl to say that Hermione was in Potter's office and that there had been an incident. There wasn't even a trace as to the state of her well being, but he forced himself to believe that if she was in danger, Potter would have at least said as much.

He was not, however, expecting to walk around the corner in time to see Weasley punching Potter square in the face. He stopped in his tracks, watching Potter stumble back against a desk and raise a hand to his bleeding nose.

"Ron-"

"Don't even pretend you don't know what that was for!" Weasley snarled. "Does my sister know?"

"Can we not do this here?" Potter asked, using the sleeve of his jumper to wipe his face.

"All this time I thought I lost Hermione because I didn't deserve her." He shook out his right hand and flexed his fingers. "I can't even look at you," he said and then turned to leave. He paused at the sight of Draco and narrowed his eyes.

"Save your breath, Weasley," Draco said, holding his hands up. "Where's Hermione?"

Weasley ground his teeth and rushed past him, shouldering him as he went. Draco sighed, waited for the lift to close, and then stepped towards Potter. "She's in my office," he said, gesturing towards the door. "Probably asleep otherwise Ron wouldn't have come out."

"What the hell happened?"

"I don't know, Hermione must have-"

"I don't care if Weasley knows, Potter. We can deal with that later. Why is Hermione here?"

Potter gave an apologetic smile and gestured at the nearest chair. He shook his head and opted to lean against the desk instead. "She was picked up about two hours ago by Muggle authorities. The arresting officer was a Squib who recognized her and called it in immediately. Ron and I were here doing witness interviews for the break in our latest case. We finished them early to take care of her.

"Officer Berra found her passed out in Muggle London. Her blood alcohol level was off the charts. There was a broken bottle of whiskey near her and there wasn't much that had spilled. He did find a shrunken satchel of illegal potions on her upon intake. There were traces of it in her system as well.

"The Muggle charges are cleared, but she performed magic in front of a Muggle. When the message came from Officer Berra, Ron and I weren't the only ones here. By the time it came to us, it was already on the Ministry's radar. They agreed to let her come back tomorrow when she's sober to discuss the proper punishment, but she broke a lot of laws. I did what I could, but there's only so many favors the Golden Trio can cash in," he explained.

Draco's blood turned cold at the news and he looked at Potter's office door with a mix of emotions. "Did she say where she got the potions from?"

He shook his head. "No. If she told Ron, I'll find out later, but she didn't say anything to me. She wasn't all that coherent. The Sober Up potion Ron gave her at the Muggle police station worked on the alcohol, but not on the potions." He studied Draco for a moment. "She was more worried about you finding out."

"She wasn't home when I finished work," he stated. "She was still asleep when I left this morning." He swallowed around the lump in his throat. He knew relapse was a possibility; that there was almost always one on the road to recovery. He pushed the rising anger aside and stepped away from the desk, glowering at Potter.

"Malfoy-"

"Save it, Potter. Can I take her home or not?"

Potter sighed and then nodded. "Yes. She has to be back at eight for her hearing. Shacklebolt's office."

"She'll be there."

He walked into the office and stared down at Hermione passed out on the couch. Potter leaned against the door frame. "You can Apparate from here. We opened it temporarily so Ron could come back without anyone seeing. I'll leave it open for tomorrow morning as well."

"What about Weasley?"

"We have more witness interviews in the morning." Draco narrowed his eyes at him and he nodded. "Right, uh, I don't know what Hermione said to him."

"And if he runs to tell your wife; his sister?"

Potter ran a hand through his hair. "Ginny left." He cleared his throat and looked Hermione. "She and James were gone when I got home. She left a note saying she would be at the Burrow." He reached across his chest to rub at his shoulder. "She usually goes to the Burrow a few days before Christmas to help her Mum, but this time feels different."

Draco leaned down to gently gather Hermione in his arms. She sighed and murmured something intelligible as she leaned against him. "Take care of your shit, Potter," he warned and then Apparated them home.