A/N: Thank you to all who've left a review sharing your thoughts on this story - your words mean so much!

Ch. 12 Novocaine for the Soul

Life is hard / And so am I / You'd better give me something / So I don't die / Novocaine for the soul / Before I sputter out / Before I sputter out

- Novocaine For the Soul, Eels.

Something was wrong.

Something was very, very wrong indeed because Draco found that he could not stop thinking about the feel of Hermione Granger shifting about as she sat on his lap and brushed against his hardening cock, about the flush of her cheeks, the lust-filled look in her eyes, just the feel of her – warm and supple and so very fucking wanton…

But it was all so wrong, because it was her and he couldn't, shouldn't, be thinking like this – be wishing and dreaming and fucking wanking countless time to the memory of her – of them – in the old Divination classroom.

Maybe he just needed a decent shag. He was a young, viral man, and Hermione Granger had just been there, and – and maybe he just needed good shag. A shag that definitely did not involve Hermione Granger. But when he thought about anyone else, it was as if his dick lost its appetite – he had no interest. Okay. So maybe it was just a one off – just something weird that had happened in the intimacy of that skanky room, after he'd decided to goad her with the words of Emily-fucking-Bronte.

Why he had goaded her, he didn't know. Maybe it was just that being an arsehole was part of his genetic make-up. Although Alethea was trying to make him question that. "Is there another story you could have about yourself, Draco?" she'd often ask. "Is there an alternative to the 'I'm evil, dark and power-hungry' story?" Well, considering the fact that he couldn't seem to stop being such arsrehole, clearly not.

It was Saturday evening, two days after the clusterfuck of their first therapy task, and Draco had managed to avoid Granger ever since. It seemed as if she were avoiding him too, which suited him fine. There was no news of a second task yet, which was also fine with him; the Binding Books were magicked to momentarily glow and heat up when something new had been written in them, and his had remained still.

He hadn't told anyone about what had happened with Granger. He didn't know how he would explain it, didn't know how to make sense of it, wished it had never happened. Besides, neither of them could share what they talked about in detail, and that probably applied to what they did too, right? Which meant, to Draco's relief, that Granger couldn't have told anyone either.

Except for Alethea or McGonagall.

Draco nearly vomited in his mouth at the thought of that.

"Okaaaay! Let's get this party started!" Blaise burst out of the boys' dormitory and into the common room, his hands raised in the air, brandishing an overflowing bottle of champagne. He wore a garish shirt which was only half-buttoned; black eyeliner and glitter were expertly applied to his face.

With much gusto, he started singing the lyrics to a Suede song: "Oh, here they coooo-ooome! The beeeeautiful oooo-oones! The beeeeautiful oooo –!" Blaise's eyes fell on Draco and he stopped abruptly, looking slightly alarmed. "Draco, where's your drink? And is that a book in your hand?"

"I don't have a drink," Draco replied tightly, although Blaise's champagne looked quite tempting. It was from Theo's stash, and Theo never had cheap alcohol, it was always the good stuff. He'd come loaded with a crate of Veuve Clicquot La Grande Dame at the beginning of term. How he'd got it past Filch, Merlin only knew.

"Well, we will have to rectify that!" Blaise declared.

As if in response, Pansy appeared seemingly out of nowhere and placed a tray of full flutes on the coffee table, just as someone else turned the music up and the room started to fill with people, including the Patil twins, who'd been invited by Blaise and Daphne. Draco had long stopped being surprised at their presence in the Slytherin Common Room. He valued Daphne's judgement, so ever since her relationship with Padma had been revealed, he'd respected the Ravenclaw girl. Well, he'd respected her ever since she'd refused to burn her Muggle book at the Book Burning Ceremony the Carrows had organised during the first week of their seventh year. And Parvati...he supposed, for a Gryffindor, was tolerable.

Draco had really not wanted to come to this party, but staying in his dorm wasn't really an option. The racket the Slytherins would no doubt make would penetrate his best silencing spells and he would inevitably get interrupted every ten minutes by one of his fellow housemates attempting to cajole him into joining the 'fun'. Wandering the castle didn't seem particularly appealing either, so he'd settled for sitting on a chair in the corner with a book, and getting quietly drunk.

"Pansy! Someone at the door for you!" a sixth year called out.

"Oh!" Pansy exclaimed excitedly, as she handed Draco a glass of Veuve Clicquot, and waved at whoever was in the doorway. "Hermione! Come in!"

Draco choked on the champagne he'd just sipped, his body going tense. He was facing away from the door, and looked up at Pansy, hissing. "What the fuck is Granger doing here?"

"She's my guest! Hermione, here – have some Grande! It's a 1990 vintage – one of the best!" Pansy replied, hurrying away from Draco to greet her guest.

What the actual, fuckity fuck?

"Thanks," he heard Granger's polite voice behind him.

He didn't turn around, but kept looking down at his book.

"Come and play cards! It's how we always start off our parties!" Pansy exclaimed.

As the two girls approached the card table, Granger came into view, and Draco watched, unseen, from where he sat. She was wearing a knee-length leather skirt, which hugged her arse in such a delicious way it was almost obscene, and a long-sleeved, emerald-green lace top with a low neckline. Always long-sleeved – hiding that fucking bandage of hers, Draco thought. A black silk scarf was tied around her neck and something tantalising stirred in Draco as he realised what she was hiding in wearing it...as he remembered the marks he had left on her.

Theo, Daphne and the Patil twins were sitting around the card table, with Theo shuffling a deck. Draco watched as Parvati glanced at Granger with an uncertain expression. Draco wasn't sure if they had spoken since the Lake party.

"Here Hermione, take a seat," Daphne smiled warmly up at her. "I like your top! Have you played Hexing Hearts before?"

"Er, once or twice. Exploding Snap is the card game of choice in the Gryffindor common room," Granger answered as she took a seat and furtively glanced around her. Draco didn't look away quickly enough and so their eyes met. He saw her lips part slightly and swore he saw a flush of red creep up her cheeks, before she quickly looked away, down at the cards that Theo was dealing.

"So, there are some rules," Theo said wryly. "Firstly, no one calls anyone else a 'Death Eater's whore'."

Draco saw Granger's eyes go wide. There was an awkward silence before Parvati's face broke out into a grin, and Daphne and Padma burst into mirthful laughs.

Granger's lips turned up into an uncertain half-smile. She looked directly at Parvati. "I am sorry about that," she said sincerely.

Parvati shrugged "Apology accepted," she replied, her voice luke-warm. "Have you brought your sickles? 'Cause they play for money here."

"It's the Slytherin way," Daphne added, apologetically.

"Oh – er – no, I don't have any money on me."

"No worries, Hermione. I'll lend you some," Pansy dug on her pocket – she had bespoke clothing made for her with hidden pockets – and slid a handful of coins over to Granger. "I just want my investment back with interest, so make sure you win," she said with a wink, before adding, "Just joking." Granger gave a small, shy smile.

Salazar's saggy sack, why were they all being so fucking nice to her?

Blaise was still singing loudly, dancing on his own in front of the fireplace. When he got hyped up, he couldn't sit still long enough to play cards. He called to Draco again, "Draco, what are you doing? No one reads at a party! What are you reading, anyway? Please don't tell me it's that Withering Hips again? You must have read that about five times now!"

"Wuthering Heights," Theo corrected calmly, studying the cards in his hand.

Draco's stomach twisted as he saw Granger's head snap towards Theo, then over towards him and Blaise. He had, indeed, first read Wuthering Heights when he was fourteen. The theory that the Bronte sisters had been witches meant their works were acceptable enough to be kept in the Malfoy library. But, for some inexplicable reason, he hadn't wanted to admit any of that to Granger.

"No, I'm not reading that," Draco bit out. He was actually reading a book of Muggle poetry he'd started at the beginning of term; it's where he'd come across the Longfellow quote that he'd referenced the night of the Lake party.

He was aware of Granger looking subtly at him and felt the pricklings of pain behind his right eye – fucking migraines. He suddenly had a desperate urge to get away from her gaze and sprung to his feet, striding towards his dormitory. Because trying to read in the solitude of the boy's dorm, even if he had to battle the drone of the party, maybe wasn't so bad after all.

xXx

Three hours later, at a few minutes to midnight, Draco was was still awake – he'd become intrigued by an article on the Muggle internet and hadn't realised where the time went – when Blaise burst through their dormitory door, his limbs entwined around someone else – someone male and tall, with wavy chestnut hair.

"Blaise – seriously –" Draco began, but then quickly realised his protests were going to be in vain, because Blaise and the other man's lips were glued together and they were doing a blind, stumbling walk towards Blaise's bed. Blaise collided awkwardly against it, and the other man – who Draco now thought might be that Ravenclaw, Terry Boot – let out a muffled laugh as they fell onto the mattress, proceeding to grasp at each other's clothes.

Draco rolled his eyes in exasperation, flicked his wand towards Blaise's bed so the curtains swung shut around it, and pushed himself to his feet. He really wasn't going to hang around whilst Blaise shagged his latest conquest, no matter how good his silencing charms were.

The state of the common room rivalled the state of the Great Hall after the final Battle. Smashed glasses, beer bottles and dubious stains littered the floor. The furnishings were awry, and there were spilled drinks on every surface. Yet again, they were going to have to bribe the Hogwart's elves to clean up and not report them to the teachers.

There were only stragglers left, although he noted that he couldn't see Theo, who hadn't been in their dorm either. Pansy was standing in front of the sofas by the fireplace, swaying gently to the music, which was still playing quietly, a dreamy smile on her face. A couple of seventh years were passed out on some cushions by the window. Daphne was practically sitting in Padma's lap; they were engaged in a deep kiss that appeared to have gone on a long time. Adrian Pucey was standing over them, mumbling something about 'how sexy it all was', which caused Daphne to break from the kiss and throw a cushion at him.

"Piss off! We're gay, you slimy fuck!" Daphne spat out. "We're not kissing for the titillation of straight men!"

As Daphne pulled Padma to her feet and the girls walked towards their dorm, Draco saw a familiar figure sitting on a sofa in the corner, her head resting against its back, looking up at the glass ceiling, her lips slightly parted and eyes wide in amazement.

What the fuck was she still doing here?

Draco found his feet propelling him forward so he was standing over her. "Granger. I think the party's over."

Granger remained still except for her lips which curled up into a vacant smile. "But the colours," she said, her voice unhurried and thick. She slowly raised an arm and pointed at the ceiling, where the darkness of the Great Lake could be seen through a large window. "They're so...beautiful."

Draco looked up, following Granger's gaze, but could only see blackness, with an occasional shadow passing across the watery depths on the other side of the glass.

"Right. Well, I can't see anything, so I think maybe you should get back to your dorm."

Her head lolled slowly upright, so she was looking at him. Something about her eyes made him immediately uncomfortable – they were like empty voids. "You can't see anything? But that's so sad." Her voice was flat and expressionless. She patted the seat beside her. "Here. Sit. I'll show you."

Draco realised that Granger's behaviour could not just be the result of too much alcohol, but something else entirely. What the fuck had she taken? He couldn't leave her now, could he, tripping out of her fucking head? He found himself sitting next to her as her head lolled back against the back of the sofa once again. "Look," she said. "The greens. There are so many shades of green."

She closed her eyes then and her head rolled slightly to the side, exposing her neck and the expanse of skin that swept down to just above the top of her breasts, her bra poking out ever-so-slightly from the emerald lace of her top. His cock twitched at the sight of it, and he had a sudden urge to kiss her tenderly on the collar bone. Then he immediately felt disgusted with himself at perving on her when she was so totally incapacitated.

He mentally ran through the potential substances that could render her like this. When he'd developed a short-list, he was certain that Granger would not have brought them to the party herself.

"Pansy," he called out, and the Slytherin girl stopped in her swaying and looked at Draco expectantly. "What the hell did you give her?"

"I like green," Granger commented, her eyes open again. She turned to Draco and gave him a penetrating look, then said gravely, "But you know that already."

Draco pulled away from her gaze before he got lost in the depths of her irses. "Pansy?" he urged.

"Oh," Pansy waved her hand dismissively. "I just gave her a smidge of ecstasis with her drink."

"Ecstasis?"

Ecstasis was a rare potion; only certain people, such as registered mind healers, were permitted to brew it. The potion sent the drinker into a euphoric, blissful state, although it caused the worst comedowns ever and was powerfully addictive. "She's probably never done it before, Pans – she's going to be extra sensitive to it! Did you even tell her you'd put it in her drink?"

Pansy frowned and placed her hands on her hips, her indignation negated somewhat by how she then stumbled, before righting herself. "Of course I told her! And she was very welcoming of the offer!"

"Fuck's sake Pansy!" Draco exclaimed exasperatedly,

Granger reached over and started stroking a hand down his cheek, saying solemnly, "Shhh...it'll be okay..." Draco grabbed hold of her arm and thrust it away from him, pushing it down into the cushion between their thighs. "Oh," Granger responded with dulled surprise, looking down with wide eyes at where his hand was gripped around her wrist.

"She'll be fine," – Pansy gave another dismissive wave of her hand – "She's Hermione Granger! Fighter of evil, robber of banks, rider of dragons, blah, blah, blah. A little ecstasis isn't going to hurt her!"

"She's going to feel like shit tomorrow," Draco said regretfully.

Pansy's lips turned up into a sneer. "I don't think she's as innocent as you think she is."

"What do you mean?" Draco snapped, as Granger's head dropped towards his shoulder and rested there. Her hair tickled his face irritatingly, but he could feel the warmth of her body as she leant against him, and it sent ripples of heat through him.

Pansy leant forwards conspiratorially. "Apparently, Blaise saw her during the summer. In a Muggle club. Leaning against a wall with a Muggle man's hand up her skirt."

"What? He must've been mistaken."

"Nope. He knew the guy and went to say hello, you see. Matt, I think was his name," Pansy put her hands up in air-quotes. "'Nice guy...amazing in the sack...pretty kinky' – that's what Blaise said. In fact, it was a pretty kinky establishment they were in, apparently. He doesn't think she can remember though – apparently she was wasted."

Granger's face was now buried in Draco's shoulder and he was distracted by her taking a long, deep inhale.

"You smell really rather lovely," she said in a sad voice that was muffled the thick wool of his jumper.

"Well, she needs to get back to her dorm...to sleep..." Draco said helplessly, as Pansy continued to sway slightly in front of him.

Pansy frowned in concentration, as if she were deeply pondering what Draco had said, then exclaimed determinedly: "Yep. Yes, you are right! I need to go to bed! You'll get her back to Gryffindor Tower, won't you lovely? Night, darling." Then she blew a kiss at him, turned and stumbled to her room.

"What? Great. Seriously…" Draco protested as Pansy disappeared from view.

There was a quiet snuffle from Granger and, to his dismay, he realised she'd fallen asleep on him. What the actual fuck? He contemplated leaving her on the sofa to sleep it off. But then he thought of unscrupulous sleazes like Pucey coming across her when ecstasis was still swimming through her blood, and he reluctantly moved his arm, rousing her.

"Come on," he said gravely. "You need to go back to the lion's den."

Granger blinked her eyes open, and smiled vacantly. "Oh no, it's lovely here," she went to lean against him again. "Let's stay here."

"No. Let's not," he said determinedly, rising to his feet and pulling her up with him. "Let's go!"

It took far longer than it should have to get from the Slytherin Common Room to Gryffindor Tower. Granger kept stopping to examine the portraits.

"That's beautiful," she murmured, gazing up at one. "Can you see how beautiful this is? Oooohhh, it just moved."

"They always move," he retorted sharply, taking her arm gently and moving her along.

As they passed the door to the kitchens, she halted abruptly. "Shall we get some food...I'm a little hungry..." she murmured.

"Not right now, Granger, come on," he continued to cajole her down the corridor.

They'd reached the Entrance Hall when he noticed Granger was shivering. It was a common side effect of ecstasis, which stopped the body's capacity to regulate its own body temperature. Granger was still only wearing that flimsy lace top and the air was chilly this time of night; it was already the beginning of October. She didn't seem to notice that her arms had started shaking, but Draco couldn't help but be bothered by it. Eventually, he impatiently pulled his moss-green cashmere jumper over his head and thrust it at her.

"Here," he demanded. "Put this on."

She eyed the jumper, her eyebrows raised in surprise, and slowly clutched at it with her own hand, taking it off him. Painstakingly slowly, she fiddled with it, arranging it to pull it over her head, and smoothed it down her torso. It was stupidly big on her – went down to her thighs and drowned her arms.

"Oh. It's so soft..." she said wonderingly, hugging her arms to herself, and making him roll his eyes in exasperation.

Finally, they got to the Fat Lady's portrait, and Draco's heart beat in alarm when he realised Granger might not remember the password. But she leant towards the Fat Lady, her hands cupping her mouth in exaggerated secrecy and said in a stage whisper, "Peppermint pygmies." How on earth she thought he wouldn't be able to hear her, he had no idea. Fortunately, the portrait swung open.

"You'll be alright from here, yeah Granger? You just need to get up to your dorm now."

She turned to him, her eyes penetrating again, reached out with one hand and cupped his jaw in her palm. "Your eyes...they make me feel…" She was clearly lost for words, because she just finished by repeating, quietly and sadly: "They make me feel."

There was something delicate and fragile in the air between them, but Draco was too tired to make sense of it, so instead he said gently, "Okay – well – best get to bed, Granger."

She smiled sadly at him again, before turning and climbing through the portrait hole, her movements surprisingly graceful considering how fucked out her mind she was. He hoped she could make it to her dorm from there; at least she'd got to Gryffindor Tower in one piece.

It was only when he was halfway back to the Slytherin Common Room that he realised, with a sting of annoyance, that he'd forgotten to get his jumper back.

A/N:

The next chapter is quite a bit shorter than my usual chapters (and this one was a smidgeon shorter too) so I'm going to post Ch. 13 as a bonus chapter mid-week, possibly next Tuesday!

Huge thanks to Frumpologist and scullymurphy for being amazingly encouraging alphabetas.

Your comments, thoughts and constructive feedback are cherished and treasured!