"Where have you been, Miss Granger," Ginny's voice called as Hermione snuck back into Gryffindor Tower. Hermione drew her wand at the sound of her voice pointing it at the younger girl before she had fully registered who was talking to her.
"Sorry Gin," she whispered, putting her wand away.
"No worries, we all react to sudden noises, I suspect we will for along time yet," the redhead replied.
"Why are you awake, its after three," Hermione asked approaching her friend who sat on the red sofa, staring at the dying orange embers in the fire.
"I had a nightmare," Ginny replied, raising a cup to her lips, though it looked like hot chocolate, Hermione could smell that it was laced with Firewhisky.
"Want to talk about it," she questioned, summoning an elf to make her a hot chocolate as well.
"No," the redhead replied.
"Where's Harry," Hermione asked instead. These days he and Ginny were practically glued to the hip.
"He's asleep," Ginny replied.
"Didn't he wake when you did," Hermione asked.
"Dreamless Sleep," Ginny answered instead as the elf popped back into the common room with the hot chocolate Hermione had requested. Opening her bag, she pulled out a flask full of vodka and poured a large measure into the cup she had been given, using a spoon to mix it into her hot chocolate.
"We all have our vices," Ginny mused.
"I guess so," Hermione agreed, rising her drink to her mouth. Hermione had many vices, alcohol, cigarettes, sleeping potions and a surly Slytherin that was steeling her soul.
"Who were you out with," Ginny asked, gesturing to her neck, Hermione blushed, raising her hand to cover a love bite Draco had left before she had returned to the tower.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Hermione chuckled.
"Whoever they are you seem happier," Ginny commented.
"I suppose I am," Hermione agreed. She'd felt consumed by a darkness before her meetings with Draco had started. She'd been lost, drifting among her friends like a broken boat lost in a typhoon, determinedly on course for destruction. Days were still dark, but Draco brought patches of light to them, made her want to get better, to remain on the mortal coil. He understood her in a way others didn't. With Draco there were no expectations, nothing she had to live up to, it was simple, easy, there were pockets of joy.
"I'm glad you are feeling happier, I thought we were losing you," Ginny whispered, reaching over to take her hand in hers.
"You won't lose me," she replied. Even to her own ears the statement sounded flat, un-trueful. How could she make a promise to keep living when she was an alcoholic, when she was self medicating with sleeping potions most nights, taking doses much higher than those that a person who was prescribed them would be allowed to take, people like Harry who got their potions in measured doses each day from the Hospital Wing. Hermione however had been making her own, increasing the dosage each time the effects weaned, letting Bellatrix back into her mind.
"If you ever need to talk, Harry and I are here for you," Ginny told her, her voice worried.
"I'm fine, you guys have your own problems to deal with," she told her friend.
"doesn't mean we don't want to hear yours too," Ginny replied, masking a yawn behind her hand.
"Go back to bed Gin," Hermione whispered.
"We love you Mione," Ginny told her, squeezing her hand a final time as the Red headed witch stood up and made her way towards the boy's staircase, her empty cup forgotten on the table in front of the fire.
"Love you too," Hermione replied to the empty room.