**Author's note- Hi all! I'm back with another installment of Dark Heart! This chapter was difficult for me to write because of all the emotion detailed in it. I wanted to make sure it was just right. I'm really proud of how it turned out. I hope you all enjoy. Now, make sure to get your tissues ready because this one is a tearjerker. - Much love, Sarah

Disclaimer: As always, only the plot and original characters are mine.

Chapter Three

Wednesday December 31, 1997

7:53 PM

After finishing his last bite of jam tart, Blaise set his fork down and leaned back with a contented sigh. Dinner had been delicious, dessert even more so, and now he was full to bursting. Gripa outdid herself, he thought as he looked at the many, almost empty, platters and serving dishes that filled the table.

The menu for the evening had consisted of several of Hermione's favorite dishes, Muggle and magical, as per the suggestion of Mrs. Weasley. She had even sent an owl to Mrs. Zabini with the recipes about an hour after she and Harry had left on Monday. Mrs. Zabini had immediately handed the recipes off to Gripa, who worked tirelessly on making sure every dish was prepared just right.

Blaise had questioned a couple of the Muggle dishes, as he'd never had them before, but Harry had assured him that they were good. He knew from the moment he tried them that he'd be requesting them himself in the future. Especially the fish and chips, he decided, remembering what Harry had told him when he'd asked what it was.

Another suggestion that Mrs. Zabini had taken, from both Mrs. Weasley and Harry, was to keep things simple. The intimate gathering was nothing like the previous New Year's Eve parties the Zabini's were known for. None of their usual decorations had been put out, Mrs. Zabini hadn't hired additional staff or musicians, the ball room remained unused, and only a handful of invitations had been sent out. Even the table settings, though elegant, were the least ostentatious of the numerous sets they owned.

It warmed his heart to think that Hermione would love everything about the quieter affair. He could see her sitting across from him, hear her laughing at something one of her friends said, or scolding Draco for being rude. A frown pulled his lips down slightly at the thought of Draco.

Of course, his best friend had been invited, he always was, but he had refused to come. Blaise had been over every day since Draco's release from St. Mungo's, but he'd just end up talking to Draco's bedroom door for a while before heading back down to have tea with Mrs. Malfoy.

He understood Draco's devastation and heartache, he could feel it every time he stood outside his room. He just wished there was something he could do to ease Draco's pain. Pretty sure the only thing that will help him is finding Hermione.

"Blaise?"

He turned his head toward the voice as soft fingers slid over his hand that was resting on the table. Beatrice Graphook greeted his questioning gaze, worry sparkling in her brown eyes. "Are you all right?"

Blaise trapped two of her fingers with his thumb and lifted her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles softly. "Fine, Love," he replied quietly.

A faint blush colored her cheeks at his show of affection. "You've been quiet tonight," she noted. "That's unlike you."

She had a point. Ordinarily, Blaise would be talking up a storm, joking and laughing with his friends. Tonight, however, he'd been too much in his head. Thoughtful, observant. He gave her an apologetic smile as he turned his hand over, lacing their fingers together.

"Are you thinking of Hermione?"

"And Draco," he confessed.

Beatrice nodded in understanding. "You're worried about them."

Blaise's lips quirked up slightly. "How do you know me so well?" he questioned teasingly. "Are you a Legilimens?"

"Of course not," she giggled, "but I don't need to be to know that you'd be worried about people you love."

Tightening his hold on her hand just a little, he tugged her toward him as he leaned in. He brushed his lips over hers in a chaste kiss and whispered, "I'm glad you're here."

With the tapping of flatware against glass, and Mr. Zabini rising to his feet, Beatrice could do no more than smile. The two righted themselves in their seats and turned their attention to the head of the table, fingers still entwined.

Mr. Zabini smiled warmly as his gaze drifted over each face. "When Marjorie approached me about this year's New Year's Eve party, I was… hesitant. I believed that celebrating the end of this year and welcoming the next meant we were forgetting our daughter, moving on."

Mrs. Zabini dabbed at her eyes as her husband reached for her hand and continued, "It took my son telling me how pig-headed I was being to understand just how wrong I was." He met Blaise's eyes and they shared a knowing smile. "Now, standing here, looking at each of you, I understand even more that there is no possibility of Hermione ever being forgotten. While I refuse to believe she is lost to us forever, it is clear that she lives in each of you."

He cleared his throat and motioned toward the opposite end of the room. "If you would all please make your way to the garden, Marjorie has arranged something special in honor of our Hermione."

Blaise helped Beatrice from her chair and took a brief moment to hold her close, kissing her properly. A throat clearing had him breaking the kiss and turning to find four pairs of eyes staring at him. He grasped Beatrice's hand as he looked at Ginny, Luna, Ron, and Harry. It was the latter that had cleared his throat.

Knowing that, shortly, he was going to be bombarded by a storm of emotions, Blaise took a deep breath and gave his new friends a pleading look. "Don't leave my side?"

Harry and Luna radiated understanding as they nodded. Harry probably understood Blaise's need for them more than the others because he knew what it felt like to go through something so emotionally heavy that you felt you were going through it alone. He had certainly been through enough difficult times to know that he needed his friends, despite trying to push them away. The fact that Blaise had had the courage to ask them for help made Harry respect him all the more.

Ron, Ginny, and Beatrice nodded as well, despite their confusion. Blaise reciprocated their nods and let out a breath. It comforted him to know that he had people like them looking out for him, even if they all didn't understand his request. Just knowing that they were there for him was enough.

Blaise nodded again, more at ease, and offered his arm to Beatrice. He then ushered them all through the mansion and out the large glass back doors into the garden.

The adults were lingering at the edge of the grand patio area near a small serving cart, upon which had been set a stack of neatly cut strips of parchment, several quills, and two ink pots. Mrs. Zabini stood directly by this cart, wringing her hands nervously. Seeing this, Mr. Zabini put an arm around her shoulders, silently offering her his support and strength.

Clearing her throat, Mrs. Zabini's gaze locked on the Grangers. "Tom, Jane, in my planning for this evening, I was told of something that you and Hermione do to bring in the new year. I believe it's called a Sky Lantern Ceremony?" She glanced at Harry for confirmation.

After receiving an encouraging nod from him, she continued, "Since tonight is all about honoring our daughter, if you don't mind sharing, I thought we could keep that tradition going."

Holding his sobbing wife, Mr. Granger simply nodded, unable to speak due to his own overwhelming emotions. Mrs. Zabini gave them a watery smile and went on to explain the Sky Lantern Ceremony. They were asked to take a piece of parchment and write down something like a dream, a wish, a hope, a prayer… Anything, really, as long as it was something they felt they would like to see in the coming year.

Blaise felt shaky as he moved toward the serving cart. So many emotions were coursing through him that he felt he was being anchored to the ground. It made him nauseous and caused difficulty moving. I've really got to learn how to control this, he thought.

After another step or two, the nausea was gone and his limbs moved easier. Concern and confidence came at him with the strength of an Unforgivable Curse. At the squeeze of his shoulder, Blaise looked to his left and found Harry staring at him with the same concern he himself felt coursing through his body.

"All right, Blaise?" Harry asked softly.

Not wanting to lie, Blaise shook his head. He could see the questions in Harry's eyes and quietly said, "Later."

Harry nodded and looked over Blaise's shoulder at someone. A second later, Blaise looked down as a warm hand slid into his. Beatrice smiled comfortingly up at him. The love he felt doubling at her touch reflected in her eyes as she gazed at him. He gave Harry a grateful look before turning his attention back to Beatrice.

She ran her other hand along his arm. "Come on."

She led him over to the serving cart and picked up two quills and two slips of parchment. She handed one of each to Blaise and the two moved over to the patio table.

It only took a moment for Blaise to decide what to write. There was only one thing he wanted more than anything. Putting quill to parchment, he carefully wrote: I will find my sister.

Mrs. Zabini instructed everyone, once they were finished writing, to roll up their bit of parchment and tie it to one of the paper lanterns. She then waited patiently while everyone did as directed. "Before we light our lanterns and send them into the sky, I would like to say a few words," she said when she regained the attention of her guests.

She looked to her left, where the Grangers stood. "Pietro and I can't even begin to express our gratitude for all that you've done for Hermione. I honestly don't even think there are words for how grateful we are." She sniffled and took a few breaths as she ran her handkerchief under her eyes. "Hermione may be ours because she is of our flesh and blood, but she is just as equally yours, more so even, because you raised her."

Reaching out, she took Mrs. Granger's hand and squeezed. "You raised a kind-hearted, brilliant, thoughtful, beautiful young woman and I, for one, couldn't be prouder of how she's turned out and that's due to your care. Your love. So, I'm not only lighting this lantern for Hermione, I'm lighting it for the two of you." She turned her gaze to her son. "And for Blaise, our funny, charming, and incredibly wonderful son. You've been so strong this past week. Stronger than anyone your age should have to be. Thank you for being such a pillar of strength at a time when one was sorely needed. We love you so much."

Tremors ran through Blaise's long frame, the strength of his mother's words making him unsteady. If not for Harry's subtle shift and quick grab of his arm and Beatrice's tight arm around his waist, Blaise's legs would have certainly given out. Distrusting his voice, Blaise bowed his head in thanks to his parents.

"All right, Blaise?" Harry whispered, keeping his attention on Mrs. Zabini.

"Yes," Blaise whispered back, shifting his weight more toward Beatrice as his mother called Harry to her.

As Harry moved forward, Ron quietly traded places with Luna to take his place beside Blaise. He didn't take Blaise's arm, as Harry had done, but he stood close enough that Blaise could brace himself if needed. Beatrice caught Ron's eye and mouthed, thank you, to which Ron replied with a quick nod.

Mrs. Zabini explained that because they were honoring Hermione, she wanted to light the lanterns the Muggle way; with matches. Harry removed a match from the box she handed him and struck it with an expert hand. As he held the flame to the fuel cell, he reminded Mrs. Zabini to wait about thirty seconds before releasing the lantern.

"For my family," Mrs. Zabini whispered a few seconds later.

As the lantern floated up, Mr. Zabini held his out slightly to Harry. "For my children," he said as Harry lit the fuel cell. "May they always know how much they are loved."

The Grangers, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, Mr. and Mrs. Graphook, the four Weasleys, Beatrice, Luna, Harry. One by one, the lanterns were lit and released, some with a quiet sentiment, others without a word, until the only one left was Blaise.

As Harry approached, match ready to be lit, the expression on Blaise's face gave him pause. Furrowed brow, bottom lip trapped between teeth, he knew the expression well. The number of times he had seen Hermione give him that same look was countless. He arched his brow questioningly.

"At our Coming of Age party, Hermione told me she's horrible at speeches," he began so quietly that only Harry, Ron, and Beatrice could hear him.

Ron and Harry grinned. They were both well aware of just how Hermione fared when it came to public speaking. "I told her I guessed it was a good thing I'm brilliant at them," Blaise continued with the hint of a smile, remembering the moment. A second later, the slight smile was gone and his brow furrowed. "I don't think that statement will hold true tonight."

Beatrice reached up and tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear. "Just speak from the heart," she told him kindly. "Or don't speak at all. There's no rule that states you have to say anything right now."

"No, I have to do this," Blaise determined, taking a deep breath.

A weight came down on his shoulder. With surprise, Blaise turned his head toward Ron. The lanky, freckle-faced ginger gave him a nod. "We're here for you," he stated.

Out of all of Hermione's friends, Ron had been the most resistant to a friendship with Blaise. It wasn't surprising due to the fact that Ron was incredibly loyal. He was also the most volatile of the four. The most distrustful. Blaise could feel it every time Ron was near, and yet, here he was just as resolute in his statement of being there. Stunned, all Blaise could do was nod.

Clearing his throat, Blaise finally looked at the rest of the party. Beatrice's words echoed in his head. Just speak from the heart. He took a steadying breath. "For over six years, Hermione was nothing more to me than the Muggle know-it-all that my friends and I always looked down on and made fun of." He cast an apologetic look at the Grangers. "I'm not proud of those moments. In fact, I'm disgusted that I ever treated my sister like she's any less than the beautiful human that she is. Of course, I didn't know Hermione was my sister back then, but that's no excuse. I can't apologize enough for those years."

He inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly. "I know this will never make up for words and actions, but from the instant I found out that Hermione was my little sister, my twin, I've done my best to be the brother I've always wanted to be. The brother she deserves."

Blaise didn't need their accepting smiles, or their sweet words, to know he was forgiven. It vibrated through him like the pluck of a guitar string. He did appreciate it all the same.

Stepping into the circle slightly, he turned and faced his fellow Hogwarts classmates. "I want to thank you for being here with me, with my family. I know there's a sordid history between us, but I can't thank you enough for everything you've done, not only for Hermione while she's adjusted to being a Zabini, but also for me," he told them sincerely. "I've gone through a lot in the last six months and you've stood by me through all of it. You're still standing by me today."

He gave them a smile etched in sadness. "Even if the only reason you're standing here is because of Hermione, I want you to know how much it means to me that you're here at all. I've come to think of you as friends and I hope you think the same of me. If not now, then some day."

Though they remained silent, it was clear how they felt. They were there for him every bit as much as they were for Hermione. Even Ron, though to a smaller degree. It made his lips lift the tiniest bit in a smile.

"Ahem, speaking of friends," he pressed on, facing the Malfoys. "There's one other important person missing from tonight's festivities. Draco. My best mate. Like Hermione, he's lost right now, but rest assured, he will find his way back to us."

Blaise fought a grimace as something acrid crept through him. He focused his gaze on Mr. Malfoy, who cut his eyes away after a beat. Odd, Blaise thought. Lucius Malfoy had never been one to shy away from staring someone down with his piercing glare. The funny thing was, though, Blaise couldn't recall if Mr. Malfoy had ever really looked him in the eyes.

"So, tonight, I not only honor Hermione, I honor him." Again, he turned, settling his sights on Beatrice. "And you, my beautiful bride-to-be, you are my light in the dark. My beacon. When my parents told me of our betrothal, I never expected to feel this way so quickly."

They drew together like magnets, slowly and strongly. "I love you," Blaise said, wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her even closer. "And I can't wait to marry you."

Beatrice rose up on her tip-toes, pressing her lips to his in a soft kiss. "I love you, too."

Together, they walked back to their places in the circle. Blaise held up his lantern for Harry. He watched silently as the flame consumed the fuel cell of the lantern, slightly hypnotized by the orange-red glow. For Beatrice, Draco, and Hermione, he thought as he watched the lantern rise. I will find you, little sister. I swear I will find you.

As the lantern rose higher, he closed his eyes, not wanting to see it disappear. Arms wrapped around him in a tight hug, drenching him in comfort. Blaise welcomed the embrace, clinging to the small frame as though it were a lifeline.

Quiet sobs broke through the recesses of his mind and he clung to Luna tighter. He was positive it was Luna hugging him. None of the others had taken such liberties with him yet, and his mother's hugs were quite different. More motherly. No, this was definitely Luna.

More bodies converged on him, grasping his shoulders, rubbing his back. It wasn't until a second pair of arms encased him that he realized that he was the one crying. His body shook with the force of his sorrow as he fought for breath.

When he finally quieted, he was emotionally exhausted. He didn't think he had ever felt so tired in his entire life. Not even when Draco had been at St. Mungo's. He pulled away from Luna's and, who he came to find out was, Ginny's hugs. He wiped his nose on a handkerchief, glancing at his friends and fiancée sheepishly. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize, Blaise," Ginny told him. "It's perfectly all right for you to let your emotions out."

"Thanks. It's a little embarrassing, though," Blaise confessed. "I'm not usually like this. Emotional, I mean."

Harry chuckled. "We won't hold it against you."

A large blanket suddenly appeared near them. Blaise looked around at his mother and smiled. "Thanks, Mum," he called.

She nodded. "Refreshments will be served soon," she called back.

Ron smiled. "Wicked."

The six of them moved over to the blanket and sat. As they got settled, Beatrice conjured a large bowl and lit a fire of blue flames inside it. Hermione's four friends instantly smiled and began reminiscing about how she was always conjuring those flames in jars to carry around when it was cold out. This led to other conversations about Hermione.

"Have any of you been to see Draco?" Blaise asked after a while.

They all shook their heads. "How is he?" Luna inquired.

Blaise ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily. "That bad?" Ginny asked.

"I've never seen him like this," Blaise told them. "He's shut himself in his room and won't let anyone in to see him. Narcissa says Rookin's the only one he'll let in. He's drinking himself unconscious, smoking, hardly eating… I'm worried."

His sentiments were echoed in the faces of the others. Luna excused herself. They all watched as she walked over to the patio table where the adults had settled themselves. She spoke to Mrs. Malfoy briefly, the conversation ending in smiles and a hug. "What was that all about?" Blaise questioned when she came back.

"I asked Mrs. Malfoy if I could come over in the morning to call on Draco."

Ron's brow furrowed. "What for?"

Luna shot him a glare. "He's having a rough time, Ron. He needs us just as much as Blaise."

"I think that's an understatement, Luna," Blaise stated. "He's devastated. Broken. He's blaming himself for Hermione being taken."

Harry's brow arched in surprise. "How do you know? I thought you said he wasn't letting anyone in to see him."

Blaise rubbed the back of his neck and glanced at Beatrice. She was the only one out of the six of them that didn't know about his and Hermione's visions and other various developing abilities. He took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. "Beatrice, I'm sorry, Love," he apologized. "We're about to discuss something that I haven't had the chance to tell you because it's not something that can be written in a letter."

Understanding crossed her features. "If you need me to step away for a bit, I don't mind."

"No, you should hear this," Blaise replied assuredly. "It's just not going to make a lot of sense to you, yet. I promise I'll explain fully when time allows."

"Is that all right with the rest of you?" Beatrice questioned.

They all nodded. They understood that Beatrice was becoming a big part of Blaise's life, as important to him as Draco was to Hermione. They also knew that it was his choice whether to tell her, or not. Harry leaned over to Blaise. "Maybe don't go into the bits involving Hermione," he cautioned.

Nodding in agreement, Blaise rubbed his jaw for a second. "Do you remember that day in the Room of Requirement when I told you all my secret? About the visions and my ability to know what Hermione is feeling?" he inquired, keeping his voice low.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, what about it?"

"Well, that sensing Hermione's feelings thing has expanded to other people," Blaise told them, taking a mug of hot chocolate that Gripa was now serving. "That's why I asked you all to stay by me. I knew I'd be hit hard and didn't know how I'd handle it. Now I guess I do."

"That must be very overwhelming," Luna said matter-of-factly.

Blaise's eyes widened. "It is."

"What's it like?" Ron wondered. "Can you separate who's feeling what? Or is it all a big jumble?"

"Unless I'm alone, or in physical contact with someone, I can't make sense of a damn thing," Blaise confessed. "Not even my own emotions."

"How long has this been happening?" Ginny asked him. "Being able to sense the feelings of others beyond Hermione, I mean."

"Um, I'm not sure exactly."

"Okay, when did you notice it?"

"After Hermione was taken."

Harry pushed his glasses up his nose. "Shouldn't we be trying to figure out a way to help Blaise control this ability instead of worrying about when it began expanding?" he suggested. "Does this thing even have a name?"

"Empathy."

Five pairs of eyes looked at Beatrice. "It's literally the ability to understand and share the feelings of another," she explained. "A person with this ability is called an Empath."

Blaise grinned with pride. "You'll be a Ravenclaw for sure," he predicted. "I told Draco so just after the start of first term."

Beatrice blushed at his comments, smiling shyly. "Is there a way to control it?" Harry questioned, getting them back on track.

Over the next hour, or so, they devised a plan to help Blaise with his Empathic ability. After that, Blaise filled Beatrice in on the abilities he'd developed since Hermione had come to live at Zabini Mansion. When he finished, Beatrice was looking at him in awe and utter bewilderment.

She cupped his cheeks, ensuring he would be able to read her perfectly. "How are you even standing?" she mused.

"Technically, I'm sitting," Blaise quipped with a wide grin.

"With everything you're physically and mentally going through, I'm surprised you aren't in a coma," Beatrice breathed.

Blaise kissed her softly. "I'm all right, Love. I promise."

She looked around at the others. "And this Professor Firenze, he knows what he's doing?"

Luna smiled brightly. "Oh, he's amazing. Very knowledgeable."

"All right," Beatrice acknowledged, convinced. "Is that everything? Or are there things you can't tell me, yet?"

"I've told you all I can for the moment. There's more, but…" His voice trailed off as Beatrice began waving him off.

"I understand."

Harry chuckled and gave Blaise a nod. "If you weren't already marrying her, I'd tell you you should."

Thursday January 1, 1998

12:03 AM

Through the crowd of people, he spotted her. She waved at him, smiling brightly. He went to her, taking her in his arms and kissing her. Her laughter resounded in his ear as he lifted her off her feet and spun around. He loved when he made her laugh.

When he set her down, she grasped his hand and took two steps backward. Not wanting to dance on the crowded floor, he tugged her back to him just hard enough that she fell into him without the two of them losing their balance. Her hands slid up his chest as his went around her waist.

She rested her head on his shoulder, her forehead nestled in the crook of his neck, as they swayed to the slow melody. He sighed with content as he ran his hand up and down her back. He felt her head shift and a small smile tugged at his lips as the soft velvet of her lips brushed against the sensitive skin of his neck.

As the music changed to a faster pace, she slipped out of his arms. He followed after her, but was distracted by someone calling his name. He turned and waved off a group of his Slytherin classmates. Upon returning to his original task of following his raven haired beauty, he found that he'd lost her in the crowd.

He strode forward, searching near the area he'd last seen her. She wasn't there. His eyes scanned the faces of the party guests around him, only he couldn't see their faces because they were half obscured by gold masks. This isn't right, he thought as the room went dark.

Eerie silence fell.

The only sound he could hear was that of his own uneasy breath as he fought to process what was happening. He shielded his eyes with a hand as a blinding light suddenly illuminated above him. When his eyes adjusted, he lowered his hand and took in his surroundings.

A lone staircase stretched out ahead of him, the sight of it nearly bringing him to his knees.

Panic began to rise from his chest, tightening his throat. No. No. No. Not this. Please, not this.

Glass shattered above him.

Fear gripped him as he ran up the stairs.

"Hermione!" he screamed, but no sound came out.

He kept running. Up and up and up.

"Draco!"

BOOM!

Startling awake, Draco sat up. It took him a minute to calm his ragged breathing and get his bearings. Once he realized where he was, he ran his hand through his sweat-dampened hair and swore under his breath. Putting a cigarette in his mouth, he lit the end and took a long drag. He pulled a leg up and rested his arm on his knee, his hand hanging loosely.

The room was dark.

The bright pops of color flaring in the night sky barely registered through the break in the heavy, closed curtains. Draco was seated on the floor, his back propped against the side of his desk, a bottle of firewhisky in his hand. He raised the half empty bottle of amber liquid to his lips and took a long pull, drinking down to the last drop.

He clumsily set the bottle down and watched as it tipped and rolled away, clicking softly as it bumped another empty bottle.

"Draco!"

He pressed his hands to his ears and clamped his eyes shut. No. No. No! He squeezed his eyes tighter and shook his head. No! Get out. Get out!

"Draco!"

He clutched at his chest as he fought to control his increasingly rapid breaths. I can't… Can't go back... Don't want to hear...

He reached behind his head and grabbed the brand new bottle he had taken from his father's study. He knew his father was going to be angry when he discovered all of his firewhisky gone, but he didn't care. Then again, he had been swiping his father's whole store every night since he had been released from St. Mungo's four days ago. No matter how many bottles he took, there would be a fresh supply the next time he went searching.

"Draco!"

He wrenched the bottle open and drank deeply. He was well past drunk and he knew it. He knew and he didn't care. He was ringing in the new year. The burn of the alcohol didn't even make him cough anymore. In fact, he welcomed the near scorching fire. Anything that would drown out the echoing memory of Hermione screaming his name was welcome as far as he was concerned.

He needed everything to stop. The pain. The anger. The grief. He just wanted to be…

Numb.

He took another long drink, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand as some of the liquid dribbled out.

Right now, his parents were partying it up at Zabini Mansion. Being surrounded by people was the last thing he wanted to do. No, he just wanted to sit alone in the darkness of his room and drown himself in liquor. That suited him just fine.

"Draco!"

He tipped the bottle back again, swallowing more and more.

Little fingers pried the bottle away from his hand. "Come now, Master Draco," the tiny elf squeaked, pulling the inebriated Slytherin to his feet. "There's a good lad. You is having enough drink. You is needing a good sleep."

Though it took several minutes, and a lot of slurred, angry grumbling from Draco, Rookin finally managed to get his young charge into bed and a few drops of Dreamless Sleep down his throat.

"Dra…"

Silence.

He closed his eyes and sighed as he leaned his head back. This was what he was looking for. No voices. No haunting images of Hermione unconscious. Just the black sea of abyss.

Soft snores filled the room seconds after Draco's head hit the pillow and Rookin nodded in satisfaction. His large eyes then took in the state of the dark room.

Each day the destruction got worse. It wasn't just the growing number of liquor bottles, either. Books, picture frames, and various trinkets lay in different stages of damage all around the room. There could be something said about the stench, too. Stale air, dirty clothes, multiple ashtrays, not to mention the smell of the young Malfoy himself. With a brief glance at the boy he had practically raised, Rookin began cleaning.

When the room was back to its usual sparkling state and all broken things had been repaired, Rookin climbed up onto Draco's bed. He watched his distraught Master sleep for several minutes, maybe longer, he wasn't sure. He just knew it saddened his heart to see Draco this way. "You is killing yourself, Master Draco," he whispered hoarsely.

His young master was practically living off of a steadily growing diet of firewhisky and cigarettes, only eating real food when he was forced. He refused to see friends, though many had stopped by to look in on him. He even tried keeping the aging house-elf away, for all the good it did him. Rookin was not one to be pushed aside.

After hours of yelling, kicking, and throwing things at Rookin, Draco had been resigned to letting him around. The abuse continued, though it was only verbal. Rookin didn't mind though. He could deal with the harsh words as long as his master was taken care of.

Rookin pulled the covers around Draco's shoulders, tucking him in, and made himself comfortable at the foot of the bed. He fell asleep with a prayer in his heart for his young charge.

**Author's note- Just another quick little message before "signing off." I'm currently editing Chapter Four and it's a bit of a struggle. Once I've finished it and have the go ahead from my lovely fellow author friend who reads everything for me, I will post it and then I'll have only Chapter Five to edit before running out of content. Don't worry. I've got lots more of this story to come, I just haven't written it out yet. I think I've mentioned before that it's going to take me time. I'm not a speedy writer and these past several years have been a struggle in the writing department. I have an original project that I've been working on since 2009 that still isn't finished, so please, bear with me. I don't plan on this taking as long as that, although the first story took forever to finish. I'm really trying and I can't thank those of you who've stuck around and patiently waited for this sequel enough! Those of you that are new to this story of Draco and Hermione, welcome and I really hope everyone is enjoying this! Please feel free to let me know your thoughts, concerns, or anything you may wish to tell me by filling out that little box below! I always try to respond! -Much love, Sarah