xThreex
When Draco Malfoy wakes up the next morning, his head isn't as sore as it normally is. Nor is his body for that matter. And for the first time in a long time he remembers the night-or rather evening-before, mostly, he figures, because Granger made him eat. And then throw up. And then somewhere between throwing up and passing out, she'd helped him clean himself up before putting him to bed. He was angry, that she was treating him like a child, but he hadn't had the energy to argue with her. So he let her.
There's something about her he doesn't understand. He hasn't seen her for years since the war ended. She had never gone to his trial, she had never sought him out and he had never even thought about her. And now, all of a sudden, she cares. And he can't figure out why. Nobody else cares, why would she? He was awful to her in school, perhaps more awful to her than most because she was (and clearly still is) Potters little side kick. So why should she care about his wellbeing? Why does she care about what he is or isn't doing to himself? As far as he's concerned she shouldn't, it shouldn't matter. It shouldn't matter to her what happens to him. More importantly she shouldn't waste her time. He has no intentions of changing because as far as he's concerned there isn't any hope left for him. There isn't enough hope in the world to help him.
For the first time in weeks, his mind is clear. For the first time in weeks he can hear his own thoughts clearly and precisely and he hates it. He hates listening to the voices in his head; the screaming and the crying. And this...this is why he doesn't stay sober, why he can't stay sober. Because when he's drunk, the voices go away and the screaming stops and he doesn't feel like a Death Eater. Like a monster. Like someone who isn't even worth the gum on the bottom of ones shoes. The alcohol numbs the pain and the senses and brings relief. And that is what he needs. Not water, not food. Not help.
He climbs off the bed; it takes less effort than most days, and he walks across the small apartment to the kitchen. He pulls open the fridge and when he reaches for a beer he's surprised to find them all gone. Surely he didn't drink THAT much... Although, who is he to be the judge of that? He moves to the cupboard where he keeps England's finest vodka only to find that gone too. And the fire whiskey, and the regular whiskey. And he knows that he didn't drink that much last night. He groans loudly, because it's physically hurting right now, as he tries to think. Thinkthinkthink. And then it makes sense. Granger was here last night. Granger was here AFTER he passed out. Granger must have taken his alcohol with her in an attempt to keep him from drinking. A sort of defensive and very, very obsessive anger washes over him as he rips himself away from the kitchen counter and out of his flat.
A certain witch has a certain price to pay.
X
Hermione wakes up, not only to a bright and sunny day in London, but also to two of her favourite boys sitting on her living room couch watching early morning cartoons and eating their significant breakfast that they had picked up on the way over. Just like every other Saturday morning. She smiles warmly at them as she walks over and collects her own, still wrapped in the bag to keep it warm. "Morning."
"Morning 'Mione," Harry greets her with a brief warm smile.
She sits in between them on the couch and opens her bagel, placing it on her lap before taking a sip of her tea. She can feel Harry's gaze on her, but Ron is far too interested in the cartoon currently running on the television to care.
"So did you take care of that problem?" Harry asks curiously.
"For now. I'm not sure how long it'll last though."
"I think Malfoy is a lost cause Hermione-"
"Malfoy? What about Malfoy?" Ron wonders.
Hermione might have laughed at the fact that Malfoy's name always seems to pull Ron out of any situation, had it not been for the complete tone of distain in his voice. "Harry found Malfoy yesterday."
Ron shrugs, taking a large bite of his bagel. "Didn't know he was lost."
"And I went to see him."
The redhead pauses, mid-chew. "Why?"
"Because I was worried about him.. When he left the morning after we brought him back here he was more hung over than I'd ever seen anyone and yet he was still looking for something to drink. He just...looked awful. And then when I swung by the manor nobody was there and there was a sold sign so I asked Harry to find out where he went. The place is a dive, by the way. Completely disgusting," she informs them, her nose scrunching with distaste.
"Who cares? It's just Malfoy-"
"I care, Ron."
"Why?"
"I'm still trying to figure that out…" she trails off quietly. "It's just...he's all alone, you know? Both of his parents are…gone and he doesn't have anybody else."
"Maybe he likes it that way," Harry suggests.
"That's probably because he doesn't know any different," Hermione whispers.
"I still don't understand what the big deal is. The guy's a git-"
There's a sudden pounding on the door, before an angry 'GRANGER' bellows throughout the living room, and probably the hallway. Harry and Ron look at her skeptically and she sighs, knowing exactly who it is. "Both of you need to behave," she responds sternly.
"GRANGER!"
She pushes herself to her feet and crosses the small-ish living room to the front door.
"GRAN-"
She pulls the door open and he stops yelling in the middle of her name. His gaze narrows at her angrily, his eyes dark and dangerous. He pushes past her, much like the way she had the day before. "Malfoy."
"You have a hell of a lot of nerve Granger! Who the fuck do you think you are?"
"Oh c'mon-"
"If you wanted one you could've just asked, you didn't have to take the whole damn fridge!" His voice resembles that of a growl as he walks into her kitchen. He doesn't even notice Harry or Ron, and if he does he doesn't pay much attention. When he can't find his alcohol anywhere he comes back out, fuming. "Where is it?"
"The fact that you're getting this angry just goes to show-"
"Do you think I give a fuck what that shows? How many times do I have to tell you I don't need your damn help? When is that gonna get through your thick skull?" he snaps, glaring holes through her.
"Look, Malfoy-"
"I didn't come here for small talk, I came here to get back what you took from me. So where is it?"
"Bloody hell Hermione, what did you take?" Ron asks from behind her.
Draco looks past her shoulder to see her two sidekicks sitting on the couch. "Potter and Weasley...fantastic," he mutters sarcastically.
"I only took it to prove that you don't need it."
"Yeah well the only thing you proved was that I do."
She shakes her head. "You only think you do-"
"Think I do, know I do, what's the difference?"
"Why don't you just go buy some more?" Ron suggests, clearly not happy that the blonde is still there.
"Why don't you just mind your business Weaslebee-"
"Hey, c'mon-Ron I told you to behave," Hermione reminds her friend.
Draco is in front of her now, his back to her friends as he looks down at her intently.
"Please Granger…" he whispers.
She looks up at him and the desperation she hears in his voice and sees in his eyes scares her. It upsets her. And she knows she shouldn't enable him, but she can't keep it from him either. Not only is it not her place, but he looks SO desperate and broken than she has to give it back. She looks away, unable to take his gaze on her; she can feel it burning through her. "They're in my bag, behind the door."
He nods and without hesitation he walks towards the front door. He finds the bag-her magical bag-behind the door and picks it up, stuffing it into the pocket of his sweat pants. He's got half a mind to thank her, but chooses not to.
She can't bring herself to turn around as he leaves. She can't bring herself to watch. And so she stands in the middle of the living room with her back to the door, waiting for it to close. It takes longer than she expected for the latch to click, and when it does she finds herself letting out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.
"I like him better when he's drunk."
"Ronald!" She frowns disapprovingly at him before snatching her coffee off of the table and leaving the boys alone; her appetite is ruined.
X
It takes him less than an hour to find his drunkeness with a mixture of beer, whiskey and vodka. It takes two hours for him to begin to stumble and slur his words. And it takes three hours to realize that something-or rather someone-is missing. Granger. Granger and her know-it-all, goody-good, over bearing, over caring self. He sort of...misses her. Sort of. He sort of misses the way she walks around like she owns the place and cleans up after him. He sort of misses the way she scolds him for doing something that's so natural for him now. And the way she cares even though she shouldn't, even though she doesn't know why.
He misses her company, even if it's only been for a couple hours. He misses talking to her, even if it's a just petty argument or a few words here and there. He misses having human contact.
X
She tries really hard to ignore the voice in her head telling her to go back to the dump and check up on him. She tries even harder to ignore the way her chest feels tight when she thinks of him getting himself into trouble. Neither Ron nor Harry can understand her obsession with it, but then neither does she. It's like this fierce protectiveness has fallen over her. She spends all afternoon pretending she isn't thinking about him, pretending that that look of utter desperation on his face and in his eyes isn't haunting her.
It's seven o'clock in the evening when she decides to go. It's late enough that he won't know that she's been thinking about him all day, and early enough to…well she's not sure of that part yet. She walks into the building, holding her breath, as she nods at Max on the way down the hall to Draco's room. She knocks on the door, waiting patiently for him to open it. Again, she hears stumbling and mumbling from inside before the door opens to reveal an inebriated Draco Malfoy. It doesn't surprise her in the least, but it stings.
Draco grins drunkenly at her, moving aside wordlessly to let her in. "I knew you wouldn't stay away Granger."
She bites her lip as she enters the tiny flat. It looks a lot like it did last night, the only difference being the amount of bottles scattered across the room. She frowns, pulling her wand out of her jacket and flicking her wrist to make them disappear. "Did you eat?"
"Had a slice of pizza," he tells her proudly, like it's his biggest accomplishment.
"How long ago?"
"Long."
"How long have you been drinking?"
"Now Granger, you don't really need me to answer that do you?"
She sighs loudly, sadly. "Malfoy this isn't good for you."
His only response is a shrug of his shoulders as he knocks back another sip of beer. She continues to tidy up around them, and only then does she realize that he's wearing the same clothes from yesterday. "You haven't changed."
He looks down at himself before chuckling softly. "I suppose not. Good eye Granger! You deserve a drink for that-"
"No."
"Alright then, a toast!" He knocks back another sip, tilting his head back so far that it knocks him off balance and he falls flat onto the floor. His body lands with a thud, and yet he doesn't feel it.
Hermione sighs, flinching at the sound before bending down to help him up. Once she gets him standing she pulls the bottle from his fingers.
"W-what are you doing?" he slurs, sounding like a small child afraid of punishment.
"You need to clean yourself up."
"I think I'll be the judge of that-"
"Now, Malfoy. Quite being so completely idiotic!" She pulls him down the short hallway to the bathroom and pushes him inside.
"Oi! What are you trying to do, wound me?"
"Nah, you've got that covered quite perfectly."
Without another word she peels his shirt off over his head and tosses it on the ground before pushing his sweatpants off of his hips. They fall into a puddle on the floor around his feet, leaving him in a pair of boxers. And only then does she realize the intimacy of the situation. She can feel the heat rising in her cheeks as she looks him over. He's thin, much thinner than she remembers him being in school.
"Thinking naughty thoughts aren't you Granger?"
Her gaze snaps up to his face then and he's smirking down at her. "Just get in the shower Malfoy."
"You're not gonna start it for me?"
"Now you're just taking advantage-"
"If I was taking advantage of you, you'd know it Granger," he says seductively.
She blinks, taken aback. "Just...do it yourself."
With that being said she spins on her heel and leaves him alone in the bathroom. She doesn't leave him alone, however, because she sits out in the hallway across from the door to wait for him; to make sure that nothing else happens.
He's in the shower for about ten minutes before she hears the water stop. She pushes herself to her feet and then leans her back against the wall, waiting for him. When he emerges, he stops to look at her. "Happy?" He looks drained again, like he's about to pass out. His eyes are drooping, like he's having a hard time keeping them open.
"You should get some sleep."
He nods, and she swallows her surprise as she follows him into the living room. The bed is already pulled out; he mustn't have put it back this morning. He crawls onto the bed, lying flat on his stomach with arms limp at his sides.
"Why does this matter so much to you?" he asks in a soft, tentative voice.
"Honestly?"
"Yes…"
She sighs, sitting on the edge of the hard mattress. "My aunt had a drinking problem. It nearly destroyed her life before she got help. I just...I don't want to see that happen to you…"
"You should, everyone else does."
"I don't."
"Not that it matters, my life has already been destroyed," he mutters.
"That's not true-"
"Do me a favour Granger? If you're gonna help me, against my will, don't lie to me. You know damn well that it is true."
"It doesn't have to be," she whispers.
He falls silent, turning his head away from her.
"Goodnight Granger."
"Goodnight Malfoy…"