Hermione

It was a hard decision. Was I to give into Ron's wishes and once again show that he is right? He'd start getting too cocky. If I did go to rehab, when I return, I would have to start putting Ron back into the mind set that I am right all of the time. That was if I went to rehab. I wasn't sure what to do. Our marriage was turning out poorly. I didn't want to loose Ron. If I went and got better, Ron and I could have children. We did want children. And so, I caved. I said yes to getting help. It was only because I wanted to save our marriage. I wanted to have a healthy, successful relationship with my husband. Ron would be glad to have me gone anyway. He was probably tired of having me around all the time. I didn't blame him. I was a handful when drunk. Though now if we have children, he will be prepared.

"One condition," I said softly and he nodded. "I want it to be muggle."

"Of course," he said as he pulled me into a hug. I didn't hug back. I just let him hold me. I didn't want to hug him back.

"I guess things will get better," I whispered as I rested my head onto his shoulder.

"Much, much better," he mumbled. As he spoke, I felt his nose bury into my hair. I guess my smell didn't bother him much more.

We sat there in silence. Neither of us having enough courage to speak up or break away from the position. I didn't want to leave his arms, anyway. It had been so long since he had hugged me like this. Maybe I just need to agree with him more. If this was the outcome. After a while of him holding me, I hesitantly wrapped my arms around it. It felt amazing to be holding my husband once again. It was as if everything bad had disappeared for that singular moment. Nothing else mattered to us, well at least me. Ron always seemed to have something bothering him, but I couldn't see his face, so I preferred to think he was also at peace in the moment. Of course, we couldn't be happy forever.

"You should limit the drinking you do for now," he suggested, letting go of me.

I frowned and looked up at him. "And why would I do that?"

"So the withdraw doesn't kill you while you're in rehab."

"It won't kill me, Ron." I rolled my eyes at his nonsense. "There will be doctors there to make sure I don't die."

He sighed and brushed hair behind my ear, looking into my eyes. "I'm worried about you, Hermione. I know it'll be ugly while you recover, and that it won't be easy for you at all. Promise you'll write."

"Ron, I'm not leaving forever. And we don't even have a place in mind."

"I know, but I'm just so worried."

"Calm down, okay?" I said quietly before standing. "And I'm not cutting down my drinking."

Ron rolled his eyes and I walked out of the room, drink in hand. Now that our moment was over, a fight was inevitable. Maybe the pattern was now broken now that I agreed to get help, but I wasn't going to risk it and waste my breath on another useless fight. There never was an outcome to our fights. Just angry stomping to opposite sides of the house, or Ron locking himself into his office, so I stayed in the living room. The liquor cabinet was there as well, so it made life easier. Honestly, I couldn't believe that Ron hadn't gotten rid of it, though he probably knew I would just keep the bottles somewhere else. There were only a few bottles in it at a time, so it wouldn't be hard to find a new spot for them. But this topic wasn't very important.

The day went by smoothly. Ron and I didn't talk much during the day. He made dinner, as per usual. We ate silently, as per usual. The next day I had the task of finding a center for me to go to. Ron and I had decided that I pick so I knew what I was going into and was happy with the place I was going to. I went to a near by muggle hospital. There they had a few pamphlets on getting over addictions, but nothing on rehabilitation centers.

This was shaping up harder than I expected it. I didn't know where to start then. I never had to know about these things. I never thought this would be useful, but I never had to research where to find information for research. I usually had it at my disposal in the library at Hogwarts, but I doubted the library would contain information about muggle rehabilitation centers. And I didn't go to Hogwarts anymore, so I wouldn't be allowed into the library. Both seemed to prove as an issue.

I didn't know what to so. And that bothered me. I always knew what to do and now I had no idea what I was doing. It's a terrible feeling not having a plan, especially when you have one for everything else. So when I returned home, I was going to sit down and make a plan. This also proved harder than expected. It was hard to make a plan when you had no idea where to start. Though, I knew that somehow I would figure it out.

After thinking for a while of what to do, I finally decided on how to approach this problem. I decided I would call an addiction hotline. Those help with people in my condition, and probably knew of places to go. And they did. They gave me a list of places to choose from. Now my job was to go and inspect each place. I had to know which one was the best after all. Though, doing this would probably get many peoples' hopes up. So I crossed off places from my list that had unappealing names. That left me with only three left. That was more manageable than ten.

0o0o0o0

I finally decided on the place I would go to. Clouds House. They seemed to care the most and the atmosphere was very welcoming. The house was also beautiful inside and out. It was a place I could see myself getting better in. And they didn't treat the people as patients. Yes there were rules and they had to do certain things as a patient, but they were given chores like a real person, and that was something I knew I would like, especially because I hadn't been allowed to do things on my out for so long. It'd be like when Ron left, except they all trusted me with the jobs and wanted me to do it. Ron did neither.

Once I had decided, I signed up to stay for detox and rehabilitation. They both seemed necessary for my recovery. And after talking with the person I had signed up with, I knew what I needed and understood each of them: a detox and 12-step-rehabilitation. Seemed very cliché when I first learned about it, but as we talked, I realized that it was more than what the movies and TV shows showed. I was hopeful for this to work. As I learned about it, I was excited to have my life back, and in only a week, I would be starting a detox. It seemed frightening, though. I would be cut off completely. No weaning at all. After I stepped foot into the building, I would no longer be allowed to have a drink. And I had heard of people falling extremely ill after being cut off like that. I didn't want to die from withdraw.

When thoughts of dying bothered me, I just thought of the fact that there were people to make sure I would die. It made me feel better for a while. It was even more bothering that detox took an entire week. I would be in the pain for a week. The woman had told me that it wouldn't be a nice process, and there wasn't much they could give me to get over it. I suppose I could get addicted to the medication while my body was looking for something to relieve the feeling.

As these thoughts went through my head, I nursed a drink. I needed it still. I wouldn't start the pain without someone knowing what to do if I had like…a heart attack. I needed it anyway. It calmed me and it was the last week of my drinking. I knew I wouldn't be able to drink once I left because I could relapse. It wouldn't be the best. I would miss the glass of wine at fine dinners, but it was the sacrifice for being sober.

"Shouldn't you get your stuff together?" Ron asked, walking into the living room.

"I have a week Ron, but I suppose I could start packing," I said with a nod.

He sat beside me, putting his arm around my shoulders. "I'll miss you," he whispered and kissed my cheek.

"I'll miss you, too," I replied, resting my head on his shoulder.

Ever since I had agreed to going to rehab, Ron had been more loving. And I enjoyed it, but it seemed odd for some reason. I had several in mind, but couldn't decide which one. Some of them I didn't want to believe either. He was either genuinely happy that I was getting better; no longer cared that I smelled of alcohol; cheating on me. I knew I had no room to judge on the last one, seeing as I had my own bout of…fun, but I was always more than happy to make love to Ron, and he never wanted to.

"I'll help you," he said and stood up, holding out a hand to help me up. I took hold of his hand and stood up.

Before we went up to our room, I finished my drink and set the glass aside. I would clean it later.

"How long will you be gone for?" he asked as we began packing.

"Two months and a week," I replied. "But there's laundry service, so I don't have to pack too much."

"Two months," he repeated with a sigh.

I frowned and moved over to him, hugging him tightly. "Don't worry. It'll be over faster than you think."

0o0o0o0

The first day of detox wasn't too bad. I did have headaches and a little nausea, but I set that all aside to continue setting up my room. Along with my many clothes, I had brought pictures of Ron and me, along with photos of my parents. It made things feel homier, apparently.

The second day was worse. My headaches were so bad, that I couldn't think. The nausea made it almost impossible to eat, but I managed to have small meals throughout the day. The pictures gave me a little motivation to get through the day, though it was a struggle to do it. I kept my curtains closed, knowing the light wouldn't help how my head felt.

The third day seemed like it couldn't get any worse. I was really throwing up now. There was a bin beside my bed incase I was unable to reach the bathroom in time. The bin was used more than the toilet. I could barely get out of bed. My hands were also shaky, making it difficult to hold the bin still. There weren't any accidents too big, but certainly, a clean up crew was needed a few times.

Day four proved that it could get worse. I was just glad that it was half way over. The pain had nearly knocked me unconscious. I was told I was lucky it hadn't because I was still throwing up. If it had, and I continued to throw up, I could've chocked. I didn't know how I could stand it much longer, and hoped that soon the feelings would subside.

On the fifth day, the throwing up slowed down, but I had begun to run a fever. My body wanted to sweat it out, so I was constantly given water or herbal tea. I was told the tea would also help with the symptoms of my detoxing. Since I wasn't throwing up as much, I had decided that I would shower finally. It felt nice to get clean again, though I was sweating only minutes of stepping out.

The fever was gone on the sixth day. And the throwing up had halted, but still, my head felt as if it were about to explode. Because I was feeling better, though, I was sent to talk with a series of doctors to see what kind of medication I should be put on to help get over the addiction.

Finally, on the seventh day, everything was gone. I felt great after taking a shower, though, I knew it was only the beginning. There was so much more to do. Once I had cleaned myself up and looked presentable, I was given my task for the day. It wasn't too much since my body was just coming out of the detox. I was set with the task of laundry.

Simple enough. All I was to do was to wash and fold. Someone else would return clothes to everyone else. When I wasn't folding or putting clothes in the wash, I was able to sit and read. I was really enjoying the day.

The next day I was given the task of dusting. That went a lot quicker than laundry, though there was a lot to dust. I had gotten finished just before lunch, so the rest of the day was left to classes and my own free time. In my free time, I had decided to go into the main lounge where people went to entertain themselves. It reminded me almost of a retirement home. As I stood in the room looking around, I felt someone tap my shoulder. When I turned to see the man, I stood stunned. Standing before me was Draco Malfoy. And I was stuck with him for the next two months.

A/N I know this chapter was a lot longer than the rest, but I really wanted to include the journey and I apologize for any inaccuracies with a rehabilitation center or detox. I only have information from research. Any guesses how the next two months will go for Hermione? Let me know if you like having a longer chapter and don't forget to review!