Author's Note: In this chapter we find out about Hermione's demons! Hope you like! Please make sure to review! Also, as always, a wonderful shout-out to my Beta, StoneFeather30135! So glad she finds all my silly errors!
Disclaimer: All this wonderfulness belongs to the fantastic J.K. Rowling…well, except the plot. Wish I got paid for writing this…but I don't.
Letting It All Go
Chapter Three: Dance in the Dark
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
"Baby loves to dance in the dark. 'Cuz when he's lookin'
She falls apart." – Lady Gaga
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Hermione made sure the children were indeed in bed and fast asleep before returning to the living room where she had left Draco sitting. She stopped just inside the doorway and observed him. He was turning the remote to her television over and over in his hand. She smiled. He would most certainly be trying that out within the next few days; she knew his curiosity would win over his mistrust of anything Muggle.
She cleared her throat and he dropped the remote onto the couch before standing up to face her. She took a step towards him and held out her hand. "Malfoy," she cleared her throat, "Draco…I'm ready to show you my secret now."
His brow furrowed, but he took her hand anyways. She tightened her hold and led him into the kitchen, "Sit." She stated motioning for him to sit at the counter. He watched as she pulled two large wine glasses from the cabinet. She placed them side by side in front of Draco and then sat down on the other counter chair. She glanced at the wine glasses and closed her eyes. Draco wondered what was going on inside her head and why she had placed the empty glasses in front of him. He waited patiently for her to explain.
After a few moments he heard her take a deep breath, when he glanced back at her; her eyes were open once more and she was staring intently at him. He took in the paleness of her face and the frizziness of her hair. She really still looked the same as she always had, but he could tell by the troubled look in her eyes that something was bothering her.
Hermione was unsure of how to begin but she knew that if she didn't tell him tonight, he would find out eventually. She cleared her throat, "Draco, I'm an alcoholic." When he didn't respond or show any emotion, she continued, "I have been for quite a while now…about six years actually." She got up from the counter and bent to the cabinet where Draco had stumbled upon her liquor earlier, "I keep a stash of wine and firewhisky down here behind a board so no one finds it…but it looks like you might already know that." She finished as she placed the half empty bottle of firewhisky on the counter then stopped to fix the board Draco had disturbed earlier. She raised an eyebrow as an inquiry.
Draco smirked and leaned forward to take the bottle from her. He poured some into each of the wine glasses before setting the bottle back in front of her. "Yes, I stumbled upon it earlier, but I had no idea what it meant. It's actually what I was trying to ask you before Weasley showed up."
Hermione snorted, very unladylike, and sat back down, "Oh, Ron; he's the reason I drink."
"Interesting." He reached for his glass and took a sip. Hermione reached for hers and downed the entire thing. She didn't even sputter as the hot liquid went down her throat. Draco stared at her in wonder. "So, you do this often then?"
Rolling her eyes, she added more whisky to her glass, "Obviously. I did say that I'm an alcoholic."
"You're not getting treatment then?"
"Well, no one but Ron knows…and now you."
He sipped his beverage and evaluated the situation before him, "Alright, so you're an alcoholic, but only your ex-husband knows…how does that work?"
Finishing her second glass she set the bottle aside, for now. She stared at Draco's glass, wishing it was possible for her to only take little sips at a time, whereas she liked to down the whole glass at once.
"After Rose went away to Hogwarts for her first year, I began to drink more than just my usual one glass of wine a night." She splayed her left hand out on the counter and looked at her empty ring finger, "Ron began spending more and more time away on Auror missions and Hugo was still young enough that I was forced to stay home with him. I was lonely and just wanted my husband home with me, but the thing was, I loathed him. I hated that he would leave me for weeks at a time to run off gallivanting with the other Aurors while I was stuck at home with Hugo. Mind you, I love Hugo to pieces, but Harry never left Ginny alone with their children. Harry only took missions close to home. So inevitably, I began to drink three or four glasses, maybe even the entire bottle of wine, a night."
Draco stayed silent while she told her tale and watched as she drank down two more glasses of whisky. He could tell she was becoming tipsy, but chose to keep his mouth shut. It wasn't really his place to say anything.
She emptied her glass again before continuing. "Ron and I began to fight about the subject, so reluctantly, he quit being an Auror and went to work with his brother, George, at the joke shop. You would think that with him being home more often it would make things better; that we would go back to being a happy family and my drinking would stop, but it didn't. Instead we fought more; he still spent too much time at work and not enough time at home…and I moved from wine to firewhisky." As if to emphasize the point, she took another drink.
"Then, one night during Rose's second year at school, Ron came home from work earlier than usual. Hugo was in bed and I was trashed, puking in the bathroom. Up until then, Ron had no idea about my drinking, but when he found me in the bathroom, empty bottle of Odgen's next to me, he knew. He helped me clean up and then carried me into our bedroom. I was crying hysterically asking him to make the pain go away. And you know what he said?"
Draco raised his eyebrows and shook his head. Foregoing refilling her glass, Hermione took a swig from the nearly empty bottle, "He told me, 'Fine, Hermione, I'll make the pain go away. I'll make my pain go away. When Hugo leaves for school at the end of the summer, I want a divorce.' Of course that made only made me cry harder, but what could I do? I was drunk and upset; I didn't really love him anymore. So I agreed and he left me alone that night, and every night after. I thought that he would tell everyone about my drinking and make a fool out of me, but he didn't. I think he was embarrassed he hadn't known about it sooner and put a stop to it. As soon as Hugo and Rose left for school the following September, Ron and I filed for divorce stating that we had 'irreconcilable differences'. No one even blinked an eye at our divorce; I think most of our family and friends knew we were having some kind of problems. Ron kept the house and made me move out, so I bought this flat. He promised we would have joint custody of the children, but after I quit my job at the ministry and started Healer training, he ended up having them more often than me."
Draco was surprised to hear how she and Weasley had come to be divorced. He had heard that they simply didn't work out. Weasley had certainly made sure one knew his wife was a drunk. He really was a little weasel, wasn't he? He glanced at the empty bottle and then at his still half full glass. He pushed it towards Granger and watched as she eager drank the contents. She was indeed a lush, wasn't she? "So, Granger, do you drink like this every night?"
She laughed drunkenly, "Certainly not. I have come a long way since the early days. I usually only drink when I have to deal with Ron…like tonight." She tried to stand up from her chair but stumbled right back down, "I can go days or even weeks without drinking a single drop, I have to because of my job, but damn it, as soon as I have to deal with that bloody bastard, here I am, totally cankered." She flew into a fit of giggles.
Draco got up and threw the empty bottle into the trash. He then took their glasses and proceeded to wash them, dry them, and put them back into the cupboard he had seen her pull them out of. He turned to look at her. Her eyes were blood shot, she was swaying on her seat, and unknowingly to her, and she had tears running down her cheeks. That bastard, Weasley, really had no idea what he had done to her, did he? Here he was staying with Granger so that she could provide him with therapy, when in reality; she was the one who probably needed the therapy.
What the bloody hell was he going to do?
He could leave and go back to the Manor…after he had tried torching it, his mother had started to rebuild it. She would probably love to have him back home. In fact she had said as much every single time she had come to St. Mungo's to sign him out of the Psych Ward. Even though the Manor probably looked completely different, there was no way he could do that right now. Too many memories of Astoria lingered there. He had fallen in love with her there.
"Granger, if you're not up to me being here, I can certainly leave. I can find somewhere else to stay. There's always the Leaky Cauldron or another hotel."
Hermione held onto the counter to steady herself as she gingerly stood from her seat, "Don't be ridiculous, Malfoy. I asked you to stay here so I could give you therapy, and I will do just that. I just can't promise that I'll be sober every single night. Remember, I only drink at night after my children are asleep." She tentatively took a few steps towards the door.
Draco was watching her with his arms crossed as he leaned against the refrigerator. Hermione was swaying on her feet; it was a miracle she was even standing. Odgen's Old Firewhisky was the strongest in the Wizarding world and she had consumed almost half a bottle. He remembered getting sloshed on it many times after the War had ended—before he had gotten with Astoria.
Hermione was nearly to the doorway when she lost her balance and plunged forward. "Bollocks!" she yelled throwing out her arms to stop the blow of the doorframe; but the pain never came. She opened her eyes to realize that Draco had somehow caught her just in time. It wouldn't have been the first time she fell drunkenly, but it was definitely the first time someone had been there to catch her before she hurt herself. She began to cry, "Oh, I'm so sorry. It's your first night here and I'm a disaster."
Draco let them slide to the floor never letting go of her petite form. He never noticed because he was always so distracted at the hospital, but she was certainly much slimmer than she had been back in Hogwarts, and that was saying something seeing as she had two children. He helped her sit on the floor and hoped that her children hadn't heard her shout.
"It's alright, Granger, no need for the tears. Everyone gets drunk and falls down sometimes. Do you need help going to bed?"
She nodded and wiped her face on the sleeve of her shirt. She was really embarrassed. Here she was sobbing and a drunken mess in front of her school nemesis. He probably thought she was a nutcase. This thought caused her to laugh and Draco was now officially staring at her like she was insane, "I just had a funny thought, but never mind that. If you wouldn't mind just helping me up the stairs, I can make it from there."
He nodded and stood bringing her with him. She closed her eyes at the head rush she felt at moving so quickly. Hermione turned off the kitchen light and then they began their way down the hall. Hermione's head was already pounding from the effects of the whisky. Tomorrow morning she would need some of her hangover potion for sure. Just as they were passing the study, Hermione felt a wave of nausea.
"Oh, no…" She let go of Draco's arm and bee-lined into the downstairs bathroom. Throwing herself on the floor she flung the toilet seat up and as the entire contents of her stomach made a spectacular reappearance. She was sick for a good ten minutes, and when she was finished she flushed the toilet and sat back against the tub. She grabbed a spare washrag and wiped her sweaty face and mouth. She looked up into the doorway and found Draco leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. He was watching her with concerned eyed that brought fresh tears to her eyes.
At seeing her start to cry, Draco pushed himself away from the doorframe and knelt down to her, "Are you alright?" He tried to catch her eye, but she was doing a good job of staring at the tiled floor.
She shook her head causing her frazzled hair to flop back and forth. She smelled of sour whisky, sweat, and tears. She felt like a train had hit her. But the worst part of the entire situation was that she'd felt this way before. The only difference this time was that Draco was there being ridiculously nice when he really had no right to be. Actually, that was probably the worst part of the situation.
"No. I feel like shit, to be honest."
"That's to be expected."
"Yes. I guess you're right." She pushed herself up to sit on the side of the bathtub. "I really need to get to bed. It's really late, and the kids will be up and expecting a trip into Diagon Alley in the morning. You heard them at dinner; they're beyond excited for this upcoming year."
"Then let's get you to bed, shall we?"
She nodded and allowed him to help her up once more. This time they made it upstairs and even all the way into her bedroom without any problems. Draco helped her pull back the bed sheets and turned around as she undressed. When she coughed he knew it was safe to turn around. She was propped up against her pillows, and she looked dreadful. She was going to be feeling the effects of tonight all day tomorrow.
"Well, I'll let you get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning." Draco turned to go and was almost at the door when Hermione stopped him.
"Malfoy, will you turn off the light?"
"Sure, Granger." He clicked the light off and grabbed the bedroom door to close on his way out.
"Actually…" he stopped walking, "Will you sit with me for a minute? My head is feeling a little clearer, and I have a few questions I want to ask you."
With a sigh he walked back into the room and closed the door so the children wouldn't hear them talking. It was surprisingly dark in the room, but he didn't dare turn on the light—it would only make her sick. There was a small glow from her alarm clock.
"Thank you."
"Sure. I figured the questions would start eventually…why not when you feel like shit?"
"Don't be rude, Malfoy."
"I have a question of my own: Why do you switch from calling me Malfoy or Draco?"
She tilted her head, "It depends on my mood. If I'm irritated with you, it's Malfoy; if things are peachy, it's Draco."
"Of course."
She smoothed down her quilt, "Be nice, please. I'm just curious about a few things."
He leaned back against the bottom part of her bed, "Alright, Granger, I'll play nice since you're not feeling one hundred percent."
"Thank you." She took a deep breath and decided just to get started, "Why did you agree to come stay here?"
Of course she would start with the most difficult first. He decided to just be honest, "Because my life really couldn't get much worse than it is right now, so I figured; what the hell? Just let the Know-it-all try a whack at fixing me."
"What if I can't fix you?"
"Then I guess…I might just not survive this thing."
Hermione inhaled sharply, "Please, don't say that."
"Granger, attempting to jump off the roof yesterday was not my first shot at ending my life."
She shifted, "I know. Ernie told me about it before we left the hospital. You were still inside the Manor when you set fire to it. Before that you tried slitting your wrists. You also drank some sort of potion. Your son found you that time."
Draco scowled at her for knowing so much about him. He was getting agitated talking about himself and his suicide attempts. "Here's the thing Granger, after Scorpius found me I refrained from hurting myself as far as that again. Yesterday was the first time in a while that I was feeling ridiculously low."
"Why was yesterday so different?"
"It was our anniversary."
"Oh."
They were quiet for a while. Hermione played with a string that was hanging on the corner of her quilt and Draco was fidgeting with a button on the cuff of his shirt. Hermione looked up and watched him for a minute.
"We can get you some clothes tomorrow."
"Alright. Did you want to go to bed now?"
"Soon…right now I want you to roll up your sleeves."
"What?" He stared at her if she had sprouted another head, "You're joking with me right?"
"No, Draco, I'm not." She crawled down the bed and kneeled in front of him. She wasn't bothered by the fact that she was only wearing panties and a large t-shirt. She needed to see something to find out if her suspicions were correct.
He groaned, "Fine." Draco took his time unbuttoning the sleeves and then rolled both up to his elbows. He held out his arms for her to see and turned his face to the side so he couldn't see her reaction. It was bad enough he had to deal with it every day. He heard her intake of breath and then felt her gently take each wrist in one of her hands. He turned his head to face her slowly, suddenly wanting to see what she thought.
Hermione couldn't believe what she was seeing; Draco's arms were full of scars and fresh cut marks. She took his wrists in her hand being careful not to disturb him. She wanted to see them up close. She had never seen or known anyone who had been in so much pain that they needed to cut their own skin.
"May I touch you?" she asked so quietly he almost didn't hear her. He met her steady gaze and nodded. She slowly slid her finger over some of the deep scars. They felt smooth, but wrinkly at the same time. She had a few scars of her own, but nothing of this magnitude. Her scars were from the War or when she was a child…and a few were even from Crookshanks. She let her finger glide over a fresh wound. She felt him flinch, so she quickly moved on. When she was finished examining his arms she gently rolled his sleeves back down and re-buttoned the cuffs.
She plopped backwards onto her bottom and sat Indian style. She placed her elbows on her knees with her cheeks in her hands. She stared Draco in the eye; it wasn't angry or accusatory—she was just simply looking at him. Hermione didn't speak and Draco didn't say a word either. They sat that way for quite some time just looking at one another.
Hermione spent the time wondering exactly what Draco's life might have been like growing up. Eventually she would come to ask him about it, but not tonight. It was late and they both needed to get some sleep soon. She knew that Lucius had died about fifteen years ago and that Draco had been forced to take over the family business even though he was only 28 years old. She knew that in a normal situation, a wizard would not become head of the family until his late forties or early fifties. Draco certainly had a lot on his plate, not the mention the death of Astoria.
It really was no wonder he was at his breaking point. She had moments where she thought she was near her breaking point as well…but instead of reaching for razor blades she reached for whisky bottles. She fell into despair when the night crept in and he lived in his despair all day long. She hated Ron for making her feel so low that she needed to drink her pain away. When she has to deal with her ex-husband she holds it together in front of him, but he always makes her feel like dirt, so then late at night she drinks herself stupid.
She could tell by his eyes that he was starting to get tired. She didn't blame him; she was exhausted as well. Finally she leaned back with a sigh, "I will let you get to bed now. Thank you for taking care of me tonight. It was rather nice of you, and you didn't have to."
Draco stretched after he stood from the bed, "No, it's alright, Granger. I didn't mind."
She nodded and slid back under her quilt. Draco opened the door and stood in the frame looking back at her. She smiled sleepily, "Go and try to get some rest. There is dreamless sleep potion under the sink if you need it."
"Goodnight, Granger."
"Goonight, Draco."
He closed the door and she settled down in her bed. She listened for his footsteps to fade down the hall. She was still slightly woozy from the alcohol, but she felt a lot better now than she had earlier. Now, she just needed some sleep. With the picture of Draco's scars in her mind she fell into sleep.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Hermione bolted up in bed with a gasp. She had been dreaming about something really intense, causing her to feel like she had just run a marathon. As soon as she opened her eyes, she hissed in pain as the daylight hit them. She flung herself back under the quilt and moaned as a pounding headache took up residence in her skull. Memories of the night before began to trickle back into her consciousness and she moaned again, but this time it was in mortification. She couldn't believe that she'd allowed Ron to get to her…and then drank herself stupid in front of Draco. What had she been thinking?
She laid there trying to stop the feeling of embarrassment in the darkness under the quilt. She knew she needed to get up, get dressed, and then make the children breakfast. Something was off though; she could swear she smelled bacon and eggs already. Was her mind seriously messing with her this morning? Tentatively, so she didn't hurt her head worse than it was, she peeked out of the quilt into the sunlit room.
There, sitting on her nightstand, was a tray of food. There were scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and a half of a grapefruit on the tray. She sat up to examine it even more closely. There was a steaming cup of tea, a small glass of milk, and a vial of potion. She noticed a little note folded against the vial and reached for it.
Opening it she read:
Granger,
Your children were up ridiculously early. I told them you had a migraine and made them breakfast. Take the potion…you will feel much better for it. Make sure you eat everything…or the potion will not work, as you probably already know. The children and I will stay downstairs until you're awake and ready.
They keep nagging me to take them into Diagon Alley…but I thought it was best if they weren't seen in public with me right now.
Draco
Hermione set the note back on the tray and leaned back against her pillows. She turned her head to look at the alarm clock. It read: 11:35am. She hadn't slept this late in a long time. She put her face in her hands. She was really making a great impression. Fighting with her ex, getting drunk, and oversleeping. Poor Draco was downstairs babysitting her children while she slept the day away.
Deciding she better get a move on, she drank the potion down in one gulp, gagged, and set it back on the tray. She then helped herself to the delicious looking breakfast her houseguest had made. She was especially glad he had taken the time to place a warming spell on the food because she had the feeling it had been sitting there for a while.
Forty five minutes later, Hermione was freshly showered and dressed, not to mention feeling much better thanks to the potion and Draco's breakfast. She had magically dried her hair and let it hang down for once instead of throwing it into a ponytail. She didn't know why, but she applied a little bit of makeup and even put on some earrings. She stood in front of her long mirror, assessing her choice of outfit for the day. It was summer after all, and they would be walking around Diagon Alley. She had decided on a pair of light jean shorts, a pale pink t-shirt, and her favorite sandals. She felt she looked appropriate enough for the day, so she grabbed her purse and headed downstairs.
She peered into the study and found that empty so she walked to the kitchen. That room was empty too. She slung her purse on her shoulder and stepped into the doorway of the living room. She was just about to say something, but decided to keep her presence unknown for a moment. She couldn't help the smile that slid onto her face.
Draco was situated on the couch between her two children. They were explaining to him how the television worked. Hugo was holding the remote out of Rose's reach, and Draco was trying to get him to share. It was a very humorous sight. Rose kept whining, "Come on Hugo, he said share! I want to show him how to record programs!"
Hugo would whine back, "Not now, Rose! I want him to see that channel I was telling him about."
Draco was shaking his head at them, "If you two wake your mother, I will be very disappointed. There's plenty of time for you to show me both of these things…whatever they are."
Hermione leaned against the doorframe and enjoyed the show for a few minutes longer. Clearly, Draco was good with children. She placed a finger upon her lip and wondered how he was with his own son. She knew that Rose and Scorpius were in the same year at Hogwarts. She would have to discuss Scorpius with Rose at later date.
Finally, deciding it was time to give Draco a break, she cleared her throat. Hugo dropped the remote immediately and Rose bounded over the back of the sofa, "Mum! How are you feeling? Mr. Malfoy said you were feeling off."
Hermione smoothed her hand over Rose's curly red hair, "I'm feeling much better now. Are you two still interested in shopping?"
Hugo ran over to her as well, "Yes! Please mum! I need new robes this year! I'm a Prefect, after all."
Rose rolled her eyes at her brother's antics, "Yes, but I am Head Girl! If anyone is getting new robes, it should be me, little brother."
"You may both get some new robes if you like. It has been a while…we also need to get Draco some new clothes as well, seeing as he has none here." She smiled at Draco who had come to stand behind her children. He was still wearing the outfit he had on yesterday. She felt bad knowing it probably didn't smell that great.
"Yes, mum." Rose and Hugo said at the same time.
"Very well then, let's get going. Coming with us, Draco?" she asked politely.
He hesitated for a moment, and looked at the children; they were both looking at him eagerly. He shrugged, "Sure, why not?"
Rose and Hugo shouted their 'hurray's' and the four of them headed for the door. The two children quickly scurried outside, but Hermione held Draco back for a moment, "I just want to thank you for…well, everything. You're really great with my children, thank you."
Draco smirked, "Not a problem, Granger. I do have a son of my own. Don't know if I could handle more than one…especially with Weasley blood, but I can take care of them if you need me to. You know, in case I'm here and Weasley starts with you again."
She nodded in understanding, "Yes, well…I do appreciate it."
He smirked again, "Let's get going before those kids run off someplace."
Hermione laughed and let him lead the way outside into Diagon Alley.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The next couple of weeks went by rather quickly for Hermione. Most days were good. She would spend time with the children on day trips to London or Diagon Alley, and she would also have her therapy sessions with Draco. The living situation was no longer uncomfortable.
The nights were a different story.
Many times, Ron would send her an owl or floo over in the evening to confront her about the 'Malfoy' situation. He was still threatening her with taking full custody of Rose and Hugo, but so far he hadn't gone through with anything. Harry or Ginny would come by to talk to her as well, but they never once told her that Draco needed to leave. They just kept telling her to do what was best…and in Hermione's opinion, she was.
Each and every time after she had to deal with Ron, Hermione would get drunk beyond belief. And each and every time, Draco took the liberty of taking care of her, despite Hermione's constant pleadings that he didn't have to. He felt that if she was helping him with his grieving, it was the least he could do.
So they settled themselves into a sort of routine.
Too bad things can't always be left alone.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
A/N: Please Review…special thanks to those who have reviewed! Glad to see how you're enjoying this! I should post again next Wednesday!