She clutched at the bag, sucking until it became a flat plastic pancake.
A throat cleared above her. Muttering. Swearing. Other words resembling the general thought of 'how did this happen?' floated above her.
"I'm starving," she said, brain muddled from finally getting what her body had been craving. "Need more."
Another bag landed in her lap, and she stabbed it viciously with the metal straw. She licked the splatter off her arm and practically inhaled the thick liquid.
"Who did this to you?" Draco asked, his tone more insistent than before.
Ignoring his insistent and increasingly agitated questions, Hermione concentrated on the relief flooding through every cell of her body. She sucked hard on the straw. The second bag flattened quicker than the first.
"This wasn't a normal hit and run that they do to Muggles. They broke their own code. They're not supposed to…. It's expressly forbidden."
Draco's pacing in front of the sofa was getting her motion-sick, and through her singular focus of feeling better, she'd heard what he was saying, but was in no position to acknowledge it. Not when she still had so many unanswered questions about the Freedom Wings Agency, the clients she was supposed to have met that night, and her therapist who wasn't returning her messages. And not when she was still so very hungry.
She sat up fully on the couch. Her wild eyes blazed with the desire for the thing that had quelled the awful sensations she had suffered for the last twelve hours. She tried to stand, but she wasn't strong enough. Yet. All she could vocalize was the groan of her still unsated need.
"More."
"Listen, there are rules about this sort of thing. Without the rules, people die. Specifically, me. So, if they're turning witches and wizards now, I need to know. Just tell me…"
Hermione had enough talk. She had enough of the rules. She grabbed the man-who-knew-what-she-needed by his shirt collar and pulled him down until his nose was even with hers.
"I need more."
His eyes widened and his face grew even paler. "Alright, alright, Granger." He gently patted at her fists until she loosened her grip enough for him to back away. "Just give me a minute."
This time, she sank back into the couch instead of flopping over like a sad fish.
Malfoy's voice held a nervous tremor, but his intentions never wavered. "It's going to cost you…"
"I've got it." Hermione reached inside her blouse, dug around inside her bra and threw one of the extra sacks of coins at him.
Eyebrows raised, he checked the weight of her bag and nodded. "Yeah. Right. Coming up."
As he turned to sort through the large cabinet, Hermione's body quivered restlessly. A new energy coursed through her that demanded the rest of whatever he was taking too long to give her. She launched herself off the couch and stumbled forward, shoving him out of the way.
"Wait…" he said, but didn't move to stop her.
She didn't know what she was looking for, only that she'd know it when she saw it… or smelled it. Hermione closed her eyes and inhaled. There it was, an enticing scent, something powerful. She shoved aside a box of neatly packed bottles, all empty. It was here… or had been…. Her body whirled around, and her nose led her to a small crate on the floor, almost behind the cabinet. She ripped the lid off, tossing its contents over her shoulder. Behind her, Draco caught the insignificant tubes and herbal tinctures before they landed on the floor. When a false bottom appeared, she instinctively yanked a hidden latch until it popped open. Inside was a silver flask with a wolf's head on it. Lifting it up, she inhaled. The odor was exactly what she had been searching for.
"That's the special mix," he said over her shoulder. "You seem to be new at this. Maybe you should have a different…"
She popped the cork and placed it to her lips. As soon as the dark liquid hit her tongue, she felt something within her stir. Something she thought she would never feel again.
A spark.
It ran through her veins, through her chest, all the way through her fingertips and her toes. Everything felt hot and alive.
She spun around. "What is this?"
"It's formulated for my exclusive clients," Draco said, an edge of nervousness in his smile. "You'll have to pay double for that."
"Don't worry, I have it." Hermione stepped over the items littering the floor around her and upended the flask, draining it in one breath. Whatever this stuff was, it made her feel strong. Powerful. She was no longer dying.
She was falling.
The small pouches of coins she had hidden on a cord around her neck jingled together against her chest as her back hit the plush Persian rug. She stared up, watching the flame from the candles reflect on the creases in the hammered bronze tiles on the ceiling.
One beat. Two beats. Three…
Arms lifted her up and set her back onto the couch.
"Well, this was an interesting start to my day," Draco said above her. She felt hands under her blouse, and a tug from around her neck. There was no fight left in her limbs. She couldn't do anything but listen to the jingle of pouches coming undone, coins clinking onto the table to her right.
"Thanks for the payment," he said from somewhere on the other side of the room.
She heard the tinkle of glass, probably Draco trying to clean up after the mess she'd made of his stash. A stack of papers landed next to her on the ottoman.
"You just bought yourself everything I know," he said, his voice nearby this time. "Whoever did this to you is well above my paygrade and I don't want that kind of trouble breathing down my neck after you leave."
But Hermione didn't want to leave. She wanted to grill Draco on everything he knew, since he seemed to know a lot about what was happening to her. Ask him why he so readily recognized her symptoms. Wanted to know why, in Merlin's name, she felt so much better after drinking blood.
Also, why couldn't she move?
Draco must have read the panic in her eyes, because he nodded knowingly. "It's supposed to make them feel extra. Or that's what they tell me. The sedative should wear off in about an hour. Personal safety, you understand."
Hermione understood nothing but the pumping blood which eased the symptoms that had plagued her since she'd missed a day of her life. Her gaping mouth strained to ask the questions burning inside her, but Draco Malfoy, the first person she'd met who had any clue what might have happened to her, dismissed her prone form on his couch with a hand wave.
"Whatever you got yourself into, I don't want to know."
