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Feeling Numb	By : Elocin_the_elven_princess Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 6432 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own HP or any likeness to the characters, they belong to JK Rowling. I also make no money from any of my stories. Rated to be safe for future installments.

Chapter List
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- 2
Hermione slumped against her door. All of the energy she’d pretended to muster up fell away and she dragged herself to her kitchen sink. She munched on a pastry while standing over the sink and brushed her teeth afterwards. She’d get a shower in the morning. She pulled off her shoes and pants and left them trailing behind, amid the other fallen clothes of the week.
She did nothing at home throughout the week, her body drained from expelling the energy required to function at work. Her Saturday’s were spent cleaning the flat. Sundays were for sleeping. She hadn’t read in ages, books were collecting dust on her magnificent bookshelf.
She pulled her jumper and cami off leaving her clad in only her undergarments. She stared at her left arm. The scar, though faint, was white against her pale skin. Mudblood. She frowned, an expression that was common on her face of late. She’d lost her fire. Her drive.
She took out her secret stash of muggle vodka from the dresser drawer and sipped on it. Feeling the warmth of the clear liquid run down her throat and into her body. She didn’t realize how much she’d drank, passing out on her bed, the empty bottle falling from her hand and clattering to the floor, rolling under the bedframe.
Hermione woke, feeling slightly off balance from the vodka, she grimaced, knowing it was Saturday. She knew she wouldn’t have a hangover since her drinking herself to sleep was a regular occurrence.
“Guess I should go ahead and clean up.” She muttered to her empty home.
She pulled a royal purple silk robe that fell mid-thigh over her body and cinched it at her waist. She collected her wand from under her pillow and waved it around the room. The dirty clothes flew off in the direction of the washer, the trash found its way to the bin. The empty bottles and cans marched towards her kitchen to be collected in the recycles bin. She turned and flicked her wand to make her bed, fluffing her pillows.
She circled through the apartment and once it had been cleaned, she flopped onto her couch. She started to cry. Her life was meaningless. Nothing ever went right. She had an empty flat, no sex life, and no friends. What had happened to her?
Ron. That’s what. His temper, his endless nagging. He’d made sure she was a social pariah after their less than friendly breakup. Harry had taken his side, being his brother-in-law. Hermione had to stand by while Ron turned the Weasley family against her.
Molly and Arthur had been her second parents growing up, and she had thought that being adults they’d see it her way. They hadn’t. Ron had made it known she was no longer welcome at the Burrow.
Ron had wanted to have sex with her, she’d told him no. Sure kissing, and oral pleasure had been great, but he wanted more. She had not. He got angry and broke up with her. They’d only dated for about a year.
He had been angry she’d not wanted to move in with him at the burrow, didn’t understand why she always kept her shirt on. He hated her hair and put her down all the time with sarcastic gibes. She could only take so much. She’d built a wall around herself and kept everyone out for two years.
Tears fell again. She hated herself. Bellatrix had done more than Ron would ever know. She had tortured her, The Cruciatus curse had been flung on her more than once. On top of that her blade had plunged unto her skin with glee carving the inkless tattoo on her arm.
She’d then been molested by the deranged woman. Her hands had plundered Hermione’s body while the Malfoy family had watched, her screams and cries being unheard. While Hermione was positive she still had a hymen, just the fact that someone had violated her, and a woman at that, had created some horrible nightmares.
She hated herself. Her self-loathing was at its all-time high in her life, and she took herself to her room. Dressed in her skimpiest outfit, a green long sleeved silk shirt that’s front hung down below her breasts so that the twins peaked out its sides, and a black mini skirt.
Waving her wand to fix her hair, and put makeup on she then pulled on her ballet flats. She really needed to invest in some pumps or heels she thought as she walked out of the now clean flat. As an afterthought she charmed the shirt to stay put, so her girls wouldn’t pop out.
Hermione sat on a barstool at the Hogs Head bar, she’d become a regular at the Three Broomsticks, and the Leaky Cauldron and didn’t want to see a familiar face, so she chose to come here where she wasn’t likely to meet someone she knew.
She threw back a shot of firewhiskey and asked for another as well as a mug of Dragon’s Brew. Once placed in front of her she threw back the shot, closing her eyes to relish the liquor warming her insides. Opening them she met gray eyes staring into her dark brown ones.
“Granger.” His voice held no tone of menace. She glanced at him without really seeing him. He had just arrived and sat at the stool beside her. ‘Darn, so much for not seeing familiar faces!’
“Malfoy.” She acknowledged. He seemed a bit off seeing her there, or maybe that was her own feelings being conveyed in her mind.
She ignored him, continuing to drink her alcohol. She’s managed about four Dragon’s Brew, and 8 or 10 or who the hell counted them anymore shots of firewhiskey before dropping her galleons and stepping down from the barstool. Swaying a touch, she smiled. She’d sleep great tonight. No nightmares.
A hand grabbed her arm. She looked at the intruder of her revelry. Malfoy! She scowled, giving him a look that rivaled the scowls he used to give her at Hogwarts.
“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” She asked angrily her words barely slurring. He looked at her, expression guarded, his hand had moved to a supportive position, and she hated to admit how much she was trying not to lean on him.
“Helping you to stand Granger. Where the devil do you think you’re going in this state?” He asked, no anger in his voice, just curiousness, and a bit of-humor.
“You finding something funny Malfoy?” She spat at him, her voice belying the seething anger, the annoyance of being detained. He said nothing. “Fine! I was going home.”
“How were you getting there?” He asked, and she looked uncertain. What did he mean? She was going to get there by Apparating, like always and told him that. He looked incredulous.
“You could be splinched. Come on, I’ll take you.” He sighed. He placed a few coins on the bar and assisted her out,
“Why would you care if I got splinched, ‘snot like anyone would miss me really.” She huffed, her alcohol induced haze still fogging her mind.
“I’m sure the wizarding world would hate to see their golden girl in two pieces all because she’d messed up something she’d perfected as soon as she was of age. It’d be something that was beneath her.” Draco’s reply was dripping with sarcasm as he released her arm.
Hermione seemed not to hear him, she was humming and dancing a little in the street as the effects of the alcohol ran through her veins. She stopped off to the side of one of the houses in Hogsmead, leaning against the bricks she looked up. Her mouth opened slightly as she looked into the inky starlit vastness of space.
The streetlamps were out of range from where she stood in the darkness of the village and she sighed. One of longing, regret, and sadness. She didn’t notice that Draco was staring at her. Looking at her mouth then looking up to the sky as well. Her sigh brought his attention back to her.
“Want to talk about it?” He asked, and the look of surprise on both of their faces matched when her head shot down and their gazes met.
“You want to hear what a Mudblood has to say?” She laughed bitterly. Her heart pounded, her breathing erratic, and the tears from earlier were just on the surface.
“I want to hear what you want to say” Draco said, making it a point to emphasize the word you. He saw she was on the verge of breaking down. He had noticed as soon as he entered the Hogs Head tonight and saw her. He wasn’t in the Magical Law office for nothing. He’d come in for his nightly dose of alcohol and came face to face with the reason for it.
Visions of her swam through his head. He’d seen her in almost all of his cases, her eyes tormenting him. The pain, humiliated, tortured and abused. He had become the Leading case manager within the Magical Law Mind Healing division helping victims deal with their pain and trauma because of her.
She laughed at him. Bitterly and contemptuously. His brow furrowed, confused. He’d not dealt with that before. But then, neither had any of the cases he had ever had been quite like the one in front of him. Where he knew intimately what had happened to her over 3 years ago. Had seen it and done nothing.
“So the great Pureblood Draco Malfoy has lowered his standards to allow a common Mudblood to speak to him. Oh the daring!” She retorted, glaring at him, but in a detached uninterested sort of way. Like she’d long divested herself of such strong emotions. Perhaps she had.
“Granger, I am not the child of my youth, and have done away with the influences of said youth. I live in a neighborhood that houses both us magical and muggles. I have a degree from a Muggle Uni in social work, and work in the ministry now.” He calmly replied. She listened, allowing her eyes to glance his direction as her face stayed forward.
“A muggle uni?” She laughed suddenly. “Why on earth would you go to a muggle school?” And she was back to humming and skipping down the road. He sighed. She was an enigma. She was certainly broken. He was scared for her. He didn’t know what all was going to happen when her emotions came crashing down.
“Granger, could I assist you home, please.” He asked.
She nodded, still humming and skipping, she stepped up on a rock wall that came to Draco’s knees and he noticed as she danced upon it making her way down its length to the other end that she had unshed tears in her eyes.
She was desperately trying not to break down in the middle of Hogsmead. He met her at the end and held a hand. She stared at it a second before taking it shakily.
Their hands touched and they felt like a shock between them, like static electricity. She shook it off and stepped down from the wall.
“Do you know the park down the street from the ministry, Apparate us there, we can walk the distance to my flat.” She murmured to him. He nodded. Took her in as close to his body as he could, he’d only side apparated another person once before.
Her smell of vanilla and some sort of spice filled his nostrils as he thought about the park. With a crack they made it there still standing. She leaned into him swaying slightly.
His felt his heart beating in his throat. She let go of him and pulled away, staggering slightly at the loss of his steadiness. He let her go, following her as she began her skipping and humming again. He realized it was nerves. She was nervous in his presence. He wondered why.
They came to her flat, he’d never been here before. Never had a reason to venture to this neighborhood. He supposed it wasn’t a bad neighborhood, just not as upscale as the gated community that he resided in.
Draco sighed as she plopped herself down onto her steps instead of just going in. He regarded her arms that were across her chest as she leaned over her legs on the steps. He took his jacket off and placed it over her shoulders. He was wearing a white button up shirt and black slacks, the black jacket was now resting on her shoulders. It took her a minute to register that it was even there.
“Aren’t you even cold?” He asked. She had a glazed look in her eye and didn’t respond. He sighed again. “Granger, give me your keys and release the wards.”
She nodded and handed him her a bag he’d not noticed that had been hanging on her wrist. He opened it to find a shrunken book, a few muggle shot bottles of vodka, and her keys. Glancing at the bottles he realized she had a problem.
He drew them out and stepped over her to open her door. He knew she could perform wandless magic, just as he could, and with a wave of her hand he felt her magic releasing the wards from her home. He pushed it open, and then assisted her to stand and took her inside of her flat. He immediately felt the wards go back up once the door was closed and locked.
‘Shit. How the fuck am I getting out of here now?’ He thought until he spied the fireplace and a small box decorated with a fairy and a dragon nestled on the mantle. He opened it and saw the floo powder. ‘Good, I can get out that way.’
He saw she’d started making her way towards a room in the back, kicking her shoes off, then she started pulling her skirt from her legs. He gasped.
“GRANGER!” He scowled. She looked behind her and realized what she was doing.
“Well shit. I forgot you were here.” She stated and color rushed to her face as she made to grab the skirt that was a foot away from her. He saw the panties she wore matched the shirt, green. His mouth went dry and he felt the movement of another interested party, a little lower on his body, at the sight of her lean legs and scantily clad thighs.
“What are you doing?” He asked walking to her and helping her to stand steadily while she returned her skirt to her body.
“I was undressing, the way I always do when I come home.” She stated with no emotion. Her eyes were void of emotion. He didn’t like the way she was so detached.
“Granger, let’s talk.” He snarled angrily, hoping to elicit some response from her. Even her bitter laughter was better than the blankness he was seeing. Something akin to the fire he remembered from Hogwarts started in her eyes.
‘Malfoy was angry, and wanted to talk. Hah! What gives him the right to be angry? I should be angry!’ Hermione thought and she pushed through her potion and alcohol induced haze. She pulled from him unsteadily, anger bright in her eyes.
“How dare you! How dare you fucking get mad at me?” She spat. “You!” She started shaking as her anger magnified. “Talk, talk about what Malfoy? Talk about how you just watched like the pathetic evil cockroach I called you back in third year?
“How you watched her carve into me? How you watched her defile me? Let’s talk! How you called me Mudblood, told your father all about me so I was on their radar for the raids? How I had to obliviate myself from my family’s minds? How Ron never understood the damage she did? How I…I can’t….I…can’t….”
Her words ended in sobs as she collapsed down the wall her back against it riding it down to sitting position. She bent her knees to her chest and sobbed in her arms as they rested on them. Draco sat down beside her and pulled her to him. He’d known she’d blame him. How could she not. It was partially true. He’d been as unwilling a victim as she in the War. He knew that now.
“Shhh….Shhh……She’s dead. Bella is dead. Long driven from the world now.” He said. She’s stiffened at the witch’s name. He rubbed her back under the jacket he’d placed on her earlier.
“I hate you sometimes, you know.” She sniffed, not looking at him. He frowned and furrowed his brow.
“Yeah. I hate myself sometimes too.” He said honestly.
“She broke me. I couldn’t admit it before, during the war I had to hold it together for Harry, so we could finish what we started and destroy the last of the horcruxes. You saw us destroy the one in the room of requirements. I wanted you to die in the fire….I….I was very glad that you didn’t…but that thought haunted me. Did I truly….want you dead?”
She stopped for a second as another bought of sobbing broke her resolve. Why was she telling Draco this? What would it accomplish except gain her his contempt?
“I’m sorry…” He said. She looked up at him, her tears in her eyes, her heart pounding in her chest loudly for the first time in years.
“I obliviated my parent’s, they don’t know me. I basically took away their lives. I sent them away so they wouldn’t be killed, and now I can’t return them their memories.” She cried softly, remorse in her voice. “And when I tried to date Ron, well that was such a bloody mess. Everyone took his side, I have no one now.”
She laughed then, bitterly once more.
“Why was it a mess?” He asked, his voice careful and emotionless. She stared at her knee, a small scar on it from her scraping it many times as a kid.
“He wanted more than I could give him. He wanted to heal me, but couldn’t. I was never good enough for him, always nagging, or crying, or prudish. He wanted more and I failed him.” She said dejectedly. Her morose feeling settling once again over her heart. Draco’s mouth formed a thin line as he set his lips grimly.
“Why weren’t you able to let him heal you?” Draco asked, she laughed for a second. ‘Really? Of all the things he came out with?’
“Not heal me because of something wrong, but heal my pain, my broken-ness. He could never fully understand how the feel of his hands on my body caused panic attacks, how when he would try to….touch……intimately I would seize up and remove his hands, or cower. He constantly asked if it was him. He constantly berated me for not letting him show me it could be good.” She laughed bitterly again.
Draco was mortified at the turn of the conversation, he hated the Weasel but needed to hear it to be able to help her. She was his White Whale. His obsession, the reason he’d become a Mind Healer for victims. This was why he was here. He wanted to help her.
“Draco?” Her slurred speech once again came back. He realized she was still quite intoxicated. And she’d said his name. His first name.
“Yes.” He whispered, realizing that his hand was still against her back, rubbing small soothing circles.
“Will you stay and just hold me. It’s been so long since I’ve had anyone to hold me, my mum and dad…my friends, all are gone. I have nothing. I am nothing.” She had said that last part so quietly he’d barely heard her. His heart gave a wrench. She was the bloody Gryffindor Princess. She was the brains of the Golden Trio, and the Brightest Witch of Our Age. How could she possibly believe that she was nothing?
“If you wish it. But let’s get off the floor first.” He stated and helped her off the floor and took her over to her couch. It was a comfortable fluffy couch with sturdy arms and back. He sat, and pulled her down with him. He wasn’t in a relationship. His last one filtered out about six months ago, the heiress Astoria Greengrass had only wanted his money and status. She’d not wanted him though.
He was beyond the aristocratic nature of his family, they didn’t give two knuts for his thoughts, so why the bloody hell would he care what they wanted for his future, that was his. His parents had his past. He decided his future and no one was ever taking that away from him again.
“She ruined me Malfoy, ruined me. She carved her hate into my skin, then took pleasure in my pain as she violated me. I don’t know if she had time to take what was mine to give, but the woman violated me. I never knew women could do that to someone.” She was murmuring, her eyes staring at the fire in her fireplace, seeing unseen horrors.
No, not unseen, he thought, he remembered and had been under the body-binding curse. Petrificus Totalus. His father had seen to that when he’d been unwilling to identify any of them. He’d been forced to watch. He watched his aunt torture the girl he knew from school. Then take the bloody blade, he’d inherited from her upon her death, to her skin.
He’d seen his aunt push her hands down Hermione’s pants while Hermione screamed and pleaded for it to end. His Aunt had crucio’d her while fingering the witch. He was scared, he saw Hermione pass out from the humiliation and pain. He had watched as her eyes opened unseeing for a few seconds before she’d surrendered to the pain and darkness, her tears ran down her face and she stared at him pleading. Could she see his eyes, his pain, and his own soul?
“I was under Petrificus Totalus. I couldn’t…save you.” Draco’s voice finally broke. The pain and tears came from the hidden part of himself. He pulled her closer, held her, breathed in her vanilla and spice scent. They stared for a long time crying silently, their own demons haunting them. Eventually sleep overcame them both.
XXXXXXXXXX
Hermione’s body was nestled between her couch and another warm body. She also felt a heavy jacket over her and a hand resting over her waist, limply lying on her bare stomach. She snuggled into the body for a second before meeting a very hard, very large, very male organ against the back of her thighs. She started to hyperventilate into a panic attack. Her hands flying up to clutch at her chest as she tried to tear herself from the body.
“Granger, calm down! Hermione! Breathe, breathe!!!” Malfoy’s panicked voice attempted to penetrate her own panicked mind. She wasn’t able to, oh god she was going to die in his arms! She thought, her chest heaving with short quick gasps trying to get air through her panic.
He had picked her up and laid her gently on the floor with him behind her so she’d have air, while he mimicked breathing in and out, pressing on her stomach with one hand and chest with the other, having them work simultaneously. She slowly realized the breaths in her ear were his way of getting her to hear him, and him breathing with her.
She gulped the air, feeling the pain of the air being forced through her lungs once more. She realized that his hands had opened her shirt and one of his hands were resting against her chest above the swell of her unclad breast and the other at her stomach, just below the tender underside of those same naked breasts. She felt electric current racing through her body, jolting to her core. His own breathing was speeding up and she felt a twitch against her back and wondered at the strange appendage.
Her breathing picked up again as she started to panic but she tried to rein in her panic, hoping she could manage. After a few seconds she calmed enough to pull herself from his embrace. Draco wasn’t sure what was going on in her head, but he made sure to stay calm, and quiet, less he drive her into a panic attack again. He knew she’d felt his erection, how could she not have, but then the feel of her skin under his hands, her smell while she slept, he couldn’t help being enticed. Not that he’d act on it. He scowled momentarily before schooling his features blank again.
“Sorry.” She murmured quietly her cheeks aflame with humiliation and her eyes downcast, avoiding his, before she stood and she made her way to her kitchen. She used her wand to make her tea and added a liberal amount of muggle cream based alcohol to it. She sipped it generously, loving the fire the alcohol made in her the otherwise cold pit of her stomach.
Draco just watched and sighed inwardly. She was going to be difficult, and he was already being unprofessional by having these feelings towards her. Oh Merlin, he, Draco Malfoy has feelings for Hermione Granger. What is the world coming to? He silently mused.
“Granger, I think I’d like to have some sit-downs with you.” Draco started trying to figure out how to phrase this without her getting angry. She tensed and glanced over her shoulder at him, still sitting on her floor. She wanted to laugh at the sight he made, his clothing rumpled from work and a lie in on a couch, then a romp on the floor. She did manage a small smile as she turned to actually face him. He scowled and she remembered what he’d just said.
“What do you mean a sit-down Malfoy?” She snapped.
“I work in the Law Division that offers Mind Healing for those who were traumatized during the war, or in domestic cases. I’m a social worker in the Muggle World, and a Mind Healer in the Wizarding World. And I think you would benefit from sessions with me.” He said cautiously. She giggled again.
“You, Draco Malfoy, want to have sessions where I talk about what you did to me during school, what your father and his friends did to me in the Department of Mysteries, and what your Aunt and her crazy friends did to me during the War?” She started laughing hard, giggles, guffaws, and shrill trills of laughter that made her sound quite mad. He watched her, his eyes narrowed and his face becoming a blank mask.
“I realize we have history Granger, but I think we need to get it out of the way so you can move on with your life and get out of….whatever it is you’re in.” He said without expression in his voice, holding tightly to his emotions while gesturing his hand around the room.
What he was trying not to do was to stare openmouthed at her crazy laughs, her wild hair, and her almost dead eyes. They did make quite an impression on him. Her laughter died as she caught her breath.
“Alright Malfoy, I’ll bite, but only under my terms. I don’t want to go to some Ministry office, or have a folder in the law enforcement on me. You can come here, or we can go to a discrete location of your choosing. I will not have the fact that I’m having therapy sessions besmirching my name and giving credit to Ron’s accusations that I’m mental.” She winced as she said that last part.
Sure he’d said it throughout their childhood but he threw it in her face throughout the year of their ‘relationship’ constantly.
“Merlin Hermione, you need to get over it already, yeah! No need to act bloody mental every time I try to touch you.” Memory Ron spat at her when she’d tensed and pushed him off her after a heated snogging once.
“Bloody hell Hermione! A bit mental aren’t you?” When she broke down and started screaming when he’d pushed his hands into her pants to turn her on.
“Don’t mind her Harry, she’s mental.” After she freaked out when he bought her a wizards vibrator to ‘get the stick from her arse because she needed to get laid’.
Her hands went to her ears as tears streamed down her face. Her soft sobbing and quiet whispers and rocking back and forth standing in front of her sink made Draco get up and walk over to her.
“…not mental…..I’m not mental……I’m not crazy……..I’m not mental……” She was whispering, her mind far away from the here and now. Draco’s thirteen year old prat self wanted to laugh at her and say indeed, she was crazy, just look at her. But his adult self knew she was breaking, knew she was facing a demon and trying to dispute whatever claim it had on her.
“Granger, you aren’t crazy, you are just damaged. With these sessions maybe we can help you get through those damaging events and move forward.” Draco told her quietly. Her gaze slid back into focus and she looked at him. Really looked at him for the first time all night. He thought he could see some of the old Granger in there as she nodded.
“I’ll do it. What days are good for you? I don’t have much of a social life, besides hitting up the pubs and working.” She said, not ashamed of her going out and drinking. She was an adult and could get sloshed all she wanted, and she went to work, rarely took a vacation, and stayed for overtime most days.
“Wednesday mornings I’m free, or Friday evenings.” Draco said, knowing he’d hate to give up his Wednesdays, he rather enjoyed sleeping in.
“Friday evenings would be best, I work during the day. What costs would I be incurring per session?” She asked.
“A weekly rate can be worked out between the two of us later. I’d rather like to help you without getting paid to do so.” Draco admitted honestly. This was after all his “white whale” his reason he became a mind healer and social worker, she didn’t need to know that though.
Her eyebrows quirked. A look of incredulousness filling her features.
“You want to counsel me for free? OK, this is a joke. What have you done with the real Draco Malfoy?” She eyed him suspiciously. He glanced at her, then chuckled; a very unMalfoylike sound. She pointed her wand at him, making him stop abruptly. He eyed her wand seriously.
“What did I say to you the first time you stepped out on the Quiddich pitch in our 2^nd year, with the new brooms?” She said firmly. Draco’s eyes widened. She was serious. Was she that distrustful that he’d changed since graduating from Hogwarts? He raked his brain for the event in question….fuck, what had she said? Oh yeah, the bitterness stung and a lump formed in his throat as he remembered.
“That my father bought my way onto the team.” He scowled at her disdainfully as he forced this bitter memory out of his mouth. He’d spent the whole year attempting to try to make sure he earned his spot, besting all the other teams except theirs of course. Potter really was a formidable player. All because she had made him feel inferior.
Her demeanor relaxed again and her wand lowered. He signed relieved.
“Geez Granger, not too trusting are you?” He smirked.
“Nowadays Malfoy, it’s hard to trust anyone. Especially someone who doesn’t act at all like they used to.” She said wearily. Her spiked tea finished, she washed the mug and placed it in the dish rack. She got out two tumblers and filled them with ice and some muggle whiskey. Handing one to Draco, she watched as he sniffed it and sipped.
“Merlin! What is this?” He exclaimed as the harsh liquid set fire to his throat like firewhiskey hadn’t done in years.
“It’s a rather nice muggle whiskey, strong and nice. It helps me to sleep.”
“Good then, try to rest. I’ll be heading out now. See you Friday at 6pm Granger. Oh and your first assignment, do one thing to make yourself smile this week.” And he left through the green flames of her floo while she stared blankly at him.
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Please Read and Review. Also, looking for a Beta on a few WIPs. Thanks! ~E.E.P.
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