Draco's Camera | By : bettysilks Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 37709 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 9 |
Disclaimer: I don't own HP nor am I profiting from it in any way. |
She found the Dragon-Droga in a bag in his locker. Two little phials of the mercurial green and yellow liquid. It was like magical meth and it explained his constantly volatile behavior. He was a fucking addict. Pureblood prince, hoity-toityiest of them all was an addict like the common scum scraped off the cobbles in Knockturn Alley everyday. And she had been so wrapped up in herself that she hadn't noticed it before.
That was dumb of her. Dragon-Droga was potent. The most obvious side-effect was visual. It produced the type of green and yellow rings around pupils that she had just seen on his. There were other, less noticeable effects though. It made the user super-sensitive- able to see things and hear things they normally wouldn't. It gave a man senses like the creature the drug itself was derived from. The dragon. But that was about the only halfway decent thing about the drug. It heightened aggressiveness and anger thresholds. Connected the imbiber with the deepest, darkest, most animalistic desires of his or her heart. Made a person more likely to forget their morals and boundaries.
Hermione pursed her lips as she looked down on Malfoy. He was coming out of it a bit, starting to sweat the drug out and getting some color back into his face. For the life of her, she couldn't fathom why he'd begin taking something like Dragon-Droga. Didn't he know it plain old fucked a person up?
So, his parents were dead. He was fucking the person who'd killed them. Get a fucking hobby. He wasn't supposed to wreak havoc on his body with dangerous substances.
Biting her lip, she crouched next to him and touched a few fingers to his forehead. He felt lukewarm, decent. Her fingers moved down to his clammy cheeks. They were slightly sunken, drawn over a very masculine jaw. He was so beautiful. It was hard to believe he was real until he opened that foul mouth of his or until his hands pressed into her flesh.
"Malfoy." she called, testing him.
He was unresponsive and she was suddenly very frustrated with her druggie.
Stupid beautiful rich boy.
She jabbed her wand into his jugular visciously and muttered two spells in rapid succession.
"Sobrius. Aguamenti."
He sat up quickly, gasping and spitting so he wouldn't drown himself on the floor there. Hermione raised her brow, eying him carefully. If he so much as tried to retaliate...
He looked at her like he was sick. In all fairness, he probably was. The Sobrius spell wasn't pretty. Almost instantaneously, it rehydrated alcoholics. Put all the water the toxins took out back where it needed to be. It was a cheap shortcut to combat hangovers. The only real way to avoid those was to not even imbibe the substances in the first place. And why should the quick remedy be designed to allow inebriation to go without consequence? The wizarding world would be overrun by addicts like him.
"How do you feel? That spell is really only for alcoholics but I figured the basics were close enough."
Not that she really cared how he felt. Draco was probably a little nauseous and he probably had to piss like a racehorse. Served him right. Her purpose in asking the question and then explaining had just been to let him know that she knew he was on something. Whether he acknowledged the hint and took her opening to be truthful was up to him.
He blinked at her and scowled suddenly, like he'd just remembered to do it. His hands came up to pat at his chest through the Slytherin seeker's jersey he was wearing. It was all bright green and gaudy with the name D. Malfoy etched in blocky white letters on the front. He looked ridiculous in it, scowling and sopping wet as he was. He looked... like he had before... when he was just a puffed up boy.
"Where's my wand?" he snarled, breaking the moment before she did something foolish like reach out and brush all that bright white, wet hair off of his forehead.
Hermione's upper lip curled and she nearly snarled as she yanked her hand out of midair and went to hand him his wand from the front pocket of her sweater. He sneered as he dried himself. That look alone told her he wasn't truly upset about the way she'd found him and what she'd done with him. He was confused though and relying on the old, the familiar. Hermione didn't dare blame him. She did it all the time. In fact, she was sure she'd end up doing it in the next couple of minutes if he deigned to speak to her. Instead, he got to his feet and walked away from her.
"Damn it, Granger. This is a mens room. Unless you've got something I happened to have missed between your legs you should probably leave." he said, coming from the bathroom with a towel around his waist and one around his shoulders.
Hermione stared unabashedly as he finished toweling off. He was all hard lines and smooth planes. Sensuous. Very manly. Very nearly perfect. Her stomach was turning over inside of itself and her heart was clenching madly. However, Malfoy was not the type of person to become attached to or infatuated with. He was too unpredictable. Hermione Granger was sensible enough to ignore the fluttering inside of her and she prided herself on that. It was just that she'd never really looked at him without thinking of the loss she'd caused him. It would do no harm to look with the rose colored glasses before her traitorous eyes.
"If you're done, Hermione." he murmured, sounding shy as he turned around.
Yet he was still as bare as the day he'd been born. She smirked a little and nodded for him to continue with his briefs.
"You told me to come to you, Draco. Remember?"
"Yeah. And?"
And he stopped getting dressed. Folded his arms over his chest and glared down at her. She'd seen that look before. It meant that she was not pleasing him, which altogether was not an easy task. What he wanted was... strange to her. As much as she hated to call it that, it was strange that what he wanted- or thought he wanted- was to continue with her but to change the dynamics of their arrangement. It was so absurd. She shook all of the thoughts that didn't have to do with the present out of her mind.
"Malfoy... did you... do it for me? I mean, did you do it because I asked you to?"
"Was that not obvious. I made that clear when I responded to that novel you sent me."
Now she was sure and she was just talking more to give herself time to think. He'd hurt her because she asked, not even because he wanted to.
"You could have said no!" she accused.
He sighed, shaking his head as he came to sit next to her. He smelled like oatmeal and evergreen soap with a spice that was all his own. She didn't move away.
"Why would I say no? That was what you needed. I want to help you decompress-"
"But, why? You don't owe me. It's the other way around."
"It's not about anyone owing anyone anything. I will do anything I can for you because I want to, Hermione."
He had been talking to the lockers, not meeting her eyes. After he said that last line he turned his chin to glance at her reaction. She started to cry. She hated herself and therefore hated him for saying the things he just had, for feeling the way he did. She was not worthy. She was better than him in some ways but in the way that counted, when it came to conscience and innonce he needed to stay on the notch above her. He couldn't come down. She couldn't hurt him.
"What do you want from me?"
He chuckled.
"Not a relationship. You're not equipped."
It hurt. Rejection always did, but it was right. She was glad he thought that way. So glad that she missed the grimace on his face as he lied through his teeth to her. She went back to her tears. It felt so good to let it out. He threw an arm around her shoulders and she leaned into his side. Warm and comfortable. He let her tears run down his chest and the side of his stomach.
Hermione only allowed herself a few minutes to be weak. She had to get it together, figure out a way to help him and then she'd think about maybe, possibly helping herself. It all depended on him. Foolishly and stupidly, her decision to either help herself out of the rut she was in or to wallow in guilt was up to him.
"What about the Dragon-Droga?"
"Hmm?" he asked, playing dumb.
She almost grinned as she sat up and wiped the spent tears off of her rosy cheeks. He could be funny when he wanted to be.
"You heard me. What were you doing with that stuff?"
She realized her mistake after he shot up and yanked his bag out of his locker. She watched as he went straight for the little pocket where she'd found the vials. They weren't there. They had been poured down the toilet a long time ago.
"Where is it, Granger? You had no right."
"You don't need that." she told him, furrowing her brows because she was confused even as she assured him.
She had no experience with addicts. Only enough to recognize his behavior for what it was. He was about to get hostile, if he wasn't already. She had no idea how to cope with that. Did she need to tie him down and let him detox like the muggles did? Or, was there something different wizards did? Acutely, she felt the pinch of not knowing. She hated it. Why didn't she know what to do to help him?
"Where is it, Granger?" he asked again, taking a step closer to her while his eyes roved the room around them.
Awkwardly, Hermione backed herself over the bench she was sitting on. She took a few slow steps for the door, confident until Draco lunged. He caught the bottom of her sweater and she shrugged it off, making sure to slip her wand out of it and cast a quick charm to unlock the door. His fingers ghosted over her arm when she skidded around the door itself. Knowing he'd barrel out of it, she cast a stunning spell over her shoulder and walked away from him calmly.
She hadn't dispatched twelve Death Eaters with sugar, spice and everything nice. Fighting was fifty percent intelligence and the rest equal parts luck and instinct. She'd known Draco would be desperate enough to come barreling out of the door without his wand or his guard up. She knew what had needed to be done when he did and all that was left was the little bit of luck that allowed her spell to hit him before he could get the drop on her. He'd been disabled and she would get away because if there was anything Hermione Granger always knew, without a doubt, it was how to get out of a sticky situation.
She needed to regroup. She needed to do some research, make a plan of action and get back to him when she was better equipped to handle him. She went straight to the library and enlisted Madam Pince's help to find books about Magical Addiction and Recovery, even a few self-help books just to round it all out. She needed to be thorough. This was Draco she was dealing with. He was stubborn. Besides, she owed him. She needed to do everything she could do to help him. She wasn't going to just throw him to the dogs, debilitating addiction and all.
So, Hermione busied herself with the books. She did not think about how it had felt when Draco had declared that he'd do anything for her because he wanted that. Just because he wanted to. Not out of any obligation. Not beacuse they had been friends for so long. Not because he had brought her into the world. Just because he was a man who wanted to help her. That had felt nice before she had realized that it was the wrong thing to want or to even tolerate from him. He was too volatile, too obsessive. If she had known he wasn't being selfish when he agreed to her terms- had done it out of a desire to help her- she wouldn't have accepted. Malfoy's didn't help for no reason. They demanded things in return. The last remaining Malfoy wasn't an exception and he expected her complete fealty now that he'd helped her. That was why he'd tried to engage her outside of their deal. He had expected her to acquiesce.
Well, she wouldn't. She couldn't. He was much too far off her radar. She couldn't understand him and that, not surprisingly, bothered her. And, there were certain things that were set in stone. Like, her and Ron. That was set in stone. Couldn't be changed. Not by her. Not by him. She owed a lot of people a lot of things. He wasn't the only one and he had to accept that. By God, he had better accept that.
Hermione nearly jammed her quill through the parchment when she heard her name being called, followed by a harsh whisper from Pince. Smoothing a finger over the tiny bump she'd left on the paper, she turned to look over her shoulder.
Harry and Ron.
She grinned and waved them over. They were blissfully alone and smiling like they hadn't a care in the world.
"Hello, boys."
"Hermione, Malfoy's lost his bloody marbles." Ron exclaimed, pulling a chair out so that he could sit backwards in it and face her.
A cold sliver of fear opened in her chest and she glanced across the table at Harry. He would decidedly not be smiling if Malfoy had told them what went on between himself and their best friend. She relaxed a tad bit and forced a smile.
"He's gone bloody bonkers."
"Ron, he's been through a lot. What'd he do?"
Ron rolled his eyes and fell silent. Harry, who wasn't plagued by the same frustration took up the story with a subdued little smile.
"Traipsing around the pitch in his knickers. Nearly starkers and walking in circles. He just kept growling like a madman. When Ginny asked him if he was alright he went and attacked a broom stand. Bloody bonkers, he is."
Harry laughed when he finished speaking. Ron spoke up again, apparently over his bout of self-consciousness.
Grinning, he finished with, "Hooch caught him by the ear. He's got three weeks of detentions. She's taking him to the hospital wing now. Though, if you ask me, he needs the special wing at St. Mungo's rather than Pomfrey. She's just fine when you've got a scrape on your knee but Malfoy needs a bloody Cranial Healer."
Hermione let out a little laugh against her will. She could see the humor in Ron's words. Malfoy needed a Cranial Healer alright, and she'd be sitting on the table right along with him. Then, the rest of it sunk in. Draco was in the hospital wing and because of his tantrum Pomfrey would assume whatever was wrong with him was something chemical. She'd run diagnostics and find the Dragon-Droga residue in his blood.
"Hermione, what is this? Why're you reading about addiction? And... is this a self-help book?"
Hermione cringed. There was too much going on at once. She had to save Draco's arse from- she didn't know what. In the muggle world he'd be kicked out of school and put into mandatory rehab. She had an inkling the wizarding word was behind its non-magical counterpart in the area of vices and rehabilitation from them. Wizards wouldn't want to confront things like that publicly or even at all. Or, maybe they'd find it completely intolerable and throw him straight into Azkaban.
And Harry was speaking again.
"Hermione, there isn't anything you want to tell us, is there? I mean, we've been trying to give you your space lately. It seemed like that was what you needed. Do you want us to do the opposite?... Or, or somewhere in the middle?" he babbled, squinting at her through his glasses.
God, no. That much she knew. She didn't want anyone hovering, no matter how well-meaning they were.
"No, Harry everything is fine. You guys are great. I've liked having extra time to-"
"To sit in the library by yourself?" Ron interjected, looking sheepish as soon as he'd said it.
Of course he hadn't meant to emphasize her utter lonliness even while they were sitting there with her. Hermione took it in stride though. She smiled and patted Ron's knee, making him blush.
"Alright, Ron. I know I spend a lot of time alone. I just... it's something I need. It's the war- I can't stop thinking about it- and this new thing that's come up. With Amerie Bones being removed from her post at Gringotts and the Griffins losing business at Fortescue's I just can't help but worry people will start to hate me. Look at all of the good things those people did in the war and look how they're being repaid."
"Oh, Hermione, no one could ever-"
"But, Harry, you don't know that. Ron's got all his family and his dad works at the ministry. You, you're beyond reproach. Me, I..."
She shrugged, but Harry seemed to know what she was about. He frowned over at Ron, a look passing between them as if they'd heard all this before.
Ginny.
Hermione started to get annoyed.
"No one cares that you're muggleborn, Hermione. Not anymore. That doesn't matter."
"Of course it does, Harry. No one is dumb enough to say it out loud though. I'm always going to be-"
"Hermione." Harry called, putting his hand up before she could finish. "This argument is getting a little tired. You don't have to martyr yourself..."
Martyr herself? God, that phrase stank of Ginny Weasley's self-righteousness.
"... just because you're muggleborn. You're not the only one that hasn't come up on magic. We all know the war was hard, me especially, but you did the right thing. You were on the good side. It's as simple as that."
Every side thought theirs was the "good side". But she didn't say that out loud. Harry didn't want to hear her argument and for the first time in months she wondered if she bored them with her constant self-reproach. She looked to Ron to see if that was true and he was wearing one of those grimaces that said he was torn. So, Harry was right. Ginny was right. Her behavior was tiring them.
Her eyes watered.
"Alright, mate."
Ron reached into her lap and pulled her hands into his. Her lips turned down in a frown and her nostrils flared like they did before she sneezed. Before she cried. She didn't want to do that again today. Once was enough.
"I'm sorry, Hermione, I just-"
"Alright, mate. She's got the point, don't you, love?"
"I'm sorry, Harry. You too, Ron. I've been completely unmanageable. All I've wanted to do was sulk. I didn't realize how it affected all of you. I swear, I'll try to be better, alright?"
"There, that's all done then." Ron said, moving a hand to pat her back.
Hermione barely believed the words as she had said them, but they were the right thing to say. Her guilt was a private thing and the pains she took to punish herself for her actions in the war needed to be as well. She was no longer that angelic, self-involved Hermione that would have insisted her way was the right way. She wasn't that naive little girl who would have drawn her friends into her guilt. Grown up Hermione understood that they were all different. The fact that Ron and Harry had come to terms with their actions in the war was a good thing for them. She admired that for their sake, but she wasn't going to completely give up on her cause because they didn't believe in it. She didn't need that. She was independant and mature enough to fuel her self-abasement under her own steam.
"Now, I've got to go." she mumbled, sure everything had been smoothed over with the boys.
There was still Malfoy to deal with.
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