No reason to celebrate

Draco raised an eyebrow and stared at Severus with interest. “Go ahead. What kind of a solution do you have?”

“If you would kindly let me talk and stop interrupting, I could tell you!”

With a groan of irritation, Hermione elbowed the man beside her and shook her head. Sometimes, Snape would just forget himself and pretend he was still teaching and the opposite sitting persons were his students. He threw a menacing glare at the young woman but didn’t dare to protest.

Clearing his throat, the dark figure neatly crossed his legs and folded his arms before his chest. “I know of a potion that, if administered, will cause an immediate feeling of nausea and as well an instant emptying of the stomach. This potion would have to be taken or, if the patient is not supposed to know, be secretly given to the person to be treated. He or she, will still have to undergo a time of getting clean. But it is highly effective. There is one downside to it however. It does not heal the person to such an extent, that he or she will never be again endangered in becoming addicted. A lifelong abstinence will be the price.”

Draco swallowed and tried to ban immediately surfacing images of Harry lying on his bed in agony from his mind and focused back on Snape. “How long will it take to get him sober?”

“Oh, that depends on the length of time that he has been an addict.”

“I don’t know for long he has been drinking heavily.”

“Then you will just have to see and wait.”

“Great.” Draco scowled and closed his eyes for a second. Maybe it would be easier to just leave everything as it was and see to it, that Potter would move out soon. Yes, that sounded like a much better solution than the other . The mere imagination of having somebody constantly retching all over his house was not what he had in mind for his after work time.

“Draco?” Hermione’s soft but firm voice pulled him out of he reverie. “Do you need some help with it?”

“What? No, no. Thank you. I don’t think that…. Of course I can manage myself. I don’t need any help. Not when it comes to potions.” Draco tried to joke, hoping to cover up his helpless stammering.

“So, you want the recipe?” Snape cocked his head slightly.

Draco nodded solemnly. He would take the recipe with him and decide later, in his own house whether he was going to use it or not.

Severus Snape rose and moved swiftly into another part of the house. Draco and Hermione stayed in the living room sharing an awkward silence and both staring in different directions.

After some minutes Hermione slowly looked back at Draco Malfoy and studied him closely. It had been nearly ten years since she had seen the pale young man that was sitting before her and she wondered if he had changed like most of the others had. Like she and Severus had? She had seen the astonished, shocked and sometimes disgusted looks she and Severus were getting from people who knew them from school or other occasions. Many of them would never understand her and the relationship they were having. Thus she had learned the hard way what it meant to be an outcast sometimes. An outcast to former friends and acquaintances.

She could vaguely remember that she had heard form Dumbledore in times of despair and warfare, that Draco had indeed abandoned his father’s course and had given the Order valuable information of whereabouts and hideouts of the death eaters. After that he had supposedly fled the country and never returned to England. Until now that was. She noticed his face had grown softer and more handsome. It had lost its pointy look and the once hard eyes had turned to a darker shade of silvery grey. It puzzled her though, that Draco would undergo all the troubles to come to them to ask for help and actually help somebody else to overcome an addiction.

“So,” she started casually “this friend of yours, have you known him for long?”

“What?” Draco asked with a certain kind of dread in his voice.

“I wanted to know for how long you have known him and why you are going to help your ‘acquaintance’.” Hermione gave him a questioning look.

“Why?”

“I just wondered. You never seemed to care much about other people back when we were in school.”

“Oh, I suppose that’s why I gave the Order all the information about the Death Eaters then? Listen, I did care for others. Just not your lot.” Draco caught himself, trying to suppress the raising anger in his voice and continued in a calmer way, “Let’s just say I grew up. I have been living a normal life of a single man for nearly nine years now and I learned to value the friends and acquaintances I have got. And like I said; I don’t really want him in my house being drunk all the time. He is a nice guy really and it’s a pity.”

Hermione was about to ask yet another question, when Snape returned to the living room, holding a scroll of paper and a small vial with a colourless liquid in his hands.

“I did have some of the potion left, so I thought I’d give it to you. So you wont have to wait for the next days until yours is ready.” He said gruffly and held out the items in Draco’s direction.

“Days?” Draco was shocked. He had thought it would be an easy one, being brewed within maybe a few hours. He would somehow have to keep Harry out of the library if he was to actually go through with it and brew the damn stuff.

“Three days to be exact, Mr. Malfoy.” Snape sneered at the blond wizard.

“Alright, three days. Well, I better go then. Time to get the whole thing started.” Draco pushed himself up and nodded curtly at Hermione. “Severus.” He held out his hand to his former potion teacher.

“Draco,” Hermione suddenly interrupted “will we see you again? I mean, there would be so much to talk about. With the celebration coming up and all. I am curious to see whom you have already contacted. Would you like to come over to dinner some time? Or we could come to your place, if you prefer.”

Draco looked uncertain, but managed an uneasy “Maybe.” Before he moved towards the entrance door.

Outside when Severus had closed the door behind him, he threw a last glance at the house mumbled ‘Snips?’ and shook his head at what he had just witnessed and quickly apparated home.


As the well known surroundings became clear again, Draco quickly rushed upstairs to Harry’s room and found his visitor still lying in the same position in which he had left him. The breathing had steadied a bit and Harry obviously had not yet regained consciousness. Draco pondered the idea of levitating the limp form into the bath and letting the body sink into the tub so it would rid itself from the foul smell and still lingering vomit and urine. Then again, he didn’t know if it would be wise to do so before Harry was conscious again.

Quickly casting a mild cleaning charm at Harry, Draco got rid of most of the substances clinging to the clothes but it wouldn’t get rid of the smell. So he opened the window wide, pulled a chair over to window and read the scroll Snape had given him and waited for Harry to wake up. The potion itself was not too complicated, but it required regular stirring and the mentioned three days before it would be finished. Draco could only guess how long one portion would last, so he would have to wait and see. Suddenly he had to smile at himself. When still being at Hermione’s and Snape’s house, he had been reluctant to go through with it, but now as he sat here and from time to time watched Harry, he had never thought twice about it and had just accepted the fact that he was going to help Harry to overcome his addiction.

Maybe he should start right now. Harry would be thirsty when he woke up and it would be wise to have some, not too cool water at hand. The scroll strictly stated that the potion was odour and tasteless so there would be no way that Harry would know what he was drinking. Draco quickly made his way to the kitchen and filled a large jug with fresh water, carefully measuring three small spoons of potion into the water. He carefully sniffed it and couldn’t detect anything. Good.

Just as he entered the, by now slightly darkened, bedroom again, he saw Harry stir and try to roll onto his back again. Without thinking Draco was at his side in a flash and placed a firm hand on the Gryffindor’s shoulder.

“No. Shhh…, don’t roll onto your back just yet. You had a rough day. Are you thirsty?”

Harry tried to speak but only a raspy croaking sound came form his mouth and the foul smell coming with it, very nearly made Draco leave his side immediately. Only his well trained stoic being kept him from bolting and he smiled wryly down at his patient.

“Here, careful. Don’t drink to fast.” Draco steadied Harry’s head as he held the glass of water for him and watched with grim satisfaction as he drank in measured sips. ‘You so don’t know what you are going to experience soon enough!’ the Slytherin thought and encouraged Harry to drink some more. A strange surge of sadness washed over Draco as he watched the lax face of his former enemy and saw some of the water dribble out of the slack mouth.

How had Harry come to this. Sure, Draco could remember times in his life in which he had wished to bury his memories and experiences. There had been days where he wanted nothing more to be dead or at least brain damaged. He had wished for a certain kind of peace that could only temporarily be achieved by the effects of either alcohol or other kinds of drugs. In times like these it had been his strict upbringing that had kept him from slipping and falling into drug abuse. A Malfoy would never ever do something like that. It would have meant showing weakness and weakness was a word that his father had longed to erase from Draco’s vocabulary.

Form what Draco had heard about the Potter boy in school, his upbringing had been anything else but loving and caring. Strict it might have been but only in a brutal kind of way. True, Draco’s father had never shown his son real love or devotion, but all in all it hadn’t been too bad. And if Lucius hadn’t been such stupid and ignorant idiot when it had come to Voldemort, Draco would have tried to save his father instead of betraying him. Oh sure, Harry had always been the golden boy, the saviour of the wizarding world, but had he really been as self confident as he had always appeared to be. Obviously not. How else would he have turned to the easy solution and buried the problems he was having in alcohol?

Feeling an unknown surge of pity overwhelming him, Draco smiled encouragingly at Harry and helped him to sit up slowly. Once back in the vertical, Harry felt his head swim and a splitting headache that he had not yet noticed. He could make out Draco’s face, though it was slightly blurred and seemed to wobble from left to right. Suddenly a cool hand steadied his head and the wobbling motion stopped. ‘must have been me then.’ Harry thought and stared at Draco’s image with a blank expression.

“Do you think you can stand up?” Draco’s voice thundered in his ears.

Harry tried to nod his head but stopped instantly when the room started spinning and a powerful wave of nausea hit him. “Think…..so…” he managed to croak.

“Come, I’ll help you. You need to a bath or at least a shower.

It took another half an hour before Draco had Harry up and was helping him make his way into the bathroom. He pulled down Harry’s trousers and underpants and made him sit on the toilet while he drew the Gryffindor a bath with only a moderate temperature, not wanting the circulation to collapse. As soon as Harry heard the water running into the large bath tub his bladder reacted and he found himself blushing furiously with shame having Draco with him in the bathroom while he relieved himself.

Draco turned at the small moan Harry made and saw the brightly coloured cheeks as Harry sat like a small bundle of misery on the toilet and having a pee. Shaking his head at the absurdity of this situation Draco did what he always did when he knew no other way out, he used sarcasm.

“Hey, Potter. Don’t fret. I have seen your cock do far worse things than that. And I have also heard poorer sounds coming from you than the small tinkle you are producing right now. So, hurry up, your bath is ready. And don’t worry I won’t look. Well, at least not more than is reasonable.”

With shame Harry carefully heaved himself up and swayed over to the bath tub, his trousers still pooled around his ankles and before he could even try to bend down and get them off, Draco had taken it into his own hands, worried that Harry might topple over and hit the ground. Harry was still staring at Draco, who was kneeling before him, when his foggy brain remembered that it would be wise to take off the stinking shirt as well. When he was successfully unclothed, Draco got up on his feet again and helped Harry carefully into the tub, pushing a terry towelling cushion underneath his head.

“Now, you stay here and relax. If you need anything, yell. Okay? I’ll be in my room and be here in a second. And if you want to get out of the tub again I’ll help you.” Draco turned to leave the bath, but just before he left the room he glanced over his shoulder and smiled at Harry “Oh, and by the way. You shouldn’t take everything I say too seriously, Potter. I mean, it wasn’t really appropriate to say these mean things to you earlier today.”


t.b.c