Breaking Out, Breaking Down

A/N
In celebration of the announcement of a new wizarding world movie in the works...here's chapter 7! I am so excited for this movie to come out, even more excited that the Queen is writing the screenplay herself! Review review review! Pleeaaassse?!
Also, a huge shout out to my best friend and beta/co-writer Weaselbee for helping me so much more with this chapter than any of the others. Most of this is her writing with us discussing the happenings while it was in progress. So let's all give her a round of applause for being amazing!

I promise it'll pick up soon. Just getting a foundation set up. There's so much more to this story. It's going to be a long one.

Until next time!
~Draconis and Weaselbee


Draco just stood beside her bed, his hands idle at his sides as he pondered what it was he should do. He looked at the outline of the woman on the bed before him that lay hidden in the nights darkness, looking for a clue as to what she'd been asking exactly.

"I'm not leaving your flat, Granger. I'll still be here." The blonde said as he turned his body towards the door. An arm reached out and grabbed his wrist, it's grip panicked. He stopped and looked at where she was. He could barely make out her face in the dark, but he was sure that she was looking up at him with those big brown eyes.

Malfoy moved back to her bed and sat carefully on the edge, watching her silhouette lie back down. His hand went back to stroking through her hair, but he didn't lay down.

Draco felt as though words weren't important at the moment as he got lost in his own thoughts, although his fingers still absentmindedly played with her soft curls.

"Malfoy. You can lay down. I won't try to kill you in your sleep. I promise." Her voice was soft and muffled. He could tell she was was on the verge of sleep. He smiled softly, finding comfort in the fact that she couldn't see his face.

He just shook his head in response, not able to find his voice. He didn't know how to speak in situations like this. He was slightly uncomfortable sitting in her room with her while she was trying to fall asleep.

She rolled onto her side and looked at him. They stayed like that for a while before he heard her breathing regulate, the tell-tale sign that she was fast asleep. He stood up and walked back out to the living room and settled onto the bed she had put out for him and drifted off to sleep.

Hermione woke up feeling refreshed, a first in a little over a year. Feeling as though something was amiss, she crawled from her warm nest she had created from her blankets in her sleep, and she fumbled to find some clothing. Her head swivelled as she ventured out into the living room, and the first thing her eyes fell upon was the perfectly made up make-shift bed that was completely void of any traces of Draco Malfoy. Her heart twanged a bit as she head toward the bathroom, but at the same time, she welcomed the alone time.
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Granger spent her time that day productively. Deciding the morning she found Draco gone she needed an income and some way to spend her time, Hermione had wrangled her hair into a strict knot at the nape of her neck, and charmed the only blazer she had into fitting her a bit better. Wearing it with a pencil skirt and azure blouse, she conjured up a plausible resume and scarfed down a bowl of cereal before she made her way to a muggle library 3 blocks over. They hired her as a librarian Monday to Friday in the mornings. It left her afternoons free.

She had gone home, changed into a t-shirt and jeans, and set about cleaning the place up. She boxed up any remaining bottles, swept and mopped, and opened all the windows to air the place out. Once her hands were pruny from being wet, she curled up on her plastic chair and did something she hadn't in months; she read. Not out of necessity, not in search of a potion. She read to read. She reveled in the grainy feeling of the pages against her fingers as she turned page after page, and the afternoon dissipated. When she finally looked up, it was getting late and her stomach rumbled. She pulled herself from the position, and stretched her hands above her head as she shuffled to the kitchen and used her wand to get food cooking. The brunette propped her head on her hands as she set her elbows on the counter. Images of Draco's kindness flipped through her head as she boiled pasta. She missed his presence slightly, but slowly pushed thoughts of him from her mind as she poured the heated sauce over the al-dente noodles and stood at the counter to eat.

The rest of her week consisted of working mornings, and visiting the Burrow. Molly was so over-joyed, she pulled at her hair and made huge meals, and had Hermione help with cleaning and gardening, and just enjoyed the company of the girl she had watch grow and bloom into the woman she was. It was blatantly obvious that Ron and Harry were thrilled to meet her there, and Hermione couldn't help but feel the same. It helped to ground her, and made it feel like things were becoming more stable. Her evenings were much less enjoyable.

Hermione spent night after night alone, waking from the same nightmare that tore through her very soul, and left her shaking and sobbing in the tangle of blankets that matted her bed. The tremors wracked her heaving body as she yearned for the comforting touch of Draco's hand in her hair, the soothing feeling of someone calming her, someone who understood. As the nights of the week progressed, the nightmares got worse and worse, and the anxiety attacks that followed left her alone in the shadows of her past and broken. She'd sit on the mattress until the sun forced it's way passed the faded curtains and trailed across her lap. It took everything she had to pull her sanity back together, put her thoughts of Draco to the back of her mind, and get on with her day.

Friday night was unbearable. Try as she might, she couldn't shake the nightmare. Desperate to rid herself of the dreams and thoughts of the man that came with them, she pulled the potion kit from her closet and swore. Tipping the little box upside down, she cursed again as all the phials were empty. Her hands were shaking as she swept everything clumsily back into the box, kicked it weakily toward the closet, and snatched her purse and wand from the floor beside the bed. She apparated with a pop.

Landing with a sickening thud, Hermione lost her footing and fell on her hands and knees in a puddle. Struggling back to her feet, she wrapped her arms around her midriff and shuffled off down Knockturn Alley, scanning the random scattering of witches and wizards that clung to the edges of the walkways like flies. It took the young witch 20 minutes of searching until she found the potions vendor. He was tall and lanky, with greasy hair that was the colour and texture of sand. It hung disgustingly to his chin, and his beady black eyes were centered in his face. His lips were pursed together, and the trench coat he wore hung loosley from his shoulders, clearly much to large for his frame. She boldly approached the man, shaking from a mix of the nightmare and being chilled from her encounter with a puddle.

"I need two phials of Dreamless Sleep Potion." Her voice rang around the quiet alley, and the man looked her up and down skeptically.

"You sure your old enough to be here. Not lost, are you pet?" His voice was as oily as his hair, and the slimey grin that stretched across his tight features turned the muggleborn witches stomache.

Her arm darted out, her eyes grew cold, and her wand pointed directly between the wizards eyes. She watched as he swallowed nervously, and pointed his own wand at his palm. Two phials were conjured and handed shakily to the witch. She took them with her free hand, and she in turn conjured 4 galleons from her pocket to his hand. She gave a final glare as she turned and Apparated.


Sprinting from her landing spot in the living room into the kitchen, her head pounding, she pulled a full mickey of vodka from the cupboard beside the fridge and twisted the top off in one twist. Hermione's head was so boggled, foggy and broken that she took 4 extra strength pain killers for her pounding headache, emptied the dreamless sleep potion phials down her throat, and chased them with half the bottle of vodka. The young witch stopped to breath, and quickly downed more of the alcohol. The glass bottle clattered to the counter as her head swam, and the last thing she remembered was the floor spinning up to meet her as her body collapsed under her.
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Hermione slowly allowed her eyes to flit open, squinting in the bright light that shone down on her. Her head felt slightly fluffy, and when she tried to pull her torso up, a strong hand pushed her gently back down. She brought her hand shakily up to shield her eyes, and vaguely could make out the faint appearance of Draco Malfoy. For some reason unkown to her, her stomach settled down, and her head began to quiet and clear.

Hermione forced her eyes open and let them gaze up at the grey ones that were hovering over her. Bracing her hands beside her, she slowly pushed herself into a sitting potition and looked around. From what she could tell, she was in Regulus Blacks old room at Grimmauld Place. Draco was perched at the end of the bed, the brown sheets tussled against his legs.

"What is going on?" was the only question of the hundreds that were rocketing around in her head that managed to surface. The look that fell across Malfoys face told the young woman that the answer wasn't good. Draco ran a hand threw his hair, and trailed it over his face. She noticed that black bags hung under his eyes, and he looked worn.

"Long story short, you poisoned yourself." His words hung in the air like smoke, and echoed through Hermione's head. "Talk about a stupid move, Granger."

"How?" A strained look pulled onto the mans face as he shifted his weight around and leaned back on the footboard.

"As far as Molly could tell, it was a lethal dose of Dreamless Sleeping Draught, enough alcohol to drown a dragon and some kind of muggle medicine." His voice was cold and almost angry sounding but more emotionless than anything. His eyes were icy and his words almost seemed condescending. "Harry and Ron are at work but they'll be ecstatic to know you're going to be ok."

Her innards heaved, and Hermione emptied the contents of her stomach over the edge of the bed onto the floor. She felt him hold her hair back as she continued to be violently sick and shudder and shake as tears cascaded from her eyes.

All Draco could make out of the mumbles that escaped between the episodes of illness were "I'm such a fool", "So sorry", and "How could I be so ignorant?". Once the attacks halted, he stood up and cleaned up the mess on the floor. When he looked back over at her she was sleeping again. Draco shook his head and walked out without looking back, hoping she would be able to sleep without a potion and without being haunted by a night that left him hollow.