Abyss
Title: Abyss
Author: drcjsnider
Rating: PG
Prompt Set: 50.4 (Draco/Hermione)
Prompt: 045. Abyss
Word Count: 867
Summary: Draco's falling apart.
Warnings: course language
Notes: Picks up where 030. Work left off
If Hermione didn’t live in Muggle London and didn’t have neighbors who expected to see her leaving for and returning from work, he might have lain in the hall the entire day. As it was, when she opened the door to her flat at 7:30 one morning to go to the office there he slept, sprawled on the floor in front of her doorway.
“Fuck,” she muttered, before giving Draco a nudge with the toe of her boot. “Malfoy, wake up!”
Draco groaned, threw one arm over his face, and replied in a husky voice, “Bugger off.”
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Hermione couldn’t believe he was doing this to her today. She had an important meeting at 11 a.m. to present a multi-million galleon elf liberation program to the head of her department. She didn’t want another one of Malfoy’s stunts to ruin her concentration.
Pushing her boot a bit more forcefully into Draco’s side, she hissed at him again. “Wake up, Malfoy!”
This time, he just groaned in reply.
Leaning down to tap his shoulder, Hermione’s nose was assaulted with the smell of smoke and stale alcohol. What little sympathy she had initially felt for him faded entirely away. Shaking him roughly, Hermione made several threats to turn him into a ferret and then call animal control. When none of these had any affect, she whispered in his ear. “Malfoy, if you don’t get up right now, I’m going to magically remove all your hair.”
Draco shifted his arm away from his face and cracked open one eye. “Idle threat,” he replied in a voice that was still raspy.
“Which we both know I don’t make,” she told him, reaching for her wand.
Opening both eyes, Draco looked at Hermione’s face intently. “Merlin,” he finally commented, letting out a small sigh of resignation. “You’re beautiful.”
Blushing, Hermione grabbed his arm and tried to help him to his feet. “Get up you lush. I don’t want to give my neighbors anything more to gossip about.”
Stumbling to his feet, Draco offered to Obliviate all of the Muggles on the block. “Shush,” she whispered harshly before forcing him into her flat. “Someone might hear you. Just go sit on the couch and try not to get sick on my furniture.”
As Hermione went into the kitchen to find him some Pepperup potion, Draco stretched out on the couch, using one of the armrests as a pillow.
Hermione shook her head as she stepped back into the room and saw that Draco had made himself comfortable, but she refrained from nagging him. Sitting down on the coffee table near his head, she offered him a clear potion. “Drink this.”
Without bothering to open his eyes, he put his hand out and waited for her to pass the vial to him. Sitting up slightly, he drank the potion in one gulp. A few drop dripped from his mouth down his neck, but he didn’t bother to clean it off. “Granger, don’t you have anything stronger?” he complained.
“If you want some hair of the dog that bit you,” she told him in a disapproving tone. “You’ll have to inflict your presence on someone else.”
“I didn’t get bit by a dog, did I?” he asked, in a slightly panicked tone. “Sweet Circe, I must have been plastered if I can’t remember getting mauled by a wild animal. Did it scar my face?” he fretted.
Barely refraining from rolling her eyes, Hermione shook her head. “No Malfoy you did not get bit by a dog. It is a Muggle expression - where you drink whatever you had the night before to get rid of your hangover.”
“Bloody hell, Granger. I feel bad enough already. Is it necessary for you to infect my brain with Mudblood nonsense too?”
Hermione would have hexed him if he didn’t already look so completely awful. His face was paler than normal, his cheeks were sunken in, and he had dark bluish bags under his eyes. It looked like he hadn’t bathed in days and like it had been weeks since he’d shaved or had his hair trimmed. His clothes were rumpled from sleeping on her doorstep, but they also seemed to be too big for him, hanging loosely around his frame. “You look like shit,” she told him truthfully.
“I was going for a Euro-trash look,” he joked, without laughing.
“I’d say you’ve succeed in achieving the trash part of it,” she stated briskly, hoping that if she was blunt enough he would pull himself together.
“Good old, Granger,” Malfoy responded without his usual smirk. “Never did bother to sugar-coat things.”
Resisting the urge to brush his hair from his face and ease his obvious emotional pain and insecurity, Hermione stood up. “I’m leaving for work,” she informed him. “Use the floo to get home whenever you feel better.”
Opening his eyes again, Draco propped himself upon on his elbows. “What have you done to me?” he asked, despondently. He didn’t wait for her to respond. “When is everything going to get better? When will it all get easier?”
“I wish I knew, Draco,” Hermione responded with a sad smile. “I wish I knew.”
Author: drcjsnider
Rating: PG
Prompt Set: 50.4 (Draco/Hermione)
Prompt: 045. Abyss
Word Count: 867
Summary: Draco's falling apart.
Warnings: course language
Notes: Picks up where 030. Work left off
If Hermione didn’t live in Muggle London and didn’t have neighbors who expected to see her leaving for and returning from work, he might have lain in the hall the entire day. As it was, when she opened the door to her flat at 7:30 one morning to go to the office there he slept, sprawled on the floor in front of her doorway.
“Fuck,” she muttered, before giving Draco a nudge with the toe of her boot. “Malfoy, wake up!”
Draco groaned, threw one arm over his face, and replied in a husky voice, “Bugger off.”
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Hermione couldn’t believe he was doing this to her today. She had an important meeting at 11 a.m. to present a multi-million galleon elf liberation program to the head of her department. She didn’t want another one of Malfoy’s stunts to ruin her concentration.
Pushing her boot a bit more forcefully into Draco’s side, she hissed at him again. “Wake up, Malfoy!”
This time, he just groaned in reply.
Leaning down to tap his shoulder, Hermione’s nose was assaulted with the smell of smoke and stale alcohol. What little sympathy she had initially felt for him faded entirely away. Shaking him roughly, Hermione made several threats to turn him into a ferret and then call animal control. When none of these had any affect, she whispered in his ear. “Malfoy, if you don’t get up right now, I’m going to magically remove all your hair.”
Draco shifted his arm away from his face and cracked open one eye. “Idle threat,” he replied in a voice that was still raspy.
“Which we both know I don’t make,” she told him, reaching for her wand.
Opening both eyes, Draco looked at Hermione’s face intently. “Merlin,” he finally commented, letting out a small sigh of resignation. “You’re beautiful.”
Blushing, Hermione grabbed his arm and tried to help him to his feet. “Get up you lush. I don’t want to give my neighbors anything more to gossip about.”
Stumbling to his feet, Draco offered to Obliviate all of the Muggles on the block. “Shush,” she whispered harshly before forcing him into her flat. “Someone might hear you. Just go sit on the couch and try not to get sick on my furniture.”
As Hermione went into the kitchen to find him some Pepperup potion, Draco stretched out on the couch, using one of the armrests as a pillow.
Hermione shook her head as she stepped back into the room and saw that Draco had made himself comfortable, but she refrained from nagging him. Sitting down on the coffee table near his head, she offered him a clear potion. “Drink this.”
Without bothering to open his eyes, he put his hand out and waited for her to pass the vial to him. Sitting up slightly, he drank the potion in one gulp. A few drop dripped from his mouth down his neck, but he didn’t bother to clean it off. “Granger, don’t you have anything stronger?” he complained.
“If you want some hair of the dog that bit you,” she told him in a disapproving tone. “You’ll have to inflict your presence on someone else.”
“I didn’t get bit by a dog, did I?” he asked, in a slightly panicked tone. “Sweet Circe, I must have been plastered if I can’t remember getting mauled by a wild animal. Did it scar my face?” he fretted.
Barely refraining from rolling her eyes, Hermione shook her head. “No Malfoy you did not get bit by a dog. It is a Muggle expression - where you drink whatever you had the night before to get rid of your hangover.”
“Bloody hell, Granger. I feel bad enough already. Is it necessary for you to infect my brain with Mudblood nonsense too?”
Hermione would have hexed him if he didn’t already look so completely awful. His face was paler than normal, his cheeks were sunken in, and he had dark bluish bags under his eyes. It looked like he hadn’t bathed in days and like it had been weeks since he’d shaved or had his hair trimmed. His clothes were rumpled from sleeping on her doorstep, but they also seemed to be too big for him, hanging loosely around his frame. “You look like shit,” she told him truthfully.
“I was going for a Euro-trash look,” he joked, without laughing.
“I’d say you’ve succeed in achieving the trash part of it,” she stated briskly, hoping that if she was blunt enough he would pull himself together.
“Good old, Granger,” Malfoy responded without his usual smirk. “Never did bother to sugar-coat things.”
Resisting the urge to brush his hair from his face and ease his obvious emotional pain and insecurity, Hermione stood up. “I’m leaving for work,” she informed him. “Use the floo to get home whenever you feel better.”
Opening his eyes again, Draco propped himself upon on his elbows. “What have you done to me?” he asked, despondently. He didn’t wait for her to respond. “When is everything going to get better? When will it all get easier?”
“I wish I knew, Draco,” Hermione responded with a sad smile. “I wish I knew.”