Baton Rouge

- 14 -

Day 3 - Wednesday

Hermione groaned as she woke from her light sleep. What time was it now? Apparently not too early, for daylight was seeping into the room through Malfoy's bedroom window, stinging Hermione's eyes painfully. She could hardly bear the brightness and tried to escape it by rolling over and snuggling even deeper into the blanket.

She felt miserable, but that wasn't because she had only slept a few hours. Her whole body was still shaking, she was uncomfortably nauseous and she felt all sweaty again.

By now, the longing for the little white pills had become so great that she would have alternating hot and cold flashes whenever she thought about what it would be like to swallow one of them. It was unbearable and Hermione wondered how much longer she would have to endure this condition until it would get better.

As she turned a little further away from the window and toward the middle of the bed, her arm bumped into something solid and warm, and she allowed herself a glimpse.

Draco Malfoy was lying next to her, clad only in a pair of jeans and sound asleep, which made Hermione freeze. She sat up very slowly and carefully but despite her caution, she felt dizzy and had to take a few deep breaths.

Then she remembered the previous night. Now her personal nightmare, as she secretly called him more and more often, laid in bed next to her and slumbered blissfully while she struggled with the cold turkey she had to thank him for. Prick.

For some reason she couldn't stand it that he slept that peacefully. So she decided without further ado to wake him up.

"Malfoy!" She shook his shoulder and leaned over him. "Wake up." Malfoy grumbled and only stirred slightly.

"Let me sleep," he demanded, but Hermione didn't really care what he wanted. "Open your eyes, Malfoy, or I'll throw up in your bed!"

That worked. Malfoy sat up in bed quicker than Hermione had expected, and she fell back onto the mattress in surprise.

"You have to throw up?" he asked, slightly panicked, and Hermione blushed with embarrassment.

"It feels like it even though I haven't eaten anything. I feel absolutely queasy and dizzy." To punctuate her words, she put a hand to her stomach and gave Malfoy a reproachful look. He didn't look pleased, but neither angry.

Malfoy got up quickly and crossed the bedroom in his inimitable predatory manner, first putting on a shirt and then changing his denims for sweatpants.

"All right, come on. I'll take you to the bathroom," he said in a surprisingly soft voice.

Hermione nodded, trying to ignore for at least a few seconds that it was Draco Malfoy taking her hand and helping her up. He waited a moment, but noticing how badly her legs were shaking, he decided to lift her up in his arms, which made Hermione gasp in surprise.

"You should take a warm shower too. You're all sweaty again," he murmured, and the young witch felt embarrassed even more.

Malfoy made her wonder, for the first time, why she had ever taken the pills regularly. It wasn't her style to drown her sorrows in drugs or alcohol. At least, hadn't been. But that had changed when she had entered her former brothel in Knockturn Alley for the first time. At some point she just had felt the need to forget various things and make her life more bearable.

Now, being carried into the bathroom in Malfoy's arms (what was pretty pathetical) she realized that maybe he was right about her having to change something. Stop taking the pills would be better for her, no matter how difficult it was. Once she got through this damn withdrawal, she would finally have a clear head. And that was exactly what Hermione needed.