Sour Grapes

Chapter 29 - Just Kids

Draco had a headache.

Cracks of sunlight shone past the edges of the curtains covering his floor to ceiling windows.

Through his haze he remembered that he was in the living room of his flat; he'd spent the past few nights passing out on the couch. This was due to the fact that his bed still smelled like Hermione, and he did not want to be surrounded by her scent... nor was he ready to wash it away.

Wandlessly summoning the vial of potion he'd placed on his coffee table in advance the night before, he popped the cork and downed it in one.

How fucking pathetic, he thought.

He'd had the same thought when he'd brewed a vat of hangover potion somewhere between arriving back to his flat after Azkaban, and forcing himself to write that owl full of lies to Hermione.

Convenient excuses always ran out eventually, and his time was running short.

He was at a complete loss as to what to do. He didn't want to alert Blaise or Harry to the fact that he had to break things off with Hermione.

They would ask questions.

"What are you gonna do, just ignore her full stop?" (Blaise)

He didn't know what he was going to do.

"Why are you letting your Father's opinion affect your life when he's in prison?" (Harry)

It wasn't that simple.

And they would have opinions.

"I can't believe you still care what your sodding father thinks of you." (Blaise)

He didn't. Truly. Or rather... he couldn't. Too painful.

"You're giving up awfully quick, Draco, maybe you prefer being miserable." (Harry)

He hadn't given up, he just had no idea what to do yet. Though, the misery thing struck a chord.

They would want to get more involved, and that was a fact he couldn't hold at bay much longer.

Insufferable bastards. Already owling him five times a day. Each.

He'd blocked his floo and warded his flat against apparition. He'd made the concession of allowing owls in case his Father decided to send him more soul-crushing directives. Couldn't miss those.

However, Harry and Blaise would surely not stand another full day of this.

Then there was Hermione...

Merlin knew what was going through her mind. He was so hopeful that she believed his New Zealand story, because Harry and Blaise had not, and they'd owl'd him to tell him so on Sunday evening after hearing it from Hermione... because of course the two of them had been together. He wondered if Ginny was getting jealous yet.

They hadn't blown his cover, but they were impatient for explanations, and Draco was sure that Harry would send the Aurors hunting for him if he waited much longer.

He had wanted so badly to ask them how Hermione was doing, but didn't think he'd get much response without providing some information to them in return. Information he wasn't ready for them to have. Who knew what they'd do. Whether he mentioned his Father or not, they would suspect his involvement, and then what? They'd probably try to visit the prison. He couldn't have either of them getting tangled up in his mess.

After all, he had no way of warning them of what his Father had become.

Besides, if he was to keep up the ruse that he was out of the country, he couldn't very well start a paper trail.