Dramione: Skills for life

6. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder

Draco threw open the bathroom door. Normally seeing a naked female in the bathtub would have called for the Malfoy charm, but one looked at her face caused him to collapse down beside her. "Hermione, whats wrong?"

One look at the young witch caused him to cringe. He gently placed a cool hand on her feverish forehead. Her usually thick curly hair was tied in big bun. She wore only a light sheen of sweat. Her hair was matted her her forehead and her eyes were bloodshot. She had huge bags underneath them and her lips were white and cracked.

"Get the hell out." snarled Hermione, shifting her harsh gaze to him. He was severely taken aback.

"Hermione, what did I-"

She shot up, water droplets flying from her body. "How DARE you speak to me! After all you've DONE!"

He recoiled as if he had been slapped. "Hermione, you forgave me for that! I thought we were past that!"

"Oh bull shit." sneered Hermione, standing up and a towel. "I still have nightmares! From you!"

"Hermione, what's wrong?" whispered Draco frantically. He had never once seen her act like this, and after living with someone for three months he knew what she was like.

All of a sudden, Hermione sunk to the bathroom floor and began to sob. She's having a fit or something! Thought Draco desperately.

"It's never going to get fucking better!" screamed Hermione, kicking her legs out. Draco stood up and ran. He ran all the way down Skid Row and up Homestead Avenue. The cute little perfect mailboxes for the perfect people had the last names stenciled in on the side. He read them until he caught Potters. Draco never thought he'd never see the day when he'd be going to Scarface for help.

"Potter! Potter! OPEN UP!" shouted Draco, pounding on the door. The Weaselette opened the door, looking severely pissed off. "Sorry to interrupt your shagging time, but I need Potter."

"Sod off Malfoy." snapped Ginny. Harry appeared behind her.

"What do you want?" He made no effort to keep the anger from his voice.

"Hermione's gone crazy. I have no idea, she's thrown like a fit or something!" gasped Draco. Harry and Ginny glanced at each other.

"She forgot." whispered Ginny.

"Shit." said Harry, before taking off in a sprint, Ginny and Draco just behind him. They ran to the apartment, where the door was ajar. "Where is she?"

"Bathroom." replied Draco as Harry ran in. Hermione lay on the floor sobbing. Harry lifted her up and brought her into the couch. He rocked her back and forth slowly.

"Sweetie, where is your potion?" murmured Harry. She sniffled.

"In the refrigerator." whimpered Hermione. "Oh Harry the memories. It hurts."

Ginny returned with a wine glass filled with a purple liquid. Draco recognized the licorice scent.

"Wait, that's just her tea. She drinks it every morning. It's licorice scented." mumbled Draco, his voice befuddled.

Hermione gulped the potion down, and handed the glass to Ginny who in turned brought it to the kitchen.

"Mione, why don't you take a nap?" asked Harry. She nodded feebly. He returned in a few minutes.

"I put her in pajamas and she's sleeping."

"Okay, what the hell just happened?" snapped Draco.

The pair of hero's looked at each other. "Malfoy, I don't know if we should tell you..."

"Well I think I have a fucking right to know, since I'm living with her." said Draco furiously.

"Look Malfoy, Hermione has PTSD." snapped Ginny.

"What's-?"

"Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. After the war, she got very depressed. St. Mungos prescribed this potion, to be taken every morning. If taken for a year, she will be cured. But she forgot today, and only once before hand." said Harry quietly. Draco sat there, soaking in the information. For the past six months or so, he had thought that the entire Golden Trio was unbreakable. Well now it seemed like someone, or some ones, broke Hermione Granger.
——————————————————————-
Hermione woke up and it was dark out. Her head hurt and she felt sleepy, despite clearly having been asleep for a while. She was wearing a big t-shirt and shorts. Hermione felt sick and dehydrated, so she wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and padded into the living room. Draco was sprawled on the couch with a book.

"Hi." whispered Hermione. Draco jumped up at the sound of her voice.

"Hermione." breathed Draco. She blushed. "How are you feeling? Better?"

Hermione looked down. "Draco, I am so sorry...so sorry that you had to deal with that."

Within a second he was in front of her, her small frail hands in his own. "Hermione, it is my fault you have these...issues. I want to help you."

She nodded. "Draco, I've been extremely appreciative of your company these past few weeks. I've began to consider you a friend...and I thought I would be okay without it for one day. But then I took that bath and I saw my scar. I just...I saw red."

Draco did something completely unexpected. He hugged her. Hermione seized up, before relaxing into his embrace. "Hermione, I want to be friends with you. I don't think of you as a-a-a that word. I've changed, we both have."

She nodded and put her head in the crook of his neck. "Draco?"

"Yes?"

"I'm hungry." mumbled Hermione. He laughed.

"Let's start cooking."

And they did. Hermione played her muggle radio and sang along to the songs. Occasionally they would glance up and share a wide smile. The 'married' couple got comfortable on the couch that night. Hermione explained a movie too him, that it was essentially a play. Together that sat and watched romantic comedies and action movies into the wee hours of the night. Hermione fell asleep on his shoulder, so he carried her to bed. Draco tucked the sleeping witch in, and stared at her.

"Goodnight Hermione." mumbled Draco, kissing her forehead. I love you.