The fires in the Hog's Head seemed dimmer than usual. The bitter winter air blew past the window, making it rattle. The snow made the night look brighter, what with the moon making the white frost shine on the windowsill.
Blaise checked his watch. 1:00 in the morning. His eyes itched with tiredness, as he watched his best friend gulp down his 48th glass of Fire whiskey.
"One more." Draco ordered, and Blaise was terrified to hear how lifeless he sounded.
"That's enough Draco." Blaise said firmly. "Let's go back to the castle."
"You go."
Blaise let out a frustrated sigh. He was sleepy, he was tired and he was irritated with his friend's behavior. He knew very well he couldn't just leave Draco alone like this, especially not at night when he was drunk. Ever since the holidays, Draco had been coming down here to the pub to drink until he was trashed. And who had to get him back to the castle without the teachers noticing? Blaise Zabini, of course.
He shuddered as he remembered where he had found Draco the first night of the Christmas vacation- out on the streets at night, howling like a mad dog, and half screaming, half singing 'We can hurt together.'
Blaise pulled himself together. He had to get Draco back to the castle, without the teachers noticing. Again. He watched as Draco drank his 49th glass. He had had enough.
"That's it. Up now." Draco felt too tired to fight against Blaise as he was pulled to his feet and dragged out the door. The wind was biting. The street was deserted. The occasional owl flew past. Draco leaned on Blaise, as they walked back the long, winding path of Hogsmead that led towards Hogwarts.
Draco felt horrible. He missed her. He missed her so fucking much- it was a screaming headache. But he didn't know where she was. She'd disappeared right after their fight, even before the holidays had started. He remembered his conversation with McGonagall when he'd gone into the Headmistress's office to inform her that the Head Girl hadn't come back to their dorm...
"Come in."
Draco walked in feeling anxious but he didn't show it on his face. "Good evening Professor."
"Yes, good evening, Mr.Malfoy. What is it?"
"Uhh..you see Professor, Granger hasn't come back to the dorm, and it's-" he looked down at his watch. "-12:00 already. I checked in the library but she isn't there. She's off duty-"
"Miss Granger has taken an extended holiday, ." McGonagall said, peering at him.
"Extended holiday?" he asked blankly.
"Yes, she left a few hours ago. She's started her vacation a week before the holidays."
"Oh."
He hadn't slept that night. He hadn't slept from that night on, thinking about where she was, what she was doing. The last week before holidays had been torturous for him. He had to sit in all his classes, thoroughly alone, missing her presence more than he should have. He spent more and more time out on the grounds at night, hoping to fill the hole her presence had left, with the wintry snow. It numbed him. He kept hoping to see her- reading on the couch, studying in the library, walking the corridors, lying on the grass next to him, staring at the sky.
Far worse than this empty feeling in his stomach had been his confrontation with Ginny Weasley. The day before the vacations started, she'd cornered him in one of the deserted corridors.
"Malfoy." she glared at him. Draco had no strength in him to fight with her and it was with some wariness that he said,
"Don't you have classes, Weasley?"
"Stop pretending." she hissed. "Where's Hermione?"
"I don't know." and it was the truth. He could see that she believed him.
She-Weasel let out a frustrated breath and stamped her foot. "What did you say to her? Did you hurt her?"
"Why would I?" Even to him, his voice sounded hollow.
"You worthless git." she said, with a look of disgust. "You pathetic, good for nothing, slimy-"
"Are you done?" he said.
"No I am not!" Her hair looked like it was on fire. She pushed him harshly and Draco almost tripped on his robes. "I told her to be careful around you!" she screamed. "I told her not to let you break her!" She pushed him again. "Now I don't fucking know where she is, nobody does! AND IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!"
Her words hurt more than her shoving. But she was oblivious and continued. "Do you have any idea how much you hurt her? I knew about your relationship with her! I knew you were only using her for sex! You're such a lowlife! Did it mean anything to you that she cared about you as much as she cared about all of us?! Now she's gone!" She broke down, tears gushing out of her eyes. Draco had never seen the fiery She-Weasel lose control like this and bawl her eyes out.
"She's g-gone, and I-I don't know if-if she's c-coming back! What have you done?"
Draco took a step back. It was too much for him, hearing her accusation. Too much for him to take in the blame. He stumbled and flew back down the corridor, leaving the red head to cry on her own. But he was unsuccessful in trying to leave behind his guilt that crushed him, once more. The nightmares were back, and he was a wasted spirit again. He ate less and less, the gaunt look in his eyes refused to leave him.
The memory of her refused to leave him...
His own words washed over him coldly, more bitter than the winter wind.
What have I done?
Draco stumbled and fell face first into the snow covered road. Blaise cursed and pulled him to his feet. Then Draco laughed. He laughed like a lunatic, thinking about his ridiculous situation. He laughed about how he'd forgotten he was sinner when she was with him. He laughed about how he'd thought about spending his life with her. He laughed about how useless he was and that she deserved someone better.
The mere thought about seeing her with someone else, made him angry. And that made him cry. His laughter faded and his tears began to flow. Draco howled and stumbled along the road, lost in his world of grief and misery. He was a wounded animal, who didn't know how anyone could save him. Not now. Not ever. He regretted every word that left his mouth in that pathetic broom closet. He couldn't bare to imagine the expression on her face as he had turned to leave. He couldn't stop thinking about what a fucking git he was, and that Ginny Weasley had been absolutely right.
IT WAS ALL HIS FUCKING FAULT.
Blaise watched with concern as he his friend continued to go insane. He knew what the problem was of course. Granger. Ever since she'd disappeared, Draco hadn't been, well...Draco. He was back to being the son of a Death Eater. He had never seen his friend act like this because of a...girl. Being second best to the Slytherin Sex God, had always pissed Blaise off. He'd seen Draco with five different girls, in five different places in one single night. But he'd never seen his friend lose it because of just one single girl. Who was a muggle-born. Who was a Gryffindor. Who was one of the Golden Trio.
Blaise Zabini had never imagined Draco Malfoy falling for Hermione Granger.
But he had fallen for her. Blaise could see he was head-over-heels for the bushy haired bookworm. He had seen how Draco looked at her, as though she as the only person in the room. Their silly arguments in class had been more of a giveaway than anything else. He didn't miss the looks they exchanged when they were in the Great Hall.
At the beginning of the year, Blaise had seen just how broken Draco was. With Granger in his life, he'd noticed how his best friend seemed to be smiling a lot more. Smirking a lot more. Insulting Blaise a lot more (in a friendly was of course).
Now, with Granger virtually non-existent, Draco was back to being haunted by his past and the memory of Miss Know-it-all. And Blaise was left to take care of the silvery-blond haired boy, who had no life left in him. No confidence. No swagger. Nothing except the heavy guilt and painful memories.
As Blaise watched Draco crying and laughing at the same time, he hoped for his friend's sake (and his own), that Hermione Granger would come back after the damn vacations and end this horrible, horrible nightmare.