addiction - draco malfoy

three

despite what you may think, blaise zambini is not a total dick. most people don't realise it, but most normal people also don't stalk their drug dealers before buying off them. the first time i'd heard he was dealing, i'd been interested straight away. emma had mentioned to me that she'd heard he dealt, thinking it would be fun to get high together at a party last year. she thought it would be a social thing, nothing too heavy, maybe a little weed or a psychedelic. she didn't know that the pain medicine i'd grown to need to get through the day had nearly run out, she'd thought it stopped taking it months ago.

of course i'd wanted someone who could maybe top up my prescription, but as usual, the voice in my head had battled it out with me.

he's going to try and kill you. he doesn't sell you normal drugs, it would kill you instantly. think about it. he's friends with malfoy, he's a pure blood. he obviously doesn't need the money. why else would he be selling unless it was to see other people in pain?

as much as i hated it, the voice had a point. people sold drugs for money, it was a well known fact. blaise had no reason to need that. anything he wanted, he wrote to his parents for and he got. so i decided to find out, and follow him myself. sounded simple.

it actually wasn't simple, like at all. i had no idea the boy got around so much. i hung around outside of the boys dormitories, i sat and watched him from several tables away in the library and i even waited for the most traumatising half hour of my life outside of the boys bathrooms, before he actually done anything remotely of interest. it didn't even seem like it would be interesting at first, he was just standing against a row of lockers opposite the owlery. his locker wasn't even in this row, but i didn't know this at the time obviously. i was sat on a bench at the end of the corridor, my hood up and my head buried in a book that i wasn't actually reading.

i watched as neville longbottom entered the owlery, pushing the door open and looking around nervously before starting up the spiral staircase and letting the door swing shut behind him. blaise followed him almost immediately. my first thought had been:

okay, maybe neville done his homework for him or something. they've probably meet up there to exchange it without being caught for cheating.

so i just waited. i waited five minutes, then six, then seven. and with each second that passed i grew more and more anxious. what if blaise was beating the shit out of neville upstairs and i'm just sitting here, pretending to read some book about magical creatures and waiting for him to finish?

i'd shoved the book into my bag, pushing open the door to the owlery tentatively and closing it quietly behind me. i waited for a minute or so, hearing nothing but silence. it didn't sound like neville had been beat to a bloody pulp.

he's lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood. blaise is watching him bleed out.

i had sighed, biting my thumbnail and looking up the stairs. i had to go check. i walked up the stairs as quietly as possible, if neville wasn't lying dead on the floor then i wanted to get away unseen.

as soon as i'd reached the top of the stairs though, it had became increasingly obvious that i was probably going to be seen. they'd had the sense to shut the door, and while the door wasn't particularly loud, it was a minimum fifty percent chance that one of them was facing the door.

you have to check. if he dies it'll be your fault. you're a terrible person to even think about leaving him to die.

i pushed them door handle down slowly, gently nudging the door open with my hip. sat facing away from me on the floor of the astronomy tower was neville and blaise. to the side of neville was an envelope stuffed full of cash, and although i wasn't close at all i could clearly make out the words 'london bridge psychiatric ward' on the front. it was easy to miss at first, but when i glanced a second time between blaise and neville, i noticed their hands were interlinked between them. it was an awkward kind of interaction, they clearly weren't used to doing things like that. they were sat in total silence, staring straight ahead with a slight gap between them. the moment seemed so private and intimate, that i knew i had to slip away without being seen.

i took my first step back successfully, but my second step i managed to stand on a shoelace that had come loose and send myself flying into the door, causing a crash and the pair to turn around to face me. blaise leapt apart from neville as quick as possible, letting his hand drop by his side, while neville scrambled to stuff the envelope in his pocket. blaise stormed over to me and i had flinched, fully expecting to be smacked or hexed or thrown right off the edge of the owlery.

instead he had stopped, gripping his wand in his left hand in a clear attempt to look threatening, and asked harshly 'what are you doing here?'. what was i actually doing here? stalking him, obviously, but i couldn't well say that without sounding like an absolute weirdo. 'i was, um, sending a letter home. my, um' blaise raised his eyebrows at me, clearly about to ask what the letter was about. i could tell he doubted me. 'my nan is sick. really sick. she's gonna die actually, so um, i was just gonna say, goodbye. you know?'. i watched as a flicker of sympathy flashed across blaise's face, and he glanced back over at neville. neville's cheeks were turning slowly red and he looked like he was about to cry. yep, karma was definitely gonna get me for this one.

'i'm sorry about your nana, elizabeth' neville sniffed dolefully and my stomach twisted with guilt. if he cried over my non existent dying grandmother i think i'd have thrown myself off the edge of the tower without a second thought. 'yeah' blaise said awkwardly, exhaling shakily before continuing 'you're not gonna, uh, tell anyone about this are you?'.

i debated it for a second, i won't lie. blaise and his friends, with the exception of malfoy, had made emma's life a living hell after she'd came out. it could be the ultimate revenge, the best possible way to make him eat his words. but then i looked over his shoulder at the way neville was looking at him, the adoration evident on his face. everyone deserved at least one great romance in their lifetime, and if i outed blaise i would be immediately putting a stop to neville's.

'i won't tell' i announced, watching as blaise's shoulders dropped about a mile. he had obviously, like me, known exactly what would happen to him if i outed him. 'i'll post my letter later, sorry for interrupting' i'd turned on my heel and left, and as tempting as it was, i kept my word. i didn't even tell emma or lily, for fear of them blurting it out at a party. i'd not so much as mention when blaise would come back after curfew to the slytherin common room, when i was the only one in the entire house awake. sometimes we'd talk for a bit, sometimes i'd simply take in his slight blush and the smile he was fighting and excuse myself. everyone knows that the best love stories are the ones that are private. memories are much more special when they're not tainted by other people.

there'd be times where i'd walk down the corridor and watch as crabbe and goyle would shout after neville, calling him a faggot or asking him if he watched them in the showers, and i'd wait for blaise to say something. to tell his friends to shut the fuck up and leave him alone. he never did. i'd think that neville deserved better, he deserved a boyfriend that would hold his hand in public and defend him with their friends.

but then i'd think about the envelope full of money addressed to the psych ward neville's parents were in, and i'd think about a boy risking his place at the school to earn that money. i'd think about a boy so lonely that he didn't even have friends to confide in, a boy so scared that he would sneak around meeting his boyfriend after curfew in the weirdest most unthinkable locations. i'd watch as he looked at neville helplessly, shooting apologetic glances and i'd see the tears threatening to spill over in his eyes when he came back to the common room late at night. maybe neville deserved better, but blaise did too.