Hell Above

CHAPTER TWO

Hermione stayed in a three bedroom shack with Harry and Ron. They decided they would move in together after the war. They were all they had left. The shack was far from any sort of civilization. They became annoyed with the press while living in London so they decided to get as far away as possible.

The house was quaint with its quirks. The floors creaked, the roof leaked, and there was a terrible draft. Not to mention it was right on the coast so when the nights got cold, their house got colder. From the outside, it was just your average rundown home. There were wildflowers across the yard. Nobody had bothered to weed in years. There was a shell wreath hanging on their front door which made it feel inviting. The inside, however, was a fucking disaster.

The three of them had really let themselves go after the war. They tried to cope with their grief by any means necessary. There were beer cans all over the floor and liquor bottles smashed on the rugs. Pill bottles of narcotics were spread about the house. There were no traces of marijuana or cocaine because they would usually use them up as soon as they got their hands on them again. They became quite fond of the variety of muggle drugs. They became bad influences on each other as they would experiment with just about anything. Anything to numb the pain.

Not a day went by that Ron didn't grieve over Fred. He would indulge in pain pills and sleep the day away. Harry, on the other hand, never slept. He was mostly coked out pacing and talking to himself all night. Hermione's preference was alcohol. She would often wake up still drunk and keep it that way until she blacked out every night. The war between themselves and addiction had begun.

***
Hermione woke up late in the afternoon with a throbbing headache. She didn't know what time or day it was. She didn't want to know. The more she thought about reality, the more likely she was to break down. She avoided the sun and would close every curtain in the house as soon as she got out of bed. Her first instinct was to go downstairs and get a drink. She walked down the stairway stepping over the trash she never bothered to clean up.

Harry was sitting at the table. He was drinking a cup of coffee and staring out the window. He didn't sleep last night. Hermione went over and closed the blinds which cut off his intense thoughts.

"Good morning." Hermione grabbed a bottle of vodka from the counter and poured herself a shot. It was a hair of the dog moment to keep herself from vomiting all over the kitchen floor. "How did you sleep?"

"I didn't."

Hermione didn't expect any other answer than that one. She threw her head back as she downed her strong drink. She got a lot better at handling her alcohol. Harry looked at her in disgust.

"I've been thinking, Hermione. Maybe we should all get clean." He said that every other day. Hermione never believed him. "Maybe we should all get help."

"Yeah, let's go get help." she said in a sarcastic tone. "Why don't we just tell the daily prophet and let the whole world know that their savior Harry Potter is a no good drug addict." she yelled at him a lot lately. She lost control of her emotions too easily. It never seemed to phase Harry though. He loved her no matter what. Deep down he felt as if it was his fault they all fell off the deep end.

"Why don't we just take a break today?" He took the bottle from Hermione's hand before she could pour another shot and put it away. "We could go on a walk and get our mind off things. We haven't hung out in a while." Harry always seemed to come to his senses when he was on a come down. Hermione took a deep breath and nodded at him. It would mean a lot to him if she at least made an effort.

Ron had come out of his bedroom which was really rare. He stumbled down the stairs and walked into the kitchen without saying a word.

"Hello, Ron. Fancy seeing you here on this fine morning." It wasn't morning. Hermione didn't know that.

"What's so fine about it?" Ron didn't know that either. He started rummaging through the medicine cabinet trying to find something to ease his withdrawals. "We need to go to town today."

"Actually Ron, Hermione and I were going to take a break."

"Bullshit. I know for a fact that Hermione has been drinking since she woke up. I can smell it on her."

Hermione was embarrassed. She remembered when she lost control and stopped trying to do something about it. She took a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves and her nausea.

"We're going to take a walk on the beach. Do you want to join us?"

"What's in it for me?" Ron was extremely hostile lately. Things have gotten worse since they moved so far from his family.

"You don't have to come. It was just an offer." Even though Hermione cared about her friend, she liked it better when he stayed in his room.

Ron walked out leaving Harry and Hermione in the kitchen.

"Shall we?" Harry grabbed her hand and they headed out the door. It was a warm August evening and there was a slight breeze that brought the temperature down to a comfortable 65 degrees.

Hermione squinted as the sun hit her eyes. She couldn't remember the last time she had been outside. She forgot how beautiful the ocean was. The waves crashed down and slowly rippled back. She felt peace.

They walked down the beach feeling the sand in between their toes. It felt like a new sensation. They had been cooped up in the house for far too long.

"We should do this more often." Hermione embraced the salty air on her face as she danced around in the sand. Harry watched her fall down and crack up at herself. He smiled. Even though she might have been a little buzzed, he hadn't seen her this happy in months. He was glad she agreed to go with him. He missed his best friend. He sat down beside her and wrapped his arm around her and they watched the sun set behind the sea.

"I think we should really consider getting clean." Hermione nodded. She wanted nothing more than to be sober and feel good about herself again. It was just too hard for her to put down the bottle without some sort of motivation.

The orange sunset soon faded to dark blue and then black. The moon was like the brightest pearl in the blackest sea. Harry helped Hermione off the ground. She brushed the sand off from her backside. Harry grabbed her waist and started to dance with her. He always knew how to cheer her up. Even though he was a terrible dancer, she felt at home in his arms. They laughed as they danced their way back to the shack. She missed the feeling of happiness. She said goodnight to Harry and smiled all the way up to her room to go to bed.

She hoped that she would fall asleep right away. She hardly did anything all day but she was still exhausted. She closed her eyes and instantly knew that it was a lost cause. She tossed and turned for an hour before reaching under her bed. She pulled out a bottle of gin from her secret stash. She found herself desperately in need of a drink.