Ginny paced the floor of her flat, venting out loud to no one. That morning, as she had sat in the locker room snorting cocaine, she had been caught by Gwenog Jones, her captain. An explosive argument had ensued, and Ginny was given an ultimatum-- either take six months to get clean and go to daily twelve step meetings, or she would be booted off the team for good.
“I mean this whole thing is ridiculous! I am not some addict! I just use to get through the day. It isn’t my fault that cocaine is the only thing that helps my depression,” she complained to her mirror.
The mirror sighed but otherwise remained silent. It had long ago stopped speaking to her, having its warnings about Ginny’s drug use fall on deaf ears. As Ginny gazed into the mirror for the first time in moths, she noticed how thin her face had gotten. She turned her face this way and that way to get a better look. She knew her clothes had become loose on her, but her face was entirely too thin.
As she looked closer, she noticed the bags under her eyes. Not that they were unusual. In fact, Ginny hardly ever slept, and when she did her dreams were filled with nightmares. Some of it was memories of Tom Riddle. Some of it was the people who had died in her arms during the Final Battle. Some of it was the year she had been tortured by the Carrows. So really, who could blame her for using?
Despite her anger at being ordered to go, Ginny knew she would attend the Narcotics Anonymous meetings. Hopefully, it was as anonymous as the name suggested. If it wasn’t, Ginny’s career as a professional Quidditch player would be done for.
From Ginny’s understanding, the meeting was led by a Squib in Muggle London. Ginny donned her Muggle clothing so as to fit in. She check her reflection in the mirror, and deeming herself appropriate, she set out to go to this stupid, bloody meeting.
Ginny was grateful for Hermione’s teaching as she took the subway. She consulted the map periodically, getting off at the outskirts of London.
She almost walked right past the building that was once a sewing workshop. It was old and the windows were very dusty. The sign in the window was barely legible as it said: Before and After; Narcotics Anonymous Meetings.
She checked her keg holster where she kept her wand. There would be Muggles as well as wizards at this meeting, so there would be no need to run in with wands blazing and scare everyone.
When Ginny gathered the courage to open the door, the smell of coffee and doughnuts hit her, causing her mouth to water. She barely registered the people in the room or the literature stacked on the tables. She made a beeline for the coffee, pouring it into one of the styrofoam cups.
While she sipped her coffee and munched her doughnut, Ginny looked around herself and took everything in. The chairs were arranged in a circle. Some of the chairs had a person sitting in them-- like the chair holding Draco Malfoy.
Ginny almost spit out the bite of coffee soaked doughnut. His hair was much darker, but Ginny would recognize the pale, pointed face anywhere. Except he wasn’t really pale anymore. In fact, he looked like he saw more sun than Ginny did, and she was a professional Quidditch player!
Draco hadn’t looked up. He had some sort of cord running from a black box in his ears. He was bobbing his hard as though there was music that only he could hear playing. For a moment Ginny questioned his sanity.
But then suddenly, Muggles she had never met were greeting her, showering her with hugs, and telling her how happy they were to have her at the meeting. Her view of Draco was obstructed, so when he was suddenly guiding her to the back Ginny was surprised-- though how she could have missed all six feet of him walking towards him she wasn’t quite sure.
“Why are you here?” Ginny demanded when they were as alone as they were going to get.
“Probably for being an addict like you,” he answered.
“I’m not an addict!” she hissed venomously.
Draco arched a brow, and Ginny expected him to call her a liar. She had a retort ready on her lips for him, but he didn’t argue. He merely shrugged and moved on with the conversation.
“Is this your first meeting?” he asked.
Ginny nodded as dread knotted itself up in her stomach. Suddenly, the doughnut didn’t seem like it was such a good idea.
“I won’t tell anyone I saw you here as long as you won’t tell anyone you saw me here,” Draco bargained.
Ginny rolled her eyes and said, “Like I would ever admit to being here with you.”
Draco chuckled as he said, “Okay, Red. Make sure you behave in front of the Muggles.
Ginny simply responded by rolling her eyes as Draco brushed past her, his cologne lingering after him. Ginny followed suit, sitting next to Draco just in case she needed to be told to behave in front of the Muggles. Draco checked his watch, cleared his throat, and began speaking.
“We are going to start our meeting with a moment of silence for the still suffering addict followed by the serenity prayer,” Draco said.
Silence filled the room and heads were suddenly bowed. Ginny felt very out of place, and panic began to set in.
“Moment,” Draco said, “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”
“Anyone want to read ‘Who is an Addict?’” Draco asked, and hands raised as people volunteered for the honor.
As Draco chose someone to read, Ginny realized that a squib didn’t lead the meetings; Draco did.
Ginny felt like she was going to hyperventilate. She heard the voice reading from what felt like a great distance.
“We didn’t become addicted in one day, so remember, easy does it.”
Ginny balked at the word ‘addicted.’ She wasn’t an addict. She could stop anytime she wanted to do so.
Ginny hadn’t realized she had actually voiced that thought until Draco turned in his chair to face her.
“So stop. Just don’t use for a month,” he said easily.
“But then I have nightmares about You-Know-Who,” she explained.
Draco shrugged. “I dream about what he made me do every night, and I’ve now been clean for five years. So if it is as simple as you say, Red, then just prove it to me. Stay clean. One month,” Draco said softly.
Ginny huffed. “Fine, I will.”
Draco motioned for the person to continue reading aloud.
Ginny spent the rest of the meeting staring into space and sneaking looks at the dirty blond Draco Malfoy with biceps. Had he really been clean for five years? Was he really an addict? What had he used? Thoughts and questions whirled around inside Ginny’s head.
Ginny planned on being the first person out of the door when the meeting ended, but when the moment came, her feet wouldn’t carry her, For a moment, she was stuck as everyone else left.
When it was just her and Draco, she found herself more relaxed. She observed Draco stacking chairs and emptying out the coffee pot before she was able to muster the courage to speak to him again.
“What were you addicted to?” Ginny asked.
“I am addicted to heroin,” Draco answered.
“I thought you said you have been clean for five years,” Ginny retorted.
Draco nodded as he said, “I have been, but addiction doesn’t work like that. Once an addict, always an addict. These meetings are the only thing proven to help.”
“I’m not an addict,” Ginny stubbornly said.
Draco sucked his teeth in thought for a moment before saying, “But if you were, that would be okay. Addiction isn’t a death sentence unless you make it one.”
“That is nice for people who are addicts,” Ginny said simply.
Draco folded his arms and stared at her as though he were assessing her or debating what to say next.
“Do you have a phone?” he asked.
Ginny shook her head no.
“Let me give you one. Even if you aren’t an addict, your body may be physically dependent on what you were using. Any time you ingest something too frequently your body starts needing it to function., So suddenly stopping can and most likely will make you very sick. So here,” he said and handed her a cell phone. “Call me if it gets too bad.”
Ginny took it and looked it over a minute. The phone was a simple flip phone; one like what Hermione had taught her to use. Ginny wasn’t surprised to see Draco’s number was already programmed into it.
“Thanks, I guess,” Ginny mumbled as she pocketed the phone.
Draco walked over to one of the tables, grabbed a book, turned back to Ginny, and handed her the small pocket size book.
“That is the Alcoholics Anonymous book. It’s great at explaining the difference between the user and the addict. Just mentally replace the word alcoholic with addict. Educate yourself even if you aren’t an addict. Someone you know probably is, Red,” Draco instructed her.
While Ginny highly doubted that anyone she knew was an addict, even she had to admit there was nothing wrong with being educated on a problem she didn’t have. It would be the perfect way to show Gwenog that Ginny Weasley was in fact NOT an addict.
“So when is the next meeting?” Ginny asked.
Draco turned back to the table, grabbed a schedule, and handed it to Ginny.
“This is our schedule. You will see people you know at some of these meetings. All I ask is that you respect their right to confidentiality and anonymity.”
Ginny nodded and said, “I can do that. I imagine these meetings are helpful to those who are addicts, and I wouldn’t want to hinder that.”
Draco gave a small smile as he said, “I appreciate that, and I like to think these meetings do help. They certainly have helped me quite a bit. I owe my life to this program.”
“Why did you use?” Ginny found herself asking, her curiosity piqued.
Draco took a deep breath, sucked his teeth, and then answered.
“During the war I saw so many people killed in my own home. Some of them I was forced to torture. He would stand behind me, his wand trained on my mother, and he would torture her if I didn’t torture the person in front of me.”
Draco shook his head. “You and I both knew how sadistic he was, and I didn’t want to remember any of that. I wanted to be completely numb. I didn’t want to see my victims’ screaming faces every time I breathed, and it was really that bad. I couldn’t live with what I had done, and heroin numbed me completely. It didn’t take long for me to become addicted to it.”
Ginny felt empathy for Draco, and she lightly rested her tiny hand on his broad shoulder. She hadn’t expected such open honesty from him, and she felt in her bones that Draco had changed for the better.
“I’ll be here tomorrow,” Ginny promised.
Draco nodded and said, “Call me if you need me.”
Ginny nodded and walked out; she easily blended in with the crowd, and in the blink of an eye, Draco had lost sight of her.
He only hoped she really would be back.
“I mean this whole thing is ridiculous! I am not some addict! I just use to get through the day. It isn’t my fault that cocaine is the only thing that helps my depression,” she complained to her mirror.
The mirror sighed but otherwise remained silent. It had long ago stopped speaking to her, having its warnings about Ginny’s drug use fall on deaf ears. As Ginny gazed into the mirror for the first time in moths, she noticed how thin her face had gotten. She turned her face this way and that way to get a better look. She knew her clothes had become loose on her, but her face was entirely too thin.
As she looked closer, she noticed the bags under her eyes. Not that they were unusual. In fact, Ginny hardly ever slept, and when she did her dreams were filled with nightmares. Some of it was memories of Tom Riddle. Some of it was the people who had died in her arms during the Final Battle. Some of it was the year she had been tortured by the Carrows. So really, who could blame her for using?
Despite her anger at being ordered to go, Ginny knew she would attend the Narcotics Anonymous meetings. Hopefully, it was as anonymous as the name suggested. If it wasn’t, Ginny’s career as a professional Quidditch player would be done for.
From Ginny’s understanding, the meeting was led by a Squib in Muggle London. Ginny donned her Muggle clothing so as to fit in. She check her reflection in the mirror, and deeming herself appropriate, she set out to go to this stupid, bloody meeting.
Ginny was grateful for Hermione’s teaching as she took the subway. She consulted the map periodically, getting off at the outskirts of London.
She almost walked right past the building that was once a sewing workshop. It was old and the windows were very dusty. The sign in the window was barely legible as it said: Before and After; Narcotics Anonymous Meetings.
She checked her keg holster where she kept her wand. There would be Muggles as well as wizards at this meeting, so there would be no need to run in with wands blazing and scare everyone.
When Ginny gathered the courage to open the door, the smell of coffee and doughnuts hit her, causing her mouth to water. She barely registered the people in the room or the literature stacked on the tables. She made a beeline for the coffee, pouring it into one of the styrofoam cups.
While she sipped her coffee and munched her doughnut, Ginny looked around herself and took everything in. The chairs were arranged in a circle. Some of the chairs had a person sitting in them-- like the chair holding Draco Malfoy.
Ginny almost spit out the bite of coffee soaked doughnut. His hair was much darker, but Ginny would recognize the pale, pointed face anywhere. Except he wasn’t really pale anymore. In fact, he looked like he saw more sun than Ginny did, and she was a professional Quidditch player!
Draco hadn’t looked up. He had some sort of cord running from a black box in his ears. He was bobbing his hard as though there was music that only he could hear playing. For a moment Ginny questioned his sanity.
But then suddenly, Muggles she had never met were greeting her, showering her with hugs, and telling her how happy they were to have her at the meeting. Her view of Draco was obstructed, so when he was suddenly guiding her to the back Ginny was surprised-- though how she could have missed all six feet of him walking towards him she wasn’t quite sure.
“Why are you here?” Ginny demanded when they were as alone as they were going to get.
“Probably for being an addict like you,” he answered.
“I’m not an addict!” she hissed venomously.
Draco arched a brow, and Ginny expected him to call her a liar. She had a retort ready on her lips for him, but he didn’t argue. He merely shrugged and moved on with the conversation.
“Is this your first meeting?” he asked.
Ginny nodded as dread knotted itself up in her stomach. Suddenly, the doughnut didn’t seem like it was such a good idea.
“I won’t tell anyone I saw you here as long as you won’t tell anyone you saw me here,” Draco bargained.
Ginny rolled her eyes and said, “Like I would ever admit to being here with you.”
Draco chuckled as he said, “Okay, Red. Make sure you behave in front of the Muggles.
Ginny simply responded by rolling her eyes as Draco brushed past her, his cologne lingering after him. Ginny followed suit, sitting next to Draco just in case she needed to be told to behave in front of the Muggles. Draco checked his watch, cleared his throat, and began speaking.
“We are going to start our meeting with a moment of silence for the still suffering addict followed by the serenity prayer,” Draco said.
Silence filled the room and heads were suddenly bowed. Ginny felt very out of place, and panic began to set in.
“Moment,” Draco said, “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”
“Anyone want to read ‘Who is an Addict?’” Draco asked, and hands raised as people volunteered for the honor.
As Draco chose someone to read, Ginny realized that a squib didn’t lead the meetings; Draco did.
Ginny felt like she was going to hyperventilate. She heard the voice reading from what felt like a great distance.
“We didn’t become addicted in one day, so remember, easy does it.”
Ginny balked at the word ‘addicted.’ She wasn’t an addict. She could stop anytime she wanted to do so.
Ginny hadn’t realized she had actually voiced that thought until Draco turned in his chair to face her.
“So stop. Just don’t use for a month,” he said easily.
“But then I have nightmares about You-Know-Who,” she explained.
Draco shrugged. “I dream about what he made me do every night, and I’ve now been clean for five years. So if it is as simple as you say, Red, then just prove it to me. Stay clean. One month,” Draco said softly.
Ginny huffed. “Fine, I will.”
Draco motioned for the person to continue reading aloud.
Ginny spent the rest of the meeting staring into space and sneaking looks at the dirty blond Draco Malfoy with biceps. Had he really been clean for five years? Was he really an addict? What had he used? Thoughts and questions whirled around inside Ginny’s head.
Ginny planned on being the first person out of the door when the meeting ended, but when the moment came, her feet wouldn’t carry her, For a moment, she was stuck as everyone else left.
When it was just her and Draco, she found herself more relaxed. She observed Draco stacking chairs and emptying out the coffee pot before she was able to muster the courage to speak to him again.
“What were you addicted to?” Ginny asked.
“I am addicted to heroin,” Draco answered.
“I thought you said you have been clean for five years,” Ginny retorted.
Draco nodded as he said, “I have been, but addiction doesn’t work like that. Once an addict, always an addict. These meetings are the only thing proven to help.”
“I’m not an addict,” Ginny stubbornly said.
Draco sucked his teeth in thought for a moment before saying, “But if you were, that would be okay. Addiction isn’t a death sentence unless you make it one.”
“That is nice for people who are addicts,” Ginny said simply.
Draco folded his arms and stared at her as though he were assessing her or debating what to say next.
“Do you have a phone?” he asked.
Ginny shook her head no.
“Let me give you one. Even if you aren’t an addict, your body may be physically dependent on what you were using. Any time you ingest something too frequently your body starts needing it to function., So suddenly stopping can and most likely will make you very sick. So here,” he said and handed her a cell phone. “Call me if it gets too bad.”
Ginny took it and looked it over a minute. The phone was a simple flip phone; one like what Hermione had taught her to use. Ginny wasn’t surprised to see Draco’s number was already programmed into it.
“Thanks, I guess,” Ginny mumbled as she pocketed the phone.
Draco walked over to one of the tables, grabbed a book, turned back to Ginny, and handed her the small pocket size book.
“That is the Alcoholics Anonymous book. It’s great at explaining the difference between the user and the addict. Just mentally replace the word alcoholic with addict. Educate yourself even if you aren’t an addict. Someone you know probably is, Red,” Draco instructed her.
While Ginny highly doubted that anyone she knew was an addict, even she had to admit there was nothing wrong with being educated on a problem she didn’t have. It would be the perfect way to show Gwenog that Ginny Weasley was in fact NOT an addict.
“So when is the next meeting?” Ginny asked.
Draco turned back to the table, grabbed a schedule, and handed it to Ginny.
“This is our schedule. You will see people you know at some of these meetings. All I ask is that you respect their right to confidentiality and anonymity.”
Ginny nodded and said, “I can do that. I imagine these meetings are helpful to those who are addicts, and I wouldn’t want to hinder that.”
Draco gave a small smile as he said, “I appreciate that, and I like to think these meetings do help. They certainly have helped me quite a bit. I owe my life to this program.”
“Why did you use?” Ginny found herself asking, her curiosity piqued.
Draco took a deep breath, sucked his teeth, and then answered.
“During the war I saw so many people killed in my own home. Some of them I was forced to torture. He would stand behind me, his wand trained on my mother, and he would torture her if I didn’t torture the person in front of me.”
Draco shook his head. “You and I both knew how sadistic he was, and I didn’t want to remember any of that. I wanted to be completely numb. I didn’t want to see my victims’ screaming faces every time I breathed, and it was really that bad. I couldn’t live with what I had done, and heroin numbed me completely. It didn’t take long for me to become addicted to it.”
Ginny felt empathy for Draco, and she lightly rested her tiny hand on his broad shoulder. She hadn’t expected such open honesty from him, and she felt in her bones that Draco had changed for the better.
“I’ll be here tomorrow,” Ginny promised.
Draco nodded and said, “Call me if you need me.”
Ginny nodded and walked out; she easily blended in with the crowd, and in the blink of an eye, Draco had lost sight of her.
He only hoped she really would be back.
Author notes: A huge thank you to the always amazing, Anise. Love ya!
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