Ginny woke up with a groan. All night she dreamed of Tom and what happened in the Chamber of Secrets. This was day one of no cocaine, and Ginny was already hating it.
She had promised Draco she would call him throughout the day, starting with when she woke up. So Ginny dug under her pillow for the tiny flip phone. When she had retrieved it, she went to the only number in the phone and hit call.
The phone rang and rang, and then it rang some more. Ginny was about to hang up when Draco finally answered.
“Hello?” he mumbled, sounding very much asleep.
Ginny whined into the phone, “This day already sucks.”
There was a pause and then, “Who is this?”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s Ginny. The stunningly attractive non-addict redhead you gave a cell phone to for moments such as this.”
“Oh. Sorry, I just didn’t realize you woke up at the ass crack of dawn,” he mumbled into the phone.
Ginny snorted. “I’m a Quidditch player, Malfoy. I’m used to training all day every day.”
“Yeah, I bet. Have you used yet?” he asked.
“No, but I want to,” she admitted.
Draco cleared his throat and said, “That is normal; just don’t use. If you aren’t an addict, it should be uncomfortable but not impossible to be sober.”
“And once I prove I’m not an addict?” she asked.
There was a chuckle, and Draco said, “Remember, you have to not use for a month, but if you can manage it, I’ll talk to Gwenog.”
Ginny felt stupid happy despite feeling like death warmed over. In a month she would be back to playing Quidditch; she just had to not use. It was so simple.
“You know,” Draco began softly, “You didn’t ask the most important question.”
“Which is?” Ginny asked.
There was a moment of silence followed by a sigh and more silence.
“Hello?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’m here. The most important question is what will you do if you discover you are an addict, Red,” Draco explained.
Ginny groaned loudly, “You just want me to be an addict.”
Draco’s tone was icy as he said, “Actually I don’t want anyone to be am addict. In case you forgot people die from this disease; it isn’t a joke.”
Ginny felt utterly chastised. “Malfoy, I-I’m sorry. I didn’t… I wasn’t trying to-”
“It’s fine,” Draco interrupted, saving her the embarrassment. “Just know that I take this very seriously. Right now I am fighting for your life against this drug.”
“What do I need to do to show you that you don’t need to fight for my life?” Ginny asked.
There was a yawn, and then Draco groggily replied, “Just don’t use, Red. And if you want to use, call me. I work, but I will call or text you back as soon as I possibly can.”
Malfoy worked? Ginny pictured him living off a trust fund.
“What do you do?” Ginny found herself asking, genuinely wanting to know.
“I work counseling people who have substance abuse issues. Mostly I work with Muggles, but since the war the number of witches and wizards who abuse drugs and alcohol has gone up. It is actually on a very steady rise for people around our age,” he explained.
“Oh,” was all Ginny could find to say, because she really couldn’t come out and say, ‘But you were such a judgmental and selfish asshole in school that I can’t imagine you willingly helping others.’
“Surprised?” Draco asked as though he just knew what she was thinking.
Ginny blushed as she said, “Well… yeah.”
Draco chuckled. “The Twelve Step Programs change you, if you let them. They aren’t just good for addicts, either. Anyone can become a better version of themselves by working the steps. I’ve seen it.”
Ginny smiled into the phone. “I feel like this is a plot to get me to work the steps,” she said.
Draco laughed. “No, not yet at least. You aren’t ready for the steps.”
Ginny had no response.
“Anyway, Red, I’m going to get ready for work. Call me if you need me. My advice is to keep yourself busy. Don’t sit around doing nothing. Do you know how to text?” Draco asked.
Ginny nodded, and then remembered he couldn’t see her and said, “Yes, I know how to text.”
“Okay, good. I may text instead of calling back right away, just until I can call back. But do something productive. I’ll talk to you later.”
They said goodbye and hung up, and Ginny was left with one thought: what the bloody hell was something productive?
~~~
Ginny Weasley was more than uncomfortable. She was in pain, she couldn’t stop shitting, her head ached like no tomorrow, she was sore, and the cold sweats weren’t helping to top it all off. And Ginny knew, somehow, she just knew that if she had cocaine it would all be better. Feeling like this would stop. But Gwenog Jones was going to randomly drug test her, and she was going to have to pass.
Ginny flipped open the phone and called Draco. It went almost immediately to voicemail. Ginny groaned and hung up, wanting to throw the phone across the room into the blasted wall. Breaking something might make her feel better, as it so often did. Hell, she played Quidditch to get the anger out of her. The training was intense, and it kept her drained enough that she wasn’t a holy hell as the twins had called her.
Ginny wondered if this feeling of wanting cocaine so badly that her stomach was in pain would pass. Except it wasn’t exactly painful. She just knew it was like knots twisting and releasing in her stomach. And she just knew what the solution was, and the more she thought about it, the more prevalent it became in her mind.
Was this hell? Because it surely felt like it.
The phone dinged with a text from Draco.
Breathe; I’ll call in five
Ginny wanted to cry she was so relieved. She set the phone down and stared at it, each second feeling like an eternity. When would this be over? Why was physical dependency such a bitch? And why did she feel this urge she couldn’t control?
The phone rang and Ginny grabbed it, flipping it open.
“Hello?” she said breathlessly.
Draco’s voice was calming, like waves at the beach. Ginny had been to the beach once, and she laid in the sand and let the tide come in on her. It had been the most at peace she had ever felt in her life, and Draco’s voice was like a living reminder of that time.
“You okay?” he asked.
Ginny sighed as tears formed in her eyes. She began to explain to Draco about the feeling in her stomach, and he listened silently. When she was done she felt marginally better. Maybe there was something to this calling people business.
“That… Merlin, you need to read the basic text. The Doctor’s Opinion. That isn’t physical dependency that you are describing. What you are describing is what we call the phenomena of craving, or the allergic reaction we have to a substance. You use, and then as an addict you want more. That is what you are describing. It’s the worst in the first few days of getting clean because the drug is in your system clouding your judgment,” Draco explained softly.
Ginny screeched.
“I am NOT a bloody addict!” she hollered.
“Then why are you having the reactions of an addict?” Draco asked quietly.
Ginny didn’t bother to say goodbye. She just flipped the phone shut and tossed it onto the bed next to her, tears streaming down her face. She was NOT an addict, no matter what Draco Fucking Malfoy said. And she was going to prove it. She was going to go use just a little bit and then stop. If she just weaned herself off the cocaine she wouldn’t be having these blasted problems.
Ginny Weasley was going to go get high, and all the back to back calls Draco was making didn’t matter because she was going to get up, and go get some bloody cocaine.
Except she could barely stand, and when she did stand her stomach revolted against her. She wanted to die because maybe then this hell would cease to exist. That was all this could be was hell.
As her phone rang for the sixth time she answered.
“What the fuck do you want?” she screamed.
“I want to help you. Please, let me help. I know what you’re going through,” Draco said.
Ginny began crying in earnest.
Ginny wouldn’t remember telling him where she lived. She wouldn’t remember him saying that Neville was coming to get her. But she would remember waking up in a Muggle Hospital, a needle in her arm, and Draco in the chair asleep as though he had stood vigil all night like some guardian angel.
She groaned and kicked her feet to get his attention, and Draco groggily opened his eyes.
“Hey,” he said, stretching his long limbs.
Ginny glared at him.
“Look, you’re in a Muggle hospital under a fake name. You were doing badly, we needed to get you help. This will help you get through the worst of it. You can keep saying you’re not an addict until you’re blue in the face, but you’re going ‘round the bend just from not having your drug of choice. I know what I’m talking about, Red. So let me help,” he pleaded, as though he were begging for her life.
“I… I don’t want to be an addict,” Ginny croaked.
Draco’s eyes flooded with understanding. “None of us do, but with help you can live through it.”
“And you will help me?” Ginny asked hoarsely.
Draco nodded. “Every step of the way.”
She had promised Draco she would call him throughout the day, starting with when she woke up. So Ginny dug under her pillow for the tiny flip phone. When she had retrieved it, she went to the only number in the phone and hit call.
The phone rang and rang, and then it rang some more. Ginny was about to hang up when Draco finally answered.
“Hello?” he mumbled, sounding very much asleep.
Ginny whined into the phone, “This day already sucks.”
There was a pause and then, “Who is this?”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s Ginny. The stunningly attractive non-addict redhead you gave a cell phone to for moments such as this.”
“Oh. Sorry, I just didn’t realize you woke up at the ass crack of dawn,” he mumbled into the phone.
Ginny snorted. “I’m a Quidditch player, Malfoy. I’m used to training all day every day.”
“Yeah, I bet. Have you used yet?” he asked.
“No, but I want to,” she admitted.
Draco cleared his throat and said, “That is normal; just don’t use. If you aren’t an addict, it should be uncomfortable but not impossible to be sober.”
“And once I prove I’m not an addict?” she asked.
There was a chuckle, and Draco said, “Remember, you have to not use for a month, but if you can manage it, I’ll talk to Gwenog.”
Ginny felt stupid happy despite feeling like death warmed over. In a month she would be back to playing Quidditch; she just had to not use. It was so simple.
“You know,” Draco began softly, “You didn’t ask the most important question.”
“Which is?” Ginny asked.
There was a moment of silence followed by a sigh and more silence.
“Hello?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’m here. The most important question is what will you do if you discover you are an addict, Red,” Draco explained.
Ginny groaned loudly, “You just want me to be an addict.”
Draco’s tone was icy as he said, “Actually I don’t want anyone to be am addict. In case you forgot people die from this disease; it isn’t a joke.”
Ginny felt utterly chastised. “Malfoy, I-I’m sorry. I didn’t… I wasn’t trying to-”
“It’s fine,” Draco interrupted, saving her the embarrassment. “Just know that I take this very seriously. Right now I am fighting for your life against this drug.”
“What do I need to do to show you that you don’t need to fight for my life?” Ginny asked.
There was a yawn, and then Draco groggily replied, “Just don’t use, Red. And if you want to use, call me. I work, but I will call or text you back as soon as I possibly can.”
Malfoy worked? Ginny pictured him living off a trust fund.
“What do you do?” Ginny found herself asking, genuinely wanting to know.
“I work counseling people who have substance abuse issues. Mostly I work with Muggles, but since the war the number of witches and wizards who abuse drugs and alcohol has gone up. It is actually on a very steady rise for people around our age,” he explained.
“Oh,” was all Ginny could find to say, because she really couldn’t come out and say, ‘But you were such a judgmental and selfish asshole in school that I can’t imagine you willingly helping others.’
“Surprised?” Draco asked as though he just knew what she was thinking.
Ginny blushed as she said, “Well… yeah.”
Draco chuckled. “The Twelve Step Programs change you, if you let them. They aren’t just good for addicts, either. Anyone can become a better version of themselves by working the steps. I’ve seen it.”
Ginny smiled into the phone. “I feel like this is a plot to get me to work the steps,” she said.
Draco laughed. “No, not yet at least. You aren’t ready for the steps.”
Ginny had no response.
“Anyway, Red, I’m going to get ready for work. Call me if you need me. My advice is to keep yourself busy. Don’t sit around doing nothing. Do you know how to text?” Draco asked.
Ginny nodded, and then remembered he couldn’t see her and said, “Yes, I know how to text.”
“Okay, good. I may text instead of calling back right away, just until I can call back. But do something productive. I’ll talk to you later.”
They said goodbye and hung up, and Ginny was left with one thought: what the bloody hell was something productive?
~~~
Ginny Weasley was more than uncomfortable. She was in pain, she couldn’t stop shitting, her head ached like no tomorrow, she was sore, and the cold sweats weren’t helping to top it all off. And Ginny knew, somehow, she just knew that if she had cocaine it would all be better. Feeling like this would stop. But Gwenog Jones was going to randomly drug test her, and she was going to have to pass.
Ginny flipped open the phone and called Draco. It went almost immediately to voicemail. Ginny groaned and hung up, wanting to throw the phone across the room into the blasted wall. Breaking something might make her feel better, as it so often did. Hell, she played Quidditch to get the anger out of her. The training was intense, and it kept her drained enough that she wasn’t a holy hell as the twins had called her.
Ginny wondered if this feeling of wanting cocaine so badly that her stomach was in pain would pass. Except it wasn’t exactly painful. She just knew it was like knots twisting and releasing in her stomach. And she just knew what the solution was, and the more she thought about it, the more prevalent it became in her mind.
Was this hell? Because it surely felt like it.
The phone dinged with a text from Draco.
Breathe; I’ll call in five
Ginny wanted to cry she was so relieved. She set the phone down and stared at it, each second feeling like an eternity. When would this be over? Why was physical dependency such a bitch? And why did she feel this urge she couldn’t control?
The phone rang and Ginny grabbed it, flipping it open.
“Hello?” she said breathlessly.
Draco’s voice was calming, like waves at the beach. Ginny had been to the beach once, and she laid in the sand and let the tide come in on her. It had been the most at peace she had ever felt in her life, and Draco’s voice was like a living reminder of that time.
“You okay?” he asked.
Ginny sighed as tears formed in her eyes. She began to explain to Draco about the feeling in her stomach, and he listened silently. When she was done she felt marginally better. Maybe there was something to this calling people business.
“That… Merlin, you need to read the basic text. The Doctor’s Opinion. That isn’t physical dependency that you are describing. What you are describing is what we call the phenomena of craving, or the allergic reaction we have to a substance. You use, and then as an addict you want more. That is what you are describing. It’s the worst in the first few days of getting clean because the drug is in your system clouding your judgment,” Draco explained softly.
Ginny screeched.
“I am NOT a bloody addict!” she hollered.
“Then why are you having the reactions of an addict?” Draco asked quietly.
Ginny didn’t bother to say goodbye. She just flipped the phone shut and tossed it onto the bed next to her, tears streaming down her face. She was NOT an addict, no matter what Draco Fucking Malfoy said. And she was going to prove it. She was going to go use just a little bit and then stop. If she just weaned herself off the cocaine she wouldn’t be having these blasted problems.
Ginny Weasley was going to go get high, and all the back to back calls Draco was making didn’t matter because she was going to get up, and go get some bloody cocaine.
Except she could barely stand, and when she did stand her stomach revolted against her. She wanted to die because maybe then this hell would cease to exist. That was all this could be was hell.
As her phone rang for the sixth time she answered.
“What the fuck do you want?” she screamed.
“I want to help you. Please, let me help. I know what you’re going through,” Draco said.
Ginny began crying in earnest.
Ginny wouldn’t remember telling him where she lived. She wouldn’t remember him saying that Neville was coming to get her. But she would remember waking up in a Muggle Hospital, a needle in her arm, and Draco in the chair asleep as though he had stood vigil all night like some guardian angel.
She groaned and kicked her feet to get his attention, and Draco groggily opened his eyes.
“Hey,” he said, stretching his long limbs.
Ginny glared at him.
“Look, you’re in a Muggle hospital under a fake name. You were doing badly, we needed to get you help. This will help you get through the worst of it. You can keep saying you’re not an addict until you’re blue in the face, but you’re going ‘round the bend just from not having your drug of choice. I know what I’m talking about, Red. So let me help,” he pleaded, as though he were begging for her life.
“I… I don’t want to be an addict,” Ginny croaked.
Draco’s eyes flooded with understanding. “None of us do, but with help you can live through it.”
“And you will help me?” Ginny asked hoarsely.
Draco nodded. “Every step of the way.”
To Be Continued.
dykeadellic is the author of 8 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 1 members. Members who liked Devil's Water also liked 34 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 1 members. Members who liked Devil's Water also liked 34 other stories.
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