A Dangerous Game
As the night deepened, the tension between Hermione and Roland reached a boiling point. He had been watching her, seething with jealousy and a desire to reclaim her. The sight of her interacting with Snape and the Malfoys only fueled his anger.
"Mia," he called out, his voice laced with a menacing undertone.
Hermione turned, her heart pounding. She knew what was coming.
"We need to talk," Roland insisted, his eyes fixed on her.
"Not now, Roland," she replied, her voice barely a whisper.
"Now," he retorted, his tone growing harsher. "We need to talk about us."
Hermione hesitated, torn between her desire to escape and her fear of what Roland might do. She glanced at Snape and the Malfoys, who were deep in conversation, oblivious to the drama unfolding before them.
"Fine," she said, her voice barely audible. "But make it quick."
She followed Roland outside, into the cool night air. The city lights twinkled above, casting long shadows on the pavement.
"What do you want, Roland?" Hermione asked, her voice trembling.
"I want you back," he said, his eyes burning with intensity. "I want you to be mine."
"That's never going to happen," Hermione replied firmly. "I've moved on."
Roland's face darkened. "You think you can just walk away from me? After all we've been through?"
"We haven't been through anything," Hermione retorted. "You were just a toxic relationship that I was foolish enough to get involved with."
Roland lunged forward, grabbing her arm. "Don't you dare talk to me like that!" he hissed.
Hermione struggled to break free, but Roland was too strong. She could feel the fear rising within her, a fear that she hadn't experienced in years.
Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows. It was Snape, his face etched with concern.
"Let her go," Snape warned, his voice low and menacing.
Roland hesitated, his grip loosening. He knew he was outmatched. With a muttered curse, he released Hermione and stormed off into the night.
Hermione turned to Snape, her heart pounding with relief. "Thank you," she whispered.
Snape nodded, his expression unreadable. "It's best to avoid him," he said. "He's a dangerous man."
Hermione knew he was right. Roland was capable of anything, especially when he was angry or jealous. She had to be careful, to always be on guard.
As she walked back into the bar, she couldn't shake the feeling that her life had taken a dangerous turn. The line between the magical and the mundane had blurred, and the shadows of the past were creeping closer.
________________
The cool night air did little to soothe Hermione’s racing heart. A nasty bruise was already forming on her arm, a stark reminder of Roland’s aggression. As she and Severus returned to the bar, a wave of relief washed over her.
“Who was that man?” Snape asked, his voice low and dangerous.
Hermione hesitated, not knowing how to explain the situation. “Just an ex,” she replied, her voice barely a whisper.
Draco and Lucius, who had witnessed the altercation, were visibly angry. “No man should lay a hand on a woman,” Lucius growled.
“We won’t stand for it,” Draco added, his face flushed.
Hermione was touched by their concern. She had never felt so protected, so cared for.
When her shift ended, the three of them waited for her outside the bar. “We’ll take you home,” Lucius offered. “It’s not safe to be alone.”
Hermione hesitated, then nodded. As they walked to the car, she pulled a compact and lighter from her purse. She lit a delicately rolled joint, taking a long, deep drag.
The men exchanged surprised glances. Hermione, however, remained unfazed. She needed something to take the edge off, to numb the pain and fear.
Once they arrived at her flat, Severus escorted her to the door. “Here’s my number,” he said, handing her a business card. “Call me if you need anything.”
Hermione looked at him, her eyes filled with gratitude. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Snape gave her a knowing look. “Be careful, Hermione,” he said.
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Hermione alone with her thoughts. She stood there for a moment, the warmth of the joint filling her lungs. Then, she unlocked the door and stepped inside.
As she closed the door behind her, she couldn’t help but wonder what the future held. The lines between the magical and the mundane were blurring, and the stakes were higher than ever before.
Hermione locked the final deadbolt, a sense of unease settling over her. Another day, another close call. She had moved twice in the past year, each time fleeing Roland's relentless pursuit. The constant fear, the sleepless nights, had taken a toll on her mental health.
She sank into the couch, the soft cushions cushioning her weary body. Pulling out Severus's business card, she carefully entered his number into her phone. It was a small act of defiance, a gesture of hope in the face of despair.
A sigh escaped her lips as she reached for the bathroom. She needed a distraction, something to calm her frayed nerves. A well-crafted cocktail, a trusted companion in times of trouble, was just the thing.
Inside the bathroom, she rummaged through her medicine cabinet, her fingers closing around the small bottle of Xanax. A bitter smile crept across her lips. The pills had become a necessary evil, a way to quiet the storm within.
She crushed a pill, a ritual she had performed countless times. The fine powder, cut into small lines, was quickly snorted. The immediate relief was almost euphoric. The world seemed to slow down, the weight of her worries lifting.
Back in the living room, she poured herself a generous measure of rum, topping it off with cola and a cherry. The familiar warmth spread through her body, a comforting embrace. As the music filled the room, she lit another joint, the smoke curling lazily into the air.
For a moment, she was lost in the music, the drink, the drug. The world outside faded away, replaced by a serene tranquility. She was safe, she was numb, she was at peace.