DISCLAIMER: Here's the only disclaimer I'll be posting, for the entire story: Harry Potter Universe? Not mine. If you recognize it? Not mine.

The Beginning

I've never met a strong person with an easy past. - Atticus

She was awake. Of all the rotten luck - petrification was supposed to turn one to stone! Hermione fumed silently, not that there was another way she could fume, honestly. Her eyes, stuck open, could only see the one area they were fixed upon. When various body parts of her few visitors passed before her shocked face, she had a blessed change of scenery. Otherwise she drifted in and out of consciousness, aware of time passing, but only just. She was unable to move, and only alert when movement crossed her line of vision.

Hell. She was in hell.

Hermione smoothed the page she discovered in her book bag. At first, she was unsettled. The page was obviously torn from a book. Soon, she was staring at the page in horror, not caring one whit about an abused tome. There was a basilisk at the school. Somebody knew and rather than say anything about it they slipped a crinkled piece of parchment into her book bag. She wasn't even sure how long it had resided in her bag. Raising said bag to the table, Hermione unceremoniously swept her things in. Glancing once more at the page in her hand, she crumpled the parchment and strode to the only other student in the library.

"Hello, do you happen to have a mirror on you?"

It took her frozen eyes a few moments to adjust to the pale face staring down at her.

"I'm glad you were only petrified," he was saying. "I couldn't think of a real way to warn you. Not one that you would take seriously. Especially after that incident at the quidditch pitch. And, well," he mumbled something about his Father and proper behavior. "He has ways of knowing if I don't. Mother says not to ever break character." He rubbed his hands through his hair and his tone grew agitated. "But I managed to sneak away for a bit and since you're petrified and can't actually hear me I can apologize. You won't actually hear it, right? So there's no chance that my father will know." He pursed his pale lips and drew in a fortifying breath. Then softly, so softly she almost missed it, he whispered, "I'm sorry about the way I have to treat you." He was staring directly into her shocked eyes. "Don't look so surprised," he joked weakly. Then he frowned. "That was stupid, sorry."

"Really though, I'm sorry, I can't break character. I have to maintain that image that father expects and you are a high-profile target according to mother. I don't really believe it, that blood stuff. I don't like bullying people, but I'm not old enough to stand up to him. Someday, maybe when mother and I are both safe, I can apologize for real." A gusty sigh. "You know, when you can actually hear me."

His eyes shifted toward the floor, then back up to her face. He swore, "I've been away too long! Granger I swear if I get in trouble for apologizing to your statue - "

She didn't hear the rest of his threat, only his retreating footsteps shuffling quickly away from her and out of the hospital wing.
Well that was a strange hallucination, she thought to herself. She must be terribly bored to have dreamt of Malfoy of all people. How much time had passed anyway?

Hermione spent her next block of mostly-consciousness debating whether or not petrified basilisk victims were actually stone. If they remained, would time wear them down like stone? But how could she be stone if she could still think? Her lungs were not working, nor any other bodily functions. So why was her brain?

Returning from summer break was harder than she'd ever admit to Ron and Harry. Part of it was her parents. But the bigger problem was honestly her. They were worried she was in danger. She knew she was, but couldn't - wouldn't - tell them. She had to go back. And to go back to her magical school she had to be dishonest with her non magical parents.

The other problem was Draco Malfoy.

Right before she was restored from her statuesque state she had one final visit from Draco Malfoy. He'd apologized one last time, then staring straight ahead he admitted quietly, "I know you can hear me."

If she could have, she might have gasped. Or blinked. Instead she continued staring at his pointed chin.

Draco decided to tell Granger what he learned. After he'd read that book he knew a confrontation was necessary. Better to do it when she couldn't yell back.

"I was reading about petrified people. The potion, actually, to cure it. Snape had Obscure Potions for Unfortunate Situations in his office when I went by to…" Draco knew his voice was becoming more clipped and precise, he could thank his tutor for that. The posh accent was enforced before he came to school, but as soon as he was away from home he shrugged it off like a jumper his mother forced upon him before he went out to play. It, being more natural to him than the accent he affected at school, became more pronounced when he was stressed, but he couldn't stop it. "In chapter seven there was an account of a man who spent seven months petrified."

Much to Draco's horror, the man had been conscious the entire period. Taking care to avoid suspicion, Draco tore through the library for any similar stories. To his consternation, only some petrification victims remained conscious.

After a time, Draco noticed a pattern. Those who remained in an awake state during their petrification knew what they were facing, and were generally quite clever. He explained this to the motionless Granger.

"I know you found the page." He indicated her hand, still holding the crumpled parchment, before realizing that his movement was likely out of her range of vision.

"I," he hesitated, hating what he had to say, "I know you heard me last time. Do not expect me to treat you any differently. If my father gets any hint of me not following his footsteps. Well, it is not a risk I am willing to take." Draco finally looked at Granger's face.
"We are not friends." He thought maybe they could have been friends, under different circumstances. There was, however, no point in considering that. "I cannot be nice to you. I will not. I just wanted to warn you. It will only get worse. And I am… Well this is the last time you will hear me say it so I hope you are actually awake. I'm sorry." Having said all he meant to, Draco shuffled a little awkwardly.

"Also, I read that recovering from petrification is painful, so good luck. Uhm, see you."

And with that, Draco slipped out of the infirmary.

As a matter of fact, turning from a statue back into a human with functions organs had been incredibly painful. Fortunately, the pain had been brief. Hermione was grateful for the warning, even if it was imparted to her by Malfoy.

Now that she was headed back to Hogwarts, and armed with the information she had, she wondered what to tell her friends. Draco Malfoy wasn't the worst human? No. She never indicated that she heard anything anyone said to her while petrified. As soon as they were able to respond to queries, Madam Pomfrey asked if they had been aware during their time in the hospital wing. Following everyone else's lead, Hermione carefully schooled her features into that of confusion. She'd continued to lie to everyone else.

It had been incredibly difficult to not look at Draco Malfoy differently, but she tried her best. Judging by the subtle glances of confusion from Malfoy, she was successful.

A/N: Hey guys, uh... LL Here.
I welcome reviews, I'm posting on this website for a couple reasons, one of them being to work on my writing style, which I desperately need to develop. Please be nice! The other reason is to entertain. I love fanfiction. So... please review (if you want).
I don't have this story entirely mapped out, but it's likely to be small chapters, snapshots up until the 7th year. Probably ending a year or two after that. I don't anticipate it being a long story. My goal is to post regularly, once a week. But we'll see, I'm new at this.
ta-ta!

LL