Hermione blamed it all on the apples.

Draco ignored her at lunch the entire month of September. He would walk up, take three muffins, and leave. Which was fine because she would rather eat lunch alone than with Draco Malfoy. Or, she believed as much until that green apple showed up.

For all his flaws, and there were too many to count, Draco Malfoy could be absolutely hilarious. The little things about him were most endearing. The way he would bolt down the hall to catch an escaped chocolate frog or how willing he was to make fun of his own hair. Hermione admired how he could tell the same joke to eight different people and make it just as funny to the eighth as it was to the first. Little things she never bothered to notice when he was being a right foul bastard the past seven years.

Once those apples showed up, Draco never left the table. Hermione didn't want to talk to him at first, but she felt him staring. Every time she looked up the hatred she expected to see on his face was not there. Annoyance, perhaps, but something about him was different so she gave him a chance.

Just one chance, and Draco stayed. Hermione took the apple before he arrived at lunch and he should have been upset. It was always there for him and she ate it so he couldn't. Hermione expected him to leave, to yell at her, to hex her, even. But he sat down and they talked like they were friends.

Hermione couldn't pinpoint when they became friends, exactly. Weeks passed and she started sitting next to him at dinner. Without Ron or Harry around, she didn't have many friends. There were a lot of people asking her for homework help and even more asking for an autograph, but while things were different from first year the sense of loneliness was eerily similar. Draco was going through the same thing and it was nice to have someone to be lonely with.

Neither could Hermione pinpoint when she fell for him. He was always flirtatious, so she never knew what was real and what was not. Any time she touched him, her skin tingled a bit with nerves. There was never that jolt of electricity she heard people talking about with a crush, it was just something that left her wanting more.

Hermione also liked being alone with Draco because only then did she see a hundred percent of who he was. It was difficult to pry out an honest answer when there were others within earshot. Alone, however, he wasn't afraid to speak about his life. When she pointed that out, he said,

"You have seen the worst of me. What could I possibly say to make you think less of me?"

Their almost-kiss was a mess. Draco did not shy away when Hermione put her hand on his cheek. He leaned in like he was waiting for her. Hermione felt blood rush to her cheeks and her heart beat so quickly a Snitch's wings would turn green with envy. Draco looked at her like he wanted it to happen but Hermione wasn't so sure. How could he? What had changed? She was still Muggle-born and he was still most decidedly not.

"HERMIONE!"

Neville saved the day. Hermione was ashamed at the rush of relief that went through her. She did her best to ignore Draco for a bit, focused on reworking Neville's essay. There was no way Draco liked her the way she liked him. Hermione convinced herself she imagined the whole thing.

Then Draco's face landed on the table.

Hermione turned and asked, "Draco, are you okay?" but he didn't move. She laughed nervously and put her hand on his shoulder. She shook him and repeated, "Draco?" His head tilted to one side and Hermione saw that his eyes were closed and his mouth was open in a tiny "O."

"HEADMISTRESS!" Hermione shouted. McGonagall was there immediately. There was a fuss of faculty around them, professors shouting for Madam Pomfrey. They whisked Draco off to the hospital wing, leaving Hermione in a bit of shock. He looked fine, he was breathing, and if she didn't know better she would say Draco simply chose an improper time for a nap.

As she stood to leave, Hermione noticed Draco's unfinished apple on the table.

.oOo.

Draco's parents were brought in the next morning. Hermione would not have known except she woke early to go check on him. She practically flung herself through the doors of the hospital wing to find Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy standing over their son's unconscious body. Her feet turned to lead once everyone's gaze moved to her, almost in slow motion.

They were so put-together and Hermione wondered if Draco had gotten his parents' uncanny ability to pretend everything was okay. Despite their outward appearance, Hermione knew what was happening at Malfoy Manor: the constant strategizing, debating a plea bargain, and the occasional well-placed bribe. None of that was evident in the way the Malfoys held themselves; not a single hair was out of place on either one of them. Narcissa's pale blue robes were fit for a queen and she looked the part. Lucius had dark circles beneath his eyes and his grip on his wife's shoulder was just on the wrong side of too-tight, but those were the only indications everything was not as it seemed.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he spat.

Narcissa placed a hand overtop her husband's and said, "Calm yourself, Lucius. Miss Granger was sitting next to Draco when he was poisoned."

"Did you do it?" he asked. Hermione was reminded where Draco got his trademark sneer.

"Lucius, we discussed this," Narcissa said, upset at having to repeat herself. "If Miss Granger wanted Draco dead, he would be dead."

"I would never …" Hermione said. She trailed off, glancing down at Draco's sleeping form. "Poisoned?"

"The apple Draco ate is from a rare Moonseed tree," Madam Pomfrey revealed. Hermione racked her brain for any reference to Moonseed's effects but came up short.

"Moonseed is a flower," she insisted.

"Some Moonseed trees are known to bear fruit just like a typical apple tree," Madam Pomfrey countered. "Apparently Hogwarts has sourced its apples from one of these trees, and—"

"And Draco can never resist an apple," Hermione finished. "What is wrong with him, then? How do we fix it?"

"True love's kiss," Madam Pomfrey explained. Hermione laughed aloud and all three of them looked at her like she had gone a bit mad.

"True love's kiss?" Hermione repeated. "Like in a fairytale? No, there has to be another way."

"There is not," Madam Pomfrey insisted.

"There has to be!" Hermione shouted.

"What does it matter to you, Miss Granger?" Narcissa asked. One look at her and Hermione could tell that she knew. God, it was probably written all over her face. If only she had noticed the apple in time. If only she had studied harder, knew that Moonseed apples were dangerous, then maybe she could have done something!

"It matters because I am his …" Hermione said, but stopped once she locked eyes with Lucius Malfoy. All the hatred she hadn't seen on Draco's face was reflected in his father's. Hermione looked down at the floor and said,

"Nothing. I am nothing to him."

Then she left.

.oOo.

Love is a two-way street.

Hermione went straight to the library and did not leave for two days. She found each book with a reference to Moonseed and wrote down every scintilla of information that may be relevant. What she found was less than helpful. Not only did the person who kissed Draco need to love him, but he had to love them back. Unlike what she learned from Snow White, a Moonseed curse was fatal within a week. It brought back someone's best memories, convincing them not to wake up, that life was better in their mind than the outside world could ever be. Only true love's kiss was strong enough to wake them, and even then it could be too late if the poison had spread far enough.

Not only did they have to find Draco's true love, they had to love each other enough to overcome death itself. Draco was dead the moment his lips touched that apple.

She didn't cry. No, Hermione reread everything and tried to logic her way out of this. Draco was too important to be killed by a piece of jealous fruit. Hermione was so involved in her reading that she didn't notice when someone plopped into the seat next to her.

"Granger?"

She jumped a bit in her chair then turned to see Bastien Queensbury kick his feet up onto the table. He offered her a muffin and said,

"They're his favourite."

Hermione's stomach growled the moment she smelled it. She grabbed the blueberry muffin from his hand and took a massive bite.

"Why are you here?" she asked, mid-chew.

"Because I'm the only person in Arithmancy now," Bastien replied.

Hermione swallowed and asked, "Truly, Bastien, what are you doing here?"

"I want to save my friend," he admitted. While he was a Slytherin, Bastien Queensbury was a decent person. He was clever and always up-front about his intentions, a thing very much lacking in Slytherin House. "And rumours are circling that true love's kiss is the only way to do that."

"For once, the rumours are correct, it seems," Hermione admitted. She slammed her book shut and slumped in her chair. "I have no idea what to do. There is no antidote, no loophole … Malfoy is as good as dead if we can't find the person he loves."

"Right," Bastien said. He looked at her with a curious expression on his face. "You really have no idea, do you?"

"No idea who he is in love with? Of course I don't. He never mentioned anyone."

"Right, well, for the brightest witch of our age, you are pretty dim when it comes to love, aren't you?" Bastien teased. Hermione threw her quill at him and he laughed harder.

"I thought Draco and I were friends, but—"

"But he never really learned how to love anyone the right way," Bastien said. "Draco shows affection in strange ways. Sharing food, spending time alone together, that sort of thing. And, if he really trusts you, he'll ask for help on homework. Most of the time he doesn't need it, but occasionally even the great Draco Malfoy trips himself up. So, let me know if anyone fitting that description pops up, yeah?"

Before Hermione could respond, Bastien said, "When was the last time you left the library? Have you even been to the toilets?"

"Two days, I think," Hermione admitted. "And the library has toilets."

"Really?"

"Yes, just past the Muggle Studies section."

"That explains it," Bastien said. He stood from his chair and turned to leave. He shouted over his shoulder, "Four days, Granger!"

.oOo.

Hermione returned to class on day five. She absorbed none of the lessons, though her attendance in Defense Against the Dark Arts really was more of a formality. On her way back to the Gryffindor common room, she overheard a conversation that incensed Hermione to her very core.

"It has to be a fifth year and up. Only they know him well enough to be his true love."

"What if it's too late?"

"I heard Astoria snuck into the hospital wing with Pamela Alton last night to try."

"Dammit, I bet two Galleons on Greengrass!"

"What does that make, thirty-seven now that have tried and failed?"

"Thirty-nine."

Hermione rounded on the group of thirteen-year-old Hufflepuffs in the middle of the corridor.

"What are you talking about?" she whisper-shouted. "Are people sneaking into the hospital wing to snog Draco?!"

"How else are we going to find out who it is?" one of them asked.

"After you tried, everyone else thought it was fair game."

"I never kissed him," Hermione said, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"But … Everyone heard …"

"That's why you hid in the library for so long, because it didn't work."

"No! I was trying to find another antidote to Moonseed!" Hermione shouted, not bothering to lower her voice this time. "Are you telling me people believe I snogged him?"

"Someone saw you run out of the hospital wing—"

"Because his parents were there!" Hermione revealed.

"Everyone thought you kissed him and he didn't wake up," the youngest girl said. "Now people sneak in to try. They say his lips are chapped now."

"Well after thirty-nine people trying to give him the snog of his life I wonder why!" Hermione spat. "Why is this about me, anyway?"

They all laughed in lieu of an answer. When they realized it was a legitimate question, the four girls' expressions changed into various degrees of disbelief.

"You sit at our table!"

"We see the way you two look at each other."

"Everyone sees it."

"Do you remember that day they both reached for the apple?! I thought they were about to shag on the table!"

Hermione stormed off and set up camp in the hospital wing next to Draco's bed. Madam Pomfrey agreed to stay during dinner and Hermione returned to take the night shift. She caught three students trying to sneak in. When they saw her, she lifted her wand and said,

"Get the hell out before I turn you into spoons."

.oOo.

Hermione cornered Luna outside the Ravenclaw common room on day number six.

"You need to kiss Draco," she insisted.

Luna chuckled lightly and asked, "Why would you say such a silly thing?"

"You are his friend," Hermione replied.

"So are you," Luna countered. She offered Hermione a copy of that month's Quibbler, and Hermione accepted.

"But you haven't tried yet and he is running out of time," Hermione said. She wiped away the water building up in the corners of her eyes. Luna smiled at her, a little sad.

"I could say the same of you."

"Draco could never love me," Hermione admitted. "But you were kind to him, you forgave him, and maybe that is enough."

Luna smiled and took Hermione's hand. She led her into the common room, then up the stairs into the seventh-year girls' dormitory. Luna walked over to her bed and pointed to a photograph on her nightstand. In it was a younger version of her father, along with a woman who looked very much like Luna. They were dancing in a garden and the woman was wearing radish earrings.

"Are those your parents?" Hermione asked. Luna nodded.

"My dad was always outspoken about love, you see, very loud. People say they could see his heart in his eyes when my mum entered a room. He says he knew he loved my mum from the moment he saw her. Some people scream when they're in love, you know, like a Snarfalump. They will wrap you up in their tentacles and shout how amazing their lover is and not let you go until you believe them."

"I can certainly see your father doing that," Hermione quipped. Luna did not notice the insulting tone.

"Mum was different. She died when I was six, but what I remember is wonderful. Her love was quieter. She spoke about my dad like he was exactly what she needed in life. Like he was her balance. Her affection was silent and mostly unseen, but always there. Like Nargles."

"Like Nargles," Hermione repeated with a smile.

"There are different sorts of love," Luna insisted, not taking her eyes from the photo. "Some people are loud, some are quiet, and there are so many places in between. Draco is a screamer, maybe not with his words but with his actions. Everyone knows who he loves best, probably before he realized it himself. He can be a bit slow when the answer isn't one he wants to hear."

"Everyone seems to think he is in love with me," Hermione said. "But that can't be true."

"Maybe it isn't what he is shouting out to the world. Perhaps you should think about what he isn't saying. What you don't hear anymore."

Mudblood.

They stood, watching Luna's parents dance for another minute before Hermione gave her a hug.

"Never change, Luna," she whispered.

.oOo.

Hermione spent that evening sobbing into her pillow.

This was too similar to losing Harry. As if seeing those black hoods in her nightmares wasn't enough, Hogwarts just had to keep taking people away from her. She avoided the corridor where they found Lavender Brown's body. There were still bloodstains on the walls and suits of armor that were missing arms, reminders of all the carnage lurking around every corner.

But unlike that day seven months earlier, there was one thing Hermione could do to save Draco. While her doubts ran deep, what sort of friend would she be if she didn't try? It was day number seven and Hermione couldn't watch another friend die. She just couldn't.

Hermione cast a Disillusionment spell on herself. It wasn't perfect, but it would do. No one would oblige her this if she was caught. Hermione silently made her way out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and out through the portrait hole. The dark halls of Hogwarts no longer frightened her. The things seen in the light brought back memories far more terrifying than anything she could conjure up on her own. She blessedly managed to get to the hospital wing without running into anyone. Madam Pomfrey was in bed and the sun was only just beginning to peek above the horizon. Hermione trudged slowly over to the near-lifeless form.

Death was a horrible look on Draco.

Hermione hadn't noticed how much he smiled until he couldn't anymore. His hair hung limp in several different directions and his lips were chapped from thirty-nine kisses he didn't ask for. He was still in his jumper from their walk the Saturday before, his face slack with a heavy pallor. Hermione took a deep breath and wiped away some escaping tears.

No matter what Luna said, no matter what anyone believed, Hermione knew Draco didn't love her. How could he? Their friendship was too new for that. Plus, the look on Lucius Malfoy's face confirmed what Hermione already knew: there was no room for her in Draco's life after Hogwarts.

Hermione sat on the edge of Draco's bed. She took a deep breath and said,

"You were right, I like you very much. If this works, I promise I will never eat your apples again. Just … come back, Draco," Hermione said, her voice cracking on his name. "I need a friend and you're it. Merlin on high, I really should have done this a week ago."

She leaned forward and lightly pressed her lips against his. Hermione's chest seized up because she knew it was wrong but couldn't immediately pull herself away. She threaded her fingers through Draco's hair to pull him closer, just for a moment. Hermione pulled back a few centimetres and jumped back when Draco opened his eyes.

He blinked.

He blinked again and took a large gasp of air. Draco coughed when he was unable to hold it down, loud enough to wake Madam Pomfrey, who came running out of her room. Draco sat up on his elbows, blinking wildly and asking,

"Where the bloody hell am I?"

Madam Pomfrey assured Draco he was in the hospital wing and that he was safe. He waved her off and sat upright. Draco looked directly at Hermione though she was mostly invisible. If Hermione didn't know any better, she would have believed that Draco knew she was there and knew what she had done. She did the only thing she could think to do:

Hermione ran back to the common room as quickly as her feet would take her.