Chapter 4

"Hello?"

Hermione's head snapped up. She had definitely heard a voice.

"This is ridiculous…hey, mudblood, you here still?"

Her voice was raw from crying out. She managed to croak, "Yeah…yes! Here, I'm over here, on the wall!"

"W…what? On the…oh, you have got to be kidding me!" Draco Malfoy appeared in front of her. Hermione was standing further back in her cage, so he looked huge to her.

It shouldn't have made sense; in real life, perspective doesn't work quite that way. But in this painting world, if she were to step forward enough so only her head showed in the frame, she would feel just as big as him. Very disorienting.

She felt like freaking thumbellina currently, though.

Draco Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Who in their right mind would paint you? And who would put you down here in the dungeons? Someone has a sick sense of humor…"

He was turning away, walking back the way he came!

"Wait! Please, wait! I'm not a painting! I swear!" She started to cry again. She felt so numb…she hated it here! And Malfoy had disappeared from her limited view.

"P…please…" She managed to get out through her sobs.

A moment later he was backing up into her view-frame again, looking exasperated.

He sighed. "Why in the hell would you be telling people that? Do you say that to everyone who comes by here?"

"No one comes by here…I mean, it's true! I'm not a painting! Ok, maybe I'm in a painting, but I'm really Hermione Granger!" She stepped forward, putting herself close enough that she didn't feel quite as tiny.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "And why should I believe this? No, this is stupid. I know it's not true. I'm out of here."

And with that he left, seeming angry with himself for even bothering to come down here in the first pace.

"Wait! Wait! Come back! Bring help! Don't…don't go…"

But it was too late.

She was trapped, and the only person who had any knowledge of the fact was Draco Malfoy.

And he didn't believe her.

Even if he believed her, he probably would just leave her to rot.

She was screwed.

***

Harry sat on his bad cross-legged, facing Ron.

"So…how exactly was she acting "weird?" Ron asked, his long lanky legs hanging over the edge of his four-poster.

"er…well, she didn't do her homework, for one…"

"Uh, huh…" Ron agreed, looking suspicious.

Harry sighed. He hoped Ron wouldn't do his usual thing and freak out. "She also…kinda…jumped me."

"What do you mean?" Ron faked ignorance in his voice…probably hoped he had heard wrong. His voice going up at the end of the sentence gave him away, though.

Harry winced. Yeah, Ron would freak out. "She was acting kinda creepy…trying to kiss me, and stuff."

"And stuff?!"

"Ron, she's sick, ok? She'll probably be embarrassed as hell when she gets back to herself. Let's just forget it, ok? She's spending the night at Madam Pomfrey's."

"What did she find wrong with her? A love potion?" Ron still sounded a bit annoyed, but worry overpowered his jealousy.

Hmmm…what could Harry say? "She…didn't find anything wrong. But I still think there is! I know there is! I mean, of course, right? Hahaha. Hermione, acting like that…It's weird!" Harry tried very hard not to sound nervous, but Ron's face was darkening.

"Right. Whatever. Just another girl for the famous Harry Potter. Good night." And with that, Ron flipped over and under his covers, leaving his back to Harry.

Harry's mouth fell open. He had no way to answer that. He was hurt; how could his best friend act like that? Ron knew perfectly well that Harry didn't relish his fame! Harry didn't want any of the girls that threw themselves his way…he just wanted one specific girl…and that one would piss off Ron, too.

He sighed, took off his glasses, and went to bed.

***

Draco Malfoy swaggered onto the Quidditch field, Crabbe and Goyle in tow. There were students here and there, leaning against the walls of the Slytherin locker room.

There were a few shadows moving about the posts that held up the stadium, too. Students who wanted a bit more privacy. Draco rolled his eyes. Very private. Classy, guys. Classy.

A bit of light could be seen from the open doorway, but no music could be heard until Draco moved into the room itself. Only then did the music wash over him in a thundering wave. Slytherins were definitely good at hiding their parties.

Crabbe and Goyle moved silently over to the food, of course, as Nott came over and handed Draco a bit of firewhisky.

Draco went through the motions, talking with people, drinking…a few girls asked to dance with him, and he obliged.

All in all, the night felt like a total bust to him. He just wasn't interested in the party.

Why?

Through his buzz he felt an answer coming into his head.

Guilt?

No, why would he feel bad? About Granger? That wouldn't make sense….

But he remembered her crying…suppose it actually was her?

So what if it was! She was only getting what she deserved, mudblood showoff…

He took a swig from his glass, willing himself to not be bored. Willing himself to forget about that damn tiny girl in the painting.

***

Hermione pulled back the covers from her bed. The warm, soft fabric…

She felt the cold floor on her bare feet. Even that was nice.

The light in Madam Pomfrey's office had gone out a while ago, so Hermione assumed it was safe to sneak out now.

She only had on her sleeping gown…no shoes. But she didn't mind; it was warm enough out.

She headed down the cool stone steps. She wanted to explore; she couldn't waste time sleeping!

She tiptoed, aware that the professors were always patrolling. Couldn't run into Snape; that would be trouble. She managed to make it outside unseen.

She took a deep breath of the cool night air, feeling it fill her lungs.

She walked on, feeling the grass between her toes.

Feeling the light breeze.

She was lost in it all, just feeling.