Yeah! Chapter 9!!! WooHoo! Sorry if it's a bit shorter than the others. Hope you like!

Chapter 9: "Um…what?"

Hermione sat staring at Ginny.

Her mind spun into a haze. White noise. Ginny hadn't said anything. She couldn't have said what Hermione thought she did. She had meant to say, "Draco wouldn't think twice about you". Hermione's mind nodded in hurried agreement. Yes, that was it. Nothing with Draco, entice, and you in the same sentence. It just wasn't physically possible. The universe wouldn't allow it. Somehow, Ginny would have been stopped from saying what she had, if that was what she had said.

Because there was no way in this millennium that Draco Malfoy would once consider showing off for Hermione. If that was what he had been doing, it must have been a result of some sort of delayed post-traumatic stress disorder from his families' torturing him.

Hermione! She scolded herself; he wasn't trying to charm you! So you don't have to make up excuses for him! He would sooner go bow down to Kreacher and serve him than even smile at me!

But he did smile at you, something murmured in her head.

That's completely beside the point! He was suffering from some state of dementia!

You just said that he wasn't charming you, so you didn't have to make excuses. So which is it? He was enticing you? Or…what?

Oh, shut up! Where did you come from anyway? He was probably doing what Ginny also suggested, and that's attempting to instigate a flippant reaction.

Convinced she had defeated the unknown speaker in her mind, Hermione wasn't expecting what the phantom voice said next.

Well, you did flip.

Hermione felt the blood rush from her face. Then, when it came flowing back as she recalled Draco's perfect, chiseled, Quidditch Payer's body.

"Hermione? You look like you're going to pass out. Or throw up."

Ginny shook Hermione by her shoulder.

"Um…what did you say?"

"That Draco was trying to entice you." Ginny looked like she regretted that she had said it.

Good.

"For your information, he is Draco Malfoy. Okay? Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy! The last thing he would do in this world is take his shirt off for me!"

"HE DID WHAT?"

Hermione and Ginny leapt up in horror as Edward glided into the room looking malevolent. He walked straight up to Hermione and looked her eye.

"What did that little prick do?"

Hermione stuttered a bit. "He—I, I mean, Ginny—,"

"I was just joking," Ginny quickly volunteered, "Hermione was looking depressed so I try to make her laugh at the ridiculousness that is Malfoy."

Edward turned back to Hermione, "That's it?"

Hermione nodded solemnly. "I'm still frustrated over the whole Tristan-Malfoy thing, and Ginny thought she would be funny."

Edward sighed, relieved. "That's good. If he ever tries anything like that, tell me and I'll beat the arrogance right out of him."

Hermione thought that he looked like he meant every word, especially "beat".

"I will, trust me. He's driving me insane!" She hoped Edward would believe her tone. The truth was, she didn't know how exactly he was driving her insane. There were two main directions in which someone could go insane: the frustrated route or the head-over-heels route.

Oh, God.

"All right, I suppose I'll go see what Tristan's up to," Edward decided on. "I'll see you two later." With a smile that would normally have melted Hermione's soul, Edward whisked from the room.

Hermione settled back onto her bed, rubbing her temples. "Thanks for backing me up there, Ginny."

Ginny sat down next to her. "No problem. Sorry about what I said earlier. I know it freaked you out."

Hermione laughed. "Oh, no. I'm completely fine," she sputtered sarcastically.

Ginny laughed, too. "I won't do it again, promise!"

Hermione smiled, "Thanks."

Blackness. Again. Hermione began her trek down the normally colorful, golden hallway, listening to the humming, muffled cries of despair radiating through the hall.

"Does someone need help?" she called out desperately. No one answered. At least, it didn't sound like it.

Becoming superbly irritated and nervous, Hermione sped down the hall, and rushed into the glass stairwell.

Jagged. Broken. Confused.

The stairs were littered with slivers of mean looking glass fragments. Hermione hoped the glittering red light reflecting off of each piece was merely her imagination.

She tiptoed up the stairs, dodging piece after piece. Her reflection mocked her from everywhere. The floor, the walls: thousands of pieces of her whirled passed, scared and tearful.

As she reached the door that concealed her prince, Hermione stumbled. Glass pierced the hands of her hands, and she shrieked in pain.

She stood up slowly, tears and blood trickled to the ground. She stifled her sniffling and went the open the door. It wouldn't budge.

Hermione stood, puzzled. She tried again.

Nothing.

"Hello? Is anyone in there?"

She tried banging on the door some more, jiggling the handle and pushing with all her might.

She stopped struggling with it long enough to hear a pitiful moan from within, "Hermione."

She began beating her fists on the door, screaming in claustrophobic fear. She turned then, and screeched as a dark mass crept towards her from the bottom of the stairs. Deciding to try leaping over the mass, Hermione readied herself as it reached the top.

She leapt. Tripping and falling, Hermione cascaded down the stairs and landed at the bottom, winded but alive. She glanced behind her and saw nothing. The icy air choked her, her throat constricting tightly. She flailed her limbs, her hands landing on something that thankfully felt like a wand.

"Expecto Patronum!" She shrieked loudly, praying for relief.

Nothing happened except that the suffocating grip tightened.

She tried again, but she could never get it right.

Shallow breath, and then: silence.

Hermione's eyes flew open. She was still screaming, and cold sweat clung to her body. She was thrashing hysterically, choking and gasping. She was barely aware of Ginny standing over her, trying to calm her down.

Hermione sprung towards the door, praying it would open at last and sailed through it as it gave way to a decrepit hallway. She crashed into the banister, which shook violently under her weight, but fortunately stayed put. There she crouched, huddled into a ball, shaking terribly at things unknown.

She was vaguely aware of footsteps above, rapidly moving towards the stairs.

"Hermione!" Ginny was still trying to mollify the frantic girl.

When she couldn't get a response, she ran towards the stairs, hoping to find someone to help her.

Hermione sat, rocking back and forth, muttering incoherently.

The door beside hers and Ginny's creaked open and a figure stepped out. It was blurred in her vision, familiar and unrecognizable behind her tears. It crouched in front of her.

"Granger?" a voice whispers, "Granger, what's wrong?"

"I can't find him," she whimpered frightfully.

"Shh, it's alright, Granger."

Hands gripped her gently by her upper arms and hoisted her to her feet. A steady arm draped around her shoulders and directed her to her room and sat her down on her bed.

Hermione slowly began settling down. The tears stopped and the shaking ceased against the other person's body. Warmth chased away the cold feeling in her bones and she took a deep, refreshing breath.

"Hermione!"

Harry, Ron, Tristan, Edward, Felix, Sirius, Ginny, and Molly all came crowding into the narrow bedroom, trying to see if their friend was okay.

Hermione moaned in protest, as the warm arm around her should jerked away and the presence beside her disappeared.

Felix hurried forward, "Hermione, are you okay?"

Embarrassment flooded her face at the young man's concerned tone.

Of course I'm okay! She wanted to scream, I just had a nightmare!

She wanted to scream it, but she couldn't. She was confused by her sudden hostility.

Why was she angry with her boyfriend for being upset that she was obviously terrified?

Harry and Ron crouched down in front of her.

"Hermione?" Harry took her hand, "Can you talk?"

Hermione took a shaky breath, "Nightmare," she croaked through a sore throat.

Sirius nodded in understanding and called for Kreacher to bring a glass of water. Once she had drunk her fill, Hermione tried again, "About Voldemort, is all."

Everyone murmured sympathetically. Everyone except for Ginny. She was looking at Hermione with a mystified frown tugging at her lips.

Hermione bowed her head, "I just need to get back to sleep."

Felix looked ready to protest but Ginny stopped him, "I'll keep an eye on her, it's almost morning anyway."

Once everyone agreed, they left the room.

Ginny went back to her own bed.

"Okay, Hermione, what's going on?"

"I told you," Hermione mumbled without looking up.

"No, you told them. You told them a lie. What did you really dream about?"

Ginny looked so much like a severe, worried mother; Hermione saw no choice but to tell her the truth.

"It was my prince dream."

Much like she was earlier, Ginny proved a good listener. Hermione had to stop and compose herself several times before she could go on.

When the entire story was out in the open, Ginny ran to Hermione's side and threw her arms around her distressed friend. Hermione hugged her back. Tears didn't come though. She had cried enough.

"What I don't understand," she sighed after a while, "is how I got back in here. I remember seeing you, and then you disappeared. Did you get Felix down here that fast?"

Ginny frowned.

"What?" Hermione became apprehensive.

"Hermione," she said slowly, not looking at her friend, "It wasn't Felix who calmed you down."

Hermione waited for the redhead to go on.

Ginny fidgeted a little. She then looked Hermione right in the eye. "It was Draco."