By the last week in September, the majority of the school was back to normal. The only people who were still affected by the death of their classmate was the Gryffindors, who had actually known him.

As the days of September turned into the nights of October the school learned that all Hogsmeade trips were canceled until further notice. As the rest of the school grumbled audibly, Hermione was relived. er This meant the students would be safe. After the original curiosity about the attack died down, most of the students went back to treating Hermione the way they did before. The exception was Draco Malfoy. He didn't go out of his way to insult Hermione anymore, and when he did insult her—it was half-heartedly. Hermione was suspicious as to why, but didn't dwell on it.

Harry was sitting up in his dormitory, pondering the letter he had received from Dumbledore. He said his 'private lessons' would begin this evening. Harry sighed and stared at the only unused bed in the dormitory. He still felt sadness at the emptiness in the room. The empty bed was an ominous sign that something was coming. He just didn't know what.

At 8 o'clock Harry found himself in front of the gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office. He gave the password and ascended the spiral stairs that led him up to a door with a brass knocker.

He knocked.

"Come in." said Dumbledore.

Harry entered wondering just what these 'lessons' would be about.

Hermione was sitting down in the common room at one of the tables with Ginny and Dean.

They were a quite somber group, until someone interrupted them.

"So Hermione, how do you feel knowing that Seamus is dead because of you?" Ron sneered at her.

Hermione looked up at him with a blank stare. "Go to hell Ron." she uttered before staring back at the table.

"Bitch! Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

Hermione was about to retaliate but before she could, Dean stood up and blocked Ron from her view.

"You need to leave." Dean said coldly. Hermione shivered. She had never heard Dean sound so...mean.

Ron just smirked at him. "How does that make you feel Dean, knowing your best mate is dead...because of her!" he yelled pointing at Hermione.

Dean glared at him. "Seamus is dead because he chose to save someone else's life. He made a sacrifice to save someone he loved." He looked at Hermione and his expression softened. "Yes, Hermione. Loved. Seamus has loved you ever since he met you." He turned back at the fuming red head.

"How many time have you put her in danger, to have her save you? You should feel damn lucky to have her as a friend. Instead you decide to throw that all away because of something she has absolutely no control over? Some friend you are." He spat.

Ron looked at him, then at Hermione. He just shook his head and stomped away.

Dean sat back down. Hermione was staring at the table.

"Hermione?" he asked gently, putting his large hand on her shoulder. He could feel her shaking.

"He's right." she whispered. "He's right. It's all my fault."

Dean took his hand and gently lifted her chin up so she was looking at him.

"Hermione!" he said sternly. "Seamus gave up his life to save you. Your doing a piss-poor job of repaying him by sitting here moping around! Do you really think Seamus would have wanted you to do that?" she tried to turn away but Dean wouldn't let her. "You need to get your arse up and do something!" He let her go and she smiled at him.

"Thanks Dean. I think that was what I needed to hear. But how are you so calm about this?"

"I'm not, Hermione. I just handle my feelings a little better than you do."

She didn't look reassured. "Are you sure your okay?"

He grinned and patted her on the head. "It's late. Go to bed princess. You too Ginny."

"Don't call me princess!" Hermione growled, as Ginny said. "What are you my father?"

But both girls listened to him, and headed up stairs.

Dean grimaced and walked up to his room. He sat on his bed, and not for the first time, wept for his best mate.

As the days grew colder and the nights longer, Hermione found herself feeling more and more alone.

She could hardly wait for Christmas Holidays. They were still four weeks away though. She longed for the warmth and lovingness the Burrow provided. After Dean lashed out at him, Ron wasn't being so much of a problem anymore. He still occasionally glared at her but he never sought her out to degrade her.

One day, as Hermione was walking back from the library—her sanctuary—Draco Malfoy stopped her in the corridor.

"Granger?" he asked.

She sighed. She didn't have time for this right now. "What do you want Malfoy?"

He looked uncomfortable. "I-er wanted to say-er- My condolences about what happened to Finnigan."

She rolled her eyes. "Shove off Malfoy!" She pushed past him and kept walking.

He ran ahead of her and blocked her way. "I never planned on saying anything to my father! Pansy was the one who owled him. Honest!"

"And why should I believe you Malfoy?" Hermione questioned.

He shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I can't give you a good reason. After all, I've been most cruel to you. I'm only trying to say that I never meant for this to go that far. I only threatened you as a joke. I never meant for anyone to get hurt."

Hermione glared at him. "Yes, well...whether you meant it or not, Seamus is dead! And he's n-not coming b-back." She swiped angrily at her eyes. "Now, if you'll excuse me..." she pushed past him again, this time he didn't stop her.

"Be careful who you trust Granger!" he yelled after her. "Zabini isn't all he claims to be!"

In the darkness, the young man slipped through the gates of Hogwarts and out into the fresh air. He disappeared with a pop.

In the distance, a lone wolf howled to the moon eager to run. Eager to find his place in the world.

In the dungeons, Severus Snape fell into a fitful sleep, dreaming of red-hair, emerald eyes and an unforgiving green curse.

AN: Sorry it's a bit shorter than I intended, but I felt this was a good place to end it. What's up with Malfoy, and Blaise huh? Please read and review! :)