A/N: Thanks so much to everyone that reviewed! I love you guys very much :)

Chapter 21

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If you let them make you, they'll make you paper mache.

At a distance you're strong, until the wind comes;

Then you crumble and blow away.

-Make Yourself-

.Incubus.

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They eventually parted ways, knowing they would see each other later in their dorm.

Hermione felt conflicting feelings behind her joy, but they mostly had to do with the guilty feeling that she was somehow betraying Harry and Ron.

That's silly, her practical, somewhat stubborn side reported. He's changed. It's your job to convince them of that. You're his lifeline.

The thought comforted her for the moment, but she knew the argument would come up later. It was easier to just coast on her happiness for now—right? She couldn't worry all the time.

She was just walking through a corridor, heading upstairs to her dorm to drop off the books she didn't need, when a certain redhead accosted her.

"Hermione!" The girl was practically bouncing, and her eyes were bright and alive. "I love you so much!" She threw her arms around the girl. "Harry and I have a date for tomorrow night!"

Hermione grinned, wholly consumed by this new joy. A little part of her was a little jealous that he had recuperated so quickly…but so had she. And they both knew—well at least, she knew—that what and Harry had had was more a friendship-with-privileges than a real lust-or-love-driven relationship. "I'm so glad for you guys!" Her brain was worrying again—did she look too happy? Did she give anything away? She instantly made her voice sour. "I needed the uplift, after my little run-in with Malfoy." She knew she was sullying up his name even more now, instead of trying to smooth his reputation over with especially her house, but she couldn't have anyone find out about their relationship yet. She didn't even know if it was a relationship yet. She half expected Malfoy to return to the dorm with a girl in tow and a speech that the kiss had been a mistake.

Instead of being outraged, Ginny's face turned thoughtful, and then suspicious. Hermione felt her heart rate quicken. "Are you sure I'm the only reason you broke up with Harry?"

Hermione was relieved at the question—obviously Ginny hadn't really heard her, or something. She was still doubtful about that? Hermione almost laughed. "Of course not. I didn't feel…much with him. It was more of a brotherly love. It just felt good to be loved—now the thought of kissing Harry just seems awkward." She smiled reassuringly.

Ginny shook her head. "That's not what I mean. Is there…someone else?" She wasn't shy at all asking the question.

Hermione couldn't help the blush that spread across her face. She wasn't used to not being in control of the situation. And why was the girl so god damn intuitive? Or was she really that obvious? "I…uh…." She stuttered brilliantly.

"Yes?" Ginny prompted, obviously a little amused.

The older girl's eyes narrowed, and her voice got clear. "No, Gin. There's nobody else." She almost winced at the outright lie. But it wasn't really, right? She hadn't broken up with Harry because of Malfoy. Right?

"Tell me right now who it is, or I'll tell the whole school you've been snogging Malfoy behind their backs."

For the second time, Hermione's jaw dropped. "Then at least you'd be telling the truth," She murmured under her breath.

Ginny's eyes grew wide. "What was that?" She demanded.

Hermione squeezed her eyes tightly shut. She hadn't really meant to say that. Or she hadn't meant for Ginny to hear. Or—

"You're snogging Malfoy?" Ginny nearly shrieked.

"Ginny!" Hermione practically bellowed back. "Try not to announce it to the whole country, would you?"

"So you're admitting it, are you?" Ginny shot at her smugly, her arms folded, foot tapping.

"I…uh…." Hermione was at a loss again. How would she manipulate her way out of—

"Don't even bother, Herms. But honestly…what do you see in that ferret?"

Hermione felt an unnecessary, unexpected amount of anger rise in her at the insult. She pushed it back down, feeling that it was unwelcome and definitely not appropriate to the situation. "He's got a lot more to him than you would expect."

Ginny snorted.

"Don't judge him," Hermione advised. "You don't really know him. I don't even really know him too well. But I know he's more than what he seems."

"And how did you happen upon that gem?" Ginny asked dryly. "Was it while he was taunting you mercilessly? Or was it that one time when he tried that particularly painful hex on you?"

"Ginny!" Hermione cried exasperatedly. "He's changed. He really has. Hewants to change, at least. That's why he enlisted my help." Her voice got a little defensive towards the end.

The redhead finally had the decency to look surprised. "Your help?" Now she was definitely amused. "Like…good guy lessons?"

"Yes, exactly." Hermione agreed, smiling a little. "Anyways, what was the point of this conversation?"

Ginny ignored her. "I knew it! You'd been bashing Malfoy a bit more than usual when we talked. Or just mentioning him at all, really. I should've realized—oh! And you've been using naughty words, and making suggestive comments. Why didn't I think—" She stopped suddenly. "Herms, do you like him?"

"Well, I can forgive him easily. He's a pretty likeable—"

"That's not what I mean, and you know it." Ginny cut in smoothly. "Now, tell me. Do you like him?"

Hermione stared at the floor, flustered. She finally looked back up at Ginny, who was grinning triumphantly. "Gin…." She sighed. "We kissed."

Ginny laughed. "Well, yes, I got that from the whole announcing-you've-been-snogging-Draco-Malfoy." She hugged Hermione quickly and danced her around. "Is he good?"

Hermione looked shocked by the question, and attempted to avoid it. "Gin! Kissing once or twice hardly means been snogging. That implies that this has been an ongoing thing for a lengthy period of time."

"Don't give me that," Ginny replied cheerily. "Anyways, everyone under the age of twenty-five—guys included, I'd expect—have wondered how good, exactly, Draco Malfoy is. He's so hot!"

Hermione whacked at her friend playfully. "Okay, whatever, Ginny. Can we move on, now?"

The girl shrugged.

Suddenly, Hermione's voice grew dark. "Gin…does Harry still hate me?" It had been nagging at her—he couldn't stay mad at her, could he? She knew it hadn't been that long, but still, it bothered her.

Ginny's face was guarded, which was unnatural and out of place on her. "He doesn't hate you, Hermione."

Hermione nodded curtly in understanding. Then she sighed. "I wish he could just see it my way, you know?"

Ginny bit her lip. "Do you want me to talk to him? I mean, I kind of am the reason that you two broke up."

Hermione shook her head. "I knew I had to do it sometime." She looked a little amused, then. "Don't I remember a conversation that went along these lines?"

Ginny laughed. "I'm not joking! I'll talk to him…try to convince him to look at it from your point of view, okay?"

The brunette gave her friend a quick hug. "Thanks! Anyways, I'd better go put my books away so I can get to class on time."

Ginny nodded. "Alright, then. I'll talk to Harry…and let's plan something this weekend, okay?"

Hermione nodded, and headed off, with each stride trying to stamp out one more problem in her complicated life.

--

Evening came quicker than Hermione had anticipated. She had expected the rest of the day to drag on—when dinner arrived, she was practically jumping into the Great Hall. She astonished herself at how excited she was that classes had ended, but it was slowly becoming a pattern. She figured that her interest in her studies would come back eventually, just not now, when she had so much on her mind.

Hermione sat down at dinner, glad that she was one of the first ones there so she wouldn't have to figure out any drama with Harry. He could sit where he very well pleased—briefly she wondered if Ginny had gotten around to talking with him yet. Probably not, considering you just discussed it with her two hours ago, she admonished herself.

Ron came in first with Lavender and Seamus; Dean walked in next, followed by Luna. They covered all the spaces around her—that left no room for Harry and Ginny, really, but maybe that was better; Harry wouldn't have a chance to add to her headache.

"Guess what!" Lavender cried when everyone was seated and digging in.

Hermione had planned on listening intently to whatever she had to say, but her thoughts were suddenly pulled elsewhere—the night before, Dumbledore….

She recalled something Harry had told her a few days, a few weeks, maybe, ago; He wasn't at any of the meetings this summer, either. Hermione…no one besides you and Malfoy have seen Dumbledore in a year.

It was now mid-October, meaning that Dumbledore had been MIA for over a year—and the night before, he had chosen to see her? Had he been visiting others, too? And if so, then why not Harry? She was pretty sure that Harry would be the first one that Dumbledore would go to, or one of the first. But perhaps not, now that he wasn't tied by prophecy….

The whole thing was making her head hurt; this in itself was unusual. Usually puzzles like this made her senses sharper, refined her intuition, turned her slightly superhuman of sorts—

She changed direction abruptly. Puzzles. Puzzles. Was this one of the puzzles Dumbledore was talking about? Was he maybe being held…captive by the Prince, or whatever other evil force he had been talking about? Maybe she was supposed to figure out what was happening to him, and stop it. But she had no evidence, nothing to base anything on—what was she supposed to research, how could she stop this?

Her thoughts quickly broke when somebody's fist drove into her shoulder, not too hard but none too gently either. She blinked; it was Seamus, who was sitting next to her. "Aye, earth to Hermione?"

She made a face. "May I help you?"

"Lavender believes that you heard nothing of her exciting announcement." Seamus told her formally. "Please correct her, and tell her that you're capable of thinking brilliant thoughts and listening at the same time."
"Um." Hermione said, so intelligently. Was it just her, or was she getting…dumber? Well, not necessarily dumber, but…well…how could she describe it? She was losing her lust for school, and she could no longer multitask, or so it would seem, and the right situation wasn't making her better at figuring out problems….

"Hermione!" Lavender's shrill whine once again filled her brain. "Did you hear me?"

Hermione jumped up out of her seat. "Sorry, Lav. I just thought of something. I have to go."

She ran out of the Great Hall, knowing and not knowing her destination at the same time. It lurked in the back of her mind, and she found her feet beating their familiar path to the library. She sighed in relief—at least one thing was normal, and would always stay that way.

Upon reaching the library, Hermione found that she had somewhat run out of wonderful ideas. What should she search for first? Light? Blinding light? That made sense, because Dumbledore had warned her against getting blinded by the light. So perhaps that meant that one of those 'evil forces' was connected to some sort of light that blinded….

Frantically, she began pulling books from shelves, thrusting them down on tables and perusing. There was a sort of urgency in her that she couldn't explain, but it was starting to evolve into hysteria and she had no idea why, but it might have had something to do with losing everything that defined herself—her love of learning, her acute sense of what to do and how to do it and where to look for vital information.

She collapsed into a chair again and again, with a new book, the older the better, the thicker and dustier—and eventually she forewent the sitting down and stood and drew her finger along the ancient pages, searching for an answer, a clue, anything;

But even she knew that eventually her energy would drain out, which was something else that bothered her. When she was in this sort of intellectual frenzy, she forgot about eating and sleeping and all that—but firstly, this frenzy was more of a whirlwind and losing grip than excitement, and secondly, she was fully aware that she could barely move her body.

It was as she was sitting in the chair, trying to calm herself down, knowing she would get nowhere until she did, trying to resort her brain and get herself back, that she realized that whatever she was looking for wouldn't be in the normal library. She would have to sneak into the Restricted Section, which right now seemed like an obstacle miles high.

Perhaps a nice rest would help her. The next day was Friday, anyways, so after classes she would have the entire weekend to work on it. No need to push herself today. Besides, she should try and rejuvenate for classes, try and regain her lost interest.

The library was deserted as she emerged from behind the towering shelves. Madame Pince watched her leave, and seemingly started locking up. How late, exactly, was it? She had no idea, but she knew that she needed her bed, and soon.

The hallways were eerily quiet. The torches were still lit, but she had a strange feeling that they would go out soon. As soon as the thought crossed her minds, all the torches magically extinguished; a burst of fear rushed through her, which she wrote off as silly because she hadn't been afraid of the dark since she was a little girl, and what was the difference between this hallway in the light and in the dark anyways?

At least she had her wand. She took it out and whispered the spell, and it lit up to guide her. Her eyes stayed fixed straight ahead: the hairs were standing up on her arms and the back of her neck, and she was starting to sweat a little. Where was all this fear coming from? Where was her courage? All kinds of strange beasts began clouding her imagination, and she kept turning to glance over her shoulder.

Nothing's there, Hermione, she told herself, but she couldn't be reassured.

What was wrong with her?

Now more freaked out by herself than by the darkness, she broke out into a run, eager to fall asleep and forget this somewhat nightmarish day. She felt like she was falling apart, and that was terrible because Hermione Granger didn't fall apart. Ever. She was the support for everyone, all the time. And now was definitely not a good time to be falling apart, when Dumbledore so obviously needed her, when the world so obviously needed her.

She felt silly for being frightened when the entrance to the Heads' wing appeared in front of her. She quickly said the password and practically fell into the common room.

The room was emerald and silver—so okay, Malfoy had been here, because she had been the last one to leave this morning. The room began to change to navy blue and powder blue as she stepped further inside, and she nodded happily.

"What are you nodding about?" A gruff voice asked her. "You look like a bloody bobblehead."
Hermione couldn't help the smile that crept onto her face as she turned to look at him—he was standing on the stairway that curved up to his room.

"The room. It's so pretty." She replied truthfully, not in the mood to think up something witty.

He frowned. "What's wrong with you?"

"Something's wrong with me?" She asked innocently.

He nodded, looking thoughtful. "I don't know what, though."

She was surprised that he could tell—she hadn't expected him to be that perceptive. But then again, she hadn't expected a whole lot from him.

She really didn't want him to know, though, for some reason—she didn't want him to see that things troubled her, perhaps. Was she being prideful? Now wasn't the time to analyze her feelings. So Hermione did something she rarely, if never, did—she ran. "I'm really tired, actually. I think I'll see you in the morning, all right?"

Before he could reply, she was running up her steps, and slamming her door behind her. She stood on the other side, panting, trying really hard not to think.

She fell asleep almost instantly, surprising considering the problems rattling her brains and slowly lifting her fingers, one by one, from where she was hanging on the edge.

And there are times when I can't seem to understand at all.

And yes it seems as though I'm going nowhere really fast.