'Come on, Hermione, please! If you're not going to open the door, will you at least let me know you're okay?' Harry desperately banged on the Head Dorm's portrait hole for the umpteenth time.

'For the last time, will you stop it?' shrieked the old bat in the portrait, clinging to her wildly rocking rocking chair for dear life. 'She doesn't want to speak to you! Now sod off. You've given me a headache.'

Harry glared at the old woman, but he had to concede defeat. He slumped off down the hall.

'Any luck?' asked Neville, who was waiting nearby with Parvati.

'Nope,' said Harry despondently. 'The portrait's a stubborn old coot, too.'

'Gods, what a mess,' sighed Parvati.

'How's Ginny?' asked Harry carefully.

'Like a tap with a permanent leak.'

'Was she really taking sex lessons from Malfoy?' Neville's face was a picture.

'Don't you think about taking any,' Parvati retorted. 'You don't need to.'

Harry smirked at Neville's blush.

'M-maybe we could find Blaise and get him to let us in?' asked Neville.

'He's probably in detention.'

'True.'

Harry pulled out his wand. 'Let's see if this works.'

He conjured his Patronus.

Hermione heard the insistent banging on the door, but she was in the bath, so she couldn't get out. Never mind that the water was now stone-cold and only came up to a quarter of the tub's volume.

She sat in the middle of the bath with her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped tight around them. Her once-wet hair floated around her in lank strings. Tears pooled over her knees and trickled down her shins. Her lips, if she could see them, were purple from the cold.

She couldn't think right now.

The pain was too raw.

Normally, the sight of a stag, real or non, trotting into one's bathroom would usually be cause for surprise at the very least, but Hermione couldn't even manage a raised eyebrow. Still. It was here; she should probably listen.

'Hermione,' said Harry's worried voice. 'I know you're hurt. I can't even begin to understand how you must feel right now, but I'm worried about you, and I need to know if you're all right. It's okay if you don't want to talk. But please get a message to tell me you're okay so I can stop panicking, yeah? Please take care.'

The stag bowed to her, then disappeared.

That was nice of Harry. She'll send a Patronus back to him.

When she's finished her bath.

Blaise shoved open the portrait hole, ignoring the simpering old bat that was trying to get his attention. He and the Weasel spent the past few hours polishing a million pieces of cutlery in the kitchen, under the fretful supervision of the house-elves. At least that job was just mind-numbingly boring. Tomorrow, they had to clean out the fucking Owlery. By hand.

Staring at his distorted reflection in an unending number of knives and spoons gave him the time to think. Gave the Weasel time to think, too. And together, they thought of a plan.

Blaise's face hardened when he thought of it.

He shuffled up the stairs. He really wanted a shower. Just the thought of those bloody owls made him feel grubby. He opened the bathroom door and turned the light on.

'Fucking hell! Hermione!'

He raced to the bath and hauled the pale, cold, unresponsive girl out of the water. Grabbing as many towels as possible with his spare hand, he raced to her bedroom and laid her on the bed.

He leapt onto the bed and rubbed Hermione's lower body briskly with the towels. 'What the fuck, Hermione?' he yelled. 'What the hell did you think you were doing?'

Her eyelids shimmered, but she didn't wake.

'Fuck, fuck fuck!' Blaise was very close to a full-on panic. Now her skin was dry, he wrenched open the sheets to her bed and tucked her in. Salazar's tits, her lips were blue. He pulled out his wand and cast every warming charm he could think of. They provided a little relief, but there was so much of her that was cold.

He took a deep breath in and slowly let it out.

He pulled off his tie.

Hermione felt she was at the bottom of a lake. Reeds and weeds slithered silently in the water. She knew which way was up; she could see the pale light above that indicated the sky. She just had to get there.

Her arms and legs were sluggish, though. She had to work really hard to make her way. She started getting warm from all the effort. How silly! She's at the bottom of a lake. But she can breathe. She tried it. No air bubbles formed, but she was breathing.

This is very strange. What will she find when she breaches the surface?

Hermione broke through.

She opened her eyes and found herself in her bed. She was lying on her side and felt deliciously warm, for all that she was naked.

Her arm was holding something warm. It was soft and hard at the same time. It was wrapped across her breasts. She looked down. It was another arm.

Draco? she thought joyfully – before she remembered.

Besides. The skin on this arm was dark chocolate.

Oh!

The rest of her body prickled into life. Now she was acutely conscious of the warm, hard and smooth body pressed up against her.

What the bloody hell?

This is a logic problem, Granger. Let's review the facts.

She's in her bed, nude, with an equally nude Blaise Zabini, with his body pressed up against hers.

The last thing she remembered was sitting in the bath. Not thinking. She felt cold, but had no energy to get out, or even turn the hot water on.

Now, the presumptions:

She fell asleep.

Then fear gripped her. Or maybe she fell unconscious.

Blaise came back from detention and found her unresponsive in the bath, and used his body heat to raise her core body temperature.

Oh, my gods, she thought tearfully. I nearly died, and Blaise saved my life.

Theo leaned against the railing that ran around the circumference of the Astronomy Tower platform. The lake, far below him, looked like a serpentine sheet of silver glass.

He glanced at his hands. He'd scrubbed them free of Draco's blood. But they were still shaking.

He'd watched, along with the rest of the school, what happened when Draco and Hermione spoke; and when she ran away. He'd known Draco for many years, and he'd never seen his friend look so desolate before.

Now it was his turn to face the music.

He glanced out over the serene countryside again. The tower was a long way up.

It was also a long way down.

'Theo?'

He turned and smiled as best he could when Lavender appeared on the platform. She was trembling from the cold, and Theo crossed the floor to wrap her in his own robe. He kissed her cold lips.

'Why did you want to meet here?' she asked, curious. 'Uh – we're not going to have sex here, right?'

Theo laughed, despite himself. 'I think it's too cold for anything to work up here. I wanted space and privacy, and I figured this place would be the last resort for most to sneak off to.'

'Okay.' She looked up at him. 'It's a bad thing you want to say, isn't it?'

Theo rested his head on her curls. 'Yeah. I'm sorry.'

There was a silence, before Lavender said stiffly 'Will you at least tell me why?'

Theo was a little confused. 'Um, why what?'

She struggled out of his embrace. 'Why you're breaking up with me!' Her voice cracked, and she whirled away from him.

'What? No! Gods, no! I don't want to break up with you! I love – oh, gods' – Theo grasped Lavender by the shoulders and pulled her around to face him. Her lips were trembling and tears spiked her lashes. He leaned down so their faces were level. 'I love you, Lavender. You're the best, most beautiful, most precious thing in my life. I don't want to break up with you. I'll never want to leave you.'

He trailed off, and leaned his forehead against hers. 'Please don't cry,' he whispered.

'You love me?'

'Yeah. A lot. I should have said it earlier' –

Lavender cupped his face her hands. 'I love you too, Theo Nott.' She kissed him with intensity, daring him to kiss her back just as hard.

After a little while, Lavender dried her eyes and blew her nose. 'I'm sorry I over-reacted before you had even said what you were going to say,' she admitted a little sheepishly.

Theo shook his head. 'Just a little misunderstanding with a happy outcome,' he said lightly.

She giggled, and tried to snuggle in to him. But he kept her at arm's pace.

'I have to tell you this thing, love,' he said desperately. 'I have to get it off my chest.'

Sobering, she nodded and stared at him solemnly. 'Go.'

Right. Where to start? Theo swallowed. 'This involves Draco,' he said softly.

He gulped when her pretty features froze with disapproval.

'Draco wanted me to get some information to help him convince Hermione to go out with him.' Okay, maybe that wasn't one hundred percent the truth, but it was at least eighty-five percent, surely? 'He asked me to speak to her friends. I chose you.'

Lavender stood as still as stone. Her eyes bored into his.

'I deliberately bumped into you that day when you were late for Muggle Studies,' he confessed wretchedly. 'But when we met in the Transfiguration classroom, and I got to know you, I liked you. A lot. I had liked you for a while. I didn't lie about that. And when we were in the Boathouse together, I wasn't there because of Draco. I was there because I wanted to be with you.

'My feelings for you have never been a lie, Lavender. I should have asked you straight out if you could help me, or kept Draco's sordid plans away from us. I'm so desperately, incredibly, sorry.'

Theo's throat clogged with something, and he couldn't speak any more.

Lavender slowly let out a breath. 'Did you get the information Malfoy wanted?'

Theo looked at the ground and nodded.

'Did you give the information to him?' she whispered.

Another nod.

'Did this morning's events have something to do with that information?'

Theo looked up at her. His face was tense and white. He nodded tersely.

'Are you sorry for deceiving me, or for indirectly hurting all those people?'

'Both! Lavender, you know me.'

'You're a Slytherin,' she spat. 'Maybe I don't know you at all.'

He felt the blow.

After a silence, he couldn't stand it anymore. 'What happens now?' he asked. 'With us?'

Lavender swallowed and looked away. 'I don't know,' she admitted. 'I need to think.'

She backed away and headed to the exit, leaving Theo in the middle of the platform, bereft.

'I love you,' he whispered.

By a miracle, she heard him. 'I know,' she said around the lump in her throat. 'I think I still love you. But I have to think about whether I can forgive you.'

He nodded, and she left him.

He clutched his hair in his hands and roared 'Fuck!' so loudly that the owls in the Owlery Tower fertilised the floor in fright.

Hermione carefully turned around in Blaise's arms, but the motion woke him.

'Shit! I feel asleep,' he muttered to himself. Then he realised that Hermione had moved. He reached for his wand with his spare hand and cast a Lumos. She was awake, exhausted still, and with unshed tears glittering in her eyes.

'Omigod, you're awake!' Blaise exhaled in relief. Then his eyes turned stormy. 'Merlin's bloody tits, woman, do you have any idea how much you scared me?' He gathered Hermione into his arms and crushed her to his body.

'I'm sorry, Blaise,' she whispered in his embrace. 'I didn't mean to scare you, I'm so sorry.'

She felt even worse when he started to cry.

Blaise wiped his eyes and smiled sheepishly. 'I'm all right now. I think it was just the relief.'

He was lying on his back, and Hermione had curled into his side beneath his arm.

He sighed. 'What a bloody awful day.'

She snorted.

'I had no idea you were with Malfoy. I'm sorry, by the way.'

She waved a hand. 'Nothing to do you with you.' She twisted around, and looked up at his face. 'I still have trouble comprehending what on earth Ginny was thinking. Now it's my turn to say sorry to you.'

He huffed a laugh. 'Nothing to do with you. We're the wronged parties here.'

'Guess so.'

'Do you think you'll forgive Malfoy? Take him back?'

Here it was. The questions Hermione had been trying to avoid all day. 'I don't know,' she said softly. 'I should probably cut my losses and dump his skinny white arse, but when you put those questions to me just now, the word 'no' just didn't sound right. I think I'm too angry to make a considered decision right now,' she added. 'Not to mention humiliated.'

'Stop that.' She looked up at Blaise and found that his face was serious. 'You and I did nothing wrong. It just sucks that people, being people, will pity us or laugh at us but that just reveals more about them than it does about us. Or something like that.' He sighed. 'I don't know.'

'Me neither.' But that the moment, something more pressing needed to be discussed. 'Blaise?'

'Yep?'

'We're – well, naked. In this bed.'

'This is true.'

'What happens now?' she asked bravely.

Blaise's eyes glittered. 'What do you want to happen?'

'Are you seriously answering my question with a question?'

He grinned lopsidedly. 'Hey. Slytherin.'

She rolled her eyes.

'All right,' he laughed. Settling, he looked at her and traced a finger along her jawline. 'It's clear to most blokes in this school that you're a beautiful young woman,' he murmured.

Hermione gulped. 'It would also be true to say that most girls think you're very attractive.' And she could now attest. She'd not seen everything he had on display, but the bits she did see were considerably… yummy.

'Then I propose an experiment.'

Hermione's ears pricked up. 'Oh, yes?'

'I propose that we try one thing, evaluate the response, and determine what steps to take from there.'

This man knows my language, Hermione marvelled. 'What's the thing?'

'This,' said Blaise, and kissed her.

It was a considered kiss. A kiss that was of the appropriate length to determine future strategy. His lips were soft and warm, and he traced the outline of her mouth before drawing each one into his mouth.

When his tongue touched her lips, she opened them and let him in. She did the same with his mouth. In all, it was a thorough examination – warm, rather than passionate.

Because there was no passion to be found.

They pulled apart gently, and looked at each other with equal regret and relief.

'Friends?' he whispered.

'Friends,' she affirmed, and hugged him.

'Y-you wanted to see me, Professor Dumbledore?' Ginny asked, quaking at the knees at the entrance to his office.

'Ah, yes, Miss Weasley. Come in, please do.' He bestowed a kindly smile on her and waved her to a chair opposite his desk. Professor McGonagall stood nearby, looking Sphinx-like.

After he offered her a sherbet lemon (which she politely accepted) and enquired as to how she was now feeling, Dumbledore picked up a letter off his desk. Squinting at it, he remembered to put on his half-moon glasses and squinted at the letter again.

'Now, my dear, I've had a letter from your parents.'

The bottom dropped out of Ginny's world.

'It seems they received an almost indecipherable Howler from Mr Weasley. Ronald, that is.'

Ginny looked at Professor McGonagall in despair. She pursed her lips together.

'After studying it for some time, they received the impression that your life was in mortal danger, and so naturally they communicated with me right away.'

'Naturally,' Ginny agreed faintly.

'I quickly dissuaded them of the notion that you were any physical danger, much to their relief. But as to the reason for Mr Weasley's communique, I'm afraid, my dear, that I had to inform them of the recent unhappy events.' Professor Dumbledore's cheeks turned pink. 'Rather, Professor McGonagall informed them on my behalf.'

Ginny stole another look at Professor McGonagall, who rolled her eyes briefly.

'What did they say, sir?' Ginny asked tremulously.

Dumbledore and McGonagall exchanged glances. 'They want you to go home, dear,' he said kindly.

'No!' she croaked tearfully, gripping the armrests of her chair with white fingers.

The Professors looked at her sadly. 'We agree that it's probably best if you have a break from Hogwarts,' McGonagall added gently. 'What's done is done, and as to who's in the right or wrong, you cannot deny that you've had a terrible shock, and your once-strong circle of friends is divided right now. We do think it would be best if you spent the remainder of this school year away, and return for your final year next September.'

When the other key players in this shit-show won't be here. It didn't need to be said.

'You can't send me home!' Ginny wailed. 'I haven't finished the academic year! I still have exams to sit! And-and what about my position on the Gryffindor team?'

'Yes, we are concerned that spending the remainder of the year at home will put you behind in your schooling,' acknowledged Professor Dumbledore. 'Therefore, Minerva and I put an alternative proposal to your parents. They were happy for you choose the one you would prefer.'

Ginny wiped her eyes. 'What's the alternative, sir?' she asked without much hope.

'We have been in discussions with Professor Karkaroff of the Durmstrang Institute, and he would be pleased to host you for the remainder of the academic year at his facility. If you wish to go, that is.'

'Durmstrang?' said Ginny faintly. 'Do girls go there?'

'I believe there are a few,' replied Dumbledore with a wink. 'Professor Karkaroff has heard of your talent in Quidditch, and is most interested in watching you play. But it's entirely up to you, you understand.'

'Can my parents afford Durmstrang?' Ginny asked hesitantly.

'That is all taken care of,' Dumbledore said firmly.

'Wow,' said Ginny shakily, sinking back in her chair.

'Are you awake, Draco?'

He cracked an eye open and regarded the slim red-haired girl standing at the foot of his bed.

'Shouldn't be here,' he croaked. 'Not safe for you to be seen with me.'

Ginny shrugged. 'No-one else is here. Robards said he'd keep an eye out.' She went to the table next to his bed and poured him a glass of water. 'Here. Sorry it's not Firewhisky.'

He smirked briefly; then drank.

'So, what brings you to my temporary abode?' he asked.

'I'm leaving Hogwarts, so I came to say goodbye.'

'Shit! What?' Draco struggled to sit up. Alarmed, Ginny grabbed some pillows and propped him up. 'Surely they haven't expelled you?'

Ginny grinned. 'No, thicko. Ron sent a Howler to my parents, landing me right in it' –

Draco snorted.

'and they wanted me to come home because of the 'atmosphere' at school.' She air-quoted with her fingers. 'But Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall wrangled an opportunity for me to study at Durmstrang for the rest of the year, and return to Hogwarts next year.' She smiled. 'I've decided to go to Durmstrang.'

Draco cracked a pleased smile. 'You lucky bitch!' he congratulated. 'I'm so envious.'

'Yeah, I thought you'd be.'

Draco's smile fell, and he placed a hand on Ginny's forearm. 'I'm incredibly sorry, Red,' he whispered.

She covered his hand with her own. 'It's okay,' she replied softly. 'It wasn't all bad. See? I get to study at the best Quidditch school around, and I'll never forget what you taught me.' Her eyes glistened. 'I'm sure it will come in handy one day.'

Draco brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. 'The right man for you will come along, Red,' he promised. 'Just set your sights higher than a Slytherin, yeah?'

She grinned, but a tear dropped on to the bedsheet.

Draco opened his arms, and she leaned in and gently hugged him.

'Bye, Draco,' she sniffled.

'Bye, Red,' he whispered.

She pulled away, wiped her eyes, and left.

Draco stared up at the ceiling.

Lavender sat in the Library with a parchment, ink, and a quill. No apple this time, although she supposed she was a bit peckish. It wasn't worth bearing the brunt of Madam Pince's wrath.

She dipped her quill, and headed up her parchment.

Can I forgive Theo? Yes or no.

No

He used me to help that wanker Malfoy.

He hurt me.

I don't know if I can trust him.

Yes

We didn't know each other at the start.

He's my best friend.

I can't forget the amazing time we've spent together.

I love him. Still. Despite this.

The thought of being without him makes me want to cry.

He didn't mean to hurt me. It's not like he deliberately seduced me for the information and dumped me the next day.

If we're open and honest with each other, I can trust him again.

Therefore: yes.

She slowly rolled the parchment up. And headed to the Owlery.

Days passed, and the mania of the previous events settled. Blaise and Ron continued their detentions. Ginny's absence from Gryffindor was quietly noted.

Harry felt her absence more than most, and not just because there was a gaping hole in the Quidditch team that had to be urgently filled.

Hermione attended classes, did her Head Girl and Prefect duties. Professor McGonagall had suspended her from Infirmary duties for the time being, worried, she said, about a relapse in Hermione's health.

Having being none the wiser to Draco's assault and his continued presence in the Infirmary, she accepted it. If she noticed that he wasn't in class or at the Slytherin table, she kept her observations to herself. Truth be told, it was a little easier if she didn't see him.

But eventually, Draco was officially declared fit for duties, and it was time to return to school. His first hurdle was the Slytherin Common Room, but it wasn't that bad. Theo was there, Blaise wasn't, and Pansy was off frying other fish, so to speak.

He climbed into his bed, a bed he hadn't slept in for weeks, and did what he'd been doing ever since the assault.

Missing Hermione like hell.

Morning.

Breakfast.

A lesser man might have decided a little hunger was worth the skip, but Draco accepted that life had to plod on, regardless. He had a wand. Next time he'd use it.

Besides. Hermione might be there.

Theo walked with Draco into the Great Hall. And yeah, there was the standard dramatic pause in sound while everyone turned their heads like a great herd of sheep to stare at him, but he ignored them and sat at the Slytherin table. A quick glance up and down revealed that Zabini wasn't there.

He couldn't look at the Gryffindor table yet.

The owls made their way into the Great Hall and flapped about, looking for their drop-off points. Theo received a rolled parchment that made him turn rather pale at first, but when he shakily opened it and read the contents, his relief lit his face up like the sun.

Draco opened his letter with one hand while he stirred his coffee.

Malfoy

This isn't over.

We challenge you to a duel in two days' time at midday at the clearing in the Forbidden Forest.

Nominate your second.

Zabini and Weasley.

Draco silently handed the letter to Theo, and walked out of the Hall.

A/N: I should make it absolutely clear that Hermione was not trying to commit suicide. She was just in shock and her body temperature dropped.