Hermione ran. She ran with every ounce of energy she could muster, longing to put as much distance as she could between herself and the Three Broomsticks. Her chest ached, but it was not only from the icy air burning her lungs. Her heart hurt; It was heavy in her chest as though a hand had clasped onto it and was pulling it down toward the earth. Her cheeks stung against the winter cold and her feet pounded hard against the snow covered earth, but she did not slow down.

She was almost to the castle when her legs gave out and she fell to her knees. Her pants were instantly drenched from the snow, but she could hardly feel the cold anymore. She buried her face into her gloved hands and sobbed. She didn't care if anyone was watching and she didn't care that she was only a few meters from the castle. The urge to scream overcame her, but she could only manage choked sobs. She couldn't remember ever being this heart broken.

"'Ermione?" a booming voice called behind her.

She knew instantly who it was, but couldn't manage to pull her face away from her hands long enough to acknowledge him. She couldn't do anything at the moment, besides double over farther into the snow and will the tears to come, because they were coming whether she wanted them to or not.

"Let's get you inside," Hagrid said as he scooped her up into his arms. She felt much like a child as he drew her near to him and headed toward the castle.

The warmth of the castle would have felt fantastic had Hermione been in any suitable state to enjoy it. However, she hardly noticed as she regained feeling in her hands and feet or as the tears that were frozen to her cheeks began to melt.

Hermione had a vague idea of where Hagrid was taking her, and honestly she would rather be taken there than to the Gryffindor common room. No, she didn't need everyone to see her like this. Madam Pomfrey, who had seen her on several worse occasions (including her second year when she accidentally took a cat hair-infused Polyjuice Potion or the time her teeth grew so large they couldn't fit in her mouth) would hardly give her grief.

Hagrid kicked open the door to the hospital wing and Hermione heard Madam Pomfrey's startled voice.

"What's happened Hagrid?"

Hermione's eyes were still closed as Hagrid deposited her onto one of the many beds lining the hall. The tears had stopped, but the uncomfortable pressure in her chest did not ebb.

"Found her outside in the snow," Hagrid explained gruffly. "She hasn't said anything."

"Thank you very much," Madam Pomfrey said as she ushered Hagrid out of the hall. "I'll take it from here."

Hermione heard the doors close softly. Madam Pomfrey made her way over to Hermione's bedside, her heels clicking away at the marble floor.

"Miss Granger?" she said as she wiped Hermione's hair away from her face. "Can you hear me?"

Reluctant to open her mouth for fear of crying again, she nodded her head.

"Can you open your eyes for me dear?"

Hermione bit her bottom lip; she had no other choice than to obey. She opened her eyes slowly; they were painful and swollen from crying. She was certain she looked dreadful, but she quickly reminded herself that Madam Pomfrey was used to seeing much, much worse.

"That's a good girl," Madam Pomfrey said as she looked Hermione over. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

Hermione shook her head silently, still biting hard on her bottom lip.

"Just upset, then?" she asked sweetly.

Hermione nodded.

"I've got just the thing," Madam Pomfrey chimed. She hurried to a nearby medicine cabinet and rummaged through several different bottles.

She returned carrying a small lilac colored bottle and unstoppered it. After helping Hermione into a sitting position, she poured a bit into a tiny medicine cup and offered it to her.

"This will help calm your nerves dear," she explained. "You may feel a little drowsy at first, but it will certainly get the job done."

She wished that Madam Pomfrey could simply wipe her memory and make her forget her entire confrontation with Draco Malfoy, but she thankfully took the potion and knocked it back. It was tart, like a sour candy, but not bad. Hermione had tasted much fouler potions in her time.

"Thank you," she said, returning the medicine cup to Madam Pomfrey.

"Now lay down for a bit, and when you're feeling up to it, you may go."

Hermione did as she was told and laid back on the pillow behind her. Gazing up at the high ceiling, she replayed her conversation with Draco from that morning. No matter how many different ways she tried to analyze it, his words still hurt. It didn't matter that he was upset or drunk, he had meant what he said. Hermione tried to forgive him; After all, he was going through some very difficult things at the moment. But it was no use. Those words would forever play in Hermione's mind like a broken record. It's all your bloody fault.

Hermione was jolted from her reverie when the doors of the hospital wing crashed open.

"Hermione!" Ginny Weasley cried.

Hermione sat up quickly and saw several people running toward her: Ginny was in lead, followed by Harry, Mrs. Weasley, and George. Another Weasley hung back by the door, refusing to enter, but Hermione did not overlook him.

"Are you alright dear?" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed.

"What happened?" asked Harry.

"Hagrid told us he had brought you to the hospital wing!" Ginny squealed. "Said he found you outside."

"IF YOU WOULD ALL PLEASE KEEP YOUR VOICES DOWN," Madam Pomfrey pleaded.

Even though there were no other patients in the hall, the group obliged and dropped their voices.

"Are you alright dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked once more as she took a seat beside Hermione on the bed.

Hermione nodded. The potion she had taken earlier had certainly calmed her down; she didn't even feel like crying. However, it had done nothing to alleviate the heaviness she felt in her chest. Seriously, what was going on with her? She had never felt anything like this before... Was she dying?

"What happened?" Harry asked seriously.

Hermione looked nervously at Ginny, who met her gaze instantly. A flash of understanding graced Ginny's face, and she turned on the group.

"Well, thank goodness she's alright," Ginny said, clapping her hands together. "I for one thought she might have been attacked. I think what she needs is some rest."

Hermione looked at her friend with complete adoration; Ginny always knew what to say and do.

"Yes, I'm fine, really," Hermione said, keeping her voice as level as possible. "Just a little fatigued that's all."

George and Harry exchanged confused looks, and Mrs. Weasley forced a smile.

"Thank goodness you're alright. I've got to go tend to Fleur once more, but I'm sure these three will keep me updated," Mrs. Weasley smiled and pointed to her three companions.

Mrs. Weasley stood and with a curt wave, turned on her heel to leave the hall.

However, before she reached the door, Hermione called to her. "Mrs. Weasley what's wrong with Fleur? Is she alright?"

Mrs. Weasley paused. "She's be fine, dear. Don't you worry. She just can't keep anything down."

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. "Was it something she ate?"

Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "You haven't heard the good news? She's pregnant! Get well soon, dear!"

When Mrs. Weasley had vanished from the hall, Hermione gaped at her friends. "And why was I not told about this?"

"We just found out," George said defensively.

"The poor thing's been vomiting all day," Ginny said sadly. "She can't even take an anti-nausea potion because she smell makes her sick."

"That's awful," Hermione said sympathetically.

"Are you going to tell us what happened?" Harry asked eagerly.

"I'd rather talk to just Ginny," she answered feebly. "Not that you both won't find out soon anyway, but I need to talk to her."

After a long moment, Ginny looked from her boyfriend to her brother. "Well, you heard the woman. Why are you still here?"

Grumbling as they went, the two boys left the hall. Ginny was quite sure she heard some very profound swear words leave George's mouth, but she ignored him. When the doors closed behind them, and the two girls were alone (aside from Madam Pomfrey who sat reading in a corner), Ginny spoke.

"Did you find Draco?" she asked. "Is that what this is all about?"

Hermione nodded. "He's in Hogsmeade."

"What in Merlin's name is he doing there?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Hermione sighed.

"Try me."

Hermione explained quietly how she had gone to check in the Three Broomsticks; Upon not finding Draco in the pub, she had voiced her concerns to Madam Rosmerta, who in turn assured her that Draco was, indeed, there. Ginny was a fantastic audience, making all the appropriate facial expressions and occasionally whispering things such as "no way" or "that's crazy". She had just gotten to the part where Draco had gone on about losing his family fortune and wanting to wallow in his sorrows when she choked on her words.

"What's wrong Hermione?" Ginny asked, scooting close enough to her friend so that she could drape her arm around her shoulders.

"He blamed it all on me," Hermione said, her voice hardly more than a whisper. "He said it was all my fault."

Ginny glared in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

Hermione nodded as hot tears began to form in her eyes.

"Maybe he still is a foul git," Ginny said, still not believing that Draco could have been so cruel. "People can't pretend forever, Hermione. Maybe Harry was right..."

Hermione looked up at her friend just as a tear slid down her cheek. "What do you mean?"

Ginny replied hesitantly. "Draco could have just been in it to redeem himself. Being with a muggle born could be just what he needs to make the whole wizarding world forgive him. But, maybe, it didn't go as he planned."

Hermione's heart fell in her chest as the reality of Ginny's words overcame her. Draco had used her this entire time.

...x...x...x...

Draco pried his eyes open reluctantly. He could tell the sun was setting by the dull, orange light seeping through the curtains. He glanced around the room, for a moment unsure where he was and after several seconds, recalled that he was at the Three Broomsticks. He tried to sit up, but gave up instantly when he felt his skull about to explode.

When the pain finally ebbed he tried once more, this time much slower, to pull himself into a sitting position. His head pounded and... Gods, what the hell was that smell?

Draco peered cautiously over the edge of the bed and noticed for the first time the large puddle of dried vomit on the floor.

"Fucking great," Draco mumbled as he crawled across the bed and retrieved his wand from the bedside table.

With the sick cleaned up, Draco tucked his wand into his pocket and crawled out of bed. As he passed the mirror hanging on the wall he paused for a moment and looked himself over. Bloody hell, he thought. He looked terrible. His hair was sticking in several directions and he had bags under his eyes. He was unusually pale and his eyes were bloodshot. He looked like a fucking madman.

He slid his shoes on and headed toward the door, not particularly eager to see Madam Rosmerta. He couldn't remember all of what happened the previous night, but he imagined that he hadn't been a very pleasant guest.

There were a few people scattered throughout the pub as Draco made his way to the bar; Madam Rosmerta's back was turned to him while she prepared several mugs of beer. She heard the scraping of the bar stool on the floor as Draco took a seat and called over her shoulder.

"Be with you in just a moment!"

She spun around, four mugs of cold beer in her hands and came to a halt when her gaze fell on Draco.

"Awake are we now?" she asked tartly.

Draco smirked apologetically as the bar owner made her way past him to deliver the drinks. He had the growing suspicion that he had, in fact, not been a very pleasant guests the night before. He also had the growing suspicion that he was about to hear about it first hand from Madam Rosmerta.

She soon returned. She positioned herself directly in front Draco and placed both her hands on the bar in front of him.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" she asked flatly.

Draco winced. "I'm sorry?"

"You don't even remember last night do you?"

He shook his head. "Not really. Are you going to enlighten me?"

Madam Rosmerta smirked. "I'm not sure what happened before you got here, but you were already tipsy when you came in. You sat here at the bar drinking for nearly two hours before you started going on belligerent rants and scaring off my customers. I finally got you upstairs and locked you in, but you made quite a raucous up there for a while. And then, that poor girl came in looking for you and you ran her off..."

Draco's eyebrows shot up as he interrupted her, "Wait... a girl came to see me?"

"Yes," Madam Rosmerta said. "That girl wouldn't take no for an answer. I told her that she'd be better to come back later on when you weren't so inconsolable, but she insisted. Next thing I knew, she was running out of my bar and out of the village."

Draco slumped in his chair. It must have been Hermione. After all, no other girl would be looking for him in Hogsmeade... except maybe the ginger-haired one on Hermione's behalf, but she wouldn't have left running. No, if it had been the Weasley girl, she would have left him in a worse state than she found him. It was definitely Hermione; She had come to see him, and he had done or said something to make her run away.

What could he have said that was bad enough to make her leave in such a manner?

"Did she say anything when she left?" Draco asked glumly.

"She didn't have time," Madam Rosmerta replied. "She tossed the key on the bar as she ran by. I half expected you to come running after her, but I'm quite certain you weren't in any fit state to walk, much less run."

Draco groaned. "Bloody fucking hell." He had messed up. And the worst part of it was he didn't even know what he had done to fuck it up.

He knew he had overstayed his welcome at the Three Broomsticks, and after paying Madam Rosmerta handsomely for her generosity, Draco decided it was time to head back to the castle. His head still hurt, but he had grown hungry and was eager to make it to the Great Hall for dinner.

Darkness spread over the grounds as the sun finally slipped completely behind the distant hills. The temperature had dropped several degrees in mere minutes, and Draco shoved his hands in his pockets to try and keep warm. Perhaps it was simply his hangover, but an uneasy feeling was overcoming him that he couldn't shake. Perhaps it was the fact that in moments he would be face to face with Hermione and he wasn't sure he could handle it yet. Or perhaps it was the footsteps he heard behind him.

Draco turned quickly and gazed into the darkness. He squinted his eyes, trying to make out the shadows and shapes behind him, but all he could see was the snow covered earth and the distant, pin pricks of light coming from Hogsmeade. The sound he had heard could have simply been the wind. Slightly comforted, Draco turned back and continued along the path to Hogwarts.

It was several minutes more before Draco heard the footsteps once again, and this time there was no mistaking them. He reached for his wand and turned quickly, but before he could even think of an incantation he saw a jet of red magic shoot toward him and knock him directly in the chest. He felt his wand jerked from his hand, leaving him completely defenseless as two figures grabbed him.

"What did you do to Hermione?" one of the them yelled in his face.

His head throbbed. "I didn't do anything to her!"

Draco crumpled when he felt a heavy blow to his gut, just below his left ribs. He gasped for air and tried to straighten himself, but the strangers' hold immobilized him.

"Self-centered prat," the other figure said. "We knew you couldn't pretend forever."

"Pretend? What the bloody hell are you talking about?" Draco asked, craning his neck to get a view of his attacker.

"Draco Malfoy is suddenly fond of muggleborns, particularly one who helped destroy Voldemort and save the entire wizarding world," the first man said. "Come off it, Malfoy. We know you were playing her the whole time."

"Get off me," Draco said, trying to shake the two men, but it was no use. He felt something hard, he assumed a fist, come down against his jaw.

"I'm going to ask you one more time," one of the men said. "What did you do to Hermione?"

"I don't... I don't remember," Draco said angrily as he spat blood. "I was drunk. I don't know what happened."

"TOOK ADVANTAGE OF HER DID YA?" one of the men yelled. "Hagrid found her out on the grounds, crying her eyes out. Did you do it there or in Hogsmeade and make her walk all the way back to the castle?"

Draco suddenly recognized the voice of Ronald Weasley and smirked. "Can't take me on your own, eh Weasel, so you have to bring someone else with you?"

Ron's face twisted in rage and he punched Draco as hard as he could in the face; He felt Draco's nose crack under his fist.

Now that he had identified Ron, Draco assumed the other must also be a Weasel.

"If you know what's good for you, you slick tosser, you'll stay away from our Hermione. You've done enough damage, and we're not going to let you hurt her anymore. Do yourself a favor and find another muggleborn to use for your personal gain," the second man warned.

Before Draco knew it, he was face down in the snow and his attackers had vanished.