i"Where did you get it?!"

"We found it in the forest, I swear we didn't -"

"You're LYING, MUDBLOOD!"

"No! No! I'm not, I sw -"

"CRUCIO!"

Hermione was sobbing, her tears mixing with blood and streaming down her face. "Please, no," she whispered, barely conscious.

"Begging are we?" Bellatrix let out a mad cackle. "It won't do you any good, pretty. The entire world is going to see you for the filthy mudblood you are…that is, if I don't kill you."

Unable to keep her pain subdued any longer, Hermione screamed when she felt the cold blade of the knife hit her arm. A sharp pain. The warmth of her life's blood spilling out over her wrist and forearm. "Stop! Please!"'

"Oh, stop? Alright, I'll make it stop."

Hermione felt the cold steel, now slick with her blood, pressed against her throat.

Hermione shot up in bed, her eyes wide and wand raised. She was breathing hard, drenched in sweat with her sheets clinging to her body. The cool, dry air of Hogwarts brought Hermione back into reality, and she recognized the still-sleeping form of Luna across the room. Slumping, Hermione sighed. "Shit," she mumbled, dropping her wand and scrubbing her face with her hands. "I really need a firewhisky."

Slipping on her robe and padding out into the common room, Hermione walked over to the windowed wall and watched as the sun peaked out from behind the thick forest and rolling hills. So it's almost five-thirty then…too late to try and get back to sleep. She pulled her robe closer to her body. Might as well face the day.

She didn't move, though. As much as her brain was telling her to go shower, dress, and find breakfast, her heart and feet kept her grounded by the window, watching the sky go from black, to midnight blue, to pink, to orange, and finally red. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" a voice said from behind Hermione.

Turning slowly, Hermione smiled as Neville walked up beside her, his hair unbrushed, clothed in button-up old-fashioned pajamas and slippers. "I've missed it," she admitted, looking back out over the landscape.

"Even last year, in the middle of all that evil, I could find comfort watching the sunrise." Neville was staring pensively out the window when Hermione turned to look at him. She nodded sadly and returned to the study of her living painting.

The two stood in companionable silence for a while before Neville continued. "Were you woken up by nightmares?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Yup. The final battle?"

"Sometimes. Mostly Malfoy Manor."

"I heard about that. It sounded awful."

"Yeah, it was."

Silence.

"Neville, do you ever dream of the dead?"

The young man broke his stare out the window and looked at Hermione. "All the time," he said softly. "I just…I just see them over and over again, dying right in front of me."

"Really? I see them all calling to me…." Hermione searched desperately for the words to articulate her repeating nightmare. "Like, it all starts with Sirius, standing behind the veil. But then Dumbledore joins him, and Lupin, and Moody….pretty soon they're all there just staring at me."

"Well, you saw more death than I did," Neville said, rubbing his eyes and sighing.

Silence.

"You know we couldn't have done anything different, 'Mione. There would have still been death, no matter what we did."

"….yeah. I guess so. Thanks Nev."

"Are you going to go back to bed?"

"Nope. You?"

"Probably not. I thought I'd go for a run around the lake."

"Ok." Hermione massaged her temples. "Have fun Nev. I'm going to go hunt down some food, I think."

Neville nodded and turned to leave. "Oh, and 'Mione," he said, almost forgetting. "I'm really impressed that you're trying with Draco. I mean, I don't know if I could've done that."

Hermione snorted. "Done what?"

"Give him another chance."

Mired in her own mind, it took Hermione a while before she moved after Neville left. She was stuck on auto-pilot, showering and dressing as if in a trance. When she walked back out into the common room, the glaring red letters on Draco's door caught her eye again. Damn, I was supposed to send that letter!

Mentally kicking herself, Hermione grabbed a quill and parchment and quickly scribbled a note to one of her favourite Weasleys;

Hey George!

It's Mione here. Hopefully everything's good with you and Angelina, and I'm sure that Wheezes is doing well – almost all the first-years want to sneak off and visit your shop in Hogsmead. (You manage to corrupt future generations of pranksters without even being present! That's quite the talent.)

I can't give you too many details for fear of offending someone I know, but an unknown vandal has managed to find a type of paint that absorbs spells you send at it, and then sends your own charms back at you. I unfortunately discovered this first-hand. Wasn't there a Wheezes product a couple quarters ago that did that? Sorry if my memory is entirely inaccurate, but any advice you have on how to get the paint off would be really appreciated!

Thanks! Say hi to Angelina for me!

~Mione

Satisfied, Hermione rolled up the parchment and headed off towards the owlery. Skipping up the last few steps, she made it to the noisy, warm, rather awful smelling room where all of Hogwarts' owls resided. Holding up a knut, Hermione called out, "I need an owl to make a delivery to London!"

A few owls raised their heads groggily, but a brown speckled barn owl flew immediately to Hermione and extended the pouch on its leg. In italic script on the pouch was the name "Léon". I really must learn French, Hermione thought to herself, thinking of Draco and Étoile.

"Thank you Léon," she said politely, tying her scroll to the owl's claw. "Please deliver this letter to Mister George Weasley – you should find him at the Weasley Wizard Wheezes store in Diagon Alley."

Blinking his yellow eyes and hooting once, Léon took off from Hermione's arm and headed out over the quidditch pitch. As her eyes followed the owl, Hermione caught sight of a lone figure above the pitch; they were looping and diving at ridiculously fast speeds, their robes flapping behind them like large wings. Silhouetted against the dawn light, the figure was completely anonymous.

Hermione squinted and raised her hand above her eyes to block out the light. Who the hell is out on the pitch at this hour? she wondered, still watching the silent figure.

She wasn't overly surprised, however, when she caught a glimpse of blonde hair.

Draco.

Rocketing high above the pitch, Hermione almost lost the Slytherin in the rising sun. She gasped as he came plummeting down, headed on a beeline for the ground. "Slow down," she whispered to herself, wringing her hands. "You'll hurt yourself, slow down, slow down, slowdown!"

Hermione nearly screamed when Draco disappeared beneath the stands still going at his frightening speed. She didn't realize that she was holding her breath until Draco reappeared above the stands and she took a large gulp of air. God damn it Draco!

Shaking her head, she brusquely turned on her heel and headed down the owlery steps. Reckless, stupid, teenage boy! What an idiot!

This mental tirade continued until Hermione arrived in the Great Hall to see Harry and Susan already sitting at the eighth-year table, whispering to each other over their toast. Susan looked up as Hermione approached. "God Granger, you look terrible," she said, her eyes travelling up and down Hermione's body.

Hermione glared at the young woman who was still wearing her ridiculous boots. "I had trouble falling asleep last night," she said tersely. "It must have been all the noise coming from Dean and Seamus' room."

Shrugging, Susan returned to her food. "Morning Harry," Hermione said, sitting down beside her friend with a sigh.

"Nightmares?" Harry whispered so that Susan couldn't hear.

Giving a nod so small that it was almost imperceptible, Hermione confirmed her friend's suspicions. "I don't have any access to firewhisky here, so of course they came back."

Harry frowned. "Did you want to try some Dreamless Sleep?"

"Pah – that stuff doesn't work for me anymore. I used it way too much in the first few months after the battle; now it's totally ineffective."

Harry nodded sadly. "Same here. At least we didn't get addicted to it though, hey? I hear that's what happened to Bill…."

Hermione and Harry continued their conversation until the first few students came trickling in. "Hermione!" Luna called out, sauntering down the aisle towards the table. "I'm surprised that you woke up so early of your own volition!"

"Yeah," Hermione said uneasily as Luna sat across from her. "It's a miracle."

More and more children came filing into the Great Hall, some of them bursting with energy and others who were very obviously not morning people. Harry stood up, however, when a red-haired figure came into the hall. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go finish my breakfast with Ginny," Harry said politely, getting up and walking away from the table.

"He's got it bad," Lavender sighed, stabbing a sausage with her fork.

"They're so sweet together though, you've got to admit!" Padma said, unwrapping a muffin.

"I wish someone would look at me like that," Hannah said, staring longingly at the embracing couple across the hall.

Hermione looked around, noting Draco's absence from their table. Craning her neck, she even scoured the Slytherin table for him; no luck. "Hey, did any of you guys see Draco in the common room?" she asked, trying to seem nonchalant.

It felt as if everyone was staring at her, and no one was moving. The silence stretched ridiculously long before Neville said coolly, "No, I didn't, sorry Hermione. Did he sleep in, do you think?"

"I don't know." Hermione's brow furrowed. "I didn't think he'd want to miss the second day of class, especially with this TA project and all…."

"Speaking of the TA," Seamus called out, grinning, "what classes is everyone applying for?"

"DADA," Susan said bluntly, leaning back in her chair. "No question."

"Herbology," Neville said softly, looking down at his plate.

"I was hoping to get Care of Magical Creatures," Luna said, twirling some hair around her finger. "Hagrid could use the help, and since he's so tall maybe he can help me catch some Flitterplumps."

"Defense," Dean and Seamus said in unison, glaring at each other.

"I was going for defense too!" Lavender said, narrowing her eyes.

"Herbology," Hannah squeaked, ducking so that Lavender could glare at Dean and Seamus without her head in the way.

"Tranfiguration," Padma said coolly. "McGonagall is retiring soon, and I'd love to be a teacher here."

"Hey, that's what I'm going out for as well! Maybe we'll be partners!" Michael said loudly, grinning at a grimacing Padma.

Justin looked at Susan before saying, "Defense. Definitely."

"Hey Hermione, what are you hoping for?" Dean called out, attempting to draw Lavender's attention away from him.

"Umm, maybe potions?" she said. "I don't really know, though. It's a big decision."

Micheal's eyebrows shot up. "Potions? Really? I'd have thought that you'd be trying for defense too. Harry was telling me this morning that that's what he was trying for…"

Seamus groaned. "Great. Since Harry's going to automatically make the DADA TA position, we all have to compete to fill one spot."

The tension at the table was palpable as all the DADA-hopefuls stared each other down, gauging strengths and identifying weaknesses. Hermione cleared her throat awkwardly. "Well, erm, I'm going to go, um, to potions now. Bye."

As quickly as she could manage, Hermione picked up her bag and walked out of the hallway, her half-eaten breakfast forgotten. Neville and Luna followed not far behind. "So much for encouraging unity," Neville snorted, looking at his feet. "This is going to be a tense day."

And, sure enough, Neville's prediction was correct; all throughout the day, the eighth-years were distracted. Dean and Seamus refused to sit together – Now there's a first, Hermione thought – and Lavender and Susan kept sending mean-spirited notes to one another. Slughorn, of course, was oblivious to this as he lectured on the properties of Pepper-Up Potions, but other teachers seemed to notice that something was off. The new DADA teacher, Professor Prewitt, almost set her hair on fire she was so nervous, and Flitwick stuttered his way through what was supposed to be a class discussion.

While Hermione was concerned about her friends' odd behavior, she was more worried about the individual who was noticeably absent from all his classes; it was the last period of the day, and Draco still hadn't emerged. Their final class, Astronomy, was a complete failure; Sinistra told them that they were supposed to be monitoring the process of the sun, however the dark, heavy rainclouds that had moved in during the afternoon destroyed the lesson plan. They ended up reciting constellation names and all the stars' properties as they watched the downpour start outside the classroom windows.

As the eighth-years walked from the Astronomy Tower to the Great Hall, Hermione grabbed Neville's sleeve. "I'm just going to run up to the Tower and make sure that Draco's alright, ok? I'll be down for dinner in a bit," she whispered.

Neville nodded and Hermione silently drifted away from the group and headed up the stairs to Unity Tower. When she unlocked the door with her key, Hermione was disappointed to see no one in the common room. Walking over to the window, she saw no one over by the quidditch pitch either. Where the hell are you, Draco?

Just as she thought that, Hermione heard a creak. She turned around to see that Draco's bedroom door had moved ever-so-slightly open, as if beckoning her to go in. Moving slowly towards the door, Hermione knocked lightly. "Hello?" she called out, knocking again. "Draco, are you in there?"

Not hearing any answer, Hermione pushed the door open. "Hello?" she called out again, moving into the dark room. "Lumos," she whispered, drawing her wand, and Draco's room came into focus.

The dorm was simple; an unmade bed with black sheets lay tucked into the corner, and a wardrobe and garbage were to Hermione's right. The garbage was noticeably overfilled with tissues, and some of the ones close to the top looked bloody. Uh, that looks like it was a nasty nosebleed, Hermione said, wrinkling her nose. Maybe he's sick.

Just as she was about to call out again, the bathroom door slammed open, and Draco walked out. His hair was unwashed and windswept, his eyes bloodshot, his skin unnaturally pale. He was wearing a turtleneck, but he reached over and grabbed a thick jacket from his wardrobe and threw it over his shoulders angrily. "What the hell are you doing here Granger?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.

"I – um – the door was open -"

"No it wasn't!" Draco yelled, his eyes burning. "I know when I lock my door!"

"The door was open!" Hermione insisted, backing away from the obviously upset Draco. "I just wanted to make sure that you're ok!"

"Great. Thanks. I'm fine. Now go away."

Hermione's eyes grew steely. "No!" she insisted. "I'm worried about you Draco! Between your weird episode yesterday and you skipping class today, I'm genuinely concerned that there's something wrong with you!"

Draco laughed bitterly. "There are lots of things wrong with me," he said, sounding like he was on the verge of hysterics. "I'm a Death Eater, for one. Don't tell me that I'm not, you know what they say – once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater. I'm a pureblood elitist. Never mind that I just parroted what my father said, that doesn't matter!"

Hermione felt tears welling up in the corner of her eyes. "Draco, stop -"

"I'm the son of one of Voldemort's inner circle, which of course makes me evil by association. I did well in Potions, but that's all a lie because I just used the favoritism of Snape, who only saw me as a potential future servant of the Dark Lord. And I just got word that my oh-so beloved father has escaped from Azkaban, and the Ministry is accusing me of being complicit in his escape. As you can see, Miss-Perfect-Granger, there are many things wrong with me."

Hermione was at a loss for words. Usually she was good at comforting people, but this time the words just stuck in her throat. Silence filled the room as Draco panted, staring at Hermione and crossing his arms to bring his jacket closer to his chest. "None of that's true," Hermione said hoarsely, finally breaking the quiet. "You know that."

Draco shook his head. "You don't get it," he said quietly. "You'll never get it. Now get the hell out of my room."

"I'd like to understand, Draco," Hermione said, taking a step towards Malfoy. The Slytherin flinched, but didn't move away. "I'd like to get to know you as who you really are, not who you had to pretend to be."

Hermione took another step towards Draco who had now closed his eyes and was breathing slowly. She placed her hand lightly on his cheek. "I want to know the boy from Malfoy Manor, the one who stepped in for me when Bellatrix had her knife on my throat. That is the Draco Malfoy that I want to know."

Draco leaned into Hermione's touch before flinching and stepping away. "That boy is a myth, a figment of your imagination," he said bitterly. "I'm nothing. Forget about me."

Storming past Hermione and out into the common room, Draco slammed the outer door as he headed down the steps. Hermione made it over to the windowed wall before she fell to her knees, tears blurring her vision. Looking out onto the grounds, she saw Draco exit the main doors and step into the pouring rain. He walked until he was almost at the forest boundary before he stopped. Throwing off his jacket and tilting his head to the sky, Draco Malfoy stretched out his arms and stood in the rain, hoping it would wash him clean.

Hermione's sobs began in earnest then. She rarely cried, and whenever she did it was always a short spasm of grief that passed after a few moments. These tears, however, were different; they weren't for her, they were for Draco, and they lasted far longer and meant so much more than any tears she had ever spilt before.

A/N: Happy Tuesday! Hopefully you enjoyed this next installment, it was cool to write. The next chapter should be heading your way around Friday (September 29th), but I have a History IA to do so it might be Saturday. Around that time. Please R&R! :) ~sneakyslytherin