Hermione wandered into the Gryffindor common room. It was past curfew and most of the Gryffindors were muttering in front of the fire or making homework. Ginny, apparently, was attempting to do both. Still feeling a little disoriented, Hermione walked over to greet her friend.

"Hey-" she said when Ginny looked up. Next to her sat Neville, looking very concentrated.

"Hey, 'Mione, something wrong?" Ginny asked.

"I don't… I don't know."

"Why aren't you wearing any shoes?" Hermione looked down. Only then she found out why the cold had been creeping up to her via her toes. A tear rolled down her face. Distracted she wiped it away. Ginny, sensing something was very wrong, stood up and took her friend to sit in one of the big armchairs in the corner.

"What's going on, Hermione? Tell me," Ginny suggested calmly, wiping another lost tear from her face. Hermione gazed into the nothingness, trying very hard to answer that question.

"I was walking … and I suddenly felt so lost and so sad and…" She did not know how to describe that third feeling. Lovesick was as close as she got, but that was absurd.

"It was like a dementor was hoovering next to me, but I know it couldn't have been because I could feel the warmth of the fire and dementors aren't invisible and Professor Dumbledore would never allow them on school grounds, they're all in Azkaban," she ranted on, knowing that she was right yet not fully convinced of it.

Once, dementors had been allowed on school grounds, and they had almost gotten to her, when she had lain next to Harry and Sirius at the riverbank. All the happiness had been sucked from her and she had known she had been about to face a fate worse than dead, she would have lived on, soulless, never able to experience any feeling at all.

"Hey, you're safe now," Ginny shushed and pulling a trembling Hermione in a hug. She knew of the nightmares and the horrible memories that sometimes just floated to the surface without warning. She knew because she, too, had once lain helpless while someone sucked the life energy out of her. It was not something she liked to be reminded of.

"Is she okay?" Neville asked uncertainly as he shuffled closer.

"She's fine, she just needs to sleep." Neville nodded, he wanted to help, but not knowing what to do he just stood there.

"Come on, Hermione, I'll bring you to bed." She helped Hermione up, who nodded, happy to have someone else take control for a change.

"Neville, if you could just get my stuff and put it in front of my room." Neville nodded and walked away, eager to be of assistance.

"I hope I didn't disturb anything," Hermione said as she walked up the girl's stairs.

"You didn't. Neville has just been helping me with my Herbology homework."

Parvati and Lavender were busy whispering. They fell quiet when the door opened and watched the two girls walk in. Hermione's face was just a tad to ashen.

The three girls didn't always see eye to eye, but they knew, most of the time, not to ask too many questions.

"What happened?"

"Are you okay?" They both fired at Hermione.

"She'll be fine, she just needs to rest," Ginny answered, for her. She left Hermione to change and headed over to the two girls.

"Hermione isn't feeling alright, so she's going to go to bed now. If you want to continue your conversation, please move downstairs." Even though she did not particularly like her brother's girlfriend, it was good to know she was a decent person. Hermione's roommates both left the room without protest. Ginny followed them out, but went to her own room instead, where she changed into her nightgown before heading back to Hermione. She was already in bed, and Ginny quietly slid in next to her. Listening to the wind that howled around the Gryffindor tower, they fell asleep.

Hermione was startled awake. It was still dark outside and the clock on the wall told her it was a little past four thirty. Ginny, still sound asleep, had claimed most of the covers. After a while Hermione decided to head downstairs. She didn't want to wake her friend with her turning and tossing.

The fire was extinguished, but the glowing embers still emitted a comfortable warmth. She walked towards the window, unable to see anything through the absolute darkness. Instead, she stared at the raindrops that clung against the glass.

It was not unlike her to have the occasional nightmare. She was usually able to cast them aside, though, not this time. Trying to remember what it had been about, she closed her eyes. Nothing. She realised there must be something else bothering her as well. Something much like a dream, something that slipped through your fingers like water the more she thought about it. And again she got hit by that unexplainable feeling of loss.

At six she moved back to bed, hoping to act like nothing had happened.

The fire crackled in the nearly deserted Prefect's common room. It was already after 'normal' curfew and Hermione had just returned from patrolling the hallways. Twenty more minutes till her own curfew. She sat on the couch, her homework laying on the table, untouched.

These past two days had been the worst. She had forgotten the password, her homework, her books, she had even stepped on the trick step on one of the staircases leading to the third floor, nearly losing her trainers again (someone had found them, standing in front of the portrait, strange). It was almost like she had turned into a second Neville.

Today, during lunch, she had turned to the library, trying to find the answers to her sudden forgetfulness. There were some magical illnesses that would explain her symptoms, but none of them made any sense. She hadn't been in touch with any dementors lately, and she was pretty sure she hadn't been bitten by a vampire. A mental illness made sense, but she couldn't quite owl her parents asking for books on that particular subject, they would worry too much.

Maybe she'd just been under too much stress, already preparing for her N.E.W.T.'s. Should she ask Madam Pomfrey for a check-up? But what would she tell her; I'm just not feeling myself, recently? That sounded a bit vague, didn't it.

Hermione tried thinking back, once again, to that night she had lost her trainers. She couldn't, it was like something was blocking her out. She knew she had been waiting for Malfoy, but she couldn't remember actually doing so. Why had he not showed? What had he wanted to talk about? Nothing made sense any more.

She had barely seen him, these past days. He hadn't shown up in any of their joint classes, and every time they'd crossed in the hallways she had felt he had been avoiding her gaze. She had seen him at the Slytherin table, but he had looked quite miserable himself, even more so than she felt.

The sound of the opening brick wall startled Hermione from her thoughts. Curiously, Hermione looked up and waited for the person to enter. It could be Ernie, but he had told her he would go straight to bed after he had finished patrolling. Maybe he had forgotten something.

What she did not expect, however, was for a certain Slytherin to walk through the entrance.

"Malfoy?" she exclaimed in surprise. Draco stopped dead in his tracks, clearly not thinking anyone to be here, at this hour.

"What are you doing here?" She stood up and walked towards him. "I thought you stopped being a prefect?"

"Yes, ehm, yes, I did. It's just that..." he fell silent. She now stood in front of him, crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows questioningly. If he had indeed stopped being a Prefect he had no business here, whatsoever.

"I forgot something!"

"You forgot something?" she repeated, obviously doubting his answer. "You know, you could've asked Pansy to get it for you. I'm sure she-" She fell silent. The opening in the wall was growing smaller and Draco had stepped closer. Hermione felt herself unable to take a step back, her feet fixed on the ground.

He was close, too close. Not as close as he had been. Her trainers fell to the floor, but she was still wearing them. Her arms around his neck, but she had them crossed in front of her. They were apart. He raised his wand, but he had not moved.

'I'm sorry, Hermione,' he said, pain apparent on his face. He did not look hurt, he looked concerned, worried.

"Hermione, are you okay?" She barely heard him, only just noting the movement of his mouth. Was she? Confusion.

'Obliviate!' A flash, followed by ignorance. Nothing. She fell, welcoming the darkness and the warmth that enfolded around her.