Monday morning dawned like any other Monday morning before it. Cold, dreary, and with a general feeling of lethargy and procrastination in the air. Rachel moaned and rolled out of bed. The room was cold, but in more ways then one. Though the freezing floor stung Rachel's feet as she hopped about, getting ready, what hurt more was the sense of divide between the four girls.

When Rachel and Hermione were both dressed and ready, they headed downstairs for breakfast, trying not to look at Lavender and Parvati whispering furiously behind them.

The first class they had was history of magic, Rachel's worst class. She actually paid attention, this time, to get her mind off other matters. She looked at Seamus once, and was shocked to see him returning her gaze with a stare. She blinked, and he looked away.

Then came potions. Rachel was less worried about this class, even with Snape. Mixing some potions may be relaxing, and perhaps she could whip up something which would cover Lavender with boils.

"We will continue working on our energy potions. They have been sitting over the weekend, and are now ready for you to add the–"

Rachel didn't hear him. She felt strangely lightheaded, and free. She shook her head back and forth for a moment.

"What's wrong?" Ron was looking at her.

"N-nothing." She heard herself say, though she wasn't aware if she was really saying it.

The lightheaded feeling was sinking through her, causing her scalp to prickle. It felt nice though, like she had nothing to worry about, and everything would be taken care of. It reminded her vaguely of something, but she couldn't remember what. She thought she might go to the nurse, but, then again, nothing was really wrong, was there?

"Rachel?" Ron was staring at her. She didn't look well. Her face seemed paler, and her eyes dull. She just stood there, not answering him.

Nah, didn't need to go the nurse. She was fine. Perfect health.

"Rachel?"

Who was that? Who was talking to her? That scary red haired boy. Who was he? She felt a blackness creeping up behind her. She felt like embracing that blackness, pulling it toward her, a blanket of dark, warm, safeness, free from pain and problems. So that was exactly what she did.

Ron saw Rachel fall a second before it actually happened. He saw her eyes blink a few times, and saw her start to sway. He wanted to ask her if she were alright, but she had been ignoring it the other times. Then she actually did fall, eyes closed, body limp.

It seemed to happen in slow motion. Ron reached for her, and, not being the most physically fit person he knew, she took him down with her. It was due more to surprise then strength, because Rachel was very light. So, Ron found himself in a very interesting position, back on the ground, face on it's side, staring at the dirty stone floor, and Rachel's body, weak, and limp like water, covering him.

Snape looked up. "Mr. Weasley, must I take house points? What is this foolishness?"

"It's not foolishness Professor!" Neville's face was pale. "It's–it's"

"Spit it out boy!" Snape was losing his patience.

"Rachel Jacobson."

"And what did SHE do? I do hope that it is nothing inappropriate. I have heard she is at a loss for human companionship, but it appears she and Mr. Weasley–"

"She fainted Professor."

"What?" Snape strode over. Indeed, Rachel was collapsed over Ron, who was being very patient considering he had a teenage American lying across him. Snape leaned over, placed a hand on Rachel's forehead. He frowned and drew it back sharply in alarm, then bent down, picked her up, and carried her hurriedly from the room, an anxious look on his face.

A/N: Sorry these two chapters were so short. I should have combined them, but you know me, evilness is my existance. La cliffe!