(TFG: J.K. Rowling's.)

Discoveries-12-Saved

... No! It was obsurd! Malfoy didn't love her! Why would he? It didn't make any sense! But then she reasoned, that nothing that happened this summer had made any sense. So it was perfectly normal... in a way.

The woman looked vicious right now. It scared the living daylights out of Hermione. If Malfoy was below her... maybe she could...

She had to at least try! She stomped her feet on the hardwood floor, hoping he'd hear and wake up. Then she ran straight at the woman, still making all the noise she could, screaming included. Suddenly she felt very cold. And she no longer saw the woman standing in front of her. She stopped. Maybe it was all just her imagination. Maybe it-

WASN'T! She felt someone grab her from behind, and turned her neck as far as she could to see who it was. It was the woman!

But she heard another sound. Footsteps. And something opening. Something near. Her eyes darted from the woman to the door, and watched as the figure of Malfoy approached. He stood, frozen to the stop when he saw her, then rushed over and freed Hermione of the woman's grasp.

"Run!" he shouted. She didn't need telling twice. She ran as fast as she could, out of the house, and down the dirt road.

A while later, dirty and out of breath, Hermione retired to an old roadside cafe, where she received strange looks from all the other customers. It was true... she looked like hell. Her hair a mess, her nightgown soaking wet, and her feet were caked it dirt. She even cut her left foot on a piece of broken glass while running, and now had dried up blood along with the dirt. It wasn't a pretty sight, let me tell you.

She threw herself into an empty booth, and began looking at a menu, before the manager came over and threw her out.

'Boy, this night sure is turning out great,' Hermione thought, as she continued walking, stomach growling insanely. She didn't know how much more she could take. It was cold out, and it didn't help that she was in the condition she was.

But she definitely couldn't go back there. Not now. Not ever. It wasn't even the end of summer, and they hadn't finished solving the case yet. Now she'd never get to be Head Girl. They'd find someone else.

"Hermione, wait up!" a voice called, startling her. She spun around and saw Malfoy jogging towards her.

"What are we going to do?" she asked. "We can't go back there."

"No, we can't," Malfoy agreed, thinking. "We could find someplace to stay. A hotel or something."

"Yeah, I suppose that'll have to do."

They ended up finding a room to stay in at a motel. There was only one vacant room, so they had to share one. And there was only one bed. Hermione refused, until Malfoy said he'd sleep on the sofa.

After they both got cleaned up, they watched some television. During a commercial, Hermione turned to Malfoy and asked, "What was she talking about?"

"Who?"

"That woman," Hermione said. "Who was she, and what was she talking about when she said she wanted revenge on you?!"

Malfoy looked surprised that she'd ask this, yet also like his secret had just been revealed.

"Well?!" she demanded.

"Wanda Goodrich."

"Huh?"

"She's Wanda Goodrich. Or the ghost of her anyway," Malfoy repeated.

"Oh. Now tell me why she was going to kill me to get revenge on you."

"I really love you. So it would've been really painful for me if you'd died."

"That only partially answers my question," Hermione said, ignoring the fact that he'd just admitting to loving her. "What did you do to her?!"

Malfoy didn't answer. Then it hit her. "No..." she said, slowly. "NO! You didn't!"

He looked up and nodded.

"NO! NO, you DIDN'T!" she screamed, eyes beginning to water.

"Yes, Hermione, I did."

"So... No! I'm not in love with a murderer!" she yelled at the top of her lungs, before running out, back into the cold night.

(TFG: More drama... REVIEW, please!)