Thanks once again to Fire Fairy for finding more spelling mistakes in the last chapter.

I'm sorry for the long wait, but I have had a horrible case of writers block lately.

The next few days went by as normally as one could hope for in Hogwarts. Hermione was extremely paranoid though, but could you blame her. Dean was still locked up in the hospital wing; they didn't want to take any risks that he may still be under the influence of the spell. Most of the school knew nothing about what had happened, and were proving that ignorance truly is bliss. Hermione wished she could be that ignorant, have no worries, ect. Security had been stepped up and most of the professors were sure that nothing like this could happen again. Classes went by as usual, nothing truly eventful happened. The rest of the week went by as boring as could be, until on Friday afternoon Hermione went to visit Dean. Madame Pomfrey didn't approve at all, saying things like it would be to exciting for a boy who needed his rest. Everything she said was just her usual worry-wortness of course, had there actually been a real problem Dumbledore would never allow Hermione to go see Dean. Even though Dean was perfectly fine, except for the traumatic experience of being forced to do something like that, Hermione was nervous about seeing him, what would she say, what would he say. So, after last class Hermione walked slowly towards the hospital wing, dreading every step. Once she got their, Madame Pomfrey was waiting, she took her to a bed in a secluded area of the room. Dean looked perfectly normal at first, but a closer inspection showed red marks along his arms. The bed rails had metal clamps, used to hold him down until the spell wore off. And it seemed like he had put up quite a fight. If it weren't for Madame Pomfrey's excellent spells, Dean would probably still have angry, deep, red gashes on his arms.

"Hey Dean," Hermione said.

"Hey, I'm surprised you came to see me, after what I did, too you." Dean looked like he was in an extreme amount of pain, not physical pain, but emotional. Hermione realized that Dean was worse then her, and having nothing to do all day but sit in this corner and think about what he had done probably didn't help at all. At lest she had classes to keep her busy. So Hermione did the only thing she could think of doing, she grabbed Deans hand.

"Oh Dean, it wasn't your fault at all, you had no way to protect yourself form that spell, I don't blame you at all and"

"But Mione, I almost, I don't think I could have lived with my self if I had, I'm scared that it will happen again."

But it won't Dean; in fact I think Dumbledore is organizing a new class so we can learn to defend our selves against this spell. It will all be ok."

"Thanks for coming here Mione; I know it must have been hard for you to,"

Hermione simply smiled at him and then walked out. When she got to the great hall she was bombarded with questions from Draco, Harry and Ron. After answering the questions as best she could, 'Yes she was fine'; 'no Dean was not under Lucius spell any longer', ect, Hermione finally got to eat. She must have had at least four helpings of super, and five brownies before Draco dragged her from the table, she couldn't believe she was so hungry, she hadn't eaten that much in one sitting, well ever. That should have been the first sign that something was wrong, but no one thought that Lucius could possibly be stupid enough to strike again. Of course, it seemed that stupid was Lucius's middle name. Hermione developed a slight cough, nothing anyone thought was to incredibly serious. When it got a little bit worse she simply went to Madame Pomfrey for some pepper-up potion. That seemed to get rid of it, until Hermione climbed in to bed or more precisely, while she was sleeping. It seemed to get extremely hot, and no mater how many blankets she took off, she couldn't cool down. That's when the fever set in, followed by brief fainting spells and tormenting nightmares. Draco came into Hermione's room when he heard he weak moans and frightened shrieks in the middle of the night. When he realized she was sick he ran as fast as he could to the hospital wing, probably breaking a couple of Olympic records.

"Madame Pomfrey, Madame Pomfrey, wake up!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.

Madame Pomfrey came out in her heavy nightgown with her finger pressed to her lips. "Hush child, why on earth are you screaming at 2:30 in the morning? Are you trying to wake the whole school up?"

"It's Hermione, something's wrong. She's got a burning fever and and. just come," Draco said everything in breath then took off running again back to the room, with Madame Pomfrey following close behind. Once they got to Hermione, Madame Pomfrey sent Draco to Dumbledore, who then sent Draco back to the hospital wing to get some strong healing potions. By the time he had made it back to the room he was completely exhausted but that didn't matter to him at all, as long as Hermione was alright. He couldn't have rested anyway; his mind was all in tangles asking 'what if' kinds of questions like 'what if she doesn't get better?', and 'what if she dies tonight?'. Madame Pomfrey forced him into the living room, where he sat perfectly still until Dumbledore came out.

"Miss Granger is extremely sick, Mr. Malfoy," he stated. Draco felt a cold grip of fear wash over him.

"How sick, professor?" he stuttered, dreading the answer.

"If things don't improve soon, it is doubtful she will live until tomorrow night." Draco couldn't believe what he was hearing, how she could be dying. It was as if his insides were being ripped out. Dumbledore continued by saying, "If we can't get her immediate professional medical help, she has no chance. I want you to write an owl to her parents, they deserve to know what may happen." At that Dumbledore turned and went back into Hermione's room.

Draco walked quickly to the owlery; once he got there he had no idea what to write.

"How can I write to them, 'Dear Mr. and Mrs. Granger, this is Draco Malfoy, Hermione's boy friend. Your daughter is deathly ill with some sort of horrible wizard's disease courtesy of my father.' Ya right, that will go over well. They probably don't even know were going out," He said to himself. "I can't believe this is happening, I promise to make Lucius pay if Hermione doesn't live. I'll hunt him down and rip him a part slowly; starting with the part he'll miss most." (A/N- can you guess the part, lol) At that, Draco wrote the letter as best he could.

(A/N- the letter will be in brackets)

(Dear Mr. and Mrs. Granger,), 'Well that's a good star I guess' thought Draco as he laid sprawled out on the stone floor, not even felling the coldness of it. (I am writing to you under extremely tragic circumstances, if you are not already sitting down I would advise you to do so before reading on. The tragic circumstances I'm writing about involve your daughter. As of today, she has fallen extremely ill from a spell cast by a powerful wizard. We are currently doing everything we can to help her, but if her condition does not improve soon she may not make it) It was a little mean he supposed, but he had no idea how to sugar coat something like this. (We will write to you the second something changes. If you have any questions or wish to arrange transportation to the school, please contact Professor Dumbledore. I am truly sorry about the shortness and abruptness of this letter, but I am exceptionally upset at the moment for I am involved with you daughter, and cannot think clearly. Sincerely Draco Malfoy) 'Well it's not too bad' Draco thought as he tied the letter to his owl's leg and sent it off. Then he turned and rushed back to Hermione.

(A/N- keep on reviewing.)