I don't own any rights to Harry Potter, I did not creature any of the characters, place names (cept for London and Yorkshire and Kings Cross, I didn't create those either, but neither did JK Rowling) or magic spells or any other things, you all know JK Rowling did. Worship her as I do.









"Harry? Harry, please, don't run away from me! Whatever Draco said it was a lie! Harry, please!" Hermione was jogging around up and down the staircases, hoping she could find Harry. No one responded, expect for Peeves who cackled from the ceiling and was about to throw a book at her, but Hermione absently raised her wand, and muttering a few words, set the book to beating him upside the head.

With that distraction gone, Hermione found her way up to the hallway of the Gryffindor tower.

"Oh my, Hermione, what's going on? Harry's absolutely livid!" the Fat Lady was squirming in her frame, torn between concern and excitement over the new gossip.

Hermione jerked around from peering off down towards a hallway of unused classrooms when the painting spoke. "Nevermind. Balthazar." Hermione snapped out the password and pulled herself into the hole behind.

Harry hadn't even put away his broom. He was in front of her, facing away into the fire. The dancing flames cast a strange silhouette around his blood red robes. His shoulder were held unnaturally straight, and he still wore even his gloves.

"Harry?" she spoke very quietly, suddenly aware of how much he had grown. He was not anything like the skinny eleven year old boy she had first met. She had never been aware how strong he actually was, not until now. He scared her, especially when his shoulders twitched when she said his name.

Inhaling deeply to find her courage, Hermione approached him. Her hands wrought together infront of her as she stood beside him, staring into the flames. For a while they just stood in silence, in the shadows, trying to find comfort by just being there together as friends, though troubled.

It was Harry who spoke first. His voice rasped softer than the crackling of the burning wood, but she heard every breath he took. "I know you never wanted to hurt us, Hermione. I know he was making you. I was never angry with you. I hate him. And I hate myself for not being able to protect you, for not seeing you needed help. I hate myself for not protecting you, for not stepping between you and taking whatever he could throw at me. I hate myself for being afraid of him."

Hermione remained quiet, though the flames had blurred with the tears in her eyes. Harry felt like it was his fault. Some part of her wanted him to take the blame, maybe it would stop the empty feeling inside of her. But no, she knew better than that. "I wasn't strong enough to stand up for myself, Harry, how could you have known I needed help, when I wouldn't even admit it to myself?" How could I have enjoyed how he touched me? She wanted to ask him, but kept it only in her mind. Slouching against Harry, Hermione was relieved when he didn't shrink back, when instead he settled his arms around her, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"He didn't ever...?" Harry started, his voice cracking as he tried to force the question out.

Hermione shook her head. Harry didn't need to know details. "No, Harry. I'm all right, now." Her own voice was faint as she struggled within herself to put the rage that bubbled up inside of her away for another time. Right now she had her best friend with her, and she had never felt safer.

Soon they could hear voices outside, and the portrait swinging open. Harry and Hermione had settled in to one of the sofas and were absently petting Crookshanks, who had settled between them. It was a comfortable scene there before the fire, Hermione wished it would stay like that for just a little longer. But once they had been spotted, the talking began.

"You should have seen it!" Lavender rushed over, tugging at Hermione's robes, "Ron came over and decked Draco, they started fighting! No wands, or anything, just fighting! It was amazing. They're both in the hospital wing now, all bloodied up, but it was cool."

"Hagrid broke it up! But Malfoy got it worse, Hagrid made sure he only stopped them before Draco could get Ron good. I got pictures!" Colin was jumping up and down, clutching his camera.

"It was wicked!" Seamus chimed in. "McGonagall told me to tell you to two go see her at once, then you can go see Ron, too."

Harry and Hermione were looking at each other. Ron, fight Draco? With just his fists? Draco was obviously stronger, but then again, they both new how Ron could get when he was angry. Rising from the sofa, they both shuffled past the crowd of excited Gryffindors and headed out towards McGonagall's office, first walking quickly, then jogging, then at an all out run.

McGonagall met them outside her door. She was looking flushed, and the crease of her lips was the thinnest Harry and Hermione had ever seen it. She gave them both very sharp looks and cleared her throat. "We have all heard the rumours by now, Hermione. But before I take any action, I want to hear it straight from you."

Hermione tensed immediately. This was not something she would feel comfortable telling anyone, especially professor McGonagall. Harry didn't ask for specifics. She almost wanted to turn and ask him to leave, but she couldn't, not when he layed a comforting hand on her shoulder and forced himself to try and smile at her. Nodding slowly, Hermione drew her eyes back to the professor. "Draco approached... No, he cornered me that night Harry and Ron slept in my dorm. He, ah..." Hermione trailed off, feeling every inch of her skin burn with shame. She wanted to shrink back, to just walk away from it all, but she knew she couldn't do it. She had tried, and it had solved nothing. "He kissed me. I didn't want him to. He threatened that if I didn't do whatever he wanted he would hurt Harry and Ron."

McGonagall's cheeks drained of any colour, and her lips pursed even more tightly, if that was possible. Once again she looked like she was fighting with herself to reach out to Hermione, and to ack professionally. Harry made the decision for her when his hand tightened on Hermione's shoulder and he moved closer. Hermione had someone to protect her now.

"Did Malfoy force you to do anything... Did he make you..." McGonagall couldn't seem to force it out either, she was spluttering over the words with her own barely contained rage.

Hermione once again shook her head. "No, professor." Somehow, it seemed easier this time. Maybe because she had already told Harry, the person she feared would take it the worst. Other than Ron, anyways. She knew she had to tell him, part of her wanted to run the other way, out of the castle and find her way home to the solace her parents and the muggle world could give her, but the rest of her knew she had to face him, she owed him that.

McGonagall nodded, looking very much relieved. "You know then, there is not much of a chance he will be expelled." This obviously displeased her very much, but she also knew it was out of her hands. As emotionally traumatic as the whole incident was to the three children, there was nothing really 'wrong' done. Severus would not expel Malfoy for it, and Dumbledore would probably love to, but it was not his decision. It would have been easier if Draco had forced himself on Granger, but at the same time McGonagall was extremely alleviated that he had not. "All right then, off with you, go see Weasley. Tell Poppy I said you were allowed if she makes a fuss."

Harry responded for the both of them, and steered Hermione towards the hospital wing. She seemed to have stiffened up even more, but he could understand that. Talking to Ron would be very difficult, especially with Malfoy around. Hopefully had was knocked out. If not, Harry was seriously considering if anyone would notice him holding a pillow over Malfoy's face.

The walked through the hallways in silence, no one approached them, not even Peeves, he still seemed afraid of Hermione. Once he had seen them he cackled, though this was a nervous sound, and had zoomed off through a wall. Harry didn't even seem to notice.

When they arrived at the doors to the Hospital wing, Harry finally released her shoulder. He saw Hermione inhale deeply, and trailed behind her when she mustered up enough courage and stepped through the doors.

Madame Pomfrey glanced at them from where she was leaning over a (thankfully) unconcious Malfoy. She darted her eyes to where Ron sat in his bed, glaring out a window.

Harry hung back while Hermione approached Ron. He wanted to stand with her, to show Ron he still believed in her, but Ron had to forgive her himself. Obviously he knew now that it wasn't Hermione's fault, but still. Harry himself was still angry with her. He knew he would be for a long time, but he had forgiven her. Hopefully Ron would, too.

"Ron?" Hermione squeaked out as she paused at the foot of his bed. He slowly turned to look at her. His face was swollen, he had a large cut over his eyebrow. And he was crying. Streaks that had already dried had cut a path through the dirt and blood down his cheeks. His eyes seemed strange. Distant. It took a moment for him to focus on her, and when he finally did realize Hermione was standing there, he slumped down, hiding his face in his hands.

Hermione dropped down on the edge of his bed and very carefully touched his knee. "Ron, I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. But I did. I was too afraid of him to make him stop. I know you might not forgive me, but I hope you'll at least understand."

Ron slowly raised his head. His eyes peirced right through her, made her breath catch in her throat. "He didn't make you sleep with him, did he?" His voice was cold and very blunt, he sounded as if he were on the edge of something, and he wanted her to either pull him back, or push him over.

Hermione dropped her eyes down to her lap. Why did everyone keep asking her that? Curling her fingers in her robes, she slowly shook her head. "He didn't... force me." she admitted in a tiny voice.