Hermione whispered the requisite seven passwords that undid the locking spells to her bedroom. One of the few benefits of being a Hogwarts prefect was a room to herself. She stepped in, rearming the locks and throwing the bolt. "'Lumos'" Hermione's wand lit and she gave the room a cursory search. Undressing quickly, she climbed into bed, retrieving the letter from her bag.

Upon breaking the seal, the letter appeared to read that Alastor Le Grange had won the sweepstakes. Hermione smiled. She kissed the parchment, whispering, "Draco Dormiens." The ink shimmered and blurred, condensing into the precise, slicing script Hermione knew so well.

My Dearest Hermione,
This should be a love letter. It is not. Forgive me, please. The thought of you sustains me through every hour of every day. Merlin knows I need it.
You must stay safe. If they raid Hogwarts (later, rather than sooner, I think) they will be after you and Potter. Durmstrang is getting restless and everyone is desperate to prove themselves.
Lucius has given you his undivided attention. It would not be advisable for you to go home for the holidays. Your parents are safe, as am I, if only through ties of blood and Galleons.
The Slytherin fire is lighting both causes. Very few at Durmstrang are undecided now. I imagine it is the same at Hogwarts. If I can get another letter through, it will be along the path this one came. Perhaps through Sebastian or Claris. Snape is too closely watched. You can trust him with your life, though. And mine.
Bill and Charlie Weasley are still alive, but barely. Give Ron my apologies and condolences, if he will accept them, this time. Beauxbatons remains neutral.
I do not know when I will get back to Hogwarts, or whether it will be in a mask or not. Keep your fire burning and be prepared for anything. Always remember, I love you, and if you call for me, I will come, though hell should bar the way,
D. X.

Hermione sat back, a bit dazed. She could almost hear Draco speaking the words, his voice soft and low and very urgent.

Dumbledore was already protecting Harry: he no longer played Quidditch and never went anywhere without a phalanx of Gryffindors. But Hermione knew as well as the Headmaster that Hogwarts was both the safest and most dangerous place for the Boy Who Lived. It had turned into a school for Aurors, but not everyone was as opposed to Voldemort as they professed.

Draco Malfoy offering Ron Weasley apologies and condolences. Something one didn't see every day, but not uncalled for; the Weasley family had felt untold grief and pressure in the last year. Bill and Charlie had been presumed missing in action. Percy was working twelve-hour days as the youngest ever Junior Minister of Magical Law Enforcement. Fred had been killed in the field as an Auror and George, a shadow of the fun-loving mischief-maker she had known, was teaching Charms at Hogwarts after the demise of Professor Flitwick. Ron was working harder than she had ever seen him at his schoolwork after begging to be allowed to finish his last year in England when Ginny was sent to Beauxbatons. He rarely spoke to Hermione, having not yet forgiven her for the fiasco last year. In that he had the company of half of Hogwarts.