Hermione Granger lifted her bushy head off of the pile of books she was studying. It was getting late and she wasn't really sure what she'd just finished reading. It was saying something if even she was drawing the evening to a close. Returning the books to her bag, she stood up and flicked her wand at the candles around the desk. She continued doing this until the Head Dormitory was significantly darker. She considered flicking out the last of the lights, leaving that moron of a Head Boy to stumble his way around the room. With any kind of luck, he'd land in the fire.

She turned on her heel and started up the stairs, flicking her wand over her shoulder and grinning as the remaining candles flickered out.

She took another stead and heard the painting on the wall side open.

Hermione inhaled a deep breath, ready to give Draco Malfoy the telling off of his life. Her slipper clad feet turned and she started down the steps, but momentarily froze as she heard a heavy thud as though he'd walked straight into the wall.

She waited for the characteristic curse or bellow of the silver haired, egotistical…She stopped herself, listening. There was no sound.

An uneasy feeling was sinking heavier and heavier into her chest. His footsteps stumbled in the dark, his large feet dragging across the carpet, then a heavy thump vibrated throughout the room, followed quickly by loud clangs. "Lumos," Hermione hissed. He was trying to rip apart the whole common room.

She held her wand high above her head, allowing the light to fill the dark corners. Then she saw him. Malfoy laying face down on the floor.

Hermione rolled her eyes and hurried towards him. "Do you have any concept of time…" she began as she walked down the stairs. She flicked her wand at the candles and muttered a spell, two flickered to life.

Malfoy's silver blonde hair was a mess atop his head, his arms and legs sprawled out to the side.

Hermione placed her wand atop the table and nudged him with her foot. "This is what you get for setting a bad example. Honestly, Malfoy, drinking, I thought you'd know better."

But he didn't move.

Hermione's face twisted slightly and she pressed harder into his side.

Still, nothing.

"Malfoy, you pompous, lethargic—" She knelt down next to him, and her blood chilled. Malfoy had always been incredibly pale. It was almost as though it was a trademark, but now he looked completely washed out. His lips were even tinged blue.

An unstoppable amount of panic clutched across her chest. This was not right. This was horribly, horribly wrong.

"Malfoy, wake up. Ennervate." Her fingers were wrapped around her wand, but still nothing. Hermione stood up quickly and bolted out of the common room.

She knew the hallways well, she was in her seventh year after all. And in her panic, she needn't think. Her feet carried her past the portraits of sleeping professors, some who called questions or comments after her, but she didn't bother to stop until she was in front of the great stone Gargoyle.

She stared at it and wished that there was something as simple as an intercom. "Ton Tongue Toffee," she murmured to get herself thinking. But was pleasantly shocked when the Gargoyle began to move.

Her fingers were trembling as she reached for the knocker.

One, two, three, loud clangs.

The door opened almost immediately.

"Professor Dumbledore!" she gasped, her breath was short. "It's...Malfoy…he…just…collapsed!"

He said nothing, but nodded his head. "Lead the way, Miss Granger."

Down the corridors they went. She wished he would say something, anything, but he seemed intent on keeping instep with her. No longer able to stand the silence Hermione took a deep breath. "He just collapsed Professor. I didn't think he'd make it back to the common room tonight, and I put out all the lights." Though she was still short of breath from running, and not having and easy time catching her breath again, she couldn't stop herself. "I heard him come in. He hit something, then I lit my wand, and found him. His lips are blue!"

They'd reached the portrait hole and Hermione gasped the password, "Hellebore."

Dumbledore swept past her into the common room. With a wave of his hand, the candles round the room instantly lit. Hermione got an even better view of Malfoy. Though, she couldn't say she honestly wanted it. He was just as pale as he looked in her wand light, his eyes were closed and he appeared very still.

"Miss Granger, return to Gryffindor Common room. Professor McGonagall will meet with you shortly."

Hermione looked blankly at Professor Dumbledore as he pointed his wand at Malfoy. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Return to Gryffindor," he stated softly.

Hermione turned and quickly took her exit.

She went into Gryffindor and seated herself in a large chair across from the fire, which was slowly dwindling away. Her eyes locked on the glowing embers and she slowly let out a long breath. Her hands pulled a throw off the back of the couch. She curled her legs up underneath her, and wondered why she could not stop shaking.

As the last of the flames licked at the back of the fireplace she realized what it was. To actually see someone in the state she'd seen Malfoy, only threw into sharp realization what was so easy to forget while within the safety of the castle. Outside of the Hogwarts walls, the beginning of the most horrible war the Wizarding World had ever known was brewing.

The portrait covering swung open and Professor McGonagall walked into the room.

Hermione knew what she was going to say before she said it.

"Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy is—"

"Dead," she interrupted flatly.

"Hermione," a voice whispered softly, a warm hand on her shoulder.

Her eyes fluttered open and she was staring into the face of Harry Potter. She blinked against the bright sunlight that filtered through the room and pulled herself upright.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked.

Last night's events came flooding back and Hermione pressed her fingers to her temples. "Where's Ron?"

The red headed Weasley answered her question himself, as he came down the stairs humming a song. His eyes fell on Hermione and Harry and he raised his eyebrows. "What you doing here, Hermione?"

She pushed the blanket off her lap and looked around, then glanced at her watch. Everyone should already be down to breakfast now. "Sit down, both of you," she commanded, standing up.

The boys raised their eyebrows but sat silently as she told them what happened.

"You're joking," Ron breathed, there was no denying it, he was smirking.

Hermione shook her head.

Harry's face was as difficult to read as Professor McGonagall's. "Are you sure?"

"McGonagall told me," she answered.

A chattering group of first years entered the room. Hermione stood up. "C'mon, lets go get breakfast."

Each of them were lost in their own thoughts as they went down to the Great Hall. They walked through the double doors and instantly noticed the thick hush that hung over the students. Black draperies hung around the walls, and students seemed too terrified to talk.

Hermione walked straight forward and selected her usual seat at the Gryffindor table. Harry and Ron took a place on either side of her.

"Do you suppose anyone else knows?" Ron asked

Hermione shook her head. "I didn't see anyone in the halls and Dumbledore was the first person I went to."

McGonagall, Flitwick, Hagrid, Trewlawny, and Lupin, were already sitting at the table. Hermione's eyes lingered on Professor Snape's vacant spot. She was half tempted to turn around and see if the Slytherins were at their table, but she instead interested herself with twisting her napkin.

The doors banged open and a stone faced Snape swept up the pathway between the tables, up to the teacher's table where he sat down, glaring at the students.

He knew.

Being the head of Slytherin house, he would have found out last night. Snape had always shown a particular weakness where Malfoy was concerned, so it his reaction wasn't surprising.

Dumbledore finally appeared at the head table and the scattered whispers stopped.

Hermione has heard previous speeches like this. At the end of fourth year a boy named Cedric Diggory had been killed, and Dumbledore had encouraged the students to remember him and what he stood for.

But Hermione couldn't listen to him now. She recited her ruin alphabet to herself, drowning out the reactions, and the remainder of the speech. It wasn't until she felt a hand on her elbow that she realized she'd clamped her eyes shut.

"We've got the day off," Ron stated. "Want to head up the Common Room?"

She nodded, ignoring that sinking feeling. She'd been looking forward to classes not only because she enjoyed the work, but because it would occupy her mind.

"Did he say what happened to him?" she couldn't stop herself from asking once they were inside Gryffindor Tower.

Harry raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

"We were gonna ask you," Ron answered.

Harry lowered the card game he'd removed from the closet and stared at her. "You all right, Hermoine? You haven't said much."

"I'm in shock, I guess, the way he stumbled into the room. I'd figured he was drunk. I was thinking he was starting his weekend a day early."

Harry and Ron said nothing. Not that there was anything to say.

The weekend went better than Friday had. Hermione busied herself pouring over her text books, and keeping in company of Ron and Harry. Late Sunday evening, she had a meeting with Professor Dumbledore who informed her that he was not going to fill the Head Boy position. Instead, he asked her to encourage the Prefects to step up as examples. Hermione, who was feeling like herself once again, assured him that she would be able to handle it.

Though, sleeping in her dormitory for the first time on Sunday evening would not have happened if it hadn't been for Crookshanks.

On Monday morning, she met the guys in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, her backpack swung over her shoulder, and smile on her face. "Good morning."

"Don't see what's so good 'bout it," Ron muttered. "Double Potions."

"Ron, it's NEWT year, we'll need all the information we can get."

"It's not even the third week of school and she's already talking about exams," Ron proclaimed, walking ahead of her.

Hermione started to retort something about the importance of the exams, when she stopped. Her body actually refused to move.

There was a boy standing across the hall from Ron, glaring at him. His silvery blonde hair and sallow skin looked paler than ever, along with his robes. Everything about him seemed as though it'd been faded back in color, even the Slytherin crest patch on his chest. "That's right Weasel-be," he sneered. "Start your whining already, you haven't got a chance do you?"

But Ron paid no attention to him. He continued talking as though nothing had been said.

Crabbe and Goyle came down the stairs, towards the Gryffindors.

Hermione's head snapped towards them, then back to the boy taunting Ron. They'd heard the news, they knew that he shouldn't be here, yet, they walked right past him!

"Crabbe, Goyle," Malfoy called, his smirk widening. "Let's remind Weasel-be of his place." The smirk faded as his friends didn't turn around or even hesitate.

The door to the dungeon swung open and the crowd surged forward. Hermione lost sight of him in the crowd. She rubbed fiercely at her eyes, sure off of her studying had finally cracked her brain.

But Malfoy still stood once the hallway was empty, his face had fallen and he looked almost…well…pouty. He started towards the classroom, then noticed Hermione.

"What are you staring at, Mudblood?" he snarled.

A squeak popped out of Hermione's mouth as her jaw dropped. "Are…are you really…?"

"Really what?" barked Malfoy.

"Who are you talking to?" Ron asked coming out into the hallway.

"Me, you idiot, or are you too poor to have your eyes examined."

Hermione snapped her head in Ron's direction and gestured feebly towards Malfoy. She waited for a comeback.

Ron raised his eyebrows and followed her gaze, then looked slowly back at Hermione. "You feeling okay?"

There was that look. That very same look she and Ron had given Harry in fifth year when he kept insisting there were horses pulling the school carriages. Ron couldn't see him, Ron couldn't see Malfoy!

"I'll be in there in a minute," she barely whispered.

Ron nodded. "Right…" and went back into the room.

"Weasel-be's so poor he can't even afford to pay attention," Malfoy growled, stepping forward.

Hermione slowly shook her head. "Malfoy, you're supposed to be dead!"

AN: Sorry it was so long! Figured it should all be out there. But if you read this far, why not review? If you liked, review! If you didn't, review and tell me why! I'd really like to know what everyone thinks.

Is it a waste of time?

Oh yeah, this thing: Disclaimer. Characters not mine, thoughI really really wish, but the master herself owns them all.