Hello. Special thanks to Swtndreamypnay, Zelz Saihitei, Kandice, Paradoxical-Dreams, sakuralilystars, YoukoElfMaiden, and gpotter. I acknowledge you all with gratitude for your time. I'm sorry if this story is rather slow in the development of the characters, but I find that the writing I respect most is when I read it drawn out. You see, it makes stories feel more complete instead of leaving some important step out. Also, I may update less frequently take make longer chapters, but you can tell me what you think about that. If I did, it would still be like once a week. Anyway, I hope this next chapter is also worth it to you.

Least Likely: Part Three

She was afraid to open her eyes. The moment her mind awoken, bits of memories flashed like small shards of glass against skin. At least she hadn't received the full blow yet; the bleeding caused to lessen considerably. Her head was fuzzy and her body ached, telling her that something definitely wasn't right.

No, it wasn't time to wake yet for she felt that she was not quite prepared for whatever faced her at that moment. She just wasn't ready…but a little sleep sounded awfully nice…

Harry watched as Hermione drifted in and out of slumber, his heart clenching each time she murmured troubled words beneath her breath. She was tossing about fitfully, as if fighting some unknown monster inside of her dreams.

He was told not to try and pull her out of her state. Something about her need of rest so that she was even the most mentally prepared for taking in whatever had happened. Oh, how he wished he knew! And just as much he wanted to know who did it. Oh, he had his ideas on it, but it frightened him to think it might be true. The Slytherins could be a nasty bunch and he wouldn't put it past them, even if something like this hadn't occurred in the past. But he dared not to think it might have something to do with…he just couldn't think about it. Not his beautiful, innocent Hermione with her gentle eyes and free spirit.

He sighed heavily, leaning back in a chair that after sitting in it for hours on end seemed insufferable.

Ron had gone to gather some dinner for the lot of them. Harry looked over to see Ginny resting her head on the end of Hermione's bed. When she had returned from whatever walk she had taken yesterday, she began acting rather funny. Not looking him in the eye, and staring intently at Hermione until falling asleep along with her. To tell the truth, it was a little suspicious…

He shook his head. No…of all of them, she was surprisingly handling the situation with the most amount of calm and maturity. His eyes softened and a hint of a smile curved the side of his lip. She really had a matured a good deal over the past few years.

His mood brightened just a bit. And Hermione would supposedly be released soon since with the help of magic, her bruises were quickly healing. He hoped she woke up soon…

Harry was about to delve into more deep and fragile thoughts of his best friend when a monstrous growl tore through the room with a loud rumble. Ginny started awake, shot up, and looked about wildly. "What? I know nothing!" Then she slowly turned to Harry. He was staring at her bashfully, face as red as her flaming hair. His embarrassment weighed out his thought of the odd confession she just involuntarily made. "Uh…I guess I'm a bit hungry…"

Draco lay on his back, palms beneath his head while on the bed. Four days had passed since the "incident" and yet no one would leave him in peace. Not that they intentionally bugged him about it, but he caught the whispers and even if he didn't want to know, heard of the mudblood's condition update each today.

He growled, turning over onto his stomach and pushing his face into the pillow. He'd even dreamt of her. How incredibly infuriating. According to Pansy's information, Granger was to be released that morning. Which meant she might be at breakfast. Which also meant he'd hear even more of her. Which meant he might strangle her for her unintentional life gossip column featuring…her!

But if he really were to admit the truth to himself (which he successfully hadn't so far), he would realize that though there was that immediate distaste for the girl, that wasn't why he was so angry. Every time he was reminded of her, his thoughts strayed back to that cursed night. The night he actually did something that didn't involve tormenting her.

Draco sat up, massaging his temple with the tips of his fingers. He would simply ignore her. Yes, that would be easy considering he wasn't having a hard time of it before this mess.

Now, a blueberry muffin was certainly calling his name and he simply couldn't deny it.

Ron gave Harry a pointed look as they walked on either sides of Hermione, who was staring at the floor as if it just said something unexplainably interesting. They were heading for breakfast together, but though this was an every day ritual, it just didn't feel the same way. Hermione was released that morning after she had awoken the night before. Harry had at first wanted to jump for joy when her eyes peeked open and she gave him a tentative smile.

But it was all too apparent that she wasn't about to tell them anything.

He was going to bombard her with a million questions (though Ron didn't hesitate with this), but he knew she would need time. She was quieter and seemed quite a bit out of it, but still sweet and aware in some respects. Like she would look up and squeeze his hands briefly as if to assure him she was actually there.

He meant to protect her from any others making her uncomfortable as well. The whole school knew where she had been the past four days and no doubt were they as curious as ever.

They entered the Great Hall, facing whatever would be ahead of them.

"Look, there she is!"

"Stupid girl isn't even acknowledging a soul."

"Harry Potter…"

"Talking for her."

"Looks like denial…"

"…not eating a thing!"

He wouldn't look. He wouldn't look. He wouldn't! Why would he need to, anyway? They were practically painting a picture for him.

Draco stared at his muffin like it was the devil, his eyes darkening with each word. "Draco, if you want to eat it that badly, just go ahead," Blaise snickered, leaning back in his chair. "Honestly, what could be bothering you?"

Draco diverted his attention from the intolerable muffin to glare at him. His smirk vanished and the two stared fiercely at each other as if a silent conversation was passing. A realization passed through him. The boy was actually challenging him! Blaise knew something he didn't. And it angered him greatly. It had to do with Granger and for the first time since that night, he wanted to know what had happened and why.

He turned to the Gryffindor table, knowing exactly where she was. She was staring at her plate of food as he had been earlier, but a blank expression on her face. Harry was sitting a little closer than normal, talking wildly to the people around her as if to save her from further suffering. Draco almost laughed at the pretty site. Oh, how terribly noble of Harry Potter.

Suddenly she looked up as if feeling his watch. She was gazing directly into his eyes, with only a hint of recognition. But she seemed distracted, eyes suddenly darting in different directions. It turned to a frown and she almost immediately whispered something to Harry then stood and headed for the exit. He didn't follow.

Draco had decided on a whim what he was going to do and it would start with her. Blaise wouldn't get the best of him. Not ever. He would figure out everything and show him that Draco Malfoy still held power over the Slytherins.

He left the Great Hall.

Nothing would escape from his knowledge.

Hermione tried not to break into a run as she steadily moved through the halls. Her heart was beating wildly and head spinning uncontrollably. She kept moving, hoping that the further she got away, the less pain she would feel.

All she had done was look over at the Slytherin table. At first she thought only Draco Malfoy was staring, but she felt the others…felt their sick amusement at what they could still do. They would always be able to do…forever.

Ever since she had awoken, unbidden memories would swell in her mind, taking control. But they were never complete and it unnerved her to great heights. She couldn't remember and wanted to, but what she did, she didn't want to keep.

Her breathing was ragged and uneven and her feet began to stumble. She fell into the wall limp. Away.

"Granger."

Her head whipped around in surprise, followed quickly by a gasp. "Malfoy?"

His face suddenly brought on a torrent of thoughts and emotions. Flashes…torn pictures…

He was picking her up…

…holding onto her…

that odd, surprised look…

A face she had never seen before.

Suddenly she was falling.

Draco watched as she tried to pick up her own feet. But she seemed too interested in trying to burn holes through his head. "Why?" she rasped out in difficulty, grasping her neck and struggling to stand.

He pretended her didn't know what she was talking about and in distraction, moved forward. He grasped her upper arm and hefted her up. She looked up at him, feeling as though this was familiar.

"Now you will know what it's like to have monsters, mudblood. And you will not keep them from me. Understand?"

She was shaking, trying to get away.

"No! No, I don't."

He didn't say anything at first and she couldn't read his face. No compassion. And yet he wasn't smirking evilly at her as if with ill intentions. His grip was firm, but not hurtful.

"You will soon enough."

And then he was gone, leaving her in a still stupor and wondering what had just happened.

Nothing ever made any sense…