Hello. Special thanks to midnightwanderer01, Swtndreamypnay (I'm glad you agree), Kandice, Paradoxical-Dreams, and Talia Treves. I'm sorry if you find the angst disappointing, though the summary wasn't exactly happy go lucky. Perhaps I should have labeled this story under drama or angst. However, I find that general allows me to have the room of broadening the scope instead of just one overriding tone. In warning to future readers, "Least Likely" will likely have it's depressing moments. Bear with me since it's just the beginning where the stage is set with Hermione's ordeal. But if you're worried about lack of happiness in the future, I wouldn't worry too much (wink).

You know what bugs me? And this is a little heart to heart with a writer and her lovely reviewers. I have 14 reviews and 16 people have put me on their favorites. Okay, does something seem wrong with that? Look, if you like it enough (which I'm very glad you do!) to put in your favorites list, can you not like it enough to spare 30 seconds and write a review? And to those who have so far, thank you! Do you think I'm being unfair in what I just said?

It would seem some of you are a bit curious of Harry's behavior. You'll just have to find out, now won't you? Speaking of finding out, here is the fourth installment. Knock yourselves out.

Least Likely: Part Fourth

She stood before the full length mirror, dressed in a simple nightgown of sky blue that flowed over her full curves. She frowned. She had lost a bit of weight this past week, sometimes not even remembering her need of food. In all honesty, she felt as ugly as she could possibly be. Her hair looked limp, body lanky though short, eyes dull and skin paler than ever. At least that's what she was seeing.

But it wasn't like that before…

Of course before, she was a free soul, wandering the depths of a fortunate life. It was unusual to be laughing less than not when they weren't being threatened by some lurking evil. Who knew such evil would be in the form that it was? It made sense, though. Probably so much that no one truly thought about it too much.

Her friends really were being wonderful to her; more than she deserved. But something told her that it would take longer for the words and touches would actually reach her. Maybe never to reach her soul.

'They' still possessed it.

If she wasn't so lost, she may have been angry.

Her memory was blotched and painful, dreams in the night that only gave random scenes of a broken story. She knew why. They held her mind and slowly were feeding her the thoughts she both craved and despised.

No! She had to be strong…if not for herself, than at least for her concerned friends. She had to be Hermione. Know-it-all, bookworm, warm-hearted, strict but no-so-strict Hermione Granger. She could at least be that for the world where less judgment could be brought upon her. Where masks were easily worn. She had to have a fragment of her life back.

And the night would possess her soul. In the night where she was nearly alone, she could fall beneath the weight of her suffering.

Hermione fell into a boneless heap of weeping before the mirror, her reflection mocking.

O O

Draco Malfoy stormed into the Slytherin Common Room, both determined and angry. He would not be fooled!

Curse the whispers. They were his to control and no one would sly away from his eyes.

When he had spoken briefly to Granger…he saw it. Her eyes clouded with some unknown spell, body hardly able to take the damage being done to her mind. He had seen that before in some form and knew it wasn't good at all.

Spotting Blaise laughing in the corner with a couple of attractive girls, Draco towered over him, the whole atmosphere suddenly darkening. "Stand up," he gritted out. Blaise seemed to be mocking him with his eyes.

"What can I do for you, Draco?"

"Stand up!"

He grabbed Blaise by the collar, lifting him a couple of inches above the floor. The girls that were once being charmed, now gasped in horror.

"I know it was you, Zabini. You did something to her that shouldn't have been done without consulting me. You can't just mess around with anyone without weighing the consequences. Have you forgotten who she is? What did you do?"

Blaise just stared him in the eyes, a silent rage burning behind his own. "If you would kindly release me, Malfoy, it would be much appreciated."

Draco threw him to the floor with a sickening thud, stepping closer to his fallen form. "You," he spat out and then looked around the room of Slytherins. "All of you are under my watch and authority. Or have you forgotten what happened last time you tried to defy a Malfoy? I am not as low as my Father, but I am as dangerous." His attention went back to Blaise. "I will find out, Zabini and you better hope that when I do, you are well and ready. You can't hide anything from me and you cannot keep anything from me."

Draco was leaving the room when Blaise's shouts came back at him

"Don't be a fool, Malfoy! She's mine now. Mind and soul…something no one else will ever 'keep' again."

OO

Ginny sighed again for the thousandth time as she brushed her hair that morning. Life could be so confusing! She glanced over at Hermione who was sleeping in her bed. Her heart broke for her over and over again. It was obvious that she was trying to act like normal Hermione, but even the words of scolding Ron for not finishing his homework seemed empty.

Her mind wandered back to last week and the conversation with the Fat Lady. She sighed again. That was confusing, too.

A boy carrying her friend in? And the Fat Lady told her he didn't seem threatening at all so she let him inside. Blonde hair, tall, handsome, but it was dark, too. Who knows? But she thought she spotted his Slytherin badge on the cloak.

This time her sigh turned into a grunt.

There were plenty of blonde, tall, and handsome guys at Hogwarts.

Should she feel bad that she had immediately thought of Draco Malfoy?

Ginny laughed. In all their history, Malfoy was mean and hurtful, but had never once tried to a lay a hand on Hermione. And lately he had seemed to given up on upsetting her. She could picture him heartless in his words, but to damage someone so badly?

On the other hand, he was both Slytherin and a Malfoy. Neither would he "unthreatening" like carry Hermione to her Common Room.

Confusing!

And because it was, she hadn't told Harry or Ron of what she learned. Of course they would hastily draw conclusions and go to beat someone up. Followed quickly by a mass number of detentions and uncertainty if they actually beat the right person up.

Ginny set her brush down and with one last look at Hermione, walked out to the Common Room.

"Ginny!"

She whipped around in surprise. "Hey, Harry," she smiled brightly at him. But it turned to a frown when she saw how tired and worn he looked. "How is she?"

There was a weird pang feeling in her heart at his words, but she quickly pushed it aside. "She's…sleeping," she offered weakly, not really sure how to describe what was really going on. But Harry understood.

"Oh, Ginny…" He sunk into a chair, head in his hands. "She's barely talked to me. Just gives me that sweet smile and keeps walking. Why?" His last word was choked and his shoulders began to shake.

Ginny stared in horror. Was Harry really crying? In front of her? What was she supposed to do? After a few agonizing moments, she couldn't bare to just watch anymore.

She knelt to her knees in front of him, taking both his hands in hers and looking into his green, tear filled eyes. "Harry, she just needs us right now to be what we are. She'll recover, I know and perhaps us just acting…us, is enough. You're her dear friend and even if she doesn't say it, she appreciates and loves you."

That broke him.

He fell in her ready arms, tears falling into her brushed hair. It was rather bittersweet, really.

She finally held Harry Potter, whose heart was now aching for another girl.

OO

Dinner was awkward that night. Everyone was just trying to act like they thought they should but everyone knew the other was just faking. But it was almost nice, for each knew the other was trying to help them. And so they ate in an almost peace, hoping that the next time they did, it would improve.

Draco sat in the library after dinner, reading up on a Potions assignment. Though his eyes scanned the words, his mind was far off.

He kept hearing Zabini's words in his head and it was unnerving him. What could he have meant? Zabini didn't think of Granger in a romantic way (definitely not!), so it couldn't have been that. Perhaps his words were true?

Draco looked up when he heard a noise. Speak of the devil.

There she was, Hermione Granger, sitting a few tables off from him, her head buried in a large book. He took the time to observe her. Hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, cloak slung across her lap, and slouched over. He noted she looked thinner and less…well, like herself. He glanced around. The library was fairly empty and he could tell by the way her eyes would twitch in different directions that she wasn't really paying attention.

This would be a perfect time.

He rose from his seat.