Disclaimer: I do not own the great idea of Harry Potter. However, I do own this story!

Hermione swayed to the beat of the music, with her Butterbeer in her hand. Her eyes were closed and she was thinking. What's going to happen…Dumbledore's gone, Harry's gone, we have no way of winning… She bit her lip. No, don't think that way, we can do this. We've still got the DA.

"Well if it isn't Granger," a sly voice said behind her. "Where's ickle Won-Won?"

"Go away, Malfoy, or I'll turn you into a ferret," a smirk hit her lips.

"Is that a threat?" He said, moving closer to her.

"Possibly. It will become more of a threat if you come any closer." She turned towards him, a glare so fierce it could kill. Malfoy uttered a curse under his breath and turned to walk away. Pansy started to follow him. That girl is such a whore… Hermione though.

"Hey," Ginny said, her voice small.

"Hi, Gin, how are you?" Hermione smiled.

"I'm okay," Ginny hadn't been doing so well since Harry left. She hadn't left the Burrow for the majority of the summer holidays.

"He'll come back, Ginny. He loves you, he has to come back." She patted her friend on the back. Ginny sighed.

Hermione hadn't been doing so well since Harry had left either. She was worried, Harry always did the planning, and she was on her own. She had Ron and Ginny, and the rest of the D.A., but it just wasn't the same without Harry. Dumbledore was gone as well. Hermione shut her eyes so they wouldn't fill up and bit her lip again. "Come on, Gin, let's go back to my place."

"Good idea." Her voice was small.

Ginny and Hermione headed back to Hermione's apartment, she had bought when she turned 17. It was only for this summer, so she could be near the school to help with the Professors. It wasn't perfect, but it would have to do. It had two bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen and a small living room with a big window looking over Hogsmede.

"Do you want some tea?" Hermione asked when she opened the door.

"Yes, that'd be nice." Ginny's voice was still small. "Strong, please."

Hermione headed over to the kitchen and waved her want to get some water boiling. "Ginny… do you want to talk about this?"

"Yeah, I do, I do so badly, but every time I try, I always end up spilling out words, and nothing makes sense, and I end up crying and no one ever knows what I'm saying… I just miss him so much, Hermione," She cradled her head in her hands, and her eyes were wet.

"I do too. He'll come back though, I just know he will. It's Harry, he's gotten out of bigger situations than this, hasn't he? He fought that dragon in fourth year, and faced Voldemort. He has to make it. The world wouldn't be right if he hadn't." Hermione held her head up high, even though her eyes were wet too.

Ginny sniffled. "Remember when we won the Quidditch match last year and I ran into his arms and he just kissed me?" She let out a small laugh.

"Yeah, I do," Hermione smiled at the memory. She made the tea and headed over to where Ginny was sitting. "I know it's a very dark time now, Ginny, but there has to be some hope. I know it's shot down in all of our minds that no, nothing's ever going to be right again, but we have to believe it's going to be."

"You're right, Hermione, but… I can't get rid of the little voice in my head that's telling me he's never coming back, it's just always there, driving me insane." Tears fell out of her eyes.

"Oh, don't cry, now I'm going too," Hermione blew her nose.

"Why do things always have to happen for the worst?"

"It tends to work that way, I guess. Things have to change."

"I hate it."

"I know, I do too."

"This is unfair."

Hermione and Ginny sipped the rest of their tea in silence. They were both thinking very hard, about their futures, and Harry's. What's going to happen? Hermione asked herself for the millionth and first time that day. No one knew where Voldemort or his supporters were, they had all escaped, and muggle deaths were getting more and more frequent. There was a new death or attack every week, and nothing seemed to be lightening. More tears ran down Hermione's cheeks. She looked out the window, it was raining. Great, now the weather's even turned on us. She wiped her tears away.

"I'd better leave, mum doesn't like me out this late." Ginny said.

"Okay, well I'll Apparate you back then."

Ginny put a hand on Hermione's shoulder and they Apparated back to the Burrow. "WHO'S THERE!" They heard.

"It's just us, Molly." Hermione said.

"Oh," She came into the kitchen and put the broom down by the sink. "You really should warn me when you do that, dear, you gave me quite a fright."

"I'm sorry. I can't stay, so I'll send an owl out tomorrow." She hugged Ginny and Molly and Apparated back to her apartment.

He looked at her swaying to the music with her eyes closed and her lips pursing together. How could he like this girl? He hated her for so long, and now it was a whole different story. Every time she entered a room it was like the sun shining down.

Great, now he was getting cheesy.

He left the bar, and Apparated back to his home. Since his father left, the house was practically his. His mother was always over at her sisters, talking about him, making plans that he no longer liked the sound of. They were forcing him into something his father would do, not him. I'm not going to do it. Look what happened to father… he thought as he entered the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water.

He was restless. He couldn't just sit here, there was nothing to do. He wanted to go back to the bar and see if Hermione was still there, but she had probably left, as it was only a little after one. Hermione liked to go to bed no later than 12:30. He remembered from last year, when they shared the Prefects dorm. He smiled at the memory. Her nose was always stuck to the table, scribbling away at her parchment, or else in a book, reading.

He frowned. How could Hermione ever fall for someone like him? He tortured her constantly for 6 years. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was looking down upon him now, since his father had died. I'm putting a stop to all this… He told himself. He would no longer be Voldemort's puppet, even if he could read his mind. Occlumency can't be hard if Potter can do it… Draco went up to his bedroom and called it a night.