Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all Harry Potter registered trademarks belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. I do not claim any rights to that which is protected by such laws. The story line, however, is mine.

The Great Hall, Christmas Eve

He was rather bored at the moment. The dance was beautiful, and quite nicely set up. But the perfection of the whole thing bothered him. Then again, she was the one who'd organized it. What should he have expected? Hmm, maybe not having to do all the work. He smirked at the irony of his own remark. He'd wanted head boy for as long as he could remember, but he'd never bothered to think about all the work it required. He'd supposed there would always be someone there to do it for him. As he surveyed the dance floor, with it's perfect size and shape courtesy the Mudblood, he saw Crabbe dancing with Millicent, Ginny with Neville, and thankfully no sign of the golden trio.

"Draco!" An overly cheerful voice interrupted his thoughts, "Why are you standing there? Come on, you need to live a little. Let's dance!" With that, Pansy dragged him onto the dance floor. She placed his hand on her hip, took his other hand in hers, and began to steer him around the floor.

"Pansy, why did you do that?" Draco appeared quite irritated, but she knew it was just an act.

"Well," she whispered, "Why did you act annoyed? You know you love me!" she laughed out loud at her own comment but grew serious, "You were looking so upset. Is it because Hermione isn't here?"

"What!" He was immediately shushed by Pansy who noticed they were attracting odd looks from near-by couples. "Why would I be worried about her? She's just a Mudblood. She could die for all I care." Draco said unconvincingly. Pansy let go of him, and led him off to a table, shooing away several frightened fourth-years. After sitting down, she motioned for Draco to do the same and come closer. She continued in a whisper.

"We'll see just how much you care. The rumor mill says she's been missing since Seven o'clock." Draco was certain he'd retained his icy composure, but Pansy recognized the slight fear that tinged his aura.

"Nonsense. She was sick. She's probably still in her room trying to fight it off instead of using a spell. Stupid know-it-all isn't as smart as everyone thinks." He finished with his trademark smirk in tact. Pansy just looked at him, noticing his aura was now a strange violet-red colour that resembled a mix of fear and anger. A lot like blood, really. She replied in a monotone voice.

"That's what Ginny thought, and now she's searching the castle top to bottom." Pansy stood, and changed her voice to a more cheerful one. "Well, I won't keep you any longer, Draco! Have fun!" With that, she waved goodbye and left Draco to his own thoughts, knowing that he wouldn't go after a 'Mudblood' if he thought she was watching. Pansy regarded him from a distance. One… two… three… And … Yup. Draco's gone. It seemed he had simply vanished, but she knew he'd gone off to rescue his princess. The question was: Did he know it?

"Curse her." Draco muttered under his breath, as he tried Hermione's door. Being as smart as she was, she'd locked it. Concentrating, he waved his wand in a complex pattern of swirls and slashes. Magically, the door sprang open. I suppose that's one advantage to being a Death Eater's son. He thought dryly. He had seen Ginny rushing up the stairs, to either the Owlry or the Astronomy Tower, so he'd decided to check the head's chambers. When he entered the room, he wasn't surprised to see everything organized and clean. 'A logical place to look,' he thought, 'would be the desk, as that's where she would most likely spend all her time.'

The desk was clean and bare of any personal memorabellia, except a muggle photograph of Ron, Harry and her self. In the middle of the desk lay a blank piece of parchment. He ignored it, and carefully slid the photo out of its frame. Instead of looking at the image, he turned it over to see what was on the back. What he saw startled him slightly. In the corner, in Hermione's neat printing, were the words 'Harry, Ron, Hermione. The last happy trip to the burrow.' But that wasn't the thing that had frightened him (Malfoys are never scared. Scary maybe, but not scared.). In the center of the space, was a drop of red, which Draco knew was blood. He carefully put the picture back in its place. As he turned to leave, something caught his eye. The same deep red that he'd seen on the photograph, was now on the previously blank paper.

As he looked on, more small drops appeared on the paper. Soon, the drops began to curl into a graceful, flowing script. The writing was faint, and barely legible at first. As he read, it darkened. He saw something about Hermione being near a place that 'no one would dare enter in the dark cloak of night'. Once he finished the letter, something in his mind fell into place. He knew this spell. Animus Discedo, it was an obsolete spell, but he knew that once the writing turned black, Hermione would be dead.

He left the letter where it was, and against his better judgment, climbed out the bedroom window, and sprinted off in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. If the spell had been cast properly, he figured he had about three minutes. He came to the edge of the forest near Hagrid's hut. From there, he walked to the left, scanning the ground and hoping he was headed in the right direction.

Training under the watchful eye of Lucius Malfoy for the majority of his life gave him quick reflexive spells, so when he finally saw the near-lifeless form, he did not stop to asses the damage, but he began to work on healing spells. Finite Cruor stopped the bleeding, Frigus Aveho warmed her frozen body, and Scourgify removed the blood from around the gash in her arm.

He gently picked up her ice-cold body, and began the walk to the infirmary. What were you thinking? Why did you do this? No one deserves this, not even you. Thoughts raced across his mind as the image that he'd seen haunted his mind. The first thing he'd seen was the blood. There was so much, too much to be from the small body that lay among it. Hermione's soft brown curls splayed out over the white snow. The white snow that contrasted so harshly with the crimson of the blood that formed in pools of reddened ice crystals. She was wearing her cloak, but no scarf or mittens. It looked as though she'd nearly frozen to death before she'd lost all that blood. Her pale skin retained a bluish tinge, the moonlight making her look even more deathly.

As he entered the infirmary, he felt some heat creeping back into Hermione's body. He laid her down on a bed, cast a spell to alert Madame Pomfrey of the situation, then quietly left. 'Why?' A voice in his mind questioned him. 'Why what?' he thought back. 'Why did you help a mudblood? Why did you save Granger? Why didn't you let her die? Why do you care?' The questions came faster and faster. There were too many that he couldn't answer, and some he didn't want to answer. As he walked back to his room, and changed into a pair of forest-green silk boxers before climbing into his bed, the last question floated into his mind like a feather. 'Would she live?'

The End…

Of the chapter at least.

Latin Translations

Finite - Finish

Cruor - Bloodshed

Frigus – Cold/Cold of winter

Aveho - Remove

Animus – Soul/Spirit

Discedo – To depart from

A/N: So, many of you asked for a second installment. Don't you regret it now? Yes? Good. Please yell at me about it in a review. A thank you to those who thought the story was interesting, although I can't see why: Destiny, red electra, Heavenly Queen of Darkness, Aerilys Areraniel, and whats in a name but letters.Until next time,

Kiara