Disclaimer: All hail Jo Rowling for giving us Harry and his world.

Come What May

Chapter Five

The day had come: Draco was due to go back to Hogwarts today. He awoke with the feeling of impending doom growing in his gut, knowing full well what could happen once he went back to the hated place.

It wasn't just that he hated the school and all that it stood for. He knew exactly what could happen once he went back. To be perfectly honest, he wouldn't have been surprised in the least if someone didn't kill him as soon as he set foot inside the grounds.

Draco wanted to go back to school to finish his education. He knew that much. And he also knew that if he didn't, he'd be royally screwed. He knew that there was a good chance that Harry Potter, the

so-called 'Chosen One,' could defeat Voldemort at any time in the near future, especially now that Dumbledore, his last sole protector, was gone. And if Draco didn't have an education to fall back on if Voldemort fell, he would have nothing to advance in the world. The Ministry wouldn't take him, not without his N.E.W.T.s, which were needed for damn near everything now. Sure, Draco had money, but it could only take him so far in the world. Money couldn't buy happiness, that much Draco was sure of. He had tried before, and failed. Without being able to buy happiness, what could he buy to make it in the world?

Draco got up and went about cleaning his room, packing his trunk as he went. He tracked down his robes and new school supplies and threw them unceremoniously into the trunk, on top of his carefully placed Nimbus Two Thousand and One. Once he was sure he was all packed, he closed the lid to the trunk and sealed it with a charm to ensure nobody would be inspecting it any time soon.

He looked around his room and sighed, rubbing a hand over his face and through his hair. He was so incredibly tired of his life. He was tired of putting up a good front for his father and the Death Eaters, he was tired of trying to keep up the constant wall in his mind to keep Voldemort from seeing his fear and unwillingness to comply to the Dark Arts, he was tired of the endless, sleepless nights that he had been forced to endure ever since he took up his place beside his father and swore to murder for the greater good of the Wizarding world.

He decided that he would take a shower and attempt to wash away all his misery for the moment. A fat chance of that happening, but he needed a temporary fix, as he knew he was about to have the day from hell, and besides, his back was bloody killing him.

Hot water was about the only thing that helped alleviate the pain in his back anymore. He had tried everything, but the hexes and curses that his father and Voldemort had used on him were powerful, had no counter curses for pain. They had left deep welts in his back, and instead of healing properly, the scabs would occasionally break open and bleed all over again. Draco was pretty sure that they would remain that way for a long time. At least, until Voldemort was defeated.

Draco stepped into the shower and winced at the fresh wave of pain that coursed through his upper body before settling into a sort of numb, unfeeling state. He let the water beat down on his back, enjoying the temporary reprieve from the pain. The only thing he could possibly enjoy at the moment was the fact that he was Head Boy, and that, like it or not, he was going back to the only place that had ever really felt like home.

Now, as for the whole Granger business.

"To kill, or not to kill, that is the question," Draco muttered to himself, contemplating the whole affair.

Well, if he killed her, his father and Voldemort would be incredibly happy with him, something that didn't particularly make him feel much better. On the other hand, he could decide not to kill her and end up dead himself.

"Does it really matter anymore? Wouldn't I be better off that way?" He asked himself.

He got out of the shower with his mind buzzing with more questions than it did when he got in. He was still in two minds about killing Granger, and it didn't help that his mind was buzzing with possible scenarios as to what his fellow classmates could do to him once they saw him again.

"What I wouldn't give to be normal, just to be fucking normal for two seconds.," he cursed.

He went downstairs into the dining room, where he would proceed to eat a lonely breakfast by himself, as his father was away on 'business' and his mother preferred to stay in bed until at least noon these days.

When the family house elf came in to collect his dishes, he retreated back upstairs to mull over things and decide just how far he was willing to go for his father's sake.

The morning dawned grey and chill on Grimmauld Place, where everyone was still sound asleep, dawn having only just broken. All was quiet, everyone in their respective bedrooms, dreaming peacefully. All, that is, except for Hermione. Ginny had been keeping watch over her again, making sure she wouldn't do anything to hurt herself again. All through the night, Hermione had been sleeping badly. She would toss and turn endlessly, moaning and crying out every so often.

Ginny was just starting to doze off near dawn, having successfully stayed awake most of the night. Hermione had been quiet for the past half hour; she hadn't thrashed around in awhile and the moaning and crying had stopped. Ginny knew the others would be getting up in a few short hours, and figured she was safe to at least doze for a bit.

Out of nowhere, Hermione gave a sharp intake of air and bolted upright in her bed, breathing heavily as though she had been running for a great distance. Ginny started, jumping out of her chair and looking wildly at Hermione.

One look told her that Hermione was back. There was no more of that blank look in her eyes, and the way that Hermione was looking around curiously, wondering where she was and why she was so confused told Ginny that her friend was back to normal. Or as normal as she could be.

"Herms?" Ginny asked cautiously.

Hermione looked at her slowly. "Ginny?"

The whole house was awakened by Ginny's joyous shriek. Shortly thereafter, Harry and Ron stumbled in, looking sleepily alarmed and grumbling about being roused from their sleep so early.

"She's back! Look! Hermione's back!"

Ron perked up a bit. "Herms? How do you feel?"

Hermione ran a hand over her face. "What the hell's the matter with me?"

"You've been a bit out of it," Ginny explained.

"Out of it? What do you mean out of it?"

"You've been in a bit of a trance. You wouldn't talk to us, you wouldn't do anything. You had like this weird, blank look in your eyes, and it wouldn't go away," Ron supplied.

"For how long? What day's it?"

"You haven't exactly been here for about a week. We go back to Hogwarts today," Harry said carefully, trying not to alarm her.

Hermione gave a shriek just as Lupin, Tonks, and Mrs. Weasley entered the room.

"Are you freaking kidding me!"

"I'd say she's feeling better, what do you think, Remus?" Tonks yawned, looking bemused.

"Quite," Lupin said with the same bemused expression.

"How do you feel, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked, feeling Hermione's forehead.

"Like I've done nothing but lay around for a week. I stink, I feel dirty, and I feel like I've got a troll-sized hangover, not to mention that I feel like all the happiness has been sucked right out of me," Hermione grumped.

"Lucky for us, Remus here figured out what's wrong with you, and Tonks has a little something to help you out," Mrs. Weasley said.

Hermione looked around at them all suspiciously. "What do you mean, what's wrong with me? And what's supposed to help me?"

Lupin stifled a yawn. "Lucius cursed that note he wrote to you. As soon as you touched it, it activated. Atrox Preteritus," he added, seeing the look on her face.

"Atrox Preteritus. It doesn't ring a bell. What's it do?"

"I guess you could call it a bit of a dementor curse. It's supposed to make you relive the very worst moment in your life and is supposed to make you suicidal and such. Not to mention it sometimes comes with a little voice that plants itself in your head," Lupin explained with a bit of a twisted smile.

"I've heard that voice! Stupid thing kept telling me to cut myself," Hermione muttered.

"You did," Ginny blurted out.

Hermione looked surprised. "I did?"

"Look at your arm. It's probably healed by now. Remus mended it," Tonks said.

Hermione held up her arm. Sure enough, there was a faint white line, the scar that she would forever bear as a reminder of what she lost and what she was determined to do to forever rid herself of the pain it brought with it.

"I must say though, Molly, you did a superb job on her face," Lupin said, breaking the silence.

"My face?"

"You went a bit berserk before you left us," Harry spoke up.

"How so?"

"You were clawing at your face right after you cut yourself, like something was attacking you."

Hermione wracked her brain for something to explain the behavior. "It was Greyback," she said quietly.

"Greyback?" Lupin repeated.

Hermione nodded. "Everything started coming back to me, and I think I was going mental or something. Before I cut myself, I saw my parents lying on the floor in front of me, and I could hear Malfoy laughing at me. And then Greyback appeared. . .he was going to attack me like he did my father. He was going to kill me. He told me so. He wanted to know what I thought of the job he did on my father, and he said. . .he said that I had a pretty face, so he was going to take care of that first. . ." her voice shook and then died.

"It wasn't real, Herms. It was all in your head," Ron said, sitting down next to her on the bed and putting an arm around her shoulders.

"I am mental," she quivered out.

"No, you're not," Lupin said firmly. "You've been through a terrible ordeal, and it will take time for you to get over it. You may not ever get over it, but the pain will go away. . .eventually."

Hermione looked up at him, wiping tears off her face. "Eventually?"

"The, er, curse, has a slight complication."

"What?"

"It will only be lifted once you have found the one person that completes your soul. It's placed upon a person who has suffered greatly, as in losing someone they love, so that they feel as though they have lost part of their soul. That's why the curse was so ideal to be placed on you. Lucius hopes that, in suffering as much as you did, that you would become so miserable and heartbroken that you would take your own life, without finding that one soul mate that would lift the curse."

"So, in other words, I'm screwed," Hermione clarified.

"No, you're not," Ginny said matter-of-factly.

"Yes I am. Look at me, I'm a mess, who would want to put up with this? Hell, I can hardly stand to put up with it."

"That's where this comes in," Tonks said, appearing at Hermione's side with a goblet of some sort of poisonous blue liquid.

Hermione took it gingerly. "What is it?"

"I guess you could call it the Wizarding equivalent to Prozac," Tonks joked.

"It'll help with the depression," Lupin clarified.

"Ah, what the hell. It can't hurt, can it? I'd rather be clinically happy than clinically mental," Hermione declared, tipping the contents of the goblet into her mouth.

"Cheers, Herms," Harry said, grinning at Hermione's raw sense of humor.

"Well, I best get down to the kitchen and start some breakfast, now that we're all awake. There's much to do, with you lot getting off to school," Mrs. Weasley said, bustling out of the room.

"It's good to have you back, Hermione," Tonks said brightly, giving her a hug before following Mrs. Weasley and Lupin out of the room.

"You don't remember anything about it?" Harry asked quietly once the adults had left the room.

Hermione shook her head. "It was like I was trapped inside my own head. I felt like I was drowning inside. Like I was already dead. And then, I don't know, I just sort of snapped out of it. I heard someone inside my head, but it wasn't someone telling me to hurt myself."

"Who was it?" Ginny asked curiously.

"I. . .I think it was my mum."

They were all quiet for a moment, letting it digest.

"Well, that's. . .that's good, I suppose. I mean, you're back, right?" Ron said rather uncomfortably.

"I guess. I don't like the idea of being thought of as mental though," Hermione sighed.

"You're not mental!" They all exclaimed.

"I know I'm not. I mean, I think I'm not. I think I'm going to go take a shower and get dressed," she said abruptly, throwing the covers off as she got up out of bed.

They watched her walk out of the room, noticing how she looked so much thinner than she was.

"She'll be okay. She will," Ginny said fiercely, glaring at her brother and Harry, as though daring them to contradict her.

"She will. Deep within, she's still our Hermione, she just won't be coming out as much anymore," Harry agreed rather sadly.

The morning flew by quickly, and at a quarter to eleven, they arrived at King's Crossing to board the Hogwarts Express. They entered the platform from the Muggle station casually, so as to not attract attention. The platform was packed with students and their families, all there to see their children safely off. Hermione looked around and noticed with a sigh that there were a few familiar faces missing. There was no sign of Hannah Abbott anywhere, and she was pretty sure she didn't see a sign of the Patil sisters anywhere.

"You all right?" Harry asked quietly as they headed towards an empty carriage.

"Fine," she said automatically.

Once they had loaded their trunks inside their compartment, they came back out onto the platform to say one last good bye.

"Now, I want you all to behave yourselves and work hard. This is your final year," Mrs. Weasley said rather sternly, looking particularly at her son, who was carefully avoiding her gaze.

"And I want you to look after yourselves. No wandering off on your own, is that clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," they grumbled.

"Take care of yourself, dear," Mrs. Weasley whispered to Hermione as she gave her an extra hug.

"I will. I'll be okay," Hermione assured Mrs. Weasley, though she was really trying to assure herself.

The train whistle sounded and Mrs. Weasley chivvied them forward to board. They stood at the window and waved as the train started to move. Before they rounded the corner, Mrs. Weasley had Disapparated.

They started to move through the crowded corridor to their compartment. Ron stopped when he realized Hermione wasn't following.

"Aren't you coming?" he called over the noise.

"I can't, I have to go to the Head compartment, get my instructions," she called back, looking a little lost.

"Hey, do me a favor, tell me what my instructions are when you get back, won't you?" Ron yelled.

She nodded and gave a little wave before starting off on her own down the corridor, looking distinctly lost and alone.

Hermione made her way down the length of the train, ignoring the whispering that came from people as she passed. She had no idea what the Daily Prophet had written as far as her parents' deaths were concerned, but she was pretty sure they all knew about it, and they were all talking about her as she passed.

"But I turned over a new leaf, remember? I don't give a rat's ass about what people think anymore," she told herself sternly as she held her head high, ignoring the whispered comments flying all around her.

She found the Head compartment and entered it, only to find that she was the only one there. She sat down and waited while admiring the compartment. It was decorated rather lavishly, lots of dark wooden paneling and a rich carpet under foot. The seats were rather like couches, very squishy and comfortable. The lamps that hung from the ceiling were of stained glass and cast a rather warm glow around the carriage. It was rather like being in someone's living room than on a train.

"I could get used to this," she mused to herself, just as the carriage door slid open.

She looked up, and instantly, it was as though her insides froze and shriveled up. Her breath caught in her throat.

"You have got to be kidding me. Oh, hell no," she finally stammered out.

"Nice to see you too, Granger," Draco Malfoy smirked as he sat down across from her.

"This cannot be happening. This cannot be happening," she muttered to herself, refusing to look at the accursed boy.

"Ah, but it is. Here I am, in the flesh, and, if I'm not mistaken, your new dorm mate," Draco said coolly.

"How dare you speak to me," Hermione snapped out.

Draco looked slightly affronted. "How dare I? And who are you to judge?"

"Your father killed my parents!" she shrieked.

"And what proof is there?" he sneered.

"Just because you don't have any doesn't mean that I don't!"

"Miss Granger! Lower your voice!"

Professor McGonagall stepped into the carriage as she was shrieking at Draco.

"Yes, Professor," she said, lowering her eyes and her voice.

Minerva McGonagall observed her student shrewdly for a moment before speaking again.

"I am pleased to see you are both in good health. I want to welcome you back to your final year at Hogwarts."

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione muttered.

McGonagall went on to tell them their instructions before excusing them to go back to their friends.

"Miss Granger, a word if you would, please," she called as Hermione made her way to the door.

"Yes Professor?"

McGonagall waited until Draco had slid the door shut before speaking again.

"I really am sorry about your parents. I know it must be hard,"

"I'm fine," came the automatic reply.

"I'm sorry that you are rather stuck with Mr. Malfoy. He was really the best candidate out of them all."

"Surely not, Professor?"

"I assure you, whatever you may be thinking, you are quite safe. I have seen to that. There is no need to worry about being in his company," McGonagall said quietly.

"I have no doubt, Professor. I just can't help but wonder why? Why is he even back at school this year? After everything from last term?"

"You shall see in due time, Miss Granger. In the meantime, I suggest you get back to your friends. I daresay they'll be wondering where you got off to."

Hermione left the compartment, feeling the need for some more of that Prozac potion. She had a feeling she would need it more often than she would like this year.