Hermione finished chugging her third glass of Firewhiskey and put it loudly on the table. She knew she was being stupid and shouldn't have started drinking, but it felt good and she wasn't alone. Nothing could happen to her tonight.

"Maybe you should slow down now," Ginny said.

"I'm fine, Gin. Don't worry about it."

Ginny looked at Draco, as if he had the last word, but he shrugged and finished his second glass of Firewhisky. Then she looked at Blaise, who grimaced at her in a funny way.

They had left Duncan's house three hours earlier, and Draco had wanted to go to the local Penshaw bar, but Hermione had reminded him that Ginny wasn't eighteen yet and that it would be better to go to the pub. So the four of them sat down at the Greedy Grindylow and bought themselves a meal. The silence was awkward at first, all the talk in the pub accentuated their lack of conversation. As soon as they started drinking, the tension dissipated. Only Ginny didn't feel like drinking even one Butterbeer, because she wanted to keep an eye on her friend. She still remembered what had happened in Hogsmeade; Hermione had only been out for two minutes and had been attacked. Tonight she would not let Hermione out of her sight. She just wished the Slytherins would be a bit more observant.

"Should we be worried that we have classes tomorrow morning? Blaise asked.

"No, Sir, not tonight!" replied Hermione, her cheeks hot.

"In fact..." began Ginny.

"Not tonight, Freckles," Draco cut in with a smirk. He was feeling better, too. All the inconsistencies he hadn't been able to resolve for weeks were locked away in a corner of his mind, calmed by a good layer of Whiskey. He was even almost having fun here at the Greedy Grindylow, with three people he never thought would share a meal or an evening. Just like at the Boar's Head the night before, he was sitting next to Hermione and enjoying the feeling of closeness that numbed him and the fruity smell that rose every time she played with her hair.

He wasn't stupid either, and suspected that Blaise was probably thinking the same thing: they were all watching the brunette. But on top of that, Draco was casting discreet glances around him to assess any sign of abnormality or danger. He was sitting on the edge of his chair, ready to pounce at any second.

"I think I need some pumpkin juice," Hermione said. "To settle my stomach. Anyone else?"

"Yes, please!" agreed Ginny.

"Guys?"

Blaise raised his glass of Whiskey and winked. "I have my favorite!"

"No, thanks," said Draco, finishing his second glass of Whiskey. He started to get up. "But I can go instead, you can wait here."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Everything's fine, okay? I'm only going to the counter which is twenty feet away." She turned on her heels without waiting for an answer and Draco grumbled under his breath as he watched her, imitated by Ginny and Blaise.

"Are we too worried?" asked Ginny, embarrassed.

"You can never be too careful," replied Blaise. "After everything that's happened, I get the feeling she needs her own personal bodyguards."

"She's too proud to accept that," Draco snorted.

"If you think about it, Malfoy, you have the best role," Ginny blurted, her eyes mischievous. "You share a dormitory with her. You're basically twenty-four hours a day with her, except for a few classes."

"So she's my responsibility?"

"Only if you want her to be," Blaise smiled, raising his glass for a second time.

Unexpectedly, Ginny raised her almost empty glass and toasted with him. "I'll drink to that!"

Blaise and Ginny sipped at the same time, exchanging a quick glance over their glasses. Draco rolled his eyes before sliding them over to the counter, where Hermione was waiting, elbows resting on it. He watched from a distance as her wild curls tumbled over her shoulders and the curve of her hips, the slenderness of her legs, her right foot tapping rapidly against the floor. Oddly enough, he knew this did not mean she was impatient, but that she was nervous. He concealed a smile and began to nibble on the pistachios that lay in a bowl in the centre of their table. He allowed himself to shift his attention elsewhere for a few minutes, knowing that Granger was only a few feet away.

Hermione was waiting for her two pumpkin juices. The wizards and witches around her were wore all brightly coloured robes and were smiling broadly. Every thought in her head had fallen asleep under the ambient noise. Her head was tingling and her cheeks were hot, but she didn't care.

A gentle hand came to rest on her arm suddenly and Hermione spun around.

A woman in a blue dress with black hair was smiling at her. "I don't know why," she giggled, "but I wanted to tell you that my name is Diane Murdoch. Have a nice evening, dear. You look lovely, by the way."

The woman walked away and disappeared into the crowd. The Lioness was stunned and stood watching as Diane's silhouette disappeared among the other wizards. Almost immediately, behind her, another hand came to rest on her arm. Hermione turned.

An old man, dressed in a yellow wizard's robe with a bushy blonde beard, leaned towards her, a kind smile on his lips. "As soon as I saw you, Miss, I knew I had to come and see you. My name is Darius Murphy! You look wonderful tonight."

Hermione, heart racing, opened her mouth to say something, but Darius was already gone. Even though both of those people had been nice to her, a bad feeling began to knot her stomach. The waiter handed her two pumpkin juices and she slipped her fingers into the handles. Turning to go to her table, there was a tall, red-haired young man that reminded her of Bill Weasley who put a friendly hand on her shoulder and leaned into her ear.

"If you'll allow me to get to know you, Miss, my name is Donovan Morgan. All evening I felt I had to come and say at least two words to you! Oh, and I think you're very charming, your boyfriend must feel very lucky."

Hermione blinked and was quicker this time. "Who told you to come and see me?"

The young man frowned, as if he didn't understand her question. "I... I don't know. I just know I had to tell you."

He walked away instantly, and a woman appeared in front of her, small and plump. She touched her elbow and her eyes sparkled like a child. "What is your secret for being so gorgeous? I just had to come and see you! My name is Doris Marshall. I look forward to seeing you again, really!"

Then Hermione was now surrounded by several witches and wizards and she couldn't concentrate on one face.

"My name is Delphine McKinley!"

"Are you the war hero? I'm Daniel Mackenzie! Will you please autograph my arm?"

"Miss! Good to see you at last! I'm Davy Murray! I heard about you in The Daily Prophet! What a tragic family story..."

Hermione clasped her hands around her pumpkin juices and tried to watch all these people at once. "Who told you to meet here?" she exclaimed, feeling anger flooding her. "Who cursed you?"

"As soon as I saw you, I had to come and see you. My name is Dorothy Matthew! I love your hair."

"...Donald Mitchell!"

"...Desiree Meyer! I saw your parents in Diagon Alley so long ago!"

"...Daphne Malone!"

"...Dylan Marwood!"

"...Dugald Midgen!"

"WHO CURSED YOU?" Hermione shouted.

Draco, Blaise and Ginny looked up at the same time and looked towards the counter to see Hermione standing still and shaking like a leaf.

"Your time will come," another wizard said.

As if she was being punched, Hermione dropped her two glasses of pumpkin juice, which shattered at her feet and splashed her with juice. Wizards were surrounding her and talking to her, but she was frozen in place. Draco leapt from his chair and rushed towards her. As soon as he began to hear what the wizards were saying, he swore. He threw his money, too much money, on the counter to pay for all their drinks, and took his partner's hand to pull her out.

Blaise took care of pushing away the wizards and witches who wanted to continue talking to Hermione while Ginny collected their belongings from the table. Within a minute they were all outside. Outside, the air was mild and the darkness had just fallen, a vesperal blue still sweeping across the sky. They made their way to the stone fountain that stood in the centre of the village.

"What the fuck was that?" Draco exclaimed, finally stopping. He did not let go of the brunette's hand, however. She was shaking her head.

"All their initials are DM," she croaked.

"What the hell?" gasped Ginny.

"It's a game, of course," Blaise said, his jaw clenching.

"A game?" cut in Draco. "What do you mean, a fucking game?"

"Someone knows we're looking for, or at least that Mia is looking for someone called DM. Someone's stalking us."

Draco closed his eyes and took long breaths, confusion returning to irritate his brain. Someone was playing with them. It was completely insane, cruel and absurd. He couldn't even imagine how lost and unsafe Hermione must feel. Without realising it, his fingers closed on the brunette's palm and he squeezed. He was sure he wouldn't want to let go of her or let her wander away again.

"I don't understand," Hermione gasped. "I don't understand—"

"Let's go back to Hogwarts," advised Ginny. "We need to rest."

"Are you able to apparate, Mia?" asked Blaise.

The girl swallowed and lifted her chin proudly. "Yeah. Yes, I'm fine. I'll try."

Draco admired the courage and resilience she was showing at this moment. The Lioness kept her hand in his, reassured by the warm, smooth touch of Draco's large palm closed over hers. Without a word, taking advantage of the darkness, she intertwined her fingers with his and squeezed harder. Her partner stiffened, surprised, but accepted and did not let go. Hermione held out her other hand and Ginny took it. Blaise hastily slipped his hand into Ginny's, which he found extraordinarily soft, and held on to it tightly.

A loud crack sounded over Penshaw as the four of them disappeared. In the distance, the shadow of a person hidden by the cover of the trees moved. A dirty, sadistic smile stretched across its face. Everything was going exactly as desired.

As soon as the four students entered the castle grounds, Hermione let out a long, deep sigh and massaged her forehead. She had managed to get them all to Hogsmeade and they had walked back, but now she was exhausted. Not to mention that the alcohol was still numbing her mind and was now giving her a growing headache. In a low, frantic whisper, she tried to repeat to herself all the names she'd been told, but they were quickly getting mixed up.

"Daphne Malone... Diana Murdoch... Dylan Mitchell, or was it Meyer? And Dorothy... Marwood?" she whispered to herself.

"Granger, I don't think there's any point," Draco sighed.

"This is where I leave you," Blaise said. "I have to go downstairs to my common room."

In a quick gesture, he pressed a hand to Hermione's arm and smiled warmly. "It was nice drinking with you, Mia. Next time we'll go somewhere less... crowded! We'll talk about this again, okay?"

"Thank you, Blaise," Hermione replied.

Then the tall Slytherin turned to Ginny and pointed a finger at her. "You and I will have to find more things to toast to!"

"Obviously!" retorted Ginny, amused.

Blaise winked at her, not caring that Draco was watching him very intently, and turned on his heels, heading for the dungeons. Draco, Ginny and Hermione began to climb the stairs in the hall to their floor. They were worn out. They had almost had a good time together at the Greedy Grindylow until dozens of wizards surrounded Hermione. Because of that, the end of the evening had been cut short and everything was cold now.

Hermione suddenly burst out laughing, which made Ginny frown, looking at Draco in confusion. The brunette, almost gleefully, dropped her arm over the redhead's shoulders, and Ginny quickly supported her weight as she leaned forward.

"It's no use, but it's all I can do!" said Hermione, still shaking with laughter.

Then, seeing that her two classmates did not respond, she continued. "Unbelievable, isn't it?"

Another burst of laughter. Draco looked questioningly at Ginny over Hermione who was between them.

"I'm actually the brightest witch, I hear," she snorted, "and I can't remember a few names!"

"Granger, I'm not the only one who thinks those names won't get you anywhere," Draco cut in. "Someone is messing with your head..."

Hermione gave him a friendly shove and her smile widened. "Well, this stranger is succeeding, I must say!"

Draco clenched his jaw. They were almost to the seventh floor and at last he could sit down and simply put his thoughts in order in complete silence. He hoped (and expected) that Hermione would fall asleep in the next minute when she crossed the threshold of their dorm. He needed to think about Angela's letter, the dozens of DMs that had appeared in Penshaw, Hermione's magic that was still uncontrollable, and again the story of that stolen watch, those people under the Imperius, her potion...

"Hermione, don't worry about it, okay?" said Ginny softly, stopping in the middle of the hallway. "Get some rest."

"But I have to tell the boys, they're gonna—"

"I'll take care of Harry and Ron," cut in her friend. "I just want you to try and relax. I know you're stressed out and can't take it anymore."

"It's alright, Gin!" giggled Hermione as she hugged her. "I'm just dizzy, that's all!"

"I know someone who will be in a bad mood in class tomorrow!"

"Well, see you later, Freckles," Draco said. Come on now, Granger."

"You and your impatience," Hermione huffed dramatically, rolling her eyes. Nevertheless, she followed her partner with a final wave of goodbye to Ginny, who disappeared around the corner back to Gryffindor's tower.

"Do you often drink like this?" asked Draco, half-amused, hands in his pockets.

The witch's eyes sparkled with a new hint of hilarity that shook her voice. "Only when I find out that my ex-boyfriend cheated on me with my dead brother's girlfriend!"

The Slytherin sighed. Now standing in front of the portrait, he called out the password and they crossed the doorway. Hermione sighed happily before crashing down on the sofa, lifting her feet to swing them over the backrest. Her head was almost upside down, hair falling over the seat cushions and touching the floor.

"I'm thirsty," she muttered, her eyes already focused on the crackling fire that she could see upside down.

Draco, who had already gone to the bathroom, heard her and went to pour her a glass of water. He returned to the sofa and placed the glass on the coffee table, before taking a seat on one of the armchairs. Hermione sat up, her face flushed, and took the glass and chugged it.

She put it back on the table and wiped her lips. "Say it, Draco."

"What?"

"That I drank too much. That I made a mistake. That it was pointless going to Penshaw. That I was stupid. Whatever you're thinking right now."

She lay down again, but this time in a normal position, her back against the cushion. She covered her eyes with her forearm.

"I don't give a fuck if you drink, Granger," he smiled, shaking his head. "It wasn't a mistake to go to Penshaw."

"We didn't find anything."

The blonde man raised his index finger. "Actually, we did. One thing."

She raised her arm to look at him with one tired, red eye.

"Letters," he says. "You found letters."

Hermione grunted and held up her hands in helplessness. "But that has nothing to do with what we were looking for!"

"Maybe it does, maybe it doesn't. But it's something."

"What do you suggest?"

"I don't know yet. We have to think about it."

"Great."

The Lioness put her arm back over her eyes and sighed. After about twenty seconds, Draco thought he heard mumbling and realised that she had started repeating the names of the Penshaw wizards who had addressed her. He said nothing and crossed his fingers, staring at a blank spot on the opposite wall. After a few minutes he rested his grey eyes on her. Her breathing was more regular and he wondered if she had even fallen asleep that way. A smile tugged at his lips. He thought she looked almost cute half-drunk. There was something about the way her eyes twinkled, her smile was more playful and she...

She had intertwined her fingers with his.

Draco examined his hand and traced the lines of his palm with his fingertips, as if remembering the feeling he'd had. The radiant heat between their palms. The throbbing of his heart as it sped up. He hadn't looked at her face at the time, but perhaps she'd bitten her lip as she'd clasped him in her hand. Granger had squeezed him. Blaise hadn't. She'd wanted his touch. His closeness. His protection. An immense pride engulfed him and made his heart swell with a happy blast.

"I miss him," Hermione murmured.

Draco, who had been deep in thought, looked up at her. Her arm was down and her face was exposed. Her eyes were closed, but a tear was beading at the corner of her eyelid.

"I didn't get to say goodbye to him... The last thing I said to him was something stupid because we'd had an argument." She gulped. "I didn't get closure." The tear rolled down her cheek, slowly, catching the reflection of the flames. "I didn't even go to the graveyard to visit him yet. I can't get myself to do it."

"I miss my brother so much," she finished in a breath. Ten seconds later, she was asleep.

Draco waited five minutes, during which he merely watched her, his mind calm and empty, before laying a blanket over her. He went to refill her glass of water a second time and put it on the table, and placed an empty wastebasket by the sofa. Just in case.

Hermione's hangover the next morning made her partner burst out laughing as soon as he saw her. He had just finished his morning workout and was coming out of his room when he ran into her. Her hair was a mess, her eyes were small, her step was ponderous, her voice was hoarse... Merlin she was attractive in that wild state. She tripped over the wastebasket at the foot of the sofa as she stood up.

"Shut up, you idiot," she muttered as she locked herself in the bathroom.

She had a horrible headache. Every sound was throbbing. She still had her memories of the night before, fortunately. Even though her hangover was quite sickening, Hermione could feel the tingling in her stomach. She remembered Draco's hand in hers and called herself a fool. She opened a cupboard door and shoved in two Muggle pills she had brought with her, hoping that they would help her with her classes for the day. What had gotten into her, drinking three glasses?

Draco banged his fist against the door and the Gryffindor felt as if her head would explode. The headache was terrible.

"Welcome to the morning-after club!" he exclaimed.

She opened the door wide and glared at him. "Don't speak so loudly," she begged.

He laughed again. His laughter was crisp and teasing. Nausea gripped Hermione's throat and she rushed to the bathroom. She drew back and heard Draco call out something silly, laugh, and then come closer.

"Leave," she shivered.

Once she was calmer, her blonde partner stepped forward again. He held her hair back as she vomited. He made a comment here and there, but the brunette was too sick to care. He must find me so repulsive, she thought.

"A good brushing of the teeth, a shower and an extra strong black coffee should finish the job," he said.

"Fine, fine... Shall I get on with it, now?"

Draco left her and went back to preparing himself. He knew how to handle his booze. He didn't feel anything at all except for a slight headache that would pass easily in the course of the morning.

On Wednesday evening, November 9th, the sky was streaked with flamboyant colours. Coral pink, pastel orange, sandy yellow and azure blue surrounded the halo of the pale sun setting behind the Black Lake. Golden hour. Hermione and Ginny were sitting at their usual bench, their faces an almost pink hue in the sunset light. The brunette had her head in her friend's lap. They'd been talking for hours. Harry and Ron had joined them, but they left a few minutes ago to carry on with their parchments. Everyone was updated on the latest events and discoveries.

Since her return, Hermione had reread Angela's letters several times. But she hadn't found anything in them. They all looked the same, depending on when they were sent. The cute, loving letters were the oldest, and gradually the letters became cold, full of disappointment, haughty, nasty, and finally, indifferent.

Ginny was busy braiding some of her friend's hair. "How was it?" she asked suddenly. "With Duncan."

Hermione looked up at Ginny, focused on her hair.

"I knew a few bits and pieces, of course," Ginny continued. "But what was it really like between you two?"

"He was... nice. At least, at first. Viktor had, well, disappointed me over the summer, and we'd stopped writing to each other. So when I started fifth year, I was already in the boys' world."

The redhead burst into a hearty laugh. "Ah, it's bound to happen some year or other!"

"And Duncan was a handsome Ravenclaw, you know? Prefect of his House, just like me. He started talking to me in the hallways, here and there, between classes, and even during our shared classes. During Quidditch matches, which he disliked just like me, we'd sit together, even though his whole House was on the other side of the stands. He made me laugh."

"That's cute, though."

"Yes, until one day, shortly after Dumbledore's Army was disbanded, he began to grow distant. Cold, even arrogant."

"Boys," Ginny sneered sarcastically, looking up.

"He was asking me personal questions about my brother. But now I know it was all because he had secretly started fooling around with Angela. He was getting cold feet because he felt guilty."

Ginny continued to braid her hair, thoughtful and focused, before asking her question. "Is that all?"

Hermione met her friend's eyes again. "That's the only reason, you think, why he got weird?" Ginny clarified.

"What else?"

"Apart from the personal questions, how was he?"

"He wasn't smiling anymore," Hermione recalled, eyes fixed on a spot in the sky. "He didn't spend time with me anymore. If I bumped into him, I'd notice that he was looking a bit worn out. I'd go and see him, but he had a stiff attitude. He didn't hang out with anyone anymore. Just before we went to the Department of Mysteries for the prophecy, he abruptly pushed me away because I wouldn't tell him where I was going. I told him it was about Voldemort and that it had to be kept secret for now and that I would tell him as soon as I got back."

"Did you?"

"Yes... I told him everything. I told him that Voldemort had had a duel with Dumbledore and that he had possessed Harry and everything."

"What did he say?"

Hermione dug into her memories trying to remember exactly what that conversation was that she had had over two years ago. She frowned. "Nothing, actually... He didn't say anything. He was neutral. And a few days later, we finished our year and he broke up with me."

"Idiot."

"He might have gone off with Angela, but the letters confirm that she didn't see him after that year either... He just... disappeared completely. Poof."

Ginny finished her work with a strand of the brunette's hair and put her hands down. "I know what we should do."

Hermione straightened up and leaned her back against the back of the bench, gazing at the glistening surface of the Black Lake as it caught the colourful reflections of the sky.

"What?"

"Maybe it won't work out, but what do you think about visiting Angela?"

The brunette bit her lip and sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. Ginny resumed quickly.

"Before you say anything, think about it... Isn't it weird that without realizing it, you were involved in a... love square? That's even worse than a love triangle! Even your brother was involved. Duncan and Angela seem to be the only people, at the moment, who are connected to your brother, and who might know more."

"I understand, Gin," Hermione admitted, shaking her head. "But I feel like I'm getting into a completely different investigation. It feels like I'm following the trail of my old relationship, not the mystery of my brother's death, and the unexplainable things that have been happening since."

"Maybe that's all we can do for now…"

"I don't know where Angela lives, to be honest," Hermione confided. "I know which part of town, because my brother always went there, but not which house."

"Kingsley is the new Minister, isn't he? You have ties, because of the Order. I'm sure he could help you access the Wizengamot's administrative records."

"I'll send him an owl."

"But a word of advice... don't take Malfoy there."

"I know... I was thinking more of Harry and Ron, if they want. We've all been to the Ministry before, and besides, everyone loves them there. And Kingsley knows them just as well."

Darkness was beginning to fall. Hermione stood up and stretched, yawning openly. "I'm tired... I need the night to think about it. See you tomorrow?"

"Of course, but if you think I'm letting you go back into the castle alone, you're dreaming."

"Thank you, Gin," smiled Hermione.

They walked back together.

Hermione had just finished brushing her teeth. Draco had been silent for a long time, bent over his homework at the table. The Gryffindor liked to see him so studious and focused. She felt like she was looking at herself. She understood exactly that little line of concentration that crept across his forehead, the movement of his eyes as he read from left to right, the scratch of the quill on the parchment.

She went into her room to change into her pijamas and saw a blank letter lying on her pillow. The window was open, so maybe an owl had come in while she was with Ginny?

"Draco?" she asked before picking up the letter. "Did you hear an owl coming?

The Slytherin finished writing his note and turned in his chair. "Uh, no. I was with Zabini before I came here. What's the matter?"

"Nothing... I have a letter." Hermione tore open the envelope and opened the paper, which was dirty. A message was written on it in a handwriting she didn't recognize at all.

You think you know what you're doing, don't you? You really think you can find out what happened? You're chasing answers... You and your little gang. But watch out. The hunters could become the hunted.

If you think you know something, think again. You know absolutely nothing. I pity you so much, I want to help you. We've never met. You think I'm the person who robbed and/or killed your brother, and/or put a spell on all those people. I only did one of those things. It's up to you to find out which one.

Perhaps I'll tell you myself anyway. Your time will come. You remember, don't you? This winter I shall have my revenge.

Until then, if I hear that you are not wise... I know where to go. I know what's dear to you. Two idiots, a redhead, and... a blonde Pureblood, I hear? How did Phillip and Jane Granger enjoy their little trip?

Hermione's mind shut down, but her breathing quickened considerably. With the letter clutched between her fingers, she didn't move a muscle and stared at a blank spot on her wall.

"Granger?" called Draco after a few minutes of silence. "What letter?"

After a short pause, her partner rose from the table with a sigh and joined her in her room. She had her back to him and wasn't moving.

"Granger? What's up?" He came up behind her and read a few snippets of the paper she held in her hand. He snatched it from her hand, frowning, and read furiously. An icy wind swept through the room, lifting the curtains and knocking over a few light trinkets. She finally blinked and turned to him as he finished reading.

"I have to alter my parents' memories," she muttered, her face blank. "Again. I have to convince them to go somewhere else and change their identity. Again."

Draco looked into her amber emotionless eyes. His heart clenched horribly as he thought of the terrible choice his partner faced. How he wished he could do it for her just to spare her this pain. Hermione Granger, strong as she was, could not withstand another shock like this...

"They must forget me," she said. "I have to break their grief to make them forget that they had a son. I have no choice."

If I let go, would you hold on? Would we fly?
Is it safer if we just say that we tried?
Are we laughing at the danger?
Are we dancing after death, you and I?

Matt Maeson, Dancing after Death