The rest of the day passed by uneventfully for Draco. Every time he saw Hermione, she looked like she had a fire burning inside her. She stormed about the castle with an attitude almost daring someone to get in her way. Draco had a feeling there was more going on with her than just the hatred she obviously felt towards him – not that he cared.

"So where did you disappear to at breakfast?" asked Blaise casually over dinner.

"That's none of your business, Zabini," Draco replied conversationally.

"You just sort of, walked out. It looked like you'd been bitten by something."

"Sod off," Draco said, scowling.

"Jesus, Draco, I'm just asking…" Blaise muttered, obviously somewhat offended. Even Draco wasn't usually this rude.

"Well don't," he said shortly

"Fine…" Blaise sighed. "Well, at any rate, when are you going to call a Prefects meeting?"

Draco groaned. He'd completely forgotten. It annoyed him very much that the fact that he was Head Boy could slip his mind even for a second. It was all Granger's fault…he thought furiously. Calling a meeting with the Prefects was mandatory, but it would mean he had to speak to Granger.

"Oh," Blaise said. He had just been handed a slip of paper by a hurried looking fourth year. "Looks like Granger beat you to it."

"What?" Draco hissed, yanking the paper out of Zabini's hands.

'The first prefects meeting of this year will be held in classroom 24 tomorrow at 8:30 PM.
-
Hermione J. Granger'

She'd even signed her bloody name.

That is it.

Draco shoved the bench back violently and marched over to the Gryffindor table.

" - Yeah, that's what I was saying," Hermione said to Ginny Weasley. "I just don't know how to put it into wor-"

"Granger!" growled Draco.

"Sod off, Malfoy," she said coldly, not even looking up. She pressed on with her conversation, ignoring him completely. " - Into words. But, it's like, I don't even know how to sort it all -"

"Get up, Granger," Draco ordered maliciously, rolling his eyes. He would have reached forward and yanked her up by the collar but he didn't much fancy getting slapped across the face, or worse.

He didn't have to. Hermione got up from the table silently and walked out into the hall. She turned to face him when they were out of earshot from the rest of the school's population.

"What do you want, ferret boy?" she said frostily, her arms crossed.

"Clever. You called a prefects meeting – without consulting me."

"So?" she said blandly. "What's the problem?"

"The problem, Granger," he said through gritted teeth, "is that I'm Head Boy."

"Yes, that is a problem, isn't it," she said with a smirk.

"Listen, you -"

"I would have thought it would have been a load off your shoulders." There was an annoying smile playing around her mouth.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he spat.

She tapped her foot impatiently. "It means that you get to go off and play with your friends. Don't worry, Malfoy. I wasn't going to actually make you do any work. Truth be told, I wasn't expecting much from you at all. Really all you have to do is show up and look pretty." Her tone was so condescending it was making him actually see red.

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Fuck you, Granger," he snarled. She was mocking him, treating him like a child. He wanted to choke her with her own bushy hair. "I can handle ten times what you can."

"That'll be the pure blood in you, I suppose…" she said dryly. "It must give you strength the likes of which the rest of us can only dream."

She was mocking him again.

"Listen, you bitch. If you think I'm going to just 'sit this one out,' you are sorely mistaken. I've been waiting for this for a long time and there is no way in hell I'm going to let you elbow me out."

Hermione sighed. "Fine. You can be whatever you want to be," she said, humoring him. "You can do as much as you like. But, Malfoy, if it gets to be too much for you to handle, or Merlin forbid, you break a nail, you be sure to let me know and I'll take care of it." Her voice was dripping in mock concern. It made him sick.

She turned and walked back into the dining hall, leaving him once again to glare at her head and wish her a most painful death.

-

She hated him. She hated him so much it made her blood boil to look at him. He opened his mouth and she wanted to shove the largest, most foul smelling object she could think of down his throat to shut him up. Although she had to admit, making fun of him and watching his face contort in fury was amazingly satisfying.

A part of her felt slightly guilty. As much as she hated him, she knew she was taking her frustration with Ron out on Malfoy. That was not something she felt good about doing. It was immature and mean, but it was easy. And he did deserve it. He was an arrogant, bigoted prick.

She plopped back into her seat and continued her conversation with Ginny as though nothing had happened.

"Er, what was that about?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Nothing, just Malfoy being Malfoy…I took care of it."

"Oh. Okay," Ginny said, shrugging her shoulders. "So, anyway…"

Hermione had expected Ginny to be angry with her when she told her about what happened with Ron, but surprisingly she had been very understanding. It felt good to know she had a friend.

"I know I really hurt him, Ginny," she said sadly.

"Hermione," Ginny said, shaking her head patiently, "Ron loves you."

Hermione dropped her eyes, feeling guilty.

"No. I mean, what Ron feels for you goes deeper that all this. It's not just romance. His romantic feelings for you come and go. They probably always will. But underneath all that, he loves you like he loves me. He knows you. He'd do anything for you just because you're you," Ginny explained. "This could never be the end of your friendship. You guys, the three of you have been through everything together. Nothing will change that."

Hermione sighed and nodded her head. "I know, you're right. And you know, I love him too. Just not the way he wants me to."

"He doesn't know what he wants," Ginny said. "Just give him time. This will blow over."

"I hope you're right…" Hermione muttered.

"She is right," said Harry pleasantly from beside her. "We're family, Hermione." She wasn't even aware he'd been listening.

Hermione smiled and threw her arms around him. He was right. They were both right. They were family. Maybe that's why it was hurting so much. She felt herself begin to cry again. She felt stupid and began to pull away from Harry but he put his arms around her and let her cry. So she let it all out. A few minutes later Harry's shirt was soaked, but she felt a lot better.

"I'm sorry, Harry…" she muttered sheepishly.

"Don't be," he said simply. "I'll always be here for you, whenever."

"I will too," piped Ginny. "We both will. And I know Ron will too."

Hermione smiled warmly. "Thanks," she whispered.

She was damned lucky and she knew it.

-

Draco stood there in the hall, brooding for a while, then finally decided that he was hungry and the bitch they had the nerve to call Head Girl wasn't going to stop him from finishing his meal. He could picture it now: Granger was sitting at her table, having a good laugh at his expense with her precious friends.

He strode forward and pushed open the doors swiftly.

Oh, for Fuck's sake!

Granger was sitting there sobbing on Harry-goddamned-Potter's shoulder. They had their arms wrapped around each other like they were holding on for dear life. Ginny Weasley was staring at them and smiling. What the hell was wrong with all of them?

First Weasley, now Potter?

Draco felt absolutely sick now. He turned and walked as quickly as possible in the other direction. Before long he was back in his common room, pacing back and forth, fuming.

What business did Granger have blubbering all over the place like that? Showing weakness? As much as he hated to admit it, and as much of a bastard as he knew he was, he couldn't say the things he wanted to say to her while she was crying.

He couldn't stop it from playing in his head, over and over again. Her eyes shut tightly in pain. He face soaked in tears. Her body shaking against Potter's body. She trusted Potter. Nobody had ever trusted Draco that way and he'd never trusted anyone else. Nobody deserved that kind of trust, not even Saint Potter.

Draco wondered angrily what it would be like to have someone trust him with their life. To have someone trust him enough to sob on his shoulder, to lay their self bare before him. It would never happen and he didn't want it to.

He'd learned a long time ago that showing your pain to another person only brings you more pain. He didn't like feeling. He didn't like to feel raw. He hated feeling out of control, and that was what showing emotion was, giving up control.

He hated Hermione for being able to show emotion and still be in control. It was something he'd never learned. He hated her for being whole while he was broken and empty. He hated her for trusting other people, something he just couldn't do.

Draco finally sat down and stared ahead. The light in the room was dimming as the sun went down but he didn't move. He just looked ahead, remembering things he didn't want to. After some time his thoughts cleared enough for him to notice how dark the room was. He reached over and flipped on the lamp. He saw the flame grow until the room was glowing again.

He looked to the side and saw Hermione's book. Dune. He stared at it for a long time, having a silent battle with it. He was about to give into temptation when the portrait swung open and Granger stumbled in.

She looked up and saw him sitting there and cursed. She straightened up and began to walk across the room. But something was off.

He stood up to head her off. "Granger-"

"Get out of my way," she said in a strained voice, as though speaking hurt her. She pushed past him, and Draco saw her hands. They were covered in blood.

"What the-?" She was clutching her thigh as she stumbled and fell to the floor.
"Jesus, Granger!" Before he could think he reached down to help her up.

"Don't touch me!" she said through a dry sob.

She got to her feet and moved toward the bathroom. Draco stood in horror. She staggered into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. He went to follow her in but as he reached the door he heard her high-pitched voice.

"Stay out, Malfoy."

He froze again. Then began to pace, scowling. He ran his fingers through his hair. He could hear her breathing loudly and erratically through the door. For a few minutes this went on. He didn't know what to do. Should he go get a teacher? But he couldn't just leave her there bleeding…

"Ahhhh!" He heard her scream in pain through the door.

That did it. He flung the door open and saw her sagging against the counter. His eyes went straight to her leg. On her right upper thigh there seemed to be a whole. Her leg was covered in blood. Draco felt the color drain out of his face.

He rushed over and knelt on the floor in front of her.

"What the hell happened?"

"I d-don't know…" she cried. "Oh, God, it hurts!..."

Draco felt sick again, although it had nothing to do with the blood covering her leg. He didn't have a problem with blood.

Hermione was sobbing now, her whole body shaking.

Draco reached forward and lifted her up on the counter. She winced hard when he touched her, and he didn't know if it was from disgust that he was putting his hands on her or pain from her leg.

He lifted up her skirt to get a better look at the wound and she didn't stop him. There was too much blood. He couldn't see anything. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at her leg. Again, she didn't stop him. He siphoned off as much of the blood as he could and when he was more or less finished he could clearly see a small whole in her leg where something had penetrated it.

Hermione was looking down, horrified. "Oh, my God, it's a bullet wound."

"What?"

"From a gun…" she said wincing.

"I know what a bullet wound is, Granger," he snapped.

But she didn't hear him. At this moment she lost consciousness and began to fall off the counter.

Draco caught her and picked her up with ease. He could have used his wand but he didn't even bother. Without even thinking, he carried her as fast as he could to the hospital wing. He pounded on the door and within moments Madame Pomfrey opened the door. She looked at Hermione in Draco's arms and gasped.

"Bring her in," she said sharply. "Quickly."

Draco obeyed. He carried her in and set her down lightly on the bed.

"She's lost a lot of blood…" he said wearily.

"I can see that!" snapped the school nurse. "What happened to her?"

"I don't know," Draco said, sighing. "I think she's been shot."

"What?"

"That's what I said…" he muttered.

"Go get her Head of House," she ordered.

Draco didn't move. He just stared at Hermione's limp body and felt even more color drain from his face.

"Now!" she said again.

Draco left the room quickly and headed straight for the teacher's lounge. It wasn't yet late enough for anyone to have gone to bed. In an instant he was pounding on the door of the lounge.

It opened quickly and Draco saw Severus Snape staring down at him with a startled expression. "Draco?"

"Where's McGonnagal?" he demanded, ignoring propriety.

"I'm here, Mr. Malfoy," she said, walking to the door. "What's the problem?"

"It's Herm, er, Granger. She's hurt." He was out of breath, but the urgency in his voice was quite apparent.

"Where is she?" said McGonnagal sharply.

"Hospital wing."

Draco didn't wait for her. He'd done what he needed to do and he wasn't going to stick around. He walked as quickly as he could back to his room and closed the door behind him. He sunk onto his bed and closed his eyes.

This was unreal.