Hello lovelies!

I tried to post this chapter yesterday, but FFN was being weird and didn't let me. Either way I really hope you enjoy the chapter!

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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and only the story line and any OC's belong to me.

The potent smell of peaches was heavy in the air, the summer breeze blew through a shock of white hair as its owner sat crossed-legged on top of her best mate's bed, fingers tracing absently across the royal purple bed sheets.

"Something is horribly wrong, Pans," Riley murmured, head toggling towards her friend who was lying on the bed beside her.

"Sirius?" Pandora asked as she sat up, reaching out and brushing Riley's choppy bangs out of her eyes.

"It's like there's this…gaping hole in my chest—"

Pandora rolled off the bed, placing her hands on her hips, "I think we should go to St. Mungo's," Pandora said, pale eyes staring at her friend, unblinking.

"St. Mungo's?" Riley asked in a daze, head tilting to the side in confusion, unfolding her legs so they were hanging off the end of the bed.

"Come along now, we mustn't tarry," Pandora replied airily, walking round the bed and stopping in front of Riley.

"But…Pans—" Riley didn't get anything else out before Pandora grabbed ahold of her hand and tugged her off of the bed.

Riley barely managed to snatch up her black leather boots on her way out the room, much less get a word in edgewise. With that nothing more was said, and the two girls set out for St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

They must have looked quite the pair as they entered the hospital: which was on the other side of the glass window of the red-bricked, condemned department store—Purge and Dowse, Ltd.

Riley in her bright blue shorts, an oversized white shirt that fell off her shoulder, and her boots were on her feet now, albeit untied, and Pandora in her mid thigh lilac sundress, black strappy shoes, and broad, black floppy hat on her head.

When they arrived, the receptionist's desk had a little green sign placed on it saying that she was on break: Riley saw it and immediately made a line for the powder blue armchairs in the waiting area, before Pandora stopped her.

Pandora placed her hands on Riley's shoulders and after a bit of convincing, she managed to rope Riley into searching for Sirius's room—part of Riley still wanted to wait and make sure it was okay before they trotted off through the halls willy nilly.

They'd been searching for some time, ducking and avoiding Healers that may ask too many questions when a voice said softly, "Riley?"

Relief washed through her as soon as she heard the voice, because she recognised it instantly—Riley loved the person it belonged to, very, very much.

"Hermione," Riley sighed happily, spinning on her heel and catching sight of the raven haired girl—whose arms she dove into, drinking in her warm, comforting smell.

Riley pulled back just enough to look at Hermione properly, her bottom lip trembling as she asked, "so he is here...is—is he okay?"

"They still working on him, I couldn't stand waiting so I told everyone I needed to get some fresh air," Hermione said sadly, reaching up to brush Riley's locks backwards and away from her face, before she tenderly stroked her cropped hair.

Riley's airway closed, twisting shut as a hand ripped through her skin, directly into her chest cavity and grabbed hold of her lungs—squeezing them tighter by the second.

She somehow stole enough oxygen back to ask quietly, "was it his parents?"

Hermione immediately stiffened in her arms, "we're not sure. All we know is—his arm was pretty messed up, it got slashed with a cursed blade, and I—he'll be fine, Riles!" Hermione added quickly when she took note of the blatant fear in Riley's eyes.

Riley nodded, numb.

Hermione glanced over the Hufflepuff's shoulder at Pandora—whose pale eyes pierced right into Hermione's soul, thoroughly flicking through all of her misgivings; Hermione swallowed jerkily and averted her eyes.

"We can go find the others, Hermione," Pandora said suddenly.

Hermione opened her mouth as if to say something, but Pandora shook her head firmly, "you go and get some fresh air, we'll be fine."

"I can take you to—"

"We'll be fine," Pandora insisted, one hand on Riley's shoulder and the other on Hermione's face. "We'll be fine."

Several moments pass before Hermione nodded her head, stepping out of Riley's embrace entirely—stopping to fondly stroke her cheek once more, before she began to meander aimlessly down the hall.

"Something seems a bit off with Hermione, are you sure we should be leaving her alone?" Riley asked as she watched the retreating form of her dear friend.

Pandora giggled softly, "she's not alone—now, we should go and find Sirius's room, don't you agree?"

"Yes, of course," Riley answered, lacing her fingers through Pandora's and allowing her friend to guide her down the bright white corridor. They had a wizard they needed to see.

Hermione wandered around the back of St. Mungo's, and down the street a fair bit before ducking into the closest alleyway.

She pressed her palms against the cool brickwork of the seemingly decrepit building, and drew in a haggard breath—she didn't know how long she stayed there, but after a while a deep, smooth voice made her jump and instinctively her hand flew to her wand.

Hermione's eyes settled on her companion: Draco, who had an already lit fag held between two fingers and one hand shoved into his pocket as he slowly approached her.

"How are you holding up?" Draco asked in a gentle, coaxing tone when he stopped in front of her.

"I'm not," Hermione replied honestly, sniffing harshly as she stole his fag from him—he merely quirked a brow as she raised it to her lips and took a large drag.

Draco nodded silently, accepting the cigarette when she handed it back to him.

"Things are changing…" Draco said after some time, the rest of his sentence left hanging in the air.

"Yea," Hermione responded, resting her head against his arm for a brief moment. "They are."

Draco was just thinking about putting his arm around her when she slowly stepped away from him, hesitating before she sauntered down the alley from whence she came, arms swinging loosely at her sides.

Hermione paused long enough to call softly over her shoulder, "we should get back."

Draco nodded to himself, taking one final drag of his fag before dropping it onto the ground, crushing it with the heel of his shoe, tiny wisps of smoke drifting upwards from the extinguished cigarette.

Draco watched Hermione for a few moments before he trailed after her: he eventually caught up to her, and when he did she reached over and squeezed his hand for a brief moment—her fingers trembling.

Things were certainly changing, but, Draco feared, not for the better.