Ron, Harry, and Ginny stood at the Portrait of the Fat Lady. They looked annoyed, but they made no motion to enter the portrait. It seemed from a distance that the Fat Lady was scolding them. Hermione hurried toward them, very pink-faced and wearing a cloak, hat, and gloves. "I got back a couple of hours ago, I've just been down to visit Hagrid and Buck — I mean Witherwings," she said breathlessly.

"She's changed the password," Ginny said, silencing whatever Ron had been saying.

"Oh," Hermione turned pink. "It's abstinence."

"Precisely," said the Fat Lady in a feeble voice, and swung forward to reveal the portrait hole. Ginny quickly disappeared inside.

"What's up with her?" asked Harry.

"Overindulged over Christmas, apparently," said Hermione, rolling her eyes as she led the way into the packed common room. "She and her friend Violet drank their way through all the wine in that picture of drunk monks down by the Charms corridor."

"Anyway . . ." She rummaged in her pocket for a moment, then pulled out a scroll of parchment with Dumbledore's writing on it. Professor Dumbledore had caught her just before she had walked down to check on Hagrid.

"Why did you leave early, Hermione?" Ron looked nervous to address her, as though she might lash out at him. Though there had been a spoken forgiveness between the brothers, Hermione and Ron had left their fight in a stasis.

"I needed some time to think…" It was all she could offer, the channel between them still too wide.

He nodded, and smiled slightly, accepting this as a gesture of peace rather than distance. His face fell as he looked past her, and Hermione heard Lavender's voice calling him. His eyes widened, and she could tell he was trying to find an escape. It wasn't to be, however, because she had laid eyes on him. He left, a look of defeat on his face. Hermione offered him a slight smile as he went to sit with Lavender by the fireplace, though he seemed oblivious to the kind gesture.

"Hermione," Harry began once they were alone, "I haven't had a chance to tell you -"

She could tell from his serious tone what was coming, though she didn't stop him.

Harry recounted all that he had overheard between Malfoy and Snape the evening of Slughorn's party. When he had finished, Hermione sat in thought for a moment and then said, "Don't you think — ?"

"— he was pretending to offer help so that he could trick Malfoy into telling him what he's doing?" Harry's voice wavered uncertainly, weighted with stress.

"Well, yes," said Hermione. Something gnawed at her, however. Malfoy's face flashed before her. Not his sneering persona, but the boy who had warned her to stay away from dangers. "But maybe you're worried for nothing. He's just a -"

"Just a kid? Hermione, you can't be serious."

"Hmm . . . did either of them actually mention Voldemort's name?"

Harry frowned, trying to remember. "I'm not sure . . . Snape definitely said 'your master,' and who else would that be?"

"I don't know," said Hermione, biting her lip. "Maybe his father?"

Their conversation about Malfoy and his escapades continued far too long for Hermione's liking, considering the confusing meeting the two had shared in Knockturn Alley. She didn't know what stopped her from bringing it up to Harry. Perhaps it was the conversation's turn toward Greyback. Perhaps it was Harry's unwavering belief in Slytherin's evil nature. Perhaps it was because she didn't like to make accusations without any proof. Whatever it was that stayed her tongue, it left her feeling cold as Harry left for his meeting with Dumbledore that night.

Harry had left Hermione the map and cloak, in case she had reason to use them. Red-faced, Hermione had reminded Harry that Fred was quite busy at work, but he simply laughed as he ran off for his rendezvous. At least it had brought him some slight happiness to tease her.

She pulled the map out and stared at it absently. She figured it would at least make her rounds as Prefect easier.

What she did not anticipate was watching the dot named Draco Malfoy slinking off to the Room of Requirement.

"What could he possibly be sneaking around for?" She gathered Harry's cloak, and with the curiosity of a cat she set off into the dark castle.

The halls were quiet, and Hermione had to take great care to make sure her footsteps didn't echo as she set a punishing pace toward where Malfoy was going. He had already disappeared into the room by the time she arrived, his name no longer showing on the map. Try as she might, she couldn't get the room to let her in.

She settled onto the floor. She could wait as long as she needed.

She awoke to the sound of muttered cursing.

"Damn thing still won't work...What am I missing? I'm running out of time, and I just can't think…" Draco pounded a fist against the wall. "Dammit!"

When he turned, Hermione would have sworn his face glistened with tears, but he quickly ran his hands over his face and any evidence of distress was gone. All that remained was a face that seemed far too thin, and eyes that looked gaunt and sleepless.

Draco looked around the hall, his eyes widening with suspicion. "Vanilla. Not a smell that's usually hanging out in this corridor, Granger."

She stayed silent. He looked around again, and shook his head. "Probably under Potter's cloak, right? Don't follow me again, Granger. And tell Potter to lay off. It won't end well if you keep sticking your noses where they don't belong."

Hermione could feel the anger rising within her chest. "Why, Malfoy? Why do you keep warning me?"

Draco whipped around and faced where her voice came from. "Granger, you're so incredibly stupid. Why do you trust so deeply? What if I were to attack you right now? Who would save you? Does anyone even know you're here?"

"What would you do to me, Malfoy? You're not some killer."

"Don't try to tell me who I am, Granger. You have no idea who I am. You have no idea!" His voice was restrained, but his face was growing red. "You're going to end up getting yourself killed because you trust too easily. Don't you understand? They will kill you. They will kill everyone who would shed a tear for you." He began to walk away.

"Malfoy, what does it have to do with you?" She asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"You have a choice, Granger. You could leave. You could run away." He told her, looking back over his shoulder. "But don't say I didn't warn you. If you stay, you will be in danger." With that he turned and walked away, leaving her in the dim corridor with more questions.