Prologue

It was the whispers that had brought her out of the darkness. They grew silent as she groaned and twin brown eyes fluttered groggily open. Her body lay adjacent with the floor with waves of bushy brown hair wreathed around a horribly aching head. With a soft grimace of displeasure twisting her features, Hermione very carefully pulled herself up into a sitting position and watched as a variety of colors swirled sickeningly in front of her eyes.

"Merlin's beard... " the young witch murmured, cradling her two sizes too large head in both hands. Hermione didn't register what the stickiness that coated the pads of her fingers was. Slowly, she dropped her hands down and stared dazedly at the cherry red staining her fingertips. "Is that ... blood?" The girl's brow furrowed in confusion as she brought her hands back up to press against the increased throbbing in her skull. Red streaks of bright blood swept across her forehead as Hermione pressed harder and harder. It seemed as though the pounding would crack right through her skull and all her thoughts would tumble out onto the cold stone floor below.

Moonlight spilled past the tall narrow windows set into the dark stone wall of the castle. Hermione chanced a looked through her interlaced fingers then furrowed her brow in consernation. Something was horribly wrong here. The once proud suits of armor that had lined this particular hallway looked like they'd been blasted apart. Bits and pieces of polished metal lay warped and discarded all across the floor. The paintings that had been within reach seemed to have been ripped from the wall and turned into little more than kindling. Solitary portrait frames that were far out of the average student's reach were completely bereft of their subjects. Doors to empty classrooms had been wrenched off their hinges or very nearly so. A swooping sensation hit Hermione in the gut as one door gave one last high pitched squeak and fell still. Pressing a hand to her heart, Hermione sucked in a deep breath of air and scolded herself quietly. "Just a castle draft. It was just a castle draft, Hermione. Really now. You've nothing to fear from Hogwarts. There's nothing dangerous left here to fear after-"

Hermione's tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth and as her words dried up. It felt as though her stomach had fallen straight into her shoes. There, in front of the window where she sat, lay a very dark and very wide stain. A fresh stain that dragged itself towards the door that had moved just moments before.

A blood stain.

Hermione's breath came to her in quick panicked gasps as she clutched at the front of her robes. "I ... I need to get out of here. It's past curfew. If Filch finds me with this mess around ... "

With an effort the young witch picked herself up from the floor. It was a task while trying to keep her eyes on the door. The world twisted dizzingly to remind Hermione she had to keep concentrating just to walk and sent her flying. Hermione whimpered as she connected with the wall, hands outstretched against the reassuring cool stone, as she closed her eyes tight and waited for the floor to stop bucking. She hoped whatever had caused this stayed in the classroom. Hermione hadn't ever run into any dark creatures when it was just her by herself. She was more than a little desperately praying that Harry or Ron would come by under the cover of the invisibility cloak and whisk her away to the Gyffindor Tower.

A few deep breaths later and still no Harry or Ron. More silence passed and the dancing spots had disappeared from behind her eyes. The small figure of the Gryffindor drew herself up with a shaky breath before turning her eyes down the darkened corridor. Her eyes tracked back several times towards the classroom with the broken door on it's sagging hinges. A smear of red followed her progress down the hall until the blood had been wiped completely from Hermione's trailing hand.

The moonlight spilled across the taut surface of an old oil painting and revealed the returning forms of the portraits. "Poor dear..." one wizened lady murmured, eyes trained sympathetically upon Hermione's retreating form. "Do you think she'll remember what happened?"

Off to the side in an ornately gilded frame sat a giant of a wizard. The gruff old man settled himself in his picture and took a large pull off his tankard, beer pouring down upon his sopping wet beard. He took a massive paw and wiped away the excess as best he could before growling out disgustedly, "Fo' that bonnie lass's sake, Ah sure as bloody hell hope not."

The figure of the old woman stared after the young witch before she turned back to the other inhabitants of her painting. The muffled conversation disappeared as Hermione slipped away and around a stone corner. After just twenty steps she was drained and exhausted. Five more and the colored spots had returned to her rapidly dissipating vision. Logic and good sense took a hold of Hermione Granger as she leaned heavily against the unyielding strength of the wall. Something was digging firmly into her side.

The young witch reached down and the chilled brass of a handle filled her hand. The spots had begun pressing in around the edges of her vision more persistently. Cotton had to have been stuffed into her ears because all she heard now was a vague high pitched buzzing. With heavy fingers, Hermione clutched determinedly at the handle and pressed all of her leaden weight against the ancient woodden door. It opened much too generously much too fast. The door swung around and slammed into the wall as the girl staggered through the archway.

The room swam before her eyes as Hermione stumbled forwards. Her breath left in a noisy gasp as she accidentally collided with a desk, her body collapsing over the creaking structure which noisily voiced its protest. A muddy thought floated through her mind causing a mild sense of hysteria to overtake her.

'Whenever did Peeves start oiling the door hinges as part of his mischievous pranks? Filch will want to keep him around if he keeps fixing things instead of breaking them.'

The room around her was already dark. It only grew darker with each passing second. Already the ache of running into the desk was spreading throughout her upper thighs. Hermione's eyelids grew heavy as though someone's fingertips pressing into the backs of her eyes. It made her want to close them all the more.

The edge of darkness held her body tantalizingly close. Hermione gazed down into its depthlessness and stared into a world devoid of dreams. 'This must be what people experience when they're about to lose consciousness,' she reasoned quietly to herself. 'It is rather comforting. Not at all the scary experience you'd think it would be.'

She took back her words instantly. There was a sudden flare as brilliant white light exploded in the blackness. Hermione whipped her head quickly to the other side with what could nearly be called a whimper of pain. Squinting weakly, the young witch unwillingly tilted her head back towards the light and tried to decipher who or what was putting off such a glaring brilliance. Logically, her mind gave her a sound enough reason to accept as she murmured, "It's only a ghost...I must have alarmed the poor...thing..."

The sensations of light and sound, the aching pain in her upper thighs, the rush and pulse of the blood throbbing in her head, finally grew to be to much. Hermione's eyes rolled back exposing the blank whiteness as her consciousness receeded.

Silence once more enveloped the room as the Gryffindor's body slumped bonelessly over the desk. Hermione's fingers remained loosely curled into fists as her breathing became shallow and quiet.

A shadow began to move from somewhere near the huge wooden outline of the teacher's desk. It heaved a weary sigh and was now standing besides the unconscious girl. It ran a cool hand over the witch's perspiring forehead and into her wild disheveled hair. The sunburst of light which had burst through the darkness was dancing on the end of a wand tip, loosely held by delicate pale fingers. Luminous silvery hair that was almost white, shining like liquid ice, brushed over those fingers right as the figure bent down to observe her new student. Pale artic blue eyes watched the girl with a great deal of uneasiness dancing within their depths.

"What is...?"

The professor leisurely pulled her hand back, enjoying the soft feel of curls beneath her fingertips even though she was still concerned about why this familiar girl had stumbled in and keeled over across one of her desks. Perhaps a little too much butterbeer with friends? The smile that had been growing slipped as the woman pulled her hand back. Her eyes widened as they were greeted with the thin red blood smeared against her pale skin in the bright light.

The wand dropped. Darkness rushed in upon the scene, enveloping every detail, hiding all that was visible to the naked eye. Hurried and anxious breathing blanketed the hush of a once normal Hogwarts night. Only a few whispered words were heard in the suddenly oppressive classroom as Fleur knelt besides the unconscious girl, hands brushing away bushy brown hair, revealing a wicked looking gash.

"Mon dieu...Hermione..."