Draco didn't wait up for Hermione after his shower. He briskly got dressed, magically dried his hair, took his bag and left in, what would seem from the outside, a hurry. Hermione freaking Granger could miss all of her classes for all he cared.

Draco hardly made it three feet in front of the common room, before bumping right into Professor McGonagall.

"Mister Malfoy!" She exclaimed. Her cat-like eyes seemed more worried this morning, and less determined. Her eyebrows were creased, and her mouth was scrunched up unhappily.

"Yes, headmistress?" He replied to her, bored.

"Where is Miss Granger, I need to speak with her immediately." Draco wasn't sure what Hermione had done to force this stick up McGonagall's ass – maybe not returned her holiday homework early, like usual, and McGonagall wanted to check to see if Draco had killed her?- but didn't want to find out.

"She's inside the common room. I think," Draco shrugged non-chalantly, trying to pretend that he wasn't curious as to what the fuss was about. His mind and stomach were whizzing with curiosity.

"Thank you," McGonagall entered the room, without so much as a knock, and closed it firmly behind her before Draco had the chance to say anything.

Part of Draco wanted to be nosy, but the other part of him knew better than to try and sneak up on McGonagall. That woman was not one to be crossed, especially by a Slytherin. Another part of Draco was worried, though he tried to dismiss it. Was Hermione in trouble?

Draco squirmed a little in his shoes, contemplating what to do next, before deciding that he would just question Hermione when she came down for breakfast, or maybe after a class or something.

And with that in mind, Draco strode off to breakfast.

Draco didn't see Hermione for the rest of the day, which he wasn't sure whether to be concerned or rejoicing about. It seemed as though her friends had also noticed her disappearance, as well, as Dean approached Draco later that afternoon to ask of her whereabouts.

"Why would I know?" Draco scoffed at the half-blood.

"The last anyone saw of her was when she went off with you yesterday." Dean replied accusingly. "If you've done anything, Malfoy, I swear…" He let the words hang threateningly in the air.

There was a pregnant pause, before Draco straightened himself taller, looking down a little on Dean. "I don't like what you're implying, Thomas." Draco and Dean were almost chest-to-chest. "She and I share the head boy and girl dormitories, and I haven't seen her either, since last night when we went to bed. Why would I even want to see her?"

He didn't know why he was explaining himself and trying to prove his innocence to Dean, as he didn't give a toss, and making up with the Gryffindors wasn't in his list of top priorities this year.

"McGonagall was looking for her before breakfast, this morning, however," Draco let on, stepping away from Dean. "If there's anyone you want to be speaking to, it's her."

Dean nodded at the new information, before turning on his heel, thanking Draco and leaving.

Where the hell was she?

"Hermione?" Draco stepped into their common room after class tentatively. There was no word from her, even after Dean had asked McGonagall where Hermione was. Draco, albeit careless, wasn't stupid. He had been around enough girls in his lifetime to understand when one needed time alone, and he knew he wasn't meant to intrude if she was, indeed, getting personal space.

"What?" He heard her hiss from inside. Draco took another hesitant step towards the sound, and finally saw her sitting on the floor with her back pressed against the couch, rubbing her eyes.

The common room was uncomfortably warm, Draco thought, and because it was just coming out of summer, he saw no point in the fireplace being on either, but he wasn't about to go and question what she was thinking when she lit it.

"Where the fuck were you today?" The accusing question slipped from his mouth like butter on a hot frying pan.

He could now see her puffy, red-rimmed eyes. Her normally proud shoulders were slumped as she cradled her legs to her chest tightly, as though she were trying to strangle them. The rings around her eyes seemed more prominent under the light of the fireplace, giving the impression that a small child had punched her in the eyes.

"Here." Her answer was brisk. She didn't even turn to face him when she said it.

Draco was a little stunned at how detached she was being. He hadn't done much to anger her since they had arrived, as opposed to previous years. This behaviour was something Draco used to often see after breaks from Pansy Parkinson when he conveniently "forgot" to owl her back. He never expected it from Hermione Granger, the witch who was often positively remarked for keeping the Boy Who Lived alive for a year.

The fire crackled away absently. Draco wasn't sure what to make of the behaviour. Maybe she had a bad night's sleep? But why had McGonagall been looking for her? What was so important to have the elderly witch worried?

"Did McGonagall finally catch onto you stealing other, more worthy, people's magic?" The words maliciously tumbled from his mouth, a sneer re-painting its way onto the pale boy's face. "Did she kick you out? That's got to be the only decent thing that that old hag has ever done for the school. Do you need help packing your dirt? Don't want to be here for much longer so other people don't figure out what you've done."

And then, spoken so softly Draco wasn't sure if the shocking words were meant for his ears, Hermione mumbled, "I wish I didn't have magic."

Draco was taken aback. No smart remark back at him? No nothing? Who was she?

Draco was upset that she didn't fight back, because in a way he thrived off the attention she gave him. She was the only person for him to talk to, other than the first-years who were all scared out of their wits of him, and Dean that morning, though he was convinced it was a one-time thing.

Draco, unsure of what to say at a time like this, just looked at her weirdly, before leaving the room. If Pansy had taught Draco anything, it was to walk away at a time like this, if they weren't friends. So that's exactly what he did.

"Tomorrow? Merlin, that's close!" Draco caught Hermione's voice sound around the common room before dinner.

Light-footed, Draco made his way to the door that connected the corridor where their dorms were and the common room. He pressed his ear up to the door to listen in.

"With the Wizengamot, I would suggest telling them that they are welcome to view your memories of that day and fully explain yourself. Remind them of the situation that you were in, and what danger that put your parents in, as well. Talk to them about your fears of Voldemort's reach, and I will try to be present. You must make your way to the ministry before eleven am tomorrow."

Hermione was going in front of the ministry? Dare he say it, but wasn't the post-Dark Lord Ministry in love with her and her group of friends or something? Why were they putting her on trial?

She probably deserved it.

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione replied, sounding more exhausted than Draco ever remembered hearing her sound. "Do I need permission to leave tomorrow morning or…?" Draco could sense the hesitance Hermione had of going to the ministry.

"Consider it granted, Miss Granger," McGonagall's footsteps sounded away from Draco. "Feel free to use the Floo Powder network in my office to Floo yourself to Mr Weasley's office. Him and his wife have been informed of your presentation, because as I understand it they are your caregivers currently?"

"Yes, thank you, Professor."

"No problem, Miss Granger." Draco heard the door to their common room open and then close, a smirk plastering itself victoriously across his face.

Draco decided this would be the moment he would reveal himself to Hermione. What could she say in her defence? The things he heard were pretty damning. He opened the door, and stepped out from where he was hiding. The look on Hermione's face was a strange mixture of scared, tired and anxiety that Draco felt half-bad for what he was about to do.

"So the Ministry has caught onto your magic-stealing. Got sloppy about it, did you?" He saw every word hit her right in the chest, where he wanted those knives buried deeply. "About time, really. I don't understand why they didn't catch onto you sooner, like I did."

Hermione stared deeply into Draco's eyes. She was seated at her desk, that Draco had indeed spent an evening arranging on the opposite side of the room to his, to make sure her germs wouldn't reach him. Her chocolate eyes were pools of sadness, though that passed completely over the top of Draco's head. Various papers were scattered in front of the witch, one on top of the other haphazardly. However, he could see the Ministry's stamp on the corner of each of the sheets.

Hermione cut out her staring, and gathered the papers into her arms. She walked past Draco coolly and wordlessly. Draco could only make out a few words from the papers in her arms such as "memory" and "muggle parents" before Hermione hugged the papers closer to her chest.

"What I'm going to the Ministry for is none of your concern, Malfoy. I have no idea how much of the conversation you over heard, but let me tell you, it's not you think." She scooted past him briskly, her bushy hair tickling the top of his nose as she did so. He was too close to the door that she was trying to get to.

What was she hiding?

Before he got the chance to pester her even more, she slammed the door to her room, the click of a lock following shortly. No doubt that the clever witch had also placed a few charms on her door so that Draco couldn't Alohomora it open.

In the morning, she was gone, before Draco could even open his eyes.