Fact 1: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling.

Fact 2: I am not her.

Conclusion: It isn't mine.

Before going our separate ways, Malfoy and I agreed that we should meet once a week to talk. His said his dad always owled him on Wednesday morning, so by meeting every Wednesday night he could keep me updated on anything his dad said, and by keeping a standing "appointment" we wouldn't have to run the risk of being caught sending notes or talking to each other.

Sure, it made sense logically, but the real reason I was so willing to meet with Draco Malfoy on a weekly basis was because I thought I might go crazy if I didn't have anyone to talk to, and I wasn't sure that I was ready to talk to anyone else about what had happened. It didn't even make sense in my own head yet, so I knew trying to explain it would be pretty useless. I wasn't sure how I was going to make it from week to week, though. As pathetic as it was, I didn't know how I would respond if something happened to remind me of what had happened, or if someone asked the wrong question. I had always prided myself in being independent and strong, but lately I had been feeling more like glass - waiting to break at any moment.

Gryffindor had beat Ravenclaw in Quidditch, but just barely. Harry narrowly beat out their seeker in the chase for the snitch, and once again... he was everyone's hero. Luckily for me, the victory party in the common room, and Harry and Ron's excitement made it easy for me to slip off to bed after a quick "Congratulations" without sparking a bunch of questions.

Still, I couldn't avoid them forever. Sunday morning I woke up and for a few minutes I couldn't place what the strange feeling in the pit of my stomach was or what was causing the heavy sense of dread hanging over my head. To my surprise, I had slept most of the night, and the sounds and images that had haunted my dreams the night before had left me alone. My confusion didn't last quite long enough, though, because soon all the memories of the past couple of days flooded in all at once and I was filled with so many emotions that I suddenly felt like I was going to be sick. And then I remembered something.

Malfoy had promised me that he was going to get us out of this, and for whatever reason, I believed him.

Of all the terrible things that had happened- being kidnapped by Death Eaters, knowing two of my classmates had been killed, making a deal with the devil- quite literally, having someone else on my side, even if it was Malfoy, seemed to be the only bright spot.

I made my way down to the dining hall and was surprised to see Harry and Ron were already there eating. They usually slept in on the weekends, and when they didn't we all walked down together.

"Hey guys!" I said, waving at them, trying to put as much enthusiasm in my voice as I could muster.

"I hear I missed a great game yesterday."

Quidditch was usually guaranteed to get them talking, but they both just sat there looking at me strangely, Ron with a mouthful of food.

"Its okay, Hermione. We were, umm... kind of worried about you though, right Ron?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, worried. Seemed like we didn't see you for days, 'Mione."

I smiled apologetically, and mentally coached myself on not acting nervous. Keep it simple Hermione, don't give out too information.. you'll make them suspicious.

"Wasn't feeling well... some virus, I guess. Seems to have passed, but now I have all my homework and studying that I should have already been working on." I groaned as I sat down and started loading my plate up with sausages, eggs, bacon, and biscuits. It seemed like it had been forever since I had eaten, and suddenly I felt starved.

After breakfast, we spent most of the day in the common room studying. Not surprisingly, Harry and Ron hadn't spent any more time on their home work than I had. I was glad we had school work as a distraction, because it gave me the opportunity to spend time with them without actually having to talk about anything.

"Damn it!"

"Ronald... must you curse so much? That is pretty much all you've said all day."

"Well, excuse me, Hermione, but if you would just help me with it like I asked you to, you wouldn't have to listen to me."

I sighed heavily with exasperation, and quickly weighed the benefits of not having to listen to Ron moan and complain for another hour against how important I thought it was for him to do it himself.

Eventually, my annoyed side won.

"Your potion turned hot pink because you didn't heat the Wignam root before mixing it in. It grew hair because you forgot to stir it counter clock wise for the first sixty stirs. Honestly, Ron, it's really quite simple if you just read the instructions."

"The first sixty stirs? Oh right... quite simple."

Harry snickered at out banter, but as usual- he didn't comment. Instead, he just groaned and glared at me.

"I can't believe you talked us into skipping lunch to do homework, Hermione. I'm starved."

I smirked at him, but I was actually looking forward to supper, too. Earlier, all the food I had eaten for breakfast seemed like enough to last for days, but now my stomach was starting to turn hungrily. I looked down at my watch for probably the hundredth time, and smiled at Harry.

"Well, come on then, let's go!"

--

It seemed that Harry, Ron, and I weren't the only ones who were hungry. We got to the dining hall just at time to eat, but it was already pretty full. As we all sat down, food didn't appear in front of us as it usually did. I started to ask someone what was going on but quickly realized that no one had any more idea than I did. All around me were murmurs and whispers, all asking basically the same question.

After a few minutes, there was a loud clinking sound and we all looked up to see Dumbledore waiting for us to settle down.

"What's going on?" I whispered anxiously to Harry.

Dumbledore only made speeches when there was actually something to speak about. He wasn't one to delay food unless there was a reason, and that made me nervous.

"Students, it is with deep regret that I am making this announcement to you all tonight. Two of Hogwarts best, brightest, and most respected students have been discovered dead. Clara Epperson and Pierce Madison were found deep in the forbidden forest this evening. I know this must come as a great shock to all of you, as it was to myself. As we mourn the loss of these two young people, it is important that we don't lose sight of... "

Dumbledore's voice continued to echo through the dining hall, people continued to gasp and sob. There was still whispering going on all around me, but all I could hear was Clara screaming over and over again in my mind as a black cane came down over her at the hand of a Death Eater. Over and over...

I closed my eyes tightly, trying to stop the floor from spinning beneath me- trying desperately to ease the splintering pain that was ripping through my chest.

I looked down and saw that I was gripping the table so tightly my knuckles had turned white, and forced myself to look back up. Was Dumbledore still talking? I couldn't tell anymore. All I could hear was static... static and Clara's screams.

My eyes grazed over the other tables and landed on the grey colored eyes that were looking back at me from the Slytherin table.

Before I could even think about what I was doing, I jumped up from my seat and ran out of the dining hall. I wanted to keep running until I ran out of breath completely... until I couldn't possibly take one more breath and would have no choice but to die and escape all of this completely. But half way up the stairs I tripped over my own feet and landed huddled up on a step, shaking uncontrollably and trying desperately to reign my thoughts in. Why did I feel so incredibly guilty? I hadn't asked for all of this any more than Clara or Pierce did, and it wasn't my fault that I had managed to live when they didn't. In all honesty- chances were, I wouldn't be alive much longer anyway. My life was hinging completely on my ability to keep my cool and do what I had promised I would, and I was already proving that keeping my cool wasn't going to be easy for me.

I stopped breathing completely when I felt someone sit down beside me. Of course, I thought, did you really think no one would notice that exit of yours?

But the voice I heard wasn't the one I was expecting.

"Granger, are you okay?"

If Draco Malfoy following me had surprised me, it was nothing compared to how I felt when I heard the softness in his voice. He sounded like he really cared whether I was okay or not, and when I looked up at him, something about the intense look on his face made me want to tell him the truth.

Despite my unexpected resolve to be honest with him and tell him that I was actually very far from okay, I suddenly felt too exhausted to figure the words out, so I simply shook my head slowly, never taking my eyes off of him.

"I know you aren't okay. But... well, we can talk about it... if you want to."

I could tell that this was completely out of his comfort zone, and I felt touched at his effort to make this simple human interaction with me... something that would have seemed perfectly natural coming from someone else, seemed almost epic coming from Draco Malfoy, and I found myself feeling like it would be a shame to waste this moment.

I nodded at him, and lifted myself up off the step.

I don't know what exactly Malfoy had requested of the Room of Requirement, but the atmosphere itself made me feel a little more calm. The walls were draped with deep gold colored fabric, and the entire floor of plush, dark blue carpet was almost covered with deep, fluffy pillows. In the very center of the room, there was a round, brick fireplace with a glowing fire at the center off it, giving the room a warm glow.

Draco walked a couple of paces ahead of me and sat down near the fireplace. I followed, and seated myself across from him, keeping a couple of pillows space between us.

I looked up at him and smiled before I started talking, hoping that he would somehow understand how much I appreciated all of this.

"I'm just so scared. I know I'm supposed to be brave or something, but... maybe I was sorted into the wrong house, or maybe I'm just getting weaker... but I just want to cry all the time. I feel confused because I still don't even understand what I've agreed to, much less how to get out of it. And I just feel so guilty. Clara and Pierce are dead. They're dead, Draco. And maybe if I had said something, or done something, or... talked to them somehow. I don't know, I just feel... I feel so awful"

I never realized it was possible to feel so much better and so much worse at the same time. Just saying all of these things out loud made my heart feel like it was breaking, but it also felt like a huge weight had just been lifted off my shoulders. I bit my bottom lip, trying desperately to stop myself from crying again, and waited for him to reply... hoping that maybe somehow he had come up with an amazing plan and could wipe all my fears away.

"I know you are scared. Hell, I'm scared and its my own dad we are dealing with here. But, you have to understand that there is nothing you could have done to save them. Even had they agreed to help, I doubt they would have let them out of there alive, anyway. They only needed one of you and you were the one they wanted all along."

He must have noticed the grimace that flashed across my face, because he stopped talking. Before I knew what was happening, he moved the pillows out of the way and closed the distance between us so that we were barely sitting a foot apart. Moving slowly, timidly, he brought his hand to my face and lifted my chin up so that my eyes were level with his.

I instantly felt my shoulders relax and my breathing calm. I didn't think about Voldermort, or hearing Clara scream. I didn't think about homework or Harry and Ron. Suddenly, I felt like I had been freezing and someone had turned the heater up, or like I had been in intense pain and didn't even realize it until it was relieved.

I took a deep breath, trying to clear my head and at the same moment, Draco moved his hand and leaned back away from me.

"We should probably go. People will be wondering where you are."

I smiled weakly, remembering my dramatic exit from the dining hall.

"No one will notice, except Harry and Ron. They will just assume I forgot about a paper I had to write or something."

"Never the less," he replied with a smirk "you can't stay here all night."

My stubborn instincts kicked in at hearing the word can't, and I raised my eyebrow at him.

"And why can't I?"

I looked at him expectantly, waiting for his comeback, but he just laughed and shook his head at me.

I had been kidding at first, but now that I thought about it... staying here sounded like a great idea. Just being in this room made me feel better, no one would be able to find me, and maybe I would sleep better in here.

"I'm serious. Can't I stay... just tonight?"

He opened his mouth to say something, and I could tell from the look on his face that it was going to be some variety of "no", so I hurried on before he could say it.

"Please... it won't hurt anything, and no one even has to know. I just...I haven't been sleeping very well. Every little noise makes me jump, and I feel better here... happier, almost."

"Jesus, Granger... I don't know why you think you have to ask my permission. It's not like I sleep here. I just don't think its a very good idea, but if it means that much to you- I'll leave you to it."

He stood up to go, but he seemed frustrated - angry almost- and I couldn't figure out why. It shouldn't matter to him where I sleep, right? Unless... but no, surely Draco Malfoy wasn't sleeping in the room of requirement.

"Draco, wait!" I called after him just before he got to the door.

"What is it, Granger?"

"You can stay if you want." My words came out quietly and for a minute I was afraid he hadn't even heard me.

Then, he spun around quickly to face me, and I could see the look of confusion on his face from across the room.

"I mean... its a big room, right? And, I think that maybe..." I bit my lip, not quite believing what I was about to say, " maybe I would sleep better if someone else was here." I was barely talking in a whisper, and his features softened at my words.

"Sure, Granger. I'll stay if you want." He walked slowly back toward the center of room, sighing heavily, and positioned himself back on the floor.

Even though he was acting as if he was only agreeing to stay for my sake, I could tell he was relieved. Apparently I wasn't the only one that felt more comfortable in here.