has been going bonkers the past week. I was supposed to update on this last Monday, I think, but the Login/Signup wasn't on the FFnet page. Anyhow, here's the 6th chapter.

CHAPTER 6

Hermione ran up the stairs, tears running down her cheeks. Running did not help her current state; she had a harder time breathing because of the lack of air and the pain she felt on her chest, as well as her throat. She could pass out any moment. But no, all she needed was a good damn cry and an alone time. She ignored the looks people had been giving her. She even had the urge to scream at them, tell them to mind their own business. She scornfully remembered every word written in the letter:

Hermione,

I'm so sorry I have to drop this on you like a bomb. I don't know how else to say it. I sent Bill to check on your parents. He went to the flat where they were living, but they weren't there. He waited until noon, but only your mum came home. And she was in hysterics. Hermione…your father has been murdered. Merlin, I am very sorry. I really am. Arthur has been conducting an investigation in that area. He's suspecting it might be one of Voldemort's schemes. Your mum's memory has been altered yet again. We believe she was tortured… I asked Shacklebolt if it was safe for you to see your mum but he firmly told us that you are still a high priority in the Dark Lord's list. It would be much safer if you stay there at Hogwarts. We'll see to it that your mum would be relocated to a place where she would be unfound by the death eaters. I'm deeply sorry, Hermione. I don't know what else to say.

Our condolences, Arthur and Molly

A new set of tears began streaming down Hermione's face again. She didn't know what to do, she wanted to scream out her frustration, but she couldn't. It was too painful. Here she was, taking her tests leisurely and confidently, while her parents were being harassed, and her dad, killed. She was a high priority yet her parents were attacked. Was this really the price of being friends with Harry? Why was she the one suffering?

She clenched her fists hardly, feeling her nails dig into her palm. She felt blood ooze from it, but rightfully ignored it. The adrenaline rush, and the heartache she felt surfaced more than the pain she had inflicted on herself. She stopped running as she reached the door leading to the common room. After saying the password to the lady in the portrait, she stomped her way inside the common room and paused a while as she met gray eyes.

Malfoy had his eyes on her, and by the look on his face, it was quite evident that he know something was wrong. Hermione was well aware how blotchy her face was from the crying and the tears that had sprung from her eyes. She was now openly crying in front of him. She did not care if she was currently a sight for laughs. Damn it. Her father died, and her mother might as well have died from the torture and trauma she had gone through. She could not even move her feet, it was as if they were plastered on the floor. She could almost feel her knees go jell-o in a very bad way, the same way her arms felt as if it were hanging on her limbs by a thread. The grip she had on her hands loosened, the same time blood started to drip on the carpet.

Draco's eyes trailed her arms and hands and his eyes visibly widened as he saw blood dripping from Hermione's hands. He stood up from the couch abruptly. But he did not know what to do. Granger looked murderous, yet she looked beaten. It could not have been because of Weasley. No. This one looked serious. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it afterwards as he found himself unable to actually say something. His books fell on the floor but he did not pick it up. He was shocked at the sight of Granger. Hell, shocked was an understatement. He was frightened. Granger was crying hard, her body visibly shaking with tremor, and her hands…Merlin her hands were bleeding. Had she even noticed that she was hurting herself?

"Granger," Draco croacked. He wasn't sure if Granger heard it. Aside from the red spots on her face, she was deathly pale. Her lips were even chapped and bleeding. By the looks of it, she had been biting it for a very long time, and quite hardly to. Draco was very much worried now. The hospital wing was vacant as Mdm. Pomfrey was included in the staff meeting, and the professors are nowhere to be found. He suspected they were having some sort of secret meeting somewhere in the castle. Although some of Hogwarts staff came with the students who have gone to Hogsmeade. Fuck. This was a very bad timing. And where in the world was Potter and Co.?

Finally being able to move, Draco made a move towards Hermione. But as he reached her, as if on cue, Hermione's knees gave away and Draco instinctively caught her on his arms.

Ooo

Hermione stirred in her sleep; what nightmare she had in that dream. Molly Weasley sent her a letter saying her dad's been killed and her mum, in a state of paranoia. She breathed heavily, believing it was all just a dream.

Her body froze as she heard someone call out her name. It had been a man's voice; a familiar voice, so to speak.

"Granger, wake up," the voice came again. Hermione groaned inwardly and forced her eyes to open. Her eyes seemed to be puffy and think; as if she just came from crying. Upon opening her eyes, she stared directly at her ceiling. But something seemed quite off about the situation. It was noon. She could not have been over sleeping. That was very much impossible. And there was the man's voice.

Hermione turned her head to her right, and right then, her breath hiked as she realized Draco Malfoy was in her room, sitting by the chair on her bed side. What the fuck was he doing in her room?

Getting panicky all of a sudden, she forced her body to move into a sitting position. She glared back at Malfoy. "What are you doing here? How did you get in here?" She asked through gritted teeth. Although minimum effort was needed to actually verbally bash Malfoy, she suddenly felt exhausted.

Draco scratched his head awkwardly. "You passed out," he said. He moved the chair so now he was facing her. He placed his elbows on his knees and fiddled with his fingers. "I had to carry you inside. Headmistress McGonagall allowed us to enter each other's room in case of emergency. I thought you knew this?"

Hermione quirked her eyebrow. Has her head hit something hard? She seemed to be at lost with what had happened.

"I didn't mean to read this. It fell on the floor when you passed out," Draco said uneasily, handing her a piece of paper.

Hermione stared at the paper. It was covered in blood. It was crumpled too, but was then folded neatly. She reached for it and noticed how Malfoy hesistantly released it once she had it in her hand. She also noticed a bandage wrapped around her palm. "I…I'm sorry," she heard him say. Carefully, she unfolded the piece of paper and read the letter. Her head suddenly felt heavy, as if it were to explode. "I-I thought it was just a dream," she all but said. She felt hot tears running through her cheeks again.

Draco felt uneasy about the situation. He might fancy Granger but he didn't know how to comfort her like this. They weren't exactly on bestfriend terms. Hell, they were barely friends. Just—just classmates. Co-head students; yes that was it. And since when did he admit to himself that he fancied her? Crap. Anyway, she looked as if she needed some kind of pat, or a 'it'll be all right, Granger', but he couldn't give her any of those. The entire situation was just awkward. She had been staring at the letter for a long time now, and it scared him a bit when he heard him mumbling to herself. "Our professors are not in the castle, I think," he heard himself say. Granger just continued mumbling and she stared at the paper as if she had not heard him speak. Draco continued anyways. "Even Mdm. Pomfrey wasn't in the hospital wing. I reckon all of them would be back before six, so I tended you myself. D-do you need someone? Potter? Weasley?"

Granger seemed to snap out from her trance and looked at Draco through her supposedly blurry vision. "No, don't," she said in a whisper. "I need to talk to Headmistress."

"But I told you, I could not find her anywhere in the castle. Earlier, I was supposed to talk to her about something, so I went to her office, and she wasn't there," Draco responded. "Do you need to be…do you want to be alone? I-I should leave," he stuttered. Why was he so nervous all of a sudden. He made a move to get up from the chair, but stopped when he felt a small hand on her arm.

"Don't go…please. Just, stay here. If it's ok. I can't deal with this alone. I might commit suicide," Hermione said weakly. She had been crying again. Normally, she would have sought her friends in times like this. But this situation was different. A part of her blamed Harry for what had happened, and she ought not to see his face just yet. Ron on the other hand, he was too biased, and his opinions were farfetched. It would not comfort her in any way. But Malfoy…His hostility yet civility towards her was just as comforting. She needn't words or actions of comfort. She just needed someone to be with her—that simple. Fortunately, Malfoy was giving her that. "Please stay," she begged lightly.

Draco scratched the side of his head. He laughed without humor. "I'm not so sure I'm what you need right now, Granger," he said almost tartly. Really, he did fancy her but—but this was different! The situation was too intimate for him. To his great chagrin, Hermione started crying again, hard. "Please," she begged. She held his arm with both of her hands. Draco sighed in defeat and nodded twice, reassuring her.

Hermione released her hands on his arm and adjusted her body in yet again a lying position. She looked up at him briefly, and then moved her eyes to her side, patting her hand on the empty space beside her. "Stay here," she whispered weakly.

Draco walked to the other side of the bed without fervor. She was stepping in a dangerous ground, figuratively and literally. He sat on the other side of the bed and looked at Granger, who was looking back at him. She just looked so pathetic, that his heart almost gave out to her. Oh, ha ha. Maybe he was already exaggerating things. She just pitied the girl, is all.

Hesitantly, he removed his shoes and slipped under the thin covers he had laid out for her when he laid her on the bed. He placed his arms under his head, and stared at the ceiling. He couldn't quite look at her, now. He closed his eyes briefly. Seconds later, he felt her body move towards him and finally, Granger rested her head on his chest. He felt warmth in his chest, and couldn't decipher what exactly did that mean, but then as if absentmindedly, he found himself moving his right arm and running his hand on Granger's not so tamed hair. Before giving in to his slumber, he heard Granger say something, and right then, he felt as if he would jump into a cliff and die a happy man.

Ooo

Hermione woke up with a headache. If there was a person who had the ability to get over his/her issues in his/her sleep, that would be her. So big deal, Voldemort killed her dad, and terrorized her mum. He is probably out there scheming on getting her killed as well. Since when did she become the new Harry Potter?

Crying won't do her good, she knew that. She had used up all her energy crying over her loss. She loved her parents, she really did. But she did not see any reason why she should be giving up. If anything, she had felt a huge spark of fervor and contempt against the self proclaimed Dark Lord. She would avenge for her parents, she would. But how would she achieve that? She did not know. Leave it all to Harry to kill the damn snake.

She was still sore from all the crying. But she was done now. Sure, she would have a few more cries in the following days, weeks, hell, probably even months and years, but that wouldn't put her down. Damn it. She was Hermione freaking Granger! Hermione sighed in defeat. Who was she kidding? She was sad. Depressed. Honestly, she might take up on the suicide thing. But she knew better, of course. She was stronger than that. She was Hermione Granger. She felt another lump in her chest as she felt the urge to cry again. Hermione rubbed her eyes rather harshly, preventing the tears to come out again. She realized she was really too tired of crying. Carefully, she opened her eyes and glimpsed at her left. That side was empty. She was alone again. In the darkness, all by herself.

A few hours after indulging into self pitying, she finally managed to get out of bed and have a good bath. Drowning herself in the tub seemed like an appealing idea at the time. But alas, once she felt the tightening of her chest and the pain in her throat as water entered her nostrils and mouth, she emerged from the water and coughed furiously to remove the water that had invaded half of her respiratory tract. Once again, she found herself crying because of the feeble attempt of killing herself through drowning.

After drying herself and changing into another set of clothes, she stood in front of the mirror and examined her face. It was damn puffy and red. With a swish of a wand and a subordinate spell, her once blotchy face returned to its normal and pale one. She had also managed to tend to her palm wounds. She'd have to thank Malfoy for actually partially healing her wounds. She imagined talking to him with awkwardness filling their surroundings. After asking him—more like begging—to sleep with her, she could not find the strength and pride to face him. But that wasn't an issue, really. She was currently grieving the loss of her father, and sleeping with a Malfoy was nothing compared to her loss. With a defiant nod to herself, she left her room and headed to the hall for her dinner.

"Hermione, hey," Ron greeted her as he stood up upon her arrival. Surprisingly, he kissed her head and placed his hand on her waist. His public display of affection was very disturbing. She had not missed the amused glances some students have been giving them. "What happened awhile ago?" He asked as he looked earnestly into her eyes.

Hermione sat on the bench beside Harry, and Ron followed suit. She shook her head and started filling her plate. "Nothing," she said. She just hoped Molly would respect her enough not to tell anyone about what happened, not even Ron or Harry.

"Are you sure?" Ron asked with crossed brows.

Hermione forced a smile and looked up at Ron. "Yeah."

"So are you two going to the dance together?" Harry suddenly asked. Hermione, though unintentionally, felt anger surge through her body and glared at her friend. "It's none of your business," she hissed. Without saying anything else, she stood up, glared at Harry once again, and stuck her nose in the air, and left the Hall.

Ooo

It was Monday. Three days before the Yule Ball, and Hermione wasn't feeling up to it. She didn't want to go. Honestly. She had better things to do than prim her hair, giggle about the good looking boys, bet on who would have the most dances. She had not quite moved on yet, definitely, but she was feeling better. She had somehow managed not to cry in public, instead, she found it easier to cry herself to sleep. And it was only two days after she found out about Voldemort's escapades against the filthy mudblood which was her. Headmistress McGonagall had also sought her out the other day. She had nothing much to say, except she was sorry, and that she would do everything to protect her. Harry had also been called in for a catch-up chat with them. He confessed his scar has been bringing him pain most of the time, and that he had been seeing things. Hermione snorted at this. Has he ever seen her parents being tortured and killed? Or did his 'visions' only involve his welfare? She wouldn't be actually surprised if a Weasley was to be killed by the end of the week.

Harry was not daft not to notice Hermione's sudden hostility towards him. He asked her about it, but she simply shrugged and ignored him. She even had the urge to punch him right on the face when he said he knew and understood that she was currently on her PMS. Fucking git. McGonagall has also asked her if she wanted to attend her father's burial on Friday, the day after the Yule Ball. Hermione only laughed at the question and walked out of her office. But later that night, she found herself crying once again, and wanting to attend his fathers' burial, to see him for the last time.

There was also the added fact that Malfoy had been ignoring her, as if she didn't actually exist in his world, and she felt like punching him in the face too. What was his problem, anyway? Was he so disgusted with her that sleeping beside her had actually caused him some sort of trauma? Honestly!

So that night, right after dinner, she went straight to their quarters and waited for him inside the common room. She sat on the sofa facing the main door and crossed her arms on her chest. Irritably, she waited for him to arrive.

After a few minutes, the door opened and Malfoy stepped in. He had not notice her at first since he was searching for something in his book bag. Hermione stood up and called out his name, effectively catching his attention. Malfoy looked at her curiously, and to her great dismay, Hermione wasn't able to muster a word. Instead, she found herself speechless, blushing, and staring quite diffidently at Malfoy.