A/N: Sorry this took so long, but I was on vacation (no internet). Thank you so much, people who reviewed my last chapter! You're amazing! This is yet another depressing chapter, but trust me, it's important.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all the characters belong to JKR, not me (sadly). I just manipulate them.

It was almost a week later, and Draco had stopped talking. He never spoke, not in class or out, not to anyone. He didn't come by the empty classroom to see Hermione, and she was getting worried. She could feel the disaster coming, but she didn't know when, or what to do about it.

She was walking out of Transfiguration when she saw Draco walking away from her, and away from the normal route to his next class.

"Draco!" she called. "Where are you going?" Of course, he didn't answer, not since his vow of silence. She didn't bother trying to make him talk; her shout had been a reflex reaction. Instead, she followed hem. He was so freaking fast, though and Hermione's bag weighed her down. Impatiently, she dropped it behind a suit of armor to grab later and raced on. She followed Draco up so many flights of stairs and winding passages that she felt dizzy. Finally, they hit a dead end. Draco slid through a door at the top of the last set of stairs. Hermione felt disoriented. Where were they? She took stock of her surroundings. Something smelled strange. Oh, of course, she thought. That was the door to the owlry. Feeling better now that she wasn't lost, she went through the door after him. When he saw her, he jumped. Not just a little jump. He jumped out of the tower into the air, a thousand feet above the ground. Hermione went numb.

"Draco!" she screamed. She dashed to the window. She saw where he had fallen, so far below. She couldn't believe it. She couldn't feel anything. Because he hadn't fallen. He hadn't been surprised. He had jumped. On purpose. She fainted.

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Hermione woke up in the hospital wing. She wasn't bleary or dizzy. Everything was painfully clear. Ron, Harry, Cho, and Ginny were crowded around one side of her bed. On the other side was Madam Pomfrey. She looked relieved to see that Hermione was awake. Hermione didn't wait to hear what the nurse had to say relating to what she had to do to return to full health. She sat bolt upright, feeling panicky.

"Oh my God," Ron and Hermione said at the same time. He was relieved. She was frantic. "Is he okay? Is he-" she couldn't say 'dead'. Not Draco. Cho pointed to the bed across from Hermione's, knowing what she was asking about. It was surrounded by Slytherins. Hermione wondered how she could have missed the commotion. "Is he going to be okay?"

Madam Pomfrey grimaced. "It doesn't look good, but-"

Hermione shoved her way through the assembled Slytherins until she reached Draco. He was unconscious. Hes arm was bandaged and he had a long, thin cut stretching along his jawline. His whole face was bruised and scratched. He had obviously broken more than one bone.

"What's the mudblood doing here?" asked Pansy Parkinson's shrill voice.

Hermione glared at the girl. "I'm standing here staring at and unconscious boy and wondering what the hell I did to deserve this," she snapped as if explaining something to a bratty two year old. She turned to the bed. "Draco, you are such an idiot," she muttered under her breath.

She stayed there for two days. She didn't leave to eat or go to class and she slept for only a few hours in a chair she had dragged over to Draco's bed. There was a constant stream of Slytherins coming in to check on him. Most of them passed snide remarks to Hermione, who glared until they left. Ron brought her food after he had tried, and failed, to get her to leave.

Madam Pomfrey worked on Draco day and nigh, but he was still unconscious, and she was worried. She wasn't half as scared as Hermione, thought, who jumped at every movement, silently begging Draco to move.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of waiting, his eyelids fluttered.

"Hermione?" he whispered. She hit hem. She had been so scared, she felt like he deserved some punishment.

"Miss Granger!" cried Madam Pomfrey. "You might damage his health!"

"What was that for?" Draco asked. His voice was raw, his eyes pained.

"You will never," she hissed, "never put me through that again. Never. Because if you do, I will… I'll… God." She put her head in her hands, trying not to cry.

"You would have gotten over it," he muttered.

She glared at him. "No, I wouldn't have. And don't you dare forget that again."

Madam Pomfrey cut in. "Don't get him upset. He needs to recover, and if you can't manage letting him do that, you will not be allowed back in here. Drink this." She thrust a goblet at Draco.

He wrinkled his nose. "I'll be fine without it." He really didn't sound good. His voice was cracked and harsh.

"Now," Madam Pomfrey insisted.

Draco took it, but didn't drink. "I feel fine, honestly."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Just drink the damn potion, would you Draco? I did not sit here for two days just to watch you die."

"I'm not going to die," he protested. His heart wasn't really in it.

"And you had better not want to. How could you do that to me, Draco?" she whispered, close to tears again.

Just then, Ginny and Cho marched into the hospital wing. The hooked their arms into Hermione's and pulled her up.

"Come on," said Ginny.

"Wha- No!" Hermione cried. "I have to… I…"

"No, you don't," Cho told her firmly. "He's awake. He'll live. But you won't, not if you don't get some real food and about twelve hours of sleep."

Hermione was still protesting as they dragged her out of the hospital wing and up the stairs toward Gryffindor tower, faltering only when she saw Draco gulp the potion down, grimacing.

A/N: Please review! Again! I'll post the next chapter as soon as I have time, which might not be for a while. I'm working on a one shot and a story that's not for fanfic, so please be patient.