Chapter Twenty Eight

Hermione arrived back at Hogwarts the following day, Head Mistress McGonagal was anxious to see her and was waiting at the main entrance as she arrived.

"Hermione," she said in her melodic Scottish accent, "How are you? I'm so glad you're back."

"I'm okay." Hermione lied. McGonagal wasn't fooled though.

"I want you to take as long as you like before you get back to work." She said, "Professor Vector has agreed to cover your classes until you feel up to it."

"Thank you," Hermione said, with a certain amount of relief. Hagrid arrived and hauled her case up to the seventh floor, where her office and apartments were.

Professor McGonagal escorted her up the stairs and Hermione was glad the students were in class, she wasn't ready to face anyone yet. She sat down on her bed after McGonagal had gone. Hermione began to unpack her case, and the first thing she noticed was Draco's book. She held it to her chest and began to sob all over again. Then she curled up like a kitten, still clasping the book and was soon asleep.

Draco haunted her uneasy dreams, she tossed and turned as visions of him ran through her mind, first he appeared as he had at the ball, but then his appearance changed and Hermione dreamt of him locked in the basement of Malfoy Manor. Hungry and afraid, she pictured him bravely accepting his fate in order to save his parents from any more pain. Then he changed once again. She saw him as she remembered him in their first year, but instead of the hatred she had once felt for him, she found her eleven year old self wanting to reach out to him, wondering how different things might have been if Harry had just shaken his hand when he had had the chance. Maybe with their influence Malfoy would have changed his attitude earlier and everything would have been altogether different. He would have been a good ally to have had during Harry's trials, and Snape wouldn't have been alone as a double agent. Her dreams tormented her, she was experiencing a world in which so many people would have been spared an untimely death, and she felt guilt and remorse at the endless possibilities. As time wore on her dream state altered and she found herself back in that room on the third floor of Neville and Luna's home, she dreamt that instead of her being attacked, Malfoy had fallen victim to the evil spirit therein, she saw his handsome face streaked with blood and his sparkling eyes dulled and motionless.

She awoke with that painful image still carved into her distressed mind. Cold sweat ran down her body. She bolted upright as a knock at the door caused her to jump violently.

"Miss Granger," a little voice enquired, "Are you in there?"

Hermione got up and went to answer the door. A group of students stood outside, they held in their hands a big pile of cards and gifts of flowers and chocolates.

"Get well soon miss." a small witch said, smiling. "It's great to see you back, the whole school was really worried about you. Are you okay?"

Hermione was touched by her students' concern, and tried to hide her melancholy from them.

"Thank you all so much, this is so kind, I am fine, I just need a bit of rest and recuperation and I will be back to my best before you know it. I hope you are all working hard for professor Vector, I will be asking her to fetch me some progress reports, so no slacking off okay?" She received the gifts and card with gratitude. "Now off you go,"she said, "I believe Professor Flitwick will be expecting you in charms."

Hermione watched the group of students as they rushed down the corridor. Her eyes glazed over as she remembered the seen as she had once seen it. It was fourth year and everyone had just found out about Harry's name coming out of the Tri-Wizard cup. He and Ron had fallen out and Harry had been frightened and upset. She remembered how Draco, Crabbe and Goyle had shadowed Harry down that same corridor, sporting their "Potter Stinks" badges and taking every opportunity to goad him about being a cheater. As she thought about how angry she had been with them she recalled a look of envy in Draco's eyes that she must have missed or dismissed at the time.

"I was so blind," she thought bitterly. "God, I have got to stop obsessing about this, it's killing me, I need to take my mind of it. I have blown my chance. The sooner I forget about it the better."

Hermione turned and went back into her room. She took the book off her bed and dropped it determinedly into her waste paper basket. "Stop thinking about bloody Malfoy!" She scolded herself. Just then the phone on her desk began to ring. She picked it up, taking a deep breath, trying to ready herself to face the world once more.

"Hermione?" A voice she recognised well asked.