A/N: So, I kept my promise, and I actually updated within a week. That's pretty damn amazing for me. I hope you enjoy!

Harry lowered his wand. "What do you mean?"

Iona stumbled over her words as she tried to muster an acceptable response, "I mean, she's been found in the lake. She was drowning and… I'm not going to lie to you, guys. It looks bad."

"Can we see her?" Harry asked the questions as Ginny sat in the leather library chair, her eyes focused on her feet. He refused to look at her and evoke a rush of emotion that would most likely summon tears.

Iona sat down next to Ginny and placed a hand on her back. "I'm afraid not. Madame Pomfrey's being particularly austere about it all. I only know about this because I saw her being brought in to the wing."

"She's okay, though. Right?" Harry wiped his glasses on the hem of his shirt, seeming reasonably together.

"Harry, I'm sorry. I really don't know. She was unconscious when I saw her, Pomfrey had to clear the wing and I heard someone say they were taking her to Mungo's."

Harry immediately pushed away from the shelf and grasped at his girlfriend's hand, "Ginny, we should go—"

Iona fought to catch up with them as they stalked out of the library, "I swear, they're not letting anyone in!"

"You said she was brought in by someone? How did they find her?" Ginny interjected, her voice a mere whisper.

"No-one knows. I couldn't see who exactly, but it was definitely a guy."

"Maybe it was Ron, Gin. It's not like it would be the first time he's saved one of us from drowning." After a moment's thought, Harry continued. "Oh, Merlin. What was she even doing there? Why was she out alone?"

"Granger. Can you at least look at me?"

Draco was perched on the bed next to Hermione's, her face was sombre and sad and all things sober. She wouldn't even look at him, no matter how much he talked. Looking over at the opposite line of beds, her eyes were distant and un-focused and her complexion, historically rosy, exhibited a pallor that could only be described as bloodless. Despite all that she had been through, there was no doubt this display likened to anaemia was a consequence of her dwindling mental health. She hadn't said one word since she'd woken up.

Draco had already been discharged after getting the all-clear for hypothermia; he'd been up to the Common Room and, despite having time, he hadn't bothered to tell Potter or the Weasleys - he knew they'd find out themselves soon enough.

"Me bringing you to the hospital wing - getting a bit old, don't you think?" He glanced at her, in the hope that she would respond. Shifting so she was now lying down, Hermione pulled up the duvet over her shoulders, yet there was no sign she had heard Malfoy. "I know you're in there, Granger. You can't shut me out." Pacing now, he muttered, "I won't let you."

Madame Pomfrey appeared next to Draco, ushering him behind her. "Miss Granger, I need you to take this Calming Draught, just one goblet full. That's it. Now, I'll be round again in a few hours."

Draco intercepted, "What else have you given her? Why isn't she speaking?"

Pomfrey rolled her eyes and made her way into the main corridor of the wing with Draco following her suit, "Mister Malfoy, I let you go three hours ago! I really don't like all this congestion in my ward, so if you'd just—"

"I'm not leaving. Why won't she answer any of my questions?"

"Miss Granger has suffered a substantial trauma - emotionally and physically. It is quite natural for her to look vacant until she feels ready to express herself." It was clear this was the end of the conversation. Draco staggered back into Hermione's curtained off area and hastily tugged at the curtain in frustration, until the space was fully concealed from the outside.

"Granger, listen to me." He paused, as if he thought she would give him her attention. Her eyes were open, he would have to settle for that and hope her ears were too. "I don't know why you did this, or maybe I do. Maybe you told me in some cryptic way before and that was why I felt the need to go to the lake. I don't believe in any of that destiny shit, anyway. Maybe I should. But I found you. I found you, unconscious, drowning. Fucking drowning, Granger!" He fought to keep from raising his voice. "I found you and all I know is that… when I saw your shoes and I realised you were in that lake, Merlin. I…" She was looking at him now. Her gaze was focused explicitly on him. He opened his mouth. Draco felt his heart throbbing, so hard he perceived it to be against his ribcage.

Just as, the doors to the hospital wing crashed open. "Hermione! Herm— Oh, Madame Pomfrey, is she okay? Can we see her? Please—"

Draco turned back to look at Hermione briefly, in the last moment he knew he would be able to speak to her alone; he snapped back to his usual self. "Your friends have arrived. I'll send Kreacher with your robe and shoes." He stalked into view of the trio, bracing himself for the expletives he was sure the youngest Weasley was preparing to fire at him.

"What the fuck is he doing here?" Harry held Ginny's arm back, but struggled with his willpower that was crying to punch Malfoy himself. "Seriously, Malfoy, get out before I— Get off me, Harry!" She clenched her fists, her knuckles growing white under the strain of her fury. "What are you doing here?"

"If you must know, Weasley, I was the one who pulled her out of the lake. So, I think I'm entitled to a little alone time, at least for now." He winked at her, a cruel smirk on his face as she glared in response. Raking his hand through his hair, Draco sauntered past and nodded an acknowledgement towards Harry. "Potter."

Ginny settled on the end of Hermione's bed, leaving Harry to drag two chairs over. "You look pale, 'Mione." She waited for a response, not dissimilar to Malfoy's limited patience, and sighed. "Look, before you say anything, I just want you to know that we're here for you, no matter what. Merlin knows what I was thinking when we had conversations and I didn't notice. I've been thinking everything over and I don't know how I missed all these signs that screamed you weren't happy. Shit, you practically said goodbye to me and was too caught up that I dismissed it. I just— I thought you were handling it okay." Ginny clasped Hermione's hand in hers, it was cool. "You could have told us."

Harry arrived with the chairs, a grin on his face after having accomplished such a major coup. He glanced at Ginny, "Pomfrey mentioned you're not up to chat. I mean, of course you're not, you just fell in the Black Lake. Bloody freezing, I would know!" He smiled, patting the free hand that was not held in Ginny's and squeezing it.

It dawned on Ginny that Harry hadn't realised the gravity of the situation; and that Hermione had certainly not fallen into the lake. She gulped, preparing to inform him. "Harry, Hermione didn't fall into the lake." She felt that was enough, she trusted he would understand.

"Oh? What— You mean… Oh." His voice hushed until it was just a low murmur, his eyes glazed over. "I don't understand. Why— Why would she do that?" He was looking solely at Ginny now, and he may have forgotten Hermione was there.

The Weasley moved to sit next to him. "Harry, she was under a lot of strain. Maybe it was too overwhelming. All I know is that we need to stay strong for her… be there. This is going to be tough."

"But she actually… she actually—"

"Tried to kill myself?" The two hastily twisted round at the sound of Hermione's voice. "Yes. That's what I did, Harry. I attempted suicide. I wanted to end my own life. Do you understand? I dived into that lake and I tried to drown myself so I didn't have to live any fucking longer." She paused, "I still have ears. I can hear. Reserve the talking about me for when I'm not in the same room, please." Hermione rolled over in the bed so that she could not see the two.

"Hermione, this isn't something we can avoid talking about!"

There was a long silence, before the girl in the bed spoke up with a groan, "Precisely." Ginny began to respond but Hermione butted in, "you two can't even say it. You can't even utter the words."

"Okay. Okay, Hermione. You tried to commit suicide in the lake." Harry grimaced as Ginny humoured her; a pure look of disdain. "But somehow, Malfoy was there and he saved you. He saved your life and we're going to make that life worthwhile so that the one good thing he has done in his life has not gone to bloody waste!"

Hermione buried herself in the bedding. After she had woken up she had assumed she was void of all emotion but her eyes deceived her; and she began to sob.

The laughter of the school's general atmosphere began to exist immediately as Draco descended the winding stairs from the Heads dormitory and towards the main hall. Darkness was creeping up on him, and as the winter months continued he felt increasingly lonely in his Common Room, opting during the evening to do any work in the hall right until close.

As he sauntered through the entrance and over to his familiar spot on the Slytherin's trestle, he turned a blind eye to Potter and Weasley who were seated on the table next to his and instead, referred his attention towards the blank parchment that he had specifically come down to tackle.

Typically, he was interrupted. Or rather, he couldn't concentrate with their nattering in close proximity to his ears.

"I know it's a long shot, Ron, but we're not idiots when it comes to Potions. We might do some good. Get her hopes up - something to be positive about!" Harry was talking animatedly, gesturing towards a pile of books next to Ron, who looked dubious. Draco peered over his work at the boys, suddenly inquisitive.

"That's exactly what we shouldn't be doing, Harry! If she gets her hopes up and we don't get anywhere, she'll be crushed." Ron paused, eyeing the heaped yellowbacks and exhaling boorishly. A few pupils turned at the disturbance. "Having said that, we could still have a bloody good go at it. What's there to lose if we don't tell her?"

Harry grinned, slapping Ron on the back. "Knew you'd come around, mate." Draco, bemused, shuffled further in their direction. "I found these notes in her bag about various antidotes - from the wizarding world but also muggle inventions. It'd make sense to start from there."

There was no doubt they were talking about Granger, but why? Malfoy had a hunch. His suspicion was confirmed when he hastily reached over and glanced at the book titles. He was well aware that the Gryffindor's weren't striving to be Healers, so he decided Moste Potente Potions and The Healer's Helpmate had nothing to do with their future career aspirations.

He watched them for a while, Ron scribbling drafts as Harry thought out loud.

Draco bit his lip, cleared the tabletop and made the decision.

When Hermione woke up, a dear face was seated opposite her. She rubbed at her eyes, distinctly concerned as the Headmistress smiled sadly at her.

"I don't know whether you know this, Miss Granger, but I'm a widower. My husband Elphinstone, he was fatally bitten by a Venomous Tentacula. We'd only been married three years. It was a terribly short-lived romance. I suppose I'm used to it now, death. It feels familiar, too familiar. But before Elphinstone, I knew nothing of it. I was oblivious to its effects and awaited it with oddly unorthodox anticipation. He died, and I felt almost cataclysmic devastation. Death creeps up on you, then grapples at your heart in the time of least expectance, and when it does, you wonder why you didn't spend those three years more wisely."

Hermione stared at her. McGonagall lifted herself off the seat, "Never overestimate death's patience, Miss Granger."

Before she left, she turned, "I've organised a counselling session for next week. I trust you'll oblige."

As Draco approached the Gryffindor Common Room, he consistently disagreed, in his mind, with what he was about to do. His heart and his mind were at odds about this. Nevertheless, he confronted the Fat Lady with a groan - he had partially forgotten her existence as the bearer of admittance. Before she could say - or scream - a word, he held up a finger. "Look, I'm Head Boy. I don't even want to go in, I just want to see Potter. Can you at least let me call for him at the doorway?" She began to shake her head, but was distracted by a group of Gryffindors now ascending the steps towards the two of them. He smirked and smugly turned to her, knowing that she was obligated to let them in.

"Cleeveley! I need to see Potter and Weasley, be a lad and get them to come to the door."

Soon after, they arrived at the threshold, looking abashed. He wondered if he'd woken them up: an added bonus. "What do you want?"

"I want in." Ron, confused, turned to Harry - who knew immediately what the Slytherin was referring to. "Don't deny her the brightest guy of our age." His smirk failed quickly. "I know that you're trying to cure it, or whatever.

And I want in."

Ron gulped. "I don't think that's such-"

Harry interrupted. "Tuesday lunch, in the old Potions lab. This is your only chance."

A/N: Okay, I really enjoyed writing this (dialogue is much more preferable to description - as you've probably gathered) and I hope you guys enjoyed reading it! If I evoked even the tiniest of emotion in any of you whilst reading this, please let me know. It could be frustration towards my grammar, anger about Draco, etc. Let me know in the reviews. Seriously. They make me so grin so much!

Thank you for staying with me.

Eve x