Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

It was odd, checking on Draco before she left for class in the morning and then worrying about him all through Herbology and Ancient Ruins. Potions was just about to start. The last class before she'd be free to return to her dorm.

"So is it true?" Ron said taking his seat in beside her, "Malfoy's ill?"

She nodded. Ron shrugged, as though Malfoy's illness was mere gossip and not important. She wondered if he understood that though Malfoy was a prat, he was a human prat.

"I heard Pomfrey wanted to move him to St. Mungo's." He continued, studying her face to gage her reaction.

If she weren't so shocked by the declaration, she'd marvel at the rumor mill that was Hogwarts. It seemed nothing could stay a secret. The eyes of several of her classmates came to rest on her. Whatever she said next was going to be heard by more than just Ron.

She shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "I heard something like that, but I think they decided he was too sick to be moved anywhere."

"What's he sick with Hermione?" Harry said sitting beside Ron.

"Something like pneumonia." She bit her tongue, incredibly uncomfortable to be airing out news about Draco's health to others.

"Merlin." Harry exclaimed, his green eyes widening, "He's that sick?"

She nodded.

"How do you get pneumonia at the age of 17?" he exclaimed.

She sighed, rubbing her temple. "I don't know, but he sounds bloody awful. Even with his door closed, I can still hear him coughing from down the hall."

It had scared her beyond belief. She'd ended up waking every hour just to check and make sure he was still breathing when the coughing stopped.

Harry nodded leaning forward. "Have you had a chance to look at that thing I told you about?" He whispered.

She shook her head, though she was grateful for the subject change. "I have the books, but with people coming in and out of my dorm because of Malfoy, I haven't had the chance to look into it properly."

He seemed slightly put off by her answer, but quickly the emotion vanished. His eyes looked up above her. She turned and saw Blaise take his seat on her other side. Snape had assigned partners at the beginning of the term, in the spirit of inter-house unity a Slytherin had been paired with a Gryffindor. She was lucky to have gotten Blaise. At least he was painfully polite. Besides, after their slight bonding over Draco, well, she understood him slightly better than before.

"Granger." Blaise greeted her and nodded in Ron and Harry's direction.

Professor Slughorn came in and immediately launched into an introduction on the potion they'd be expected to brew this week.

"How is he?" Blaise asked without so much as opening his mouth.

"He only asked for more blankets this morning, but since then nothing." She paused, "I think he's asleep."

Blaise nodded and pretended to turn to listen to Slughorn talk about Amortentia and its antidote.

"May I come back with you to your dorm, to check on Draco?"

She bit her lip at the unexpected request. Unsure what to make of the request. She immediately felt slightly guilty and silly for thinking Blaise's intentions were anything but what they actually were. Draco had friends, of course they'd want to check on him. She nodded slightly after a moment, forcing herself to glance at the ingredients in front of him.

A flash of amusement flitted across his face, before his mask was back in place.

After a beat, she spoke.

"You were going to come whether I said yes or not."

It was a moment before he answered.

"Yes." And she could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

The class ended, with one cauldron brewing the potion and the other the antidote. Dinner in the Great Hall and after some quick excuses, she and Blaise slipped away to her dorm.

There were potion vials lined up on the kitchen counter when they entered. She glanced over the scribbled note beside them with instructions and various things to check for.

"He's still asleep." Blaise said leaning on the frame of the doorway. She nodded. "I think we should let him sleep for another hour. After that I'm going to wake him and see if he'll eat something."

Blaise had cocked his head at the word 'we', but she paid it no mind. Instead she answered the question he hadn't asked.

"Of course you can stay Blaise."

They each took a seat on a couch in the Common Room. Blaise pulled out his Charms book. The same one that Draco had. She bit back her jealousy at Blaise being another person in those 'special' classes. She pulled her own Charms book and began to read.

As she read, she felt Blaise's gaze drift to her every few moments. She ignored his scrutiny and attempted to continue reading and writing out her notes. After 30 minutes, her patience wore thin.

"Just ask already." She snapped.

Blaise looked at her bored, a look almost identical to the one Draco usually did. She met his gaze with equal intensity. When he looked away, she practically grinned.

"Why are you helping him?"

Ah.

She supposed it would seem odd, but to her it wasn't. She'd always had that about her. Wanting to help people. Her insufferable bleeding heart, Ron would always say.

"He's just a person who needed help. I wasn't going to sit by and let someone suffer like that, no matter who it was." She folded her arms, as if to protect herself from further scrutiny. Blaise remained unfazed despite the action.

"And you'd do that for anyone. Murderers, criminals?" he drawled.

She was quiet.

"Who am I to decide what anyone does or doesn't deserve?" She finally said.

"You don't want anything from him? Favors, information,"

"No." She snapped, aghast that he'd accuse her of wanting to help Draco for something in return.

He is a Slytherin. That's probably how they do things in their house.

"I just wanted to be sure." He said, taking his book back into his hand.

"That I wasn't taking advantage of him?" She felt mildly insulted. Honestly, what did Blaise take her for?

"Yes." He said, meeting her gaze, "It's happened before, and Draco may pretend it doesn't bother him, but I know it does."

She straightened and moved to the edge of her seat. Blaise, realizing she wanted him to elaborate, sighed and placed the book on the center coffee table.

"Is it so hard to believe? That people wouldn't want to take advantage, get close to him because of who he is and what that means. People flock to the name Malfoy. Mothers push their daughters in his direction hoping he'll take just a second glance in their direction."

She didn't know why, but she grimaced at that.

"He's judged for every and anything he does or doesn't do."

She wanted to protest that it can't all be true. This was Draco Malfoy, who flaunted his name and his family at any chance he got. Who lived for attention.

Or was that who he was?

Or was it who he thought he had to be?

It all made her head spin. The only thing she knew for sure was that Draco was extremely talented at hiding things he didn't want seen.

She stood hoping her body didn't match the trembling in her chest.

"I'm going to go check on him."

She must have looked mad, dashing from the Common Room to Draco's. She opened the door and took care not to step on any creaking floorboards.

He had kicked off most of the blankets, except for a thin light green one that was only half draped over his tall frame. Her eyes took in his creamy skin, lingering at his forearms.

There was nothing there, she'd already checked.

She felt guilty at her thoughts, and moved to carefully position the blanket properly. Her hand grazed his forehead. He was burning up. He mumbled at the contact and turned to his side, burying his head into the pillow. She smiled at the unguarded action.

He grimaced and the mumbling seemed to become slightly coherent.

"Winter greets us with smoke."

She froze. His tone had been monotone and so eerily familiar. He said it again, and his face grew agitated.

The same withdrawn voice.

She realized then why it sounded familiar.

It sounded like Madame Trelawney, or what she wished she sounded like.

Draco began thrashing about, twisting and tangling his limbs between his sheets. "Draco." She called, reaching for his shoulder to shake him. He turned and his voice grew louder.

"No. No. No. Get out." he called over and over.

"Draco." She was shouting now, trying to pull him out of whatever terror had gripped him.

"Please." he said. He fought against her, and she quickly moved away from his thrashing limbs.

"BLAISE!" She yelled.

"Get out. Get OUT!" He heaved, turning onto his stomach.

Dark arms pushed passed her and gripped Draco by the shoulders. He turned him back over and held him down.

"Draco, snap out of it. You aren't there." Blaise said loudly, but not quite yelling. Draco moaned, as though he were in pain.

"Get out." Draco said again, softer. Blaise kept his grip firm. "Come on mate. Come back."

Draco stilled and his eyes flew open. "In smoke." He choked, before huddling over and coughing so hard his shoulders trembled. Blaise's hands dropped from his shoulder, but he stayed, one leg hoisted up on the bed, half straddling Draco.

Draco panted, slowly breathing before he moaned again and rubbed his temples.

Blaise moved off the bed as Draco sat up with head in his hands.

"Oh my god."

They both turned to her, seeming to remember she was in fact in the room.

"Oh my god." she repeated, her extensive vocabulary had abandoned her.

"Hermione." Draco said softly, "Please leave." He slumped forward, seemingly exhausted. Her eyes met Blaise's who dipped his head in a small nod.

She turned on her heel and left. Left the room. Left the dorm. Left the tower. Her legs kept moving until she found herself standing at the edge looking out at Hogwarts' spiraling forests. She looked around the Astronomy tower and then turned back to look at the forests.

Draco was…

"Hermione?"

She stiffened at the wispy voice.

"Luna?"

"I thought it was you." The blonde said coming out of the corner, completely calm. As though they both weren't sitting in a restricted part of the castle at an obscenely late hour.

"You look flushed Hermione. I hope you're not getting sick too."

Her wits seemed to return to her at that moment, and she took a breath before replying.

"No. It's just Malfoy who's sick." she said, wincing as his surname passed from her lips.

"I heard. You should make him tea, with cinnamon and ginger." Her blue eyes caught the light, giving her an eerie appearance.

"I'll keep that in mind." she said, "What are you doing here Luna?"

"I could ask you the same question Hermione, but I think we both know that neither one of us is planning on telling the truth."

It's then that she's reminded that for all the dazed ramblings, Luna is in fact in Ravenclaw for a reason.

"No, I suppose not." Hermione finally answered and they both look up to the sky. Luna doesn't ask, but Hermione began to tell her anyway. It'd been eating at her, knawing her inside out, all these secrets and revelations she'd had when it came to Draco Malfoy.

Everything comes out. Everything but her most recent revelation. She couldn't bear to let that out. Not that she didn't trust Luna, but that particular secret was all Draco's.

Luna took it all. Didn't comment and kept her expression guarded. When she'd finally talked herself out, Luna spoke.

"It's ok to care about him Hermione."

She stammered.

"To like that he's different now."

"It's still him."

"I suppose it is." Luna said with a smile, "But then who else would he be?"

Hermione frowned. That observation was not helpful at all.

"He's a person. Same as you or me." Luna said simply turning to walk away.

"But he isn't." she blurted out.

Luna gave her an odd look.

"But maybe he's trying to be."

Her walk back to the dormitory was slow, and even when she reached the statue marking the entrance she waited, counting to 110 before Blaise came down the steps.

"You can go up." He said nonchalantly as he sidestepped her and continued down toward the dungeons.

She frowned, anger beginning to fester under her skin. It was her own bloody dorm too. She could come and go as she pleased. She marched up the steps, but when the staircase ended and the Common Room came into view, she stopped.

He's just a person. Same as you or me.

She took in a sharp breath and walked toward his room. She knocked lightly. When he called out for her to come in, she pushed the door open. He was sitting at the edge of the bed. He turned to look at her as she walked in.

"I'm..."

"You're a seer."

He let out a huff. "Something like that."

"How did this happen? How long?" Question after came out, and he waited patiently as she rattled them on and on.

"There's seer blood in both sides of my family. I just got enough of it to manifest some sort of ability." He paused running a hand through his hair. "And I suppose I've always had it. Random bouts of Deja vu all through my life, but ever since last year." He bit the inside of his cheek. "It's gotten stronger."

"And prophecies?"

He shook his head. "It's not like that. I don't sprout out ominous verse."

Except in your sleep.

"I see things." She met his gaze again. "I've tried to block them out, took fucking Occlumency lessons with Snape for months, but they still come when I sleep."

"And when you're awake?"

"Rarely. I can hold them off."

Her eyes widened. "So when you fell off the broom…"

"I got one. It was short though, seeing how I came out of it with enough time to stop myself from plummeting to my death."

"And you saw Tonks being attacked." she mumbled to herself.

"Not just her." he said softly.

She blinked and took him in. His cheeks were slightly flushed, probably from the fever, but the rest of him was pale. Every so often, he'd shiver. He was sick, and she'd just worked him up by talking about something he hadn't willingly wanted to tell her. He needed rest, and probably to eat.

There was a risk that if she didn't get answers now, she may never get them at all. But he looked like hell, and her heart went out to him. She'd get answers later, when he didn't look like he was about to die in her dorm.

"Have you eaten anything?"

He blinked. "What?"

"You look awful."

His brow rose.

"And I don't think it's right for me to interrogate you over all of this now. I'll get my answers when you're well, and you're not going to get well unless you eat, drink potions, and sleep." She put her hands on her hips, and he cracked a smile.

"No I haven't eaten."

She clapped her hands together. "Then soup." She turned to the kitchen and was surprised to hear his footsteps following her. He settled on one of the couches in the Common Room and wrapped a blanket around himself.

She'd found a can of soup and as it was cooking, she caught site of the tea kennel. With a flick of her wand, she'd filled it and had it over the stove. At the last second she added ginger and cinnamon. By all accounts, it wasn't a bad idea.

She heard him cough again from the room, and she shivered instinctively.

When she came in, she found him with their Defense Against the Dark Arts text in his hand, still shivering beneath the blanket.

She murmured a spell and increased the temperature in the room before settling on the other end of the couch.

"Granger." He said, eyeing the tray, "You really don't have to…"

"No, I really don't." She agreed, "But I told you already. I want too."

He nodded before taking the bowl of soup into his hands. She watched him sip the broth. His movements were like honey. Even the way he held a spoon screamed a certain sense of sophistication. All remnants of an aristocratic upbringing.

"Why don't you say it anymore?" She blurted. Maybe just one question, the most important one in her opinion, would be ok to ask now.

He paused. "Say what, Granger?"

She chewed her lip.

"Mudblood."

He put his spoon down.

"Because I don't believe it anymore."

She frowned, and bit the inside of her cheek. "Why?"

"Always questions Granger." He murmured before taking his spoon back in his hand. When she continued to stare at him, he put it back down. He took a kleenex from the box on the table and wiped his mouth.

"I went into Muggle London."

Had the world ended? Draco Malfoy pureblood Prince of Slytherin had willingly gone into the muggle world. She couldn't even comprehend the fact.

He laughed, though it quickly turned into a light cough.

"Oh gods, Granger." He said between gasps. She fumed, crossing her arms. When he regained some composure, she finally spoke.

"Why'd you go into Muggle London?"

He shrugged. "By accident really. During the summer before 5th year." His lips drew into a thin line as he chose his next words.

"I wanted to get out of the Manor. Things were tense, so I went to Diagon Alley and wandered around, and then somehow I crossed over."

He let out a huff of air.

"Probably not what you were expecting. Thought I went out to terrorize muggles and whatever." A tight smile spread on his face.

"No. I…" She stammered, "I'm just surprised. Once you realized you crossed, why didn't you immediately go back?"

"Morbid curiosity I suppose." He shrugged, "I wandered to a park and just sat on a bench and watched them. The muggles. They weren't doing much of anything. There was no magic, but they weren't barbaric or savage or filthy…" he trailed off.

"Just people." She murmured.

He nodded.

"It started to rain, and a muggle woman offered to share her umbrella with me." His eyes grew unfocused, "Completely unnecessary, but she did." He looked slightly bothered by the recollection.

"You didn't refuse?"

"It was that or get soaked. I think my choice was obvious."

She laughed, and was pleased when Draco cracked another smile.

She caught his eyes.

"But you went back."

He nodded. "Over and over." he murmured, "I saw her quite a bit, and she took to talking to me. Told me all about her children and grandchildren." He paused. "She was kind. Nicer to me than my own grandmother, and she didn't even know who I was."

She waited.

"It made me think about it. Muggleborns to purebloods."

"And?"

"They're not what I thought them to be, but purebloods are still superior."

She frowned.

He smirked. "Not like that. It's just. We have resources in our families, knowledge from generations and generations of other wizards to draw from. We know this world inside and out, and Muggleborns only get a glimpse through Hogwarts before they're thrown out into the rest of it, only to realize they don't know much at all."

She shuddered. He'd surprised her with his well-thought out response. In so many ways, he was right. She pushed the thought away.

"I suppose wealth is a good perk. Spells." he continued.

"Gifts." She said.

He frowned, his grey eyes darkening.

"What I have isn't a gift Granger." he bit his lip, "But what you have is."

She blinked.

"It's a gift to have your magic." he ran a hand through his hair, "There's a muggle physics theory that wizards have taken an interest in for decades. Parallel universes. In this world, there's a one in a million, billion, infinite chances that a muggle child is born with magic. It's probably the same in others, and if you think about the likelihood, in most of those universes you're probably a muggle with no idea that magic exists."

He took a breath.

"But in this one you have it, and that's a gift. Given as easily as it could have been taken away. And you know that. It's probably why you work so hard, read so much, because you want to take advantage of it." he met her gaze. She looked away quickly.

Her heart drummed, and she became acutely aware that there was only a good foot and a half between them.

"You really are cleverer than I thought you were."

He laughed, dispelling the tension that had settled between them.

"Well, I am second in the class."

"In danger of becoming first more like." She said with a grin. He shook his head.

"No really, that shield you did in DADA was amazing. I've been working on it non-stop and I can only hold it for 5 minutes."

"It wasn't fair of Snape to ask me to do it." He said with a smirk, "I already knew the spell."

She raised a brow.

"Summer." he replied before taking a sip of his tea.

"It must have really been quite a summer."

"I suppose so." He said blankly.

She sighed. He obviously wasn't going to share much more on the subject. She held her hand out and summoned one of the vials from the kitchen to her. She scooted closer to him, and tentatively reached out to brush her fingertips on his forehead. He stiffened under the touch.

He was still warm, not as burning as before, but still dangerously hot.

"The fever hasn't broken yet." She murmured before handing him the vial. He took it gently, fingers brushing passed one another.

"Thank you." he muttered. He was quick to drink it. "You should rest." She said, unsure when they'd taken to talking in whispers.

He nodded.

"Night."

His eyes were glowing like silver, and she quickly looked away. When his door shut, she waited a moment before rushing to her room. Then she waited until his coughs turned to light breathing, before she went to her trunk and took out the worn volume. Secrets of the Darkest Arts. She took a deep breath before turning to the chapter she'd only glanced through before.

The Horcrux.