Hello! I am genuinely surprised that people actually read my first chapter. Was not expecting that. However, since you lovely people did, I just wanted to pop in here and say a few things regarding the story for clarification purposes.

Aside from the very beginning of the first chapter, the story so far has taken place near the end of Hermione's first year at Hogwarts. This chapter in particular takes place just a few weeks after the events of chapter 1. Moving forward, the time-line should have less gaps as the action picks up. Although, I do reserve the right to time-skip as needed. ;)

As for pairings, even I'm not sure how the romance will play out. I have ideas, that's for damn sure. But I'm writing this story for fun and it's been a very fluid process overall. What I can say, and to address one of you lovely commenters, is that a Hermione/Voldemort pairing is not in the cards for this tale. Their relationship is already set in stone and does not fit being romantically involved.

Thank you all again for reading! I bow modestly for your continued support.

Yours truly,

-S.K.

Once upon a time, there was a Kingdom of Light and a Kingdom of Shadow. The Kingdom of Light was strong and prosperous, while the Kingdom of Shadow was withered and weak. Though the King and Queen of all the lands preached of peace and happiness for all, the balance between the two kingdoms had long since been broken. So much so that soon the Kingdom of Shadow was forgotten.

Yet, that was to the benefit of the noble Lady of the Kingdom of Shadow. None remembered her name, her face, her power, nor her vengeance. But as she reappeared and cursed the King and Queen's precious lands with blight and sorrow, no one would ever forget what she was. A dark witch, one like none before.

The curse lasted for years, and when hope was beginning to dwindle, 4 noble houses birthed the heroes that would save them all. These were houses of crimson, of marigold, cerulean, and emerald. When the heroes were nearing mature age, a hunt for the witch began. Scouts had found her castle in a clouded land of mist and storms. The four heroes together raided her fortress, and to their surprise, found it unguarded. They rushed to the throne room and again found a surprise awaiting them. Not the dark witch, but a child not far younger than they. From this child echoed an aura of madness, anger, and fear. She was the heir to her mother's cursed throne. A threat to all living, magical or not.

The heroes returned and told tale of the death of the dark witch, slain by the noble four. And who was to doubt them? For as they returned to the Kingdom of Light — intent on declaring the truth — they saw no longer a land stricken with blight. And so was declared a pact, not amongst four, but five. To never speak the truth again, and let the shadows lie in peace.

Hermione sat across from Harry as the Gryffindor snacked happily on eggs and sausage. The frizzy-haired girl instead looked down at her own less-filled platter and pushed about some of the egg scramble and potatoes she had habitually tossed onto her plate. Not only sleep, but now hunger had begun to leave her as her appetite had grown smaller over the past few weeks. Hermione, ever the quick-witted girl, attributed her condition to stress. Being Draco Malfoy's underling was not an easy pill to swallow, and the tasks she had been sent on were — for the most part — mind-numbingly pointless. Currently, for example, was to spy on "the Potter twit" while Malfoy and his crew headed home for Easter holidays. Most of the school, as evidenced by the eerily desolate dining hall, had gone home for the holidays — the final break before exams — and instead of spending this wonderfully lonesome time studying freely like she rarely got to do otherwise, here she was spying on Harry. To her dismay, despite her being a now known associate of Malfoy's, Harry didn't seem to mind her company. If anything, he welcomed her.

"Hermione. Did you know that Hagrid won a dragon egg in a poker game?" Harry blurted. Hermione didn't know that. She hadn't the time recently to visit the jolly giant. Between classes, Malfoy, and the supplemental tutoring she had agreed to with professor Quirrell the day after their candid conversation, free time had grown scarce.

"Shush! Harry, don't say that out loud. Especially if it's true," she whispered back to him, not intending to insinuate he was lying, though Harry took it that way

"Well, it is tr—!" Harry retorted, before receiving a stinging swat to the nose. "Ow!"

"I said shush!" Hermione whispered harshly again. "Do you want to get him trouble?"

"What do you mean?" Harry's scar poked out from between the mop of messy hair he had clearly neglected to comb since the start of Easter break.

Hermione gave him a stern look before relenting. "You need to study more, Harry. I'm the muggle-born one here. You should know these things too. Owning a…" Hermione trailed off, leaning closer to the boy and whispering in a more hushed tone. "Owning a dragon egg is not exactly… legal."

Harry's eyes widened and his head quickly darted left, then right, looking around to make sure no one was eavesdropping on them. Nobody was, Hermione had chosen to sit on this side of the dining hall purposefully because most people were sat on the other side closer to the entrance. They could speak normally and no one would hear them if they wanted to, but caution was always better than not. "And how about a dragon? Is it illegal to own one too?"

Hermione glared at the boy. He wasn't dumb. Immature. Yes. Foolish. Yes. Air-headed. Perhaps. But not dumb. Though she did admit he was ignorant, even compared to a mud-blood like… Hermione stopped herself. She had been using that slur more often in reference to herself, Malfoy's influence no doubt. She wouldn't say it, but she definitely needed to stop thinking it too. It wasn't good for her to think that way.

"Yes, Harry. Dragons too. This isn't a which came first situation. Both dragons and dragon eggs are illegal."

Harry pondered for a moment before whispering back to the girl, "Darn, so we can't just wait it out until it hatches," to which Hermione directed a roll of her eyes.

"No, Harry. You cannot."

"Okay. I guess we'll have to go with Ron's plan and ask his brother for help."

"Help with the egg?"

"Yes. Ron's brother Charlie studies dragons in Romania. He figures he might know what to do with the egg."

Hermione nodded, relieved they at least knew an expert to gain guidance from. She knew Hagrid, despite his great knowledge on magical beasts, was no dragon tamer. However, another thought did pop into her mind. "Speaking of, why didn't you stay with Ron for the break?"

Harry studied her for a moment, a mix of emotions on his face from which Hermione could tell he was hiding things from her. Picking and choosing what he could and could not say. Something she was a master at. "I… I just had things I needed to do here."

"Well, I know you're not studying. I never see you in the library." Hermione had spent most of these first 4 days of break in the library. She had hardly seen anyone in there, let alone Potter.

"I actually have been in there," Harry affirmed. Hermione squinted at him as the boy smiled back at her, then looked down at his food and stuffed another sliced sausage into his mouth. That didn't seem like a lie. But it wasn't the whole truth either, she figured.

"Is that so?" Hermione eyed him warily. "Which books have you checked out? Which table do you sit at? What time do you normally go and for how long?"

Harry panicked at the sudden rush of questions, stuttering his way through a frenzy of responses even he wasn't sure made much sense and were a tad too detailed. "M- Magical Drafts and Potions vol 1.5, the extended version with the more detailed instructions. I sit at one of the back tables, the one just around the corner of the far shelf away from Madam Pince's line of sight. And I've only gone once during the break. It was two days ago, before breakfast for a little under an hour." Harry huffed after finishing, the last of his words squeaking out of him as he listed off his answers from one drawn breath.

"Wrong, wrong, and… Wrong!" Hermione glared daggers at the boy sat across from here, watching him shrink at her attention. "There is only one copy of the extended edition of Magical Drafts and Potions in the common library and I've had it borrowed for the last week and a half. That table has been removed temporarily because upperclassmen kept carving slurs and obscenities into it, and I was there at that exact date and time. You were not there, Harry!"

"O- okay! I'm sorry!" Harry crumbled immediately. He didn't expect he could fool her, and Hermione had immediately proven her suspicions right.

"What are you hiding, Harry?!" Hermione's voice grew more hoarse as she whispered a yell at the faltering Gryffindor. For all his feats of bravery, he appeared little more than a frightened child pressured by Hermione's gaze.

"I- I can't tell you here!" Harry pleaded. As far as secrets went, this was one even he wasn't willing to spout in public.

Hermione glared at him for just a moment longer. She had him. And the quicker she dug up dirt on Harry, the sooner she could stop dallying with him and get back to her own priorities. But she wasn't about to force him to spill his secrets here of all places, even if the likelihood of anybody spying on them was minuscule. Still, she couldn't just drag him to the Slytherin common room. Perhaps somewhere outside? Somewhere secluded?Hermione doubted anyone would notice, and the chance of someone passing by them during the break was near zero.

"Fine," she eventually nodded to Harry. "Let's find some place hidden." She stood and turned, starting to make her way toward the open dining hall doors.

"And preferably within the castle!" Harry watched her halt immediately. Hermione's face contorted with frustration for a moment as she turned back around to him. Harry shrunk, this time not at her gaze, but at the menacing smile she wore in an attempt to hide her annoyance. "P- please..?" He stammered.

"Why?"

"W- well, it's safer?"

That, of course, was nonsensical to Hermione. In fact it was contrary to her own experiences. Hermione had been attacked by a troll in the restroom. That happened in the castle, not outside. Pansy frequently bullied her in the dorm, the common room, down the halls, and in class. All in the castle, not outside. As far as Hermione knew, outside of the castle — far and away from everyone else — was the safest place to be.

Safest.

Hermione eyed him once more. Malfoy would be livid if he found out she had taken Harry there. But it was undeniably the safest place she knew, inside and outside combined.

"Follow." She demanded, and turned on her heel, pacing quickly down the long dining tables and out of the hall, hearing the scuttering steps of the boy behind her as he moved to catch up.

Lucius looked down at his snarling son walking beside him after having apparated them both to Hogsmeade and made their way up to Hogwarts Castle. Narcissa had insisted that she would stay behind to care for Draco, but Lucius knew that when the Dark Lord called she would be unable to resist his beckoning. Luckily, the Dark Lord hardly ever called a full meeting for his loyal subjects. However, this time was one such rare occasion. Their meeting was tonight, and the summons — to his surprise — had been given in advance. Rather than finding a sitter or leaving his son to his own devices, Lucius figured he wasn't paying for his son's education without reason and had decided to cut Draco's return home for break short. Hogwarts notably did not charge for tuition, but the point remained in his mind. He paid for books, robes, wands, and pets. Draco may as well get more use out of them. And while Narcissa and Draco debated him over the decision — one to spend more time with her precious child, the other in desire to come to the meeting — Lucius eventually won over Narcissa with promise of a familial retreat over the summer, leaving Draco out-numbered.

"You won't get what you want acting a foolish child. You've grown too much for tantrums, haven't you?" Lucius turned away from his son and walked forward, the strict stare in his eyes a familiar one to his defiant son.

"I'm not throwing a tantrum! I just don't understand why you won't let me go! Like you said, 'I've grown!'"

"Evidently in age, but not in mind. These meetings are invitation only. And you…" he tapped the underside of his wrist. "Are not invited."

Draco knew the the argument was lost. It wasn't so much that he wanted to attend that meeting. In truth, Draco was still unsure what taking that vow truly meant. And while his goal had always been, and still was, to become a Death Eater, he also knew that the Dark Lord wasn't so desperate that a kid like him could take the mark. Draco, instead, dreaded the boredom of what an empty Hogwarts had in store for him. None of his gang nor followers had stayed behind for the Holiday. Even Potter was likely heading off to the Weasley shack, so messing with him was off the table. And Hermione… He recalled for a second her fair skin, the mess of frazzled hair, and her chestnut tinted eyes. There was warmth, yet regret in her memory. They hadn't parted on the best of terms and the task he had set her near the end of their most recent argument was likely an impossible one seeing as without Potter in the school, there wasn't exactly much she could dig up on the nuisance.

"Why can't I just stay at home and wait for you both to return? Dobby or one of the other elfs will cook and clean for me regardless, won't they?"

Lucius scoffed at the mention of the useless house elf. Yes, they probably would care well enough for Draco to survive without himself and Narcissa there, but he wouldn't have his son unsupervised at the manor to laze about without purpose. Besides, if Draco wanted so much to come to his meetings, he still had much to prove.

"No." He said firmly, ending the conversation with a final word to his son. "You'll stay here at the school. Proving yourself means more than just using power you were born with. Make an impact that matters. Show me that you're more than just the brainless rabble you surround yourself with."

Those words stung the boy like blade piercing his heart. So much effort he had put in to build himself up into a leader within Slytherin and Hogwarts as a whole, to have it all belittled by his father was infuriating. He wanted to speak up. He wanted to yell back all the things he had accomplished already. But truly, aside from gathering bodies, what had he actually accomplished? That realization alone was enough to wreak havoc within his psyche to the very core.

Lucius turned once more to his son, the rage in his small frame obvious as they locked eyes. "Don't disappoint me, boy," was all he said as the doors swung open and Lucius disappeared into the many halls of Hogwarts castle.

Draco was livid.

Malfoy sat beside the tea set resting on the table. He bothered not to brew any for himself, but instead took one of the small spoons and tapped it gently on the table cloth. His jaw was still clenched from the anger he felt at his father. Draco had been doing his best. He was high up the standing as a student, reigned above all else in his year within Slytherin. Even upperclassman often deferred to him as a member of one of the highest ranking families in the school. The Noble house Malfoy. But there was more to it than just the boy lording his family's influence among his peers. Draco was putting in the work. He held himself to the highest standards, and those he kept around needed to meet his expectations, or be cast aside. Nobody did anything of import within Hogwarts without him hearing about, and that network of loyal underlings was all the fruits of his arduous labor. Socializing, intimidating, persuading, compromising. But it wasn't enough for Lucius. It never was.

Malfoy wiped at his eyes, using his sleeve to clear away his frustration, lip trembling as he cleared his throat. Voices now sounded from behind the closed wall, not something he would normally pay attention to. But this time, the voices stopped where the entrance to his quiet place was hidden. Luckily, the magic ward that kept the privacy of the space within extended only one way. Sounds could not escape, but they did enter — a welcome advantage for those within.

There were two voices. Higher in pitch, far too muffled and secretive to be heard properly. Draco couldn't tell if they were women or children, but he knew that soon he would find out. The bricks began to fold within themselves, opening up the entryway as the voices outside spoke up again.

"Wow! What is this place?" Draco recognized the voice as Potter's. He was here, and hadn't gone home? If that were true, then the person with him, the only one he knew that had knowledge of this place and would consort with Harry was...

"That's a secret. And you can never tell anybody it exists if you know what's good for you, got it?" Hermione threatened Harry with a stern stare. She was never that straightforward and demanding when she spoke to Draco. At least, not since the day she had given her social freedom to him. Draco mused at her tone and composure, at the idea that the lightning-scarred four-eyes was so far beneath him, even Hermione could put her foot down and compel him. It brought a grin to his face, until he realized his predicament.

Draco was caught in a moment of weakness. Draco Malfoy was not weak. But his eyes were red, he had tear marks streaking down his cheeks. Should anybody see him now, there was little doubt that he appeared anything more than an upset little boy. Nobody was meant to see him like this, especially not Hermione and Potter. The humiliation of vulnerability was beyond his years to comprehend, but an innate fear regardless. So much so, that it became the only immediate consequence that mattered.

Malfoy flung himself over the railing, climbing swiftly over and finding perch on ledge to the left of the balcony his prepubescent body was just able to balance on it. He stood dead silent as Hermione stepped swiftly onto the balcony and spoke out.

"Hello?" She turned quickly to the still-open doorway and signaled Harry to come in. "Quick! Get in!"

Harry shuffled in, standing beside the girl as he looked around the balcony. "Did you see someone in here?" He asked, wondering why she had initially entered so trepidatiously.

"No, I just thought I heard something, but it might have just been a bird." Her frizzy hair bounced slightly as she stepped forward and tapped her wand above the arch of the newly formed doorway. The bricks started to fold back out and quickly closed the wall shut once more.

Harry watched in awe. "How did you find this place?" He stepped to the table and sat down, looking out toward the view and then back at Hermione, goofy smiled plastered on his face.

"I.." Hermione hesitated for a moment. She wasn't sure how to answer that. Saying it was Draco's father's quiet place didn't exactly inspire confidence that Harry could spill his secrets here. Bringing Draco up at all could risk him going quiet altogether. Boys had a tendency of huffing and puffing there chests up when their "enemy" was mentioned. "A friend showed it to me. But it's a secret! You can't tell anybody about this place, Harry. Please. You have to promise." If word ever got to Draco that she brought Harry here, who knows what he would do to them both. Keeping it a secret was as much a favor to her as it was for Harry himself, Hermione thought.

"Oh. So it's like a Slytherin spot? Can't have them thinking you brought a Gryffindor here?" Harry smiled at her knowingly. He was, of course, wrong, but not terribly so. And it was about as convenient an assumption as she could hope for.

"Yes, thank you for understanding," Hermione nodded. Relieved at Harry's overly trusting nature. "Promise," She demanded.

Harry reached out a pinky finger. "Promise," He asserted. Hermione knew muggle tradition. It had been a while since she last swore in that manner. Since before she knew what she was. Back when the kids at the orphanage didn't have much of a reason to bully her. Long ago when she had "friends" not for the sake of survival, but just… because. She wrapped her finger around his and they both nodded contentedly at one another before letting go.

Draco stood still, listening to the conversation. She had done well convincing Harry to keep quiet about the balcony, despite the fact that she should have never brought him here to begin with. But credit where credit was due. She had him alone and trapped. If she was ever going to dig some dirt on Potter, now was as best a chance as any.

Hermione sat across from Harry, a serious look on her face. "So, what is it? What couldn't you tell me before?"

Harry looked pensive for a moment, still unsure if telling Hermione was for the best. She was a Slytherin, after all. Cunning was quite literally the name of the game for those lot. But Harry knew Hermione was different. She may be Slytherin, but he considered her a friend ever since they had survived the troll attack together in the girl's restroom months prior. She was trustworthy and a brilliant witch, despite all the baseless rumors.

"I've been sneaking into the library's restricted section at night."

Hermione's eyes went wide. "What?! Harry, are you crazy?!" She was dumbfounded at his idiocy. What need did a first year have of the restricted section and how did he even get in? "Just what were you looking for?"

"Hermione, do you know anything about Nicolas Flamel?" For once, Harry eyed her as seriously as she did. No goofs, no gags. Just Harry.

"I.." She thought about the name for a moment, and then it hit her. Professor Quirrell had casually mentioned the wizard by name not but a few days before. He had jokingly mentioned that a strong defense against the dark arts was as important to a witch as the elixir of life to the famed alchemist Nicolas Flamel and would keep you alive just the same. An inconsequential reference that had nearly gone forgotten. She recalled to Harry Quirrell's joke and the boy jumped out of his seat.

"Yes! Precisely. And do you remember the Gringotts break-in a few months ago?"

Hermione did remember it. It was all over the news for days. Gringotts wasn't exactly a place most could sneak into. She nodded to Harry. "But the Daily Prophet said nothing was taken. Are you saying…?"

"No. It's true. They didn't take anything."

"And you know that for sure?" Hermione had no reason to doubt him, considering she knew even less than he did about the topic, but he seemed awfully sure of himself for someone unrelated.

"I... Yes, I'm sure. That vault. Hagrid took me to that vault just before the crime was reported. More like a stop along the way. He took a package from there and told me to keep quiet about it."

"Wait. Does that mean he's the one..." Hermione's mind swirled from the implications as she tried to interpret the all-too-sudden rush of information Harry was dumping onto her lap.

"No!" He interrupted, assuring her that Hagrid was innocent. "He was there on official business. Secret, yes, but not illegal. The goblins accompanied us the entire time we were looking through the vaults."

Her mind eased, taking a moment now to calmly analyze the information presented to her. "So what's the connection between this vault and Nicolas Flamel? Is that what Hagrid took out of there? An elixir?"

Harry shook his head. "Not an elixir. Hermione, Ron and I discovered a door here at Hogwarts. But that door is being guarded by Fluffy, Hagrid's cerberus."

"A cerberus?"

He nodded back to her. "If we can find a way past Fluffy, we believe it's guarding more than just an elixir. I think it's guarding the source of those elixirs of life. A Philosopher's Stone. That's what Nicolas Flamel uses to create them."

Hermione didn't know what to make of Harry's story. It was a lot to process. And coming from the mouth of an 11 year old, it didn't seem all that plausible that he and Ronald Weasley of all people had unraveled this mystery alone. She hadn't expected any of this. Hermione had thought that at most she'd find out that Harry was a peeping Tom, or was sneaking out out to play tricks with Ron and his brothers. Even the dragon egg, keeping that secret for Hagrid, seemed perfectly ordinary in comparison to.. whatever conspiracy this was.

"Harry... Are you sure about this? I mean, why? Why hide it here? Why not the ministry?"

Harry's eyes grew cold. Hermione wasn't sure why, but she had hit a sensitive topic. "Who is after that stone, Harry?"

His eyes lit up with a mix of fear and determination. Whatever he was about to tell her, Hermione questioned whether she really wanted to hear it. But it was too late to back out now.

"Because the only person he fears is the headmaster here. He's after the stone to resurrect himself from whatever undead form he's in now." Harry took a step toward Hermione. "Voldemort."

Malfoy shrieked as he jolted from the mention of the Dark Lord. His body pushed forward and he could feel his balance go. But he was pulled back in. He turned and Potter was on him immediately, pressed against the railing and holding tight with both hands to Draco's sleeve and arm.

"Pull yourself up, Malfoy!" Harry grit his teeth, doing his best to keep hold of Draco as he panicked along the edge.

A second pair of hands clung to his other sleeve. Malfoy looked up and found Hermione's thin fingers gripping him tightly. "Draco! Are you okay?" Her concerned expression was all it took for him to snap out of his panic. He found firm footing against the wall and pulled himself up, flanked on either side by the pair still on the balcony. Malfoy stood now, leaning over the railing and holding tight onto it.

"Here," Hermione placed one of her hands on his. "Pull yourself over, that's still dangerous."

Draco looked up. Their eyes met and he felt the flutter in his chest, his weakness for her nipping at the part of him that hated showing any kind of vulnerability. He swiped her hand away and quickly leaped over the railing.

"I'm fine. Don't need help from the likes of you." He cast his eyes away from her and over to Harry. "Or you." Draco moved quickly to one of the chairs and sat, flexing his legs in an attempt to hide how they trembled until the fear soon faded.

Hermione was the first to speak up. All concern was now replaced by that frigid stare she so often reserved for Malfoy and his goons. "So... Is that why you showed me this place? To spy on me?"

"I wasn't spying!"

"Sure looked like you were. From your little hiding spot over there." Harry's words jabbed at Draco as they locked eyes.

"Hiding? Why would I ever need to hide from you?!"

Hermione was fed up with his lies. "If not hiding, then what was that? What games are you playing, Malfoy?"

"My name is Draco!" He yelled, louder than perhaps even he intended, and stood over her, only just. He didn't want to hear that name right now. He didn't want to think of his father. Hermione was one of few people who ever used his first name. Most only ever saw him as Malfoy, son of Lucius. That was one of the reasons why he... Draco flushed as the thought crossed his mind. He stepped away from her, turning to Harry just as he adjusted his glasses and spoke up.

"How much did you hear?" Harry joined in the icy looks, more out of nerves than anything else.

"I heard you say something you shouldn't speak about, Potter."

"Because your scared to say his name, or because you know something about his return?"

Draco was surprised for only a moment before he squinted at Harry in disdain. What he was insinuating was slanderous beyond reproach. That a noble Malfoy would be in anyway associated to matters of the Dark Lord was a topic few had the foolish heart to even think about, let alone say. And though Harry was in no way incorrect, there were some things you didn't say out loud. And as he balled his fists and angled towards Harry, Hermione quickly stepped in to interrupt.

"Draco. Why are you here?"

Because his father was impossible to appease. Because no matter how much he tried to earn Lucius' respect, it was never enough. Because the Dark Lord mattered more to Lucius than... That was right. The Dark Lord. Draco recalled his father's words. That proving himself was about making a tangible impact. What greater impact could he make than ruining the boy who lived? The fated enemy of his father's precious master. Whatever Harry was getting mixed up in, it evidently had something to do with the Dark Lord.

Draco sneered, moving past Hermione and shoving the girl to the side, one of the two chairs beside her, and landing her sat in it as she vocalized her protest. "Hey!"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Potter." The confident glare in his silver eyes betrayed his statement, daring Harry to dig deeper, but Malfoy continued. "Sadly for you, you're the only one keeping secrets around here. Secrets I'm happy to be a part of now." It was a sly threat. Malfoy now knew the many rules Harry had broken skulking about the castle at night.

"What do you want?" Harry surrendered, the hiss of anger in his voice.

"My father has important dealings to handle for the rest of break and mother has decided to accompany him. Meaning I'm left here with nothing to do."

"I don't care," Harry mocked.

"Well, you should. Because whatever you both have going on around here, whatever this little meeting was about, I want in."

Hermione jumped to her feet. "We weren't planning anything, Draco. We were just talking."

"Sounded a lot like planning to me."

"Oh, you mean back when you were hiding from us?" Harry gave a sly smirk of his own to the visibly reddening blonde.

"I said I was not hiding!" Malfoy pressed himself up against Harry, staring him down, but the Gryffindor did not back away.

Hermione sighed, her head starting to ache, regret for having ever dared to bring Harry here beginning to set in. She had been to presumptuous to think digging into Harry Potter's business in the name of Draco Malfoy would end smoothly. And now the air was thick with two meat-headed boys vying for superiority and she had the unenviable pleasure of being caught between them.

"Boys, please!" She pleaded, attempting to bring some semblance of peace among enemies. They both immediately turned to her.

"Not now, Hermione!" They shouted in unison. For once, they agreed. This was between them. Hermione was just collateral damage.

But the Slytherin girl would not have them bickering like toddlers. She was sick and tired of being disregarded, and the fact that Draco was even here, messing up her plans once again, filled her with that familiar sense of futility, one that angered her more than she cared to admit.

"I said stop!"

Ever since learning of herself, what she was, and the abilities a witch had, Hermione had made it a point to learn control. It was too often the case within fairy tales and fantasy books she had read that failure in control over one's powers resulted in preventable conflict. Not once since she began to study magic did Hermione lose control. She didn't want what happened to her parents to ever happen again, not if she could stop it.

So when she felt that all-too familiar release of pressure, the sickly burning smell that hung in the air, and the sound of clattering metal and flesh against stone — Hermione's eyes shot open and her violet irises faded to the same cocoa-brown as her mother's.

Both chairs had slammed into opposite walls of the balcony and were smoldering in flames. The ground was covered in the shattered porcelain of the flowery tea set. The circular table was nearly split in two, metal torn and dented. Beneath the table, and pressed against the railing, was black robes with maroon accents sticking out. Harry was still, lifeless.

Hermione's eyes blurred as involuntary tears crowded her vision, sliding down her smooth cheeks with reckless abandon. She stared down at her hands as they trembled and flashes of memory bounced around her mind. Memories of her most precious people similarly unmoving. She began to hic, and cry loudly as reality started to set in. Here she was again. All the studying. All of that care and effort and sacrifice. Everything she had given up just to feel in control of herself and her her future for once. It was gone in an instant. A petty argument was all it took. What had even been the point?

"H- Hermione?"

Draco was on his hands and knees looking up at her. A fitting place for him to be. And before that seedling thought had time to settle in, Draco coughed a splatter of deep crimson onto the ground.

Hermione rushed to his side. "D- Draco! I- I- I'm so sorry! I.. I didn't mean to. I just.. I lost.. I..."

"Shut up..!" Draco huffed. "I'm not weak enough for you to kill me." The truth was Draco had no idea what happened, or if Hermione had even been the cause of it. But his ribs ached in piercing pain with every movement, every breath. And in this moment, this chattering mess of a girl was the only hope he had to find help. Draco had to give her every bit of confidence she so severely lacked.

"And neither is he," Draco nodded his head at Harry. He grit his teeth. The kid looked as dead as dead could be, totally motionless. But he had to give her hope one way or another. "What?" He replied to the questioning, concerned stare Hermione gave him. "Don't flatter yourself, Granger. Even V- Voldemort couldn't kill him. What makes you think you can?"

It was odd having Draco act encouraging for once. It wouldn't kill him to be less snarky and combative about it, but there was something assuring about that normalcy. It felt like those few quiet, fleeting moments when they would find themselves alone in her favorite corner of the common room engaged in genuine discussion. Those rare, dream-like minutes when she felt at ease by his side, as if she really was his friend. And that bravery to help calm her at this time, blood dribbling down his chin, was inspiring. Hermione slid her head under his arm. The mess of curls like a cushion to lean on. She counted to three and lifted Draco onto his feet.

"Aaagh!" He shouted, groaning as his broken ribs nearly sent him into a fit of vomiting from the pain alone. That wasn't the weakness she needed right now. He knew that Hermione needed to lean emotionally on him as much as he physically needed to do to her. So he held it in via willpower alone. His legs were jelly, shaking and sore already. He lent on her for a minute, let the strength settle back into his thighs and calves. Letting her flowery scent mask the burning one for just a moment longer...

Then Draco stood back from her.

"Are you fine?" Her eyes were like puppy dogs, riddled with guilt and hope and doom all in one. "Are you sure you don't need my help?"

"No!" Draco grunted at her at nodded toward Harry. He figured if he stood still enough, he could hold in the pain. And given a bit more time could mentally prepare himself for whatever came next. He nodded toward Harry. "Check on him if you've got time to worry."

Hermione gave him another pained look of regret. He knew what she was thinking without her even saying it. Those self-deprecating, self-destructive thoughts she had a habit of putting herself down with. If he could reach in and snatch them out of her head, he would.

Hermione hovered over Harry, first lifting the table up and away from his body, happy to see that it was neither impaled in him nor bent around him in any invasive manner. She tossed it to the side and knelt beside Harry, placing a trembling hand near his chest and immediately feeling her own heart skip a beat, relief washing over her. She could feel his breath, ragged as it was, but he was alive. She immediately flicked her head over to Draco and her smile was so bright that he felt his own face twitch and return one to her before catching himself in the act.

Hermione looked down at Harry and thought for a moment. The smart thing to do was to rush to Madam Pomfrey and bring her back here as soon as possible. But her office was a fair distance. Rushing their and back and leaving both Draco and Harry here in their current states didn't sit right with her. And deep within her conscious, she was battling the impending fear of her certain expulsion.

But then it hit her. Someone she could trust to heal without fear of repercussions.

"I know where to take him!"

Draco stared dumbfounded for a second at her. The obvious choice was Pomfrey. But looking at her, Draco doubted she would make a fuss over something so obvious. Whatever she was thinking, Draco was in too much pain as his adrenaline dipped to bother questioning, and simply nodded back at Hermione. Besides, Lucius was likely still lurking around Hogwarts. If Hermione had a plan that didn't involve Pomfrey, and thus his father, then Draco was all for it.

Quirrell could not believe the scene before him. The Potter scum was laid half dead in front of him. He could likely leave him there and watch his body slowly breakdown and wither to death. Or perhaps make a slight flick of his wand and he could end his Master's greatest obstacle. Quirrell flinched slightly as the thought quickly vanished behind a potent anger that welled up at the back of his skull: his Master was unhappy at his rogue thinking. Quirrell knew Potter couldn't die. Not yet. There were still too many plans to be had with the boy who lived.

"Professor!" Hermione chirped from Quirrell. He turned and faced the girl. She was such a refreshing sight compared to the filth he had just been eying. "I've done what you told me, but Draco is still in a lot of pain!" She continued. Her hand was on the silver-eyed boy's as she looked up at Quirrell expectantly.

Quirrell took note of their apparent connection and cleared his throat. "Right, yes. M- M- Ms. Granger. That's b- because the spell is only good for m- minor injuries. Young M- Mr. M- M- Malfoy is suffering from internal injuries as well. B- Broken ribs, most likely."

"How do we fix that?" She was a ball of concern and gripped Draco's hand tighter.

"Potions, Ms. Granger. With m- many potions. Skele-Gro, B- Blood-Replenishing Potion, M- M- Murtlap Essence. And a jar of Burn-Healing P- Paste for this one," Quirrell nodded back to Harry. He saw the wide-eyed horror in Hermione's gaze. "It's not too b- bad, b- but more than I can heal with Episkey. Should all be in the cabinet over there. Severus's own. B- better than you can buy." He smiled at her. She shouldn't be this stressed, this bothered by two pathetic insects toiling away her time with their pointless lives. They should be begging her to let them die for her. But the furious heat stinging him behind his head brought Quirrell's thoughts back to the task at hand.

"They're labeled, M- M- Ms. Granger. Should be n- near the bottom left shelf. Hurry. We have m- much work to do."