She regretted every minute of inviting McLaggen to the Slug Club's Christmas party. Her entire evening would be devoted to keeping a vigilant eye on him, ensuring he didn't overstep any boundaries. Not that she had any specific plans for the night.

In fact, she even regretted having accepted the invitation in the first place, but declining wasn't an option. She couldn't leave Harry on his own; he was still fixated on Malfoy. With Dumbledore's lessons, he had become even more enigmatic and unpredictable than ever before.

Ginny poked her head through the partially open door, snapping her out of her thoughts. "Do you need any assistance? We should probably head out soon. I know Dean is already waiting for me in the common room."

As usual, Ginny was radiant, and it seemed effortless on her part. Hermione had spent the past two hours attempting to manage her unruly curls. The outcome was marginally better than her usual hairstyle, but she would have traded anything for hair as silky and luminous as her friend's.

"I was trying to braid these," she said, showing her bushy mane to Ginny as she continued, "but it's quite stubborn. If you think you can work your magic on it, I don't know how I could thank you."

"Alright, Hermione, let me handle this. Hair won't outsmart me!"

Hermione took a seat at her desk, leaving Ginny in charge of her hair. McLaggen was supposed to meet her in the common room at eight, but she had the feeling that he wouldn't wait for her. He was probably already en-route to the party, eager to make a conspicuous entrance. To boost her confidence, she nervously played with her bracelet.

"Hey, I've never seen you wear that before. It's beautiful. How long have you had it?"

"Sirius gave it to me when we stayed in Grimmauld Place before our fifth year. But I didn't want to wear it then."

Technically, it wasn't a lie. Sirius had told that she should take it before Mundungus stole it. He later encouraged her to take anything she wanted, except for the many objects that were tainted with dark magic.

"Well, I think it compliments your dress perfectly. You look stunning. I've finished with your hair, go see for yourself. I'll head down to join Dean. We'll wait for you."

For once, Hermione had been wrong about McLaggen. He had waited for her, as agreed. He had even behaved like a true gentleman, giving her his arm to guide her — to parade her — towards Slughorn's office.

Once there, however, the young man's behaviour became increasingly insistent. She wasn't interested in Cormac at all, and had no intention of forming a relationship with him. She had only invited him to upset Ron. Because of his misplaced jealousy. Merlin, the boy only knew how to talk about himself. About himself and Quidditch. Two of Hermione's favourite topics of conversation. Not for a moment did he ask her about herself, what she liked, what she wanted to do after Hogwarts. In a way, it was easier for her, she just had to pretend to listen to him, nodding at regular intervals, making small talk and acting as though she was interested in what he had to say, but she wasn't. At least it saved her the trouble of having a conversation with someone, when all she wanted to do was crawl into bed.

She caught sight of Harry, who was having a reluctant discussion with Professor Slughorn. He had invited Luna as his date, she was happy for him, even if she knew he would have preferred to invite another witch. She chose not to disturb him, as she would have the whole evening to chat with them later.

She had managed to escape McLaggen temporarily, and took the opportunity to grab a glass of champagne and enjoy the evening as best she could. Professor Slughorn had really outdone himself. The room was beautifully decorated, in shades of white and silver that made it quite magical. He had even hired waiters to take care of the service. She greeted the few students she recognised, engaged in polite, but short conversations with Professor Slughorn's guests, then decided to move a little to the side so she could take a breath and collect herself.

"Hermione, dear, I've been looking all over for you. Why did you hide here?" Oh no. Hermione turned back to the voice she had recognised, trying to regain her composure.

"I wasn't hiding, Cormac, I just wanted to take a few moments for myself before coming back to the party."

Hermione saw him look away from her, glancing above them, before he replied, "I see you've picked the perfect spot. You know, you didn't have to wait to get me under a mistletoe branch."

And at these words, he winked at her, then approached her, his head bending towards hers. Hermione cursed herself for a thousand generations. She had just set a trap for herself. She saw McLaggen's much too close face coming towards her, his eyes fixed on her, a proud and lustful look in his eyes, his much too large mouth plunging towards hers.

She barely had time to dodge the unwanted kiss, before heading back to the party far too quickly. She looked swiftly at Harry, then ran towards him. She was determined to avoid another tête-à-tête with McLaggen. She was relieved to find him free of any company and so was able to talk to her friend. He didn't seem to be enjoying the evening either.

No sooner had she told him about her misadventure when Filch barged in, cutting her off, accompanied by Malfoy.

What was he doing here? He wasn't even invited! She wondered.

The few words exchanged between Filch, Professor Slughorn and Malfoy confirmed her musings. However, Professor Slughorn eventually extended an invitation, much to Harry's dismay.

Malfoy didn't seem pleased either. Looking at him more closely, she noticed that he looked ill. His skin was even paler than usual, almost corpse-like.

She had spent more time than usual looking at him in recent weeks, almost without realising it. It all started logically enough. Harry talked about him so obsessively, that she'd taken to looking for his platinum blond hair along the Slytherin table at every meal. This had changed over the last fortnight, however, during which Hermione found herself searching for his face in the corridors, in the classrooms, even in the library.

He just looked drained of energy, no matter what time of day it was. Tormented, stressed. He had lost some of the confidence he had displayed in previous years, when he would walk through the halls as though he owned the whole of Hogwarts. Despite the despicable way he had behaved before this year, she could only feel sorry for him. His father had, after all, just been locked up in Azkaban. This had obviously shaken him. No one deserved to feel this bad.

"What are you doing Harry?" she asked him, snapping out of her thoughts as she saw her best friend heading towards the exit.

"Oh… nothing, I just need to get some fresh air for a few moments, it's a little too crowded for me here. But don't worry, I will come back soon and we can go back to the tower together, whenever you want."

It was only when he walked through the door out of Professor Slughorn's office that Hermione noticed that Malfoy was no longer there either.

After exchanging a few words with Luna and Ginny, Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. She decided it was time to slip away from the party; every moment in that room felt more suffocating than the last. Cormac McLaggen had mercifully found a seventh-year Ravenclaw, who seemed eager enough to indulge his ego, leaving Hermione free from his relentless advances. But it was Harry and Malfoy's abrupt departures that had left her with a growing sense of unease.

With determination, Hermione set off to find Harry and question him about his suspicious behaviour. However, her search proved fruitless as she scoured the corridors and checked the adjacent rooms, finding no trace of him.

As she rounded a bend in a dimly lit staircase, almost by chance, Hermione stumbled upon Draco Malfoy. What she saw stopped her dead in her tracks. Malfoy looked more dishevelled and disturbed than she had ever seen him before. He sat there, his back against the wall, almost hidden by one of the Hogwarts' suits of armour, lost in his thoughts. His fingers ran aimlessly through his platinum hair, an action that betrayed his inner turmoil.

Hermione couldn't understand why it bothered her so much to see him like this. After all, they had never been on friendly terms. Yet, despite the animosity between them, she couldn't ignore the genuine pain etched across his features. His eyes were devoid of their usual arrogance, replaced with a haunting sadness that sent a shiver down her spine.

Malfoy was so engrossed in his own misery that he hadn't noticed Hermione's presence. She hesitated for a moment, torn between her natural instinct to keep her distance from him, and an inexplicable urge to reach out and offer comfort. She didn't want to see anyone, not even Malfoy, in such a state of despair.

As the seconds ticked by, Hermione made a decision. She couldn't approach him. Instead, told herself that she would keep an eye on him. This unexpected glimpse into his vulnerability had left her with a strange mix of emotions, but for now, all she could do was hope that he would find a way to cope with whatever was troubling him. With a heavy heart, Hermione turned away, leaving Malfoy to his thoughts, determined to stay vigilant in case he needed help or if the situation worsened.