Hermione usually visited the library every day, but now Mondays and Fridays were extra special. She would arrive earlier, and place herself behind the bookshelf. She would start working on her things, but not entirely concentrate on what she was doing. The empty seat always took away her attention, until the familiar face showed up and filled up the spot.

Hermione wouldn't consider them as friends, yet, but more like studying companions. His company was more beneficial than she had imagined. Having been a wizard his whole life, Draco knew a lot more about the magical world. He could always provide more details or another point of view outside of the books, not to mention he was actually the most intelligent student she had ever met in their year, besides herself of course (and she's quite confident about being the smarter one). She sometimes even enjoyed outsmarting him on certain subjects just to see him sulk.

But little did she know Draco shared the same pleasure. He knew he had the upper hand when it came to Potions. He wouldn't correct her, but he would make it obvious that he had completed the assignment before she did, and would watch her struggle with amusement.

However, as December approached, Hermione started to tense up whenever they met. As much as she enjoyed their secret meet-ups, Hermione was making the Polyjuice Potion with the goal of deceiving him.

Draco was definitely not the heir of Slytherin, she couldn't be more certain. But Harry was right, there was a high chance that Draco knew something about the Chamber of Secrets. Besides, there was no other way better than the confession from Draco himself to convince Ron that Draco was not the heir of Slytherin.

Hermione once thought about asking Draco about it, but she quickly discarded the idea. She admitted it was an act of selfishness. She didn't want to risk ruining the relationship that they had. Taking the Polyjuice Potion should be the best, harmless way to get information from Draco.

Or so she thought.

Hogwarts was filled with a festive atmosphere when Christmas arrived. Many students were looking forward to the holidays to travel back home.

Hermione was supposed to be home with her parents, drinking hot chocolate and watching TV in the warmth of their home. Everything was well-planned until she came up with the Polyjuice Potion plan. She made an excuse of having a group project, forcing her to stay within the magical boundaries.

The potion would be completed on Christmas Eve. The trio decided to carry out their plan on the very next day when they found out Draco and his gang were going to stay over at Hogwarts during the holidays.

The three kids spent their time opening their Christmas presents on the morning of Christmas Day. Hermione received a letter from her parents, saying that her presents awaited her. They wanted to owl the presents, but were afraid the tiny owl couldn't handle the heavy gifts. Harry didn't get anything from the Dursleys, which was not surprising, but he also received a nice package from Mrs Weasley.

Unfortunately for Ron, what he received was a newspaper clipping from the Daily Prophet and a second Howler from his mother.

"RONALD WEASLEY! LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE! YOUR FATHER WAS FINED AND QUESTIONED FOR HIS ABILITY TO STAY IN THE MINISTRY! YOU ARE LUCKY HE WAS NOT FIRED!… Oh, and Harry my dear, I hope you like the present."

"Sometimes I wonder if I'm really her son, or is it you instead," said Ron, still creeped out by his mother's screams. Luckily, they were the only ones in the common room so no one else got to hear the embarrassing bashing.

Harry picked up the clipping from the floor.

ARTHER WEASLEY FACES CHARGES FOR BEWITCHING A MUGGLE VEHICLE

"Well, on the bright side," he passed the clipping to Ron. "We can use this as an approach to Malfoy."

Hermione had the whole thing planned out. She prepared two Christmas cookies filled with Sleeping Draught. Harry and Ron reluctantly took them when they heard about the plan. They tricked Crabbe and Goyle, drugged them with the cookies, and soon the two chubby boys were fast asleep. Harry and Ron hid them in a broom closet and took some strands of hair from them, all according to Hermione's instructions. As for Hemione, she had gotten a strand of hair from Millicent Bulstrode, a Slytherin girl who went home during the holiday.

They gathered in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, where the thick, muddy potion was brewed. With a glass in one hand and strands of hair on the other, "Cheers" as they dropped the hair into their glasses and swallowed the potion with disgust on their faces.

"Wow, that's disgusting," said Ron with his tongue sticking out.

"I totally agree with you… Ron! Your hair!"

In just a few seconds, the trio had transformed into three different people. They were all amazed but terrified by their new looks. Hermione reassured the boys that the potion would wear off in an hour, so they quickly changed into some stolen Slytherin robes and hurried to the Slytherin common room.

It was then that they realised they did not know the password to the common room. As the three paced in a circle at the entrance, a familiar voice echoed in the tunnel, "What on earth are you two doing here?"

The trio turned around and saw their target, Draco Malfoy. Harry and Ron suddenly panicked and didn't know what to say. Hermione held back the urge to roll her eyes and answered, "We forgot the password."

Harry and Ron slowly turned to Hermione in horror. That was the worst possible answer, they thought in unison.

"Right, the new password," said Draco. He walked past the trio and stood in front of the damp stone wall. "Pure-blood."

The hidden door slowly slid open and Draco went in without saying another word. The trio quietly followed. As they entered the unfamiliar common room, they headed to their different targets, Harry and Ron to Draco, while Hermione looked around to find anything suspicious.

Harry and Ron, as Crabbe and Goyle approached the now-reading Draco.

"What do you want?" asked Draco, while keeping his eyes on his book.

"Thought you might want to see this," Harry clumsily took out the clipping and showed it to Draco. He scoffed after scanning through the clipping and tossing it into the nearby fireplace, "Arthur Weasley loves the muggles so much that he should snap his wand and join them. You'd never know the Weasleys are pure-bloods, the way they behave."

Harry could feel Ron tense up and he gently nudged him by the shoulder. However, Harry soon felt the same as Ron did as Draco continued bashing the Weasleys, the school and Professor Dumbledore. They forced some laughter just to satisfy Draco but he didn't seem to care.

"Saint Potter, the Mudblood's friends," said Malfoy slowly. A pair of careful hands placed down the ancient objects when the word came out from Malfoy. "He's another one with no proper wizard feeling, or he wouldn't go around with that jumped-up Granger Mudblood. And people think he's Slytherin's heir!"

There was still a bit of hope in Hermione that Draco was not referring to her when he said the word Mudblood, but when she heard her name, her hope shattered. Every word he said was like pinning a nail to her heart.

"He's not the Slytherin's heir…?" Harry asked, while trying to sound dumb to hide his nervousness.

"For Merlin's sake, how thick are you actually, Goyle?" Darco grumbled, looking at Harry with disbelief. "How many times do I have to tell you, Sodding Potter is NOT the heir of Slytherin! For Salazar's sake… I wish I knew who it was. Father knows it, but he wouldn't tell. But I know one thing - last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Mudblood died. So I bet it's a matter of time before one of them's killed this time… I hope it's Granger," he mumbled.

A stack of books fell, causing some disturbance. They turned around and saw Millicent Bulstrode clumsily picking up the fallen books. Before Draco could say another word, she dashed out of the common room and left. Harry and Ron exchanged a concerned look, and they asked a few more questions before running off as well.

Draco was baffled by their strange behaviour, but didn't care much since Crabbe and Goyle were the most thickheaded pair he ever knew. He went back to his dormitory, laid down on his bed and let out a heavy sigh.

He never liked it when Crabbe and Goyle discussed sensitive matters with him. He never got to voice his true opinions and thoughts when those two were around. At first, he thought he could buy their loyalties, but soon he understood that they were too ignorant to be blackmailed and they would say or do anything if their fathers commanded, including ratting on Draco.

Being pretentious is tiring, he thought.

He tried to think of happier things to clear his head and he remembered that the day after was Monday. He smiled to himself as he closed his eyes and slowly fell asleep.

Harry and Ron returned to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom only to find a small note from Hermione, telling them she was fine and she needed some alone time. They had no choice but to carry on with their day.

Hermione was not fine. She hid herself in one of the bathroom stalls and waited for the boys to leave. For once Moaning Myrtle was quiet, almost afraid to make any silly comments or childish laughter, and softly whispered, "They are gone," to the occupied stall. It was then that Hermione succumbed to her heartache, slid down to the floor and let her tears drop.

As the new year arrived and school started again, Hermione occupied herself with all sorts of things. She would ask the Professors for more tasks and unnecessarily overdid all her assignments. She would borrow just enough books to read in her dormitory so as to avoid going to the library as much as possible.

She didn't want to see Draco. She didn't know what to think of him, and she didn't want to drown herself in thoughts of him. The library was no longer her escape, because all she could feel was disappointment and heartbreak when she stepped foot into the library.

There were times when she had no choice but to read the books in the library. She tried to sit as close to the exit as possible and was ready to leave when necessary. She couldn't fully concentrate, always on high alert if he was there or not. When the familiar scent of cedarwood hit her palate, she fled. God, she even knew what he smelled like.

She thought he finally looked past her blood. She thought things between them were better. She thought he enjoyed their time together. She didn't want to believe the words she heard, but every word he spoke about her on Christmas seared her soul. That was the worst Christmas she ever had. She sometimes wondered if he ever showed up the next day in the library. If he would sit casually next to her and give her a hint of a smile, even after all his mean bashing and ill curses. He really excelled in masking his true feelings, she would give him that much.

She knew he had been looking for her, for better or for worse. She didn't think she was in any sort of danger. Again, if he aimed to hurt her, physically, he could've done so on many occasions. But mentally, she was all over the place.

Deep down she knew she couldn't run from him forever, at least not from the library. She needed her space, her hobby. She just wished that by giving herself enough time, the memories would stop haunting her.

Lucky for her, there was a more pressing matter that concerned her and her friends diverting her complete attention.

It was creepy enough when Harry said he could hear things, but a diary that wrote back was even more disturbing. There were numerous times that Hermione suggested handing the diary over to the professors, but when Harry told them that the diary had revealed that the person who opened the Chamber of Secrets in the first place was Hagrid, she simply fell into silence. They didn't believe Hagrid would do such a thing, and so they decided not to say a word unless another attack happened again.

Intense footsteps filled the hallway as two boys dashed towards the Hospital Wing.

Harry was supposed to play in the Quidditch Game against the Hufflepuffs half an hour ago. Before Madam Hooch could even release the Quidditch balls, Professor McGonagall came half-running across the pitch to announce the cancellation of the match, along with the implementation of a new curfew. Just before Harry left the Quidditch field with his teammates, Professor McGonagall had asked him and Ron to visit the Hospital Wing once he changed back into his school robes, with the accompaniment of Madam Hooch.

Seeing Professor McGonagall's worried expression, they reckoned there was another attack. But it wasn't any random attack. Otherwise, they would be sent to their dormitory along with the other students. A terrible thought came to mind.

During breakfast, Harry heard the voice again and for some reason, Hermione suddenly said she understood something and ran off to the library. They hadn't seen her since. He hurriedly returned to his dormitory to get change and informed Ron the news.

"Mister Malfoy," said Professor McGonagall as she entered the Hospital Wing and saw the slender boy with blond hair.

Draco didn't answer. He didn't want to be the one who broke the silence when the person in front of him was lying utterly still.

"There's a new curfew implemented. I strongly advise you to return to your dormitory now. Professor Snape will accompany you," she explained. Professor Snape gently tapped Draco's shoulder but he didn't move. There was so much going through his mind and he didn't know how to process it all. All he knew was that he wished this was all just a prank and the figure in bed would wake up.

"Mister Malfoy, I understand that it is hard to take such incidents in. As much as we appreciate your discovery of the attack and informing us about the victim, her friends are coming soon, and you and I both know it will not be pretty if they see you here," said Professor McGonagall, finally catching Draco's attention. She could almost see the resentment in his eyes.

"I know you mean well, but I think we can all agree that arguments could do nothing but harm here, especially in front of Miss Granger."

Draco took a deep breath and breathed out. He could still feel his breath shaking against his racing heart. He tried to calm down as much as possible before moving himself towards the exit without saying a word.

"I was so worried about you Draco! Where have you been?" Pansy rushed to Draco when he entered the Slytherin common room. She tried to reach for his arm but Draco shoved her hands away immediately.

"Leave me alone," he said coldly before heading up to his room and shutting the door with a loud bang.

He lay on his bed with his eyes closed. His memory kept playing in his head over and over again.

Ever since Hermione stopped going to the library corner, Draco had been on the edge all the time. At first, he thought she was too busy to go to the library, but soon he realised he was wrong. She would take the seat right next to the library door with her back facing their secret corner, and immediately take off when he was close by.

She was avoiding him, and he didn't know why.

The Great Hall was the only place left where Draco could see Hermione. He often found himself unintentionally looking for her in the dining hall. He wouldn't stare for more than ten seconds, afraid that if she found him staring, she would run away.

Same thing happened today at breakfast. He found her happily chatting with her friends at Gryffindor's table. Even though they were two rows apart, he could still see how her eyes suddenly lit up. It was the same look she had when she was filled with curiosity and determination to search for answers. He watched her sprint away from the dining hall right before her best friend's Quidditch Game.

As time went by, Draco started to get an uneasy feeling. It didn't make sense for Hermione to leave so abruptly before such an important event. The more he thought about it, the more uncomfortable he felt.

Students and professors made their way to the Quidditch field soon after breakfast. Draco and his friends were discussing the game in excitement when he noticed Ron Weasley and his friends ahead of them.

But Hermione wasn't there.

A sinking feeling hit him about her missing. Draco made a quick excuse to his friends and went back into the castle to find her.

He was certain that she was heading towards the library, and so he hurried over there. The school was empty and quiet. He didn't pay much attention to his surroundings until he almost slipped and fell.

The stairs were flooding and the first floor was drenched in water, same as the night when Mrs Norris was discovered. The library was just around the corner. Terror immediately ran through his veins.

No, not Granger.

He rushed down the stairs and made a sharp turn around the corner.

There she was, Hermione Granger, a few feet away from him, standing alone in an awkward posture with her back facing Draco.

"Oh hey, Granger. There you are."

Draco pretended to sound surprised as he caught his breath. He waited for a few seconds, but there was no response.

"Didn't expect to see you here… I think I left my quill at the library and I'm going to grab it... You know, the game will start soon. If you don't hurry, you might miss out on watching your sodding friend Potter…"

Draco frantically searched for his words as he slowly approached her. He spat out nonsense without putting a break in between words, pretending that his nonstop speaking was the cause of her silent treatment.

He stopped all at once when they were at an arm's length apart. The air felt thin as his breathing became more difficult. He took a deep breath, and reached for her shoulder while taking a step closer.

"Granger…?"

Just like an unstable statue, her body tipped backwards at the slightest touch. Draco caught her immediately in his arms.

Her whole body was stiffened and cold, sending shivers to his body wherever their skin touched. Her eyes were wide open and the shock she experienced was still visible, but Draco could no longer see the usual sparks in her.

…

Knock, knock!

Someone was knocking at the door, breaking him out of his nightmare.

"Sod off!" Draco shouted while covering his eyes with his arm.

He didn't cry. He would never cry for someone whom he only knew for less than two years. Especially not for someone he shouldn't be tolerating.

He just didn't want to see anyone, or let anyone see how broken he was.

"It's just us," Blaise's voice came through as he gently opened the door, followed by Theo. "The others are not here. They are too dim-witted to even notice."

Blaise was referring to Crabbe and Goyle. Draco was instantly relieved knowing that the two tag-alongs were not here.

Blaise's mother was a well-known 'Black Widow', and so even pureblood families rarely got in touch with her. As for Theo, despite being the heir of the Nott Family, he had been on a non-speaking term with his father since his mother passed away. Because of their family issues, they were not obligated to report anything to Draco's father. More importantly, they never struck him as pure-blood supremacists, making them the only two friends whom he could openly share his true feelings with.

Theo sat on the edge of his bed, which was next to Draco's, while Blaise leaned against the bedpost.

"You wanna talk about it?" asked Theo.

Draco wanted to get his feelings out but didn't know what to say.

He recalled how he abandoned her lifeless body on the ground and ran to find help. He wished he could carry her to the Hospital Wing, but he was afraid that he would break her fragile frame. It was almost as if seeing someone die in front of him. The feeling of her life slipping away in his arms haunted him.

Seeing that Draco was not in the mood to share, Theo and Blaise could only discuss the current situation, hoping it would open Draco up. "The school has cancelled today's match, and put up a very serious curfew."

"We heard that two muggle-borns were attacked and petrified. No wonder why Professor McGonagall looked so dreadful."

"We were worried for you, mate. Even if you're not a muggle-born, there's a bloody monster lurking in our school."

Draco never cared much about the Chamber of Secrets or its monstrous terror. He remembered seeing his father slip something into the youngest Weasley's basket when they met in Flourish and Blotts. Knowing the long-lasting rivalry and hatred between the two families, it was definitely not a welcoming gift. The more he thought about it, the more he suspected the possible involvement of his father.

Draco had heard a few rumours about his father every now and then. Mother was never pleased when he went out at night with wizards under dark capes. He had asked her several times about his father's history but she would always say it was better for him to know less. Of course, Draco had his way of looking for the answer he wanted. When he realised the man of the house was once charged with war crimes, he didn't know what to think of his father. He had never seen his father's forearm. He always wore long sleeves, no matter the weather. Even though his father was deemed not guilty, Draco believed his father was not as innocent as he claimed to be.

Should he be worried? Or should he be proud of his father? Draco couldn't decide, and so he always turned a blind eye to whatever his father did.

But when someone he knew became the victim of something his father might have caused, he realised it hurt even more. The truth hit him hard like a blow to his head.

"She was right there," Draco said dryly, with a lump in his throat.

"Who's where?" the boys asked with their brows furrowed up.

"One of the victims." Draco didn't want to name names, even though he knew they would find out the truth eventually. He didn't want them asking questions, at least for now.

He clutched at the tiny mirror in his palm. "I saw her freeze and fall. I held her but there was no life, like she died in my arms."