AN: Here's the next one. This is probably the very worst of the bullying for a while there. It will likely be obvious why I did what I did by the end of next chapter in part, but a lot of you might be able to put two and two together here.

Chapter 5: The Death of Harry Potter

Draco Malfoy scowled as he read through his mother's letter. Her writings as of late had been extremely short at best. He had been hoping to convince her that he had been traumatized from Halloween and needed Father to buy him the latest Nimbus to help ease his anxiety, but so far she did not take the bait. Instead, she just told him to keep his chin up and she'd see him soon for Yule.

Daphne Greengrass rolled her eyes, "Mummy didn't send you the muffins you wanted, Malfoy?"

Ugh, insufferable bint. If she wasn't a pureblood in his house, he'd say she was almost as bad as Granger.

Thinking of Granger made him want to laugh. The mudblood was certainly learning her lesson. Her house had all but rejected her and taken her hair. Though admittedly she looked better now than she had been with that nasty bush on her head.

"Don't be an unbecoming shrew, Greengrass." He finally stated after trying to come up with something to insult the blonde.

Daphne rolled her blue eyes as she helped herself to some toast before saying in a lower voice, "Surely, you know your mother's been overwhelmed lately with everything that has been going on."

"Everything that's been going on?" He asked.

Daphne smirked, "The troll incident, genius. You know, the one that killed Ronald Weasley."

Oh, yes. That. The very thing he had been hoping to use to get a new broomstick.

The list was going around to see who was staying home at the castle over the holidays. Draco was interested in which poor souls would be left here. He'd say the Weasleys, but since the youngest one got smashed into bits, he bet their sow of a mother would likely want all of them to come home. Dumbledore would likely pay for it too since he probably didn't want to get sued.

Draco still grimaced at the memorial service he was forced to attend for the boy. It was pathetic. Everyone had been forced to attend, except Potter who was still in the hospital.

Precious Potter.

No one had said anything about his condition since the night he and Weasley were found. There was a rumor that he died in the infirmary, but Pomfrey was somehow able to zap him back to the land of the living.

You'd think having Potter almost die would have Dumbledore sacked, but he was still here. Though he had noticed the governors, including his father, had been in and out of the school more. There were even rumors that Susan Bones' aunt was going to be sending aurors here investigate as well.

His father had been tight lipped when he asked questions about what was going on. Instead, all he wanted to talk about was for him to improve his History of Magic grade. Apparently, the A he currently had was not acceptable for Malfoys.

He looked up when he heard Granger of all people was staying here over the holidays…he thought she hated it here.

There was something so off about that girl.

"You're obsessed." Daphne hissed noticing he was staring at Granger.

"Jealous?"

"More like sorry for her."

"She is rather sorry looking, isn't she?" Pansy Parkinson said not understanding that Daphne's insult was directed towards Draco not Granger.

He decided though to take Pansy's stupidity as the gift it was, "The bald head is at least an improvement."

Daphne shook her head at the two of them while he engaged Pansy. She might've been a bit annoying, but at least she wasn't a bitch like Greengrass was.

Besides, Granger was such an easy target, especially now since there was no Potter and Weasley.

He was thinking this just as the news broke.

He heard a shriek, and it only took a moment to realize what was going on when a copy of the Daily Prophet landed on the table: "Boy Who Lived Dies".

Dead.

He was the bloody Boy Who Lived, yet had succumbed to his injuries at St. Mungo's. Rita Skeeter has rather an exhausted list of maladies listed about his archnemesis and implied that those muggles he lived with had hurt him as well.

Honestly, Draco didn't know how he felt. He knew a part of him should be celebrating. Potter was his archrival, but at the same time he felt sort of empty. Queasy almost. He hadn't felt this way when Weasley died.

All the houses were led back to their common rooms after the news broke. Classes were cancelled for the day. They had done the same thing with Weasley, but this time it was different. No one had mourned Weasley—at least in Slytherin—when he died—but Potter.

It was weird.

No one knew what to say. Some of his classmates went up to their room to study or get rest. Playing games just seemed so wrong. Potter had been the last of his house. The house wasn't a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, but it was still an old pureblood family. Older than the Malfoys, but not the Blacks.

Professor Snape wasn't much help either. He had gone up to his quarters and told the head prefect that he wasn't to be bothered unless it was a life and death emergency. Draco knew it probably had to deal with Potter's mother. He had overheard his Father and Snape once talking about an apparent thing he had for her.

Disgusting.

Who would fall in love with a mudblood?

His thoughts inwardly flashed to Granger, who was what he usually associated mudbloods with, though he had heard that Potter's mother had been a bit of a looker in her day—so not like Granger.

The silence was getting to him. He needed some space. No one had said they had to stay there, and he had several hours to go before curfew. He was debating about whether going to the library to work on his stupid History of Magic essay, or to see if maybe he could grab a broom and do laps around the quidditch pitch when he ran into the mudblood.

She looked awful—what else was new? But it wasn't the typical awfulness. There was something wrong. Really wrong.

"Are you alright?" He found himself asking. He didn't know why. He could care less about what happened to Granger. He had watched Gryffindor's rejection of her for the past month or so with complete glee. He had called her Baldy for the past few weeks, until Snape cornered him and told him he was acting unbecoming. Which was code words for your mother will know about this if you don't cut this shit out.

And he knew Mother would've found his behavior unacceptable.

"Manners matter, Draco." She told him after the store clerk mentioned he had upset some mudblood that he later found out was Potter at Madam Malkin's.

"But it's a mudblood, Mother."

"That may be, but you are a Malfoy. You need to have class and tact."

Tact whatever that meant.

Oh, he knew what it meant not openly insulting anyone like he head been it was just…

She shook her head. "Not now, Malfoy. Please."

He then noticed she was shaking. "Granger, have you been outside?"

It was snowing heavily out there. Hence, why even consider writing his essay rather than flying. Her head and hands looked red. He glanced at her she wore no mittens and no hat and she looked all wet. She wasn't wearing a coat either.

What was wrong with her?

"I needed some air. I don't…I can't go back in there."

She meant the Gryffindor common room.

He heard the rumors.

"I need to talk to Professor Dumbledore. But I don't…with what's going on I don't know if he'll have time to talk to me."

Seeing Granger like this made him feel oddly sorry for the mudblood.

Now he was wondering, what was wrong with him?

Feeling sorry for a mudblood. For shame, Draco.

"What are you going to talk to him about?" He heard himself asking her.

"A resorting." She stated, "And don't worry, I know I'm not a fit candidate for Slytherin."

He laughed. "At least you know you're not good enough."

She rolled her eyes. Despite what he had heard some people say, they weren't actually that beady looking. Not at all really. He hadn't noticed how large they were with that bush of a mop she used to have on her head. And they were a nice warm brown color that sort of reminded him of cinnamon. They were probably her best feature, though there really wasn't that much to work with.

"I guess I should just be glad you're not cursing me. A rarity these days."

He never cursed or jinxed her that is. As much as he was tempted, it hadn't been warranted or worth the risk, but he knew others had. He had witnessed the Weasley twins in the hallway hitting her with a spell that made her teeth grow. He might had even laughed at it because she really did sort of look like a rat, especially with the longer teeth, but he never actually cursed her himself.

"It will be worse now." She said, "Not that I can go back there."

He looked at her.

"Somehow, they were able to change the password without Professor McGonagall knowing. I think it's because she left pretty much immediately after Harry's death was announced. Not that that matters. I've been excommunicated from the house." She said, "That's why I was outside. I just really had nowhere to go."

"Oh, they can do that?"

"Apparently. I think the head boy and girl can change the password. Percy's friends with them, I could see him getting them to do that."

That did sound like something Weasel's brother would do.

"I wanted to talk to Professor Dumbledore, but he's probably busy with Harry's death to talk right now. The password from the other week probably has changed too."

"I can keep you company.

She gave him a dubious look.

"I can't stand being in my dorm right now. People are too quiet. And I can't fly with all that snow and there's no way I could work on that stupid essay Binns assigned us."

"Suit yourself," Granger shrugged clearly unimpressed with his presence. "I'm not going to be working on that essay either, if you're thinking about copying me."

"Why would I copy you?" He said, "Didn't you get a Troll on our latest assignment?"

He noticed her body flinched when he mentioned the word " troll" and then she just nodded as they started walking. The silence got weird after a while so he asked her, "Why are you staying here rather than going home over the holidays? I thought you hated it here."

She looked down, "I was told I couldn't leave here until last week, and my parents had already made arrangements at that point to go skiing alone in Austria."

"What? They told you that you had to stay. They can't do that!"

"They can when it's your fault a student died." She said before correcting herself, "Two students died."

Of course, the troll. He had heard the rumors that Granger had decided to fight the stupid beast because she had read something about how to handle it. But to keep her here during the holidays?

"What happened that night? What really happened?"

She then explained how she had went to the girls lavatory that day to avoid Weasley. Apparently, he had got mad at her for being a know-it-all in Charms class and said as much to her face. Weasley admittedly did have a point there, but he wasn't going to tell that to the crying girl. She already looked broken why break her more, even if she was a mudblood.

And besides, he knew Mother would've said what Weasley had done was wrong and not proper pureblood behavior. Apparently, Potter had thought as much, since Granger indicated she thought he was the one that made Weasley come with him.

"There was no way Ronald would apologize, but Harry—" Hermione stated, "He was always at least nice to me."

He wasn't nice to me, Draco thought. Though Potter really hadn't been that bad. Yes, he insulted him but only after he had insulted him in Weasley. Truth be known, it was really Weasley he had hated.

And Weasley really had been at the source of most of their issues, except for Longbottom that one time. That stupid fat lump had earned him a detention with his head of house, and Potter had gotten a broom. Not that anyone ever saw him on it since he was now dead.

"I wasn't too nice to Potter." He stated.

She looked at him.

"I couldn't stand Weasley."

"You don't say." She finally responded.

"You couldn't stand him either."

"It's—he's dead, Malfoy. There's no use even discussing him at this point. I should've told the truth about why I was really in the bathroom, but I just couldn't do that to his family."

"So you make yourself look like you were glory seeking idiot instead."

"Well, I am a Gryffindor." She said insulting her own house. Though he didn't blame her. He'd be mad if he had been kicked out of Slytherin too. And really it wasn't an insult. As far as he was concerned, Gryffindors were glory seeking morons who apparently ate their own.

At least in Slytherin there was house unity. If anything because you'd never knew when a connection to a fellow snake might come in handy.

"I didn't want to go to the service. I left as soon as they allowed us to."

"His mother," She said as if reliving a bad memory, "She spoke to me that day. I think, I think , she's encouraging them."

"I imagine so." He had purposely done everything he could to avoid being around the Weasleys during the entire service. He hadn't even tried to catch Father because he knew he'd be consoling the idiot's parents. But he had heard about Molly Weasley's tirade afterwards. It was so typical of the blood traitor.

"I wonder if they'll have a service for Harry," Hermione mused before he could rant further about that Weasley woman.

"Probably," Draco said, though he wondered as well considering he had heard the Weasleys had practically demanded the memorial service. Potter had no one left but his muggle relatives who were likely going to be arrested for child abuse if what the Prophet had printed was remotely true.

"I'll at least be alright with attending that one."

He looked at her, "Do you need help with finding a place to stay till Dumbledore or someone can talk to you…."

"It's okay." She said, "The classroom is fine. And I….I don't have many things in the tower anyway. They took most of my stuff away and I haven't gotten new things yet. At least I have my wand now."

He gave her a weird look. "Is that why…"

He didn't know how to describe the things she was wearing. The half-month eaten skirt that seemed like it was two or three sizes too large, the stained sweater was at least three decades out of date.

"Yes," She said, "Somehow my house is gracious enough to grant me with clothes to wear, but not my own. I don't think they want to see me naked mercifully enough."

"Surely, there's more than the clothes off your back."

"At least I have my wand now…"

"What about your assignments?"

She bitterly laughed. "They snapped my quills a fortnight ago. Not that it matters"

"That's why you haven't done assignments in weeks? Because of them?"

"Partially," She said. "There are other reasons as well."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Knowing how to transform an orange into a banana is not going to keep you from turning into troll chow." She explained.

She had a point admittedly.

"You look shocked, Malfoy."

"You just used to be so…so…"

"Hardcore?" She asked. "Well, seeing two of your schoolmates smashed will change your prerogatives."

He nodded, "Are you…"

She shook her head. "Don't bother, Malfoy. I'll figure things out. You don't need to be sullied further by associating with a mudblood."

"Don't," He started to say

"Call myself that," Granger laughed. "I'll figure things out, Malfoy. Don't worry. You did your good deed for the day. And don't worry the Rat of Gryffindor won't squeal that you spent even five minutes with her."

She then turned around leaving him alone in the classroom. Making him feel oddly ashamed.

Albus Dumbledore could not believe the papers.

He had failed.

He failed the boy.

Failed James and Lily.

Failed everyone including himself.

He barely was able to hold it together when he read the article describing the injuries the boy had succumbed to. This was not what he wanted.

He had known Petunia was cruel, but Arabella had never thought Harry had ever been that severally injured. Between all the untreated and improper injuries he had from them and the troll, the poor boy never stood a chance.

And what about the prophecy?

It made him wonder about the theory he made so long ago about the boy's survival. It made him wonder about everything.

Was it possible the Longbottom child was the real person in the prophecy?

But he had never been marked by Tom. True, Tom's crazy followers had tortured his parents' to insanity, but that was after Tom himself had been defeated.

He grimaced still remembering the Lestranges and the Crouch boy at their trial. Bellatrix's laughter in particular still haunted him.

She had always been one of Tom's more vicious followers. He knew Tom had picked the woman out in particular for her legendary dueling skills. It was hard to imagine the once bright student that Filius had considered taking on as a protégé, had transformed into a deranged killer.

Much like it was hard to believe that Sirius Black had ended up betraying and killing his friends.

He was broken out of his thoughts by a knock on his door. It couldn't be Minerva, she had told him she needed to leave no sooner than the news got out.

He instantly granted her request. He wished he could leave too. Instead, he was making do with a nice glass of mead. He doubted he'd be leaving his quarters today. Lunch and dinner in the Great Hall he decided already were optional. He hadn't planned on going. He didn't expect most of the staff or students would either.

His visitor ended up being Severus.

"Is he really dead?" The man asked staring at Dumbledore with those cold dark eyes of his.

"Yes, it seems to be. I got the news the same way as you did."

"I failed," Severus said. "I failed her."

Her meaning Lily Potter.

"Severus…"

He didn't really know what to offer in terms of comfort because he had felt like they had all failed.

The boy was dead and Tom was still in the castle. He still hadn't figured out a way to expose him or had time considering he was still plotting how to smuggle out the stone at Christmas.

"I got there too late." Severus said. "I had to check that stupid trapped door."

Dumbledore shook his head, "Please don't assume that you could've saved him. Going through what ifs isn't going to help, my boy."

"There's nothing for me here Albus. We both know that."

It was true. The only reason Severus was here was to protect the boy. It had been the only reason he had helped the man in the first place.

"The job is still yours regardless of whether or not Harry's here." He said, "You're an asset to the school, Severus."

The man bitterly laughed. "We know I'm a terrible teacher."

It was true. He was awful, but the man was brilliant with Potions. Besides, he felt like he owed Severus something after all of this. He had proved his loyalty to Lily at least.

"You owe me nothing, Albus." He said as if he read his mind and for all he knew Severus very well could've. His shields were likely not in the best condition tonight.

"Be that as it may, you can stay here as long as you want."

"I'll finish the year." He stated.

Albus nodded. "If you need time…"

"Why would I need time, Albus? I hated the boy."

"Yes, but you loved her."

"Not loved. Love. I'll always love Lily. Always."

It was time to face the music.

Much as she'd like to just sleep in an empty classroom or the library, she knew it wasn't practical. She still couldn't see Professor Dumbledore, so she decided just to attempt to sneak back into the tower when people had headed back for dinner.

She had spent most of the rest of the day in the library trying to teach herself how to perform a disillusionment charm just so she'd be able to get in the common room and head to her room. It was a bit of a longshot, but the only option she had.

She felt she had done an okay job with the charm. Yes, she knew it was something that usually the upperclassmen learned, but she was able to get it to sort of work. At least no one noticed her when she tested it out in the library. Though there was hardly anyone there. She would just need to remember to reapply the charm occasionally.

All she had to do was get to the antechamber in the common room where Professor McGonagall had set up her temporary room.

She really wished Professor Dumbledore had been available to talk to. She knew and understood why because of Harry.

She didn't have a subscription to the newspaper, but it was all that anyone had talked about today. And it was the reason for her "excommunication" in the first place.

They had acted like she had destroyed their precious possession rather than the fact that one of their housemates died.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the sheer ridiculous of it, she'd tear her house badge on her robes if she could.

Ugh. Her robes.

When she had written to her parents about coming from the holidays, she hadn't mentioned she needed new things. She didn't even know how to tell them, so she was wearing the handouts that her classmates had graced her with after destroying her clothes. At least she knew about how to owl order now. Professor McGonagall had given her catalogues from some of the shops in Diagon Ally and explained how to fill out the order forms. All she needed was to get her parents to exchange some pounds into her account so she could order.

She felt so bad about them having to do that. It wasn't that they didn't have the money to pay for school things or anything like that it just didn't seem fair.

Like so many things these days, Hermione thought about Harry again.

His death hurt harder than Ron's. Maybe because he had never been mean to her like Ron had been, AND she was pretty sure it had been his idea to find her that stupid day.

He was attacked the same day his parents died. She knew he hadn't wanted to go the feast that evening. She should've just said something. Maybe they could've ate dinner in the common room together, and the whole troll incident could've been avoided.

Who was she kidding…Harry had never been her friend. He had just been decent to her a rarity these days.

It was sad that the nicest anyone had been to her since was Draco Malfoy which was something since up until today the blonde had called her all sorts of names.

Yet, he seemed almost sorry about it.

Not that he said he was sorry. He never would. Draco Malfoy wasn't the type of person who would say such things. He was still arrogant and cruel, but in comparison to her house mates he was at least decent—well, decent for him.

She wasn't stupid. She knew he'd probably resume ridiculing her and calling her Baldy again the next time she saw them.

She frowned as she felt her head—still mostly smooth unfortunately. Professor Snape had agreed with Madam Pomphrey assessment. It could be months before she had hair again and she was told it would likely look different.

She hoped this meant that maybe it wouldn't be as near as a mess or retain its mouse like color. She was probably hoping for too much.

Hermione had purposely avoided wearing hats though, since McGonagall made that stupid comment. It was just hair. And had hated her hair anyway. But she wished she would've had a hat today. If she had one.

Well, at least she wouldn't have to worry about disillusioning her hair, she thought as she put away the book as confident as she could be that she knew the charm. She didn't dare check anything out. Not since that first day in the tower when she found all her books destroyed. Some had their pages torn out, some were soaked with the most disgusting things that ended up causing boils on her hands, others were burned, while one had simply been thrown in the toilet.

All those books ruined. That made her want to cry.

However, what probably got her the most was when they destroyed the last sweater that nan had ever knitted her. Nan had given that to her only a few weeks before she had passed away. She had cherished that sweater.

They were horrible.

She really didn't know which one her housemates was the worst.

At least it had been sort of bearable since she saw Professor Dumbledore the other week. She had her own room now. It was not as big or luxurious as the main dorm, but she could actually sleep. It also helped she had her wand back now and at least could somewhat protect herself—or as much as a first year with only a couple months of magic training could do.

She finally found a couple of students that seemed like the were headed back to the tower. She followed them from a distance knowing that her charm would only hold for a couple of minutes at best.

If only she had an invisible cloak…she had read that the were probably the most useful technique at staying invisible. Especially for a first year whose magical core hadn't really developed much. If she was Professor Dumbledore, she'd have no problem doing the charm and it would probably be even better than most cloaks!

Reading about the charm reminded her how much she still loved learning things- just useful things.

It was time. She murmured the incantation and then quickly followed the fourth years that were in front of her past the Fat Lady.

She thought she had made it until she heard, "Well, well, well, looks like the little rat didn't learn she's not wanted."

She was about to attempt to fire a curse, only before she could a strange spell hit her and her wand flew out of her hand. Another curse soon hit her and she found herself having body spams before she began to change. It was excruciating. Sharp, jarring, pain. She felt like everything was growing bigger, but really she was growing smaller. Her body was contorting, twisting. She felt her teeth grow, but it was worse than before. They weren't only growing but adjusting to the new shape of her jaw. They felt like they fit her mouth even though she knew they shouldn't. They weren't shaped like people's teeth. She felt her nose growing longer somehow even though she was smaller. Then she felt something sprouting out from behind her like, like, a tail. A tail! And then she felt something like hair grow, but rather than just growing on her head it grew all over her. It wasn't hair. It was fur.

An then it just stopped. She was so small now…her vision it was different. Everything seemed blurry and she could smell, smell, smell, everything. She thought she smelt something delicious. Was it cheese? She was so hungry. She hadn't eaten since breakfast. She had tried to open her mouth only to find out she was squeaking.

Squeaking?

Whoever cast the spell started laughing at her. "Well, that's much better. Not that much of a difference though. Diffindo!"

She managed to mostly dodge it, but she felt something nick her tail? Tail? It was bleeding. She started screaming or tried to scream but only to realize she was squawking. She then tried to run only for another spell to hit her, this one at the tip of her ear. More blood. She had been lucky she hadn't been cut in half. She moved fast. Got to run. Got to save yourself. Get away from the mean humans.

But she wasn't running, she was scurrying.

She couldn't focus on that. Had to get away. Trapped. Had to live. They wanted to kill her. She let instinct take control even though she couldn't see well. She kept moving for what seemed like the longest time. She didn't know how long she had been scurrying, only that she had to get out of the tower. Had to save herself.

It wasn't until she had been distracted by the alluring smell of a stray piece of corn and she began nibbling on it that she realized that he had a brief realization that she was no longer human.

She didn't know what she was or where she was. Sad as it was, she felt safer here than she did even though everything was so big and blurry . She turned back to her corn…it was rather tasty and was so hungry. Who cared about losing those fifteen pounds anymore. She ate with gusto not carrying that the corn was trash. She let her instincts take over. And all human thoughts slipped away.

Because she'd much rather be an actual rat, than the rat of Gryffindor.

Chapter 6: Someone or multiple someones are exposed and Hogwarts is dealing with another crisis.