"No, Draco is not in the common room." Pansy Parkinson eyed Hermione warily, a look of offence on her face.
"A Gryffindor! A Muggle-born! What could she possibly want, turning up in the Slytherin common room outside of lessons?"
For Merlin's sake, if it were not for this insufferable know-it-all claiming it was something important concerning Draco, she would not have bothered with her at all!
Just look at that unruly hair, all messy and dishevelled!
Pansy touched her own neatly styled bob and felt she really ought not to be speaking to a girl with so little regard for her appearance... it was beneath her, was it not?
"It is nothing... it is about my studies..." Hermione said, her eyes darting about, preparing to make her escape.
"Hey, wait! I have not given you leave to go yet!" Pansy called after her, asking imperiously, "I have been meaning to ask you this for some time! What is that snake ring on your hand? Why would a Gryffindor like you wear such a thing? Did Draco give it to you..."
"It is only a gift," Hermione said, flustered. "I really am in rather a hurry, I have to go and find him..."
"Hey! Wait a moment..." Pansy meant to press her further, to find out just what her relationship with Draco really was... this hardly seemed like an ordinary study partnership!
Unexpectedly, this dishevelled Gryffindor Muggle-born slipped away as neatly as an eel, vanishing in the blink of an eye.
"Use her, then cast her aside, is this what are you doing....?" Pansy scowled at the empty air before her, deeply resentful.
In the middle of the night, Hermione ran up the Astronomy Tower, quite out of breath, and at last found Draco.
He was huddled in the narrow space beneath the tower, like some lost child, his long legs drawn up into a pitiful ball, his arms wrapped round his knees, his eyes blank and helpless.
She had never seen him like this before.
She was far more used to his languid, easy manner, one that gave off nobility and arrogance in equal measure.
Hermione had long known there were many masks concealing that perfectly handsome face.
Most of the time, he was calm and self-assured, as if everything lay within his control and nothing could ever stump him; he was indifferent to people who did not interest him, sometimes to the point of iciness; but when he was with her, he was courteous, considerate, and gentle...
But today, on the Astronomy Tower, he had cast off every glittering mask, and opened the exquisite shell she had so long wished to see inside, revealing a startlingly weak, even cowardly, heart that she had never once glimpsed before.
Hermione was furious with him for having left so rudely, without so much as a word, wasting so much of her time searching for him. All her revision plans had had to be set aside, all for the sake of finding a friend who had vanished somewhere in Hogwarts!
But she could not simply leave him. He had left looking so wretched and distraught, as though something had wounded him deeply.
All the brightness had drained from his clear grey eyes, and his pitiful state left her deeply uneasy.
She had searched almost every place in Hogwarts where he might have gone, but had found no trace of him.
She had even gone so far as to plead with Pansy Parkinson, that haughty girl who always looked down on Muggle-borns.
If Parkinson had not happened to be there, she had even been considering slipping into Professor Snape's office for some Polyjuice Potion, and recklessly making another attempt at the Slytherin common room!
She had been so worried! She had very nearly been driven to distraction by this irresponsible, runaway boy!
It was already past curfew, and yet here she was, running about breaking school rules, risking fifty points... all for whom? For this ordinary friend from another House! Hermione thought, cross with herself.
However, the moment she saw him, her heart felt as though it had been pierced through.
All her irritation and anger together could not compare to the sight of him, so wretched and downcast.
At that moment, she had only one thought in her mind: to see him well again.
"Draco..." She breathed a sigh of relief, walked slowly over, knelt down before him, and gazed at him intently. "Draco, what is wrong? Do not frighten me like this..."
He roused from his thoughts, looked sadly at the girl before him, and murmured, "Hermione..."
"It is me. I am here." She met his gaze, her hand timidly touching the back of his, and was startled to find it icy cold, even on a warm June night.
"Have you ever had this feeling..." he said softly, his eyes seeming to look straight through hers into some far-off distance, "no matter how hard you try, no matter how much you scheme, so many things seem to follow some predetermined course, regardless of anyone's wishes..."
"Whatever makes you think such a thing?" Hermione asked curiously, trying to warm the back of his hand between hers. "Must you always look at things so pessimistically?"
Pessimistically? No, this is simply reality. Draco's lips curled into a bitter smile.
He seemed crushed beneath some invisible weight. He buried his face in his knees, unwilling to face this painful life, this dark reality, showing Hermione, for the very first time, his helplessness, his sorrow, his brokenness.
A sudden, sharp pang of heartache rose in Hermione's chest.
What was wrong with him? He had never been this vulnerable, not even facing a werewolf.
She could not help but reach out and stroke his soft, platinum blonde hair, trying to comfort him.
Ordinarily, she might have teased him, telling him his hair felt lovely. But none of that mattered now. She only worried for him, worried over whatever it was that frightened him so.
She softened her tone and said gently, "Draco, what is wrong? What is troubling you? Tell me, will you?"
"The Dark Lord... he has escaped." His words came muffled and heavy from between his knees.
"I already know. What of it?" she said, somewhat bewildered.
What direct bearing could this possibly have on Draco?
Was this not something for Harry to worry over far more than him? Even Harry himself had not seemed nearly so despondent.
"What of it?" He looked up at her, a mocking smile on his lips, his face pale. "It means it is all over, all my efforts have come to nothing. He will kill me."
"Whatever makes you think that?" Hermione asked, puzzled. "He has no reason to target you. You... you are a pure-blood wizard..."
After a long pause, she finally produced a reason that would ordinarily have made her scoff, purely to comfort him.
"Was Harry's father not from a pure-blood family too? Beside him, being pure-blood means nothing at all." Draco laughed bitterly.
"But your father is..." Hermione hesitated, unsure whether to go on. She remembered Ron and Hagrid both saying, more than once, that Draco's father had once supported Voldemort.
"A Death Eater?" he said sorrowfully, his grey eyes brimming with tears, as though rain were falling.
"The Dark Lord shows no mercy to anyone, least of all those who betray him... I have already gone too far down this road... I can no longer bear the price of failure..."
Hermione had never felt so useless.
She said urgently, "Do not cry, I can help you. You have so many friends. Do not cry, Draco..."
She pulled out a pale grey handkerchief, the very one Draco had once left with her when he had comforted her.
She tried to wipe away his tears, but Draco caught her hand.
"Hermione... Hermione..." he murmured her name, looking at her intently, seemingly unsure what to do with her.
He gazed at her hungrily, like someone dying of thirst gazing at a distant oasis.
He held her hand tightly, as though he could not bear to let go.
In the end, Draco released her hand.
A flicker of pain crossed his pale, rigid face as he said, slowly and with great difficulty, "While there is still time... please... leave me... do not... do not come near me."
Hermione was stunned. She looked into his eyes in surprise.
He had asked her to leave, in words, but Hermione felt certain his eyes were clearly begging her to stay.
Perhaps she was reading too much into it. Or perhaps there was no feeling in his eyes at all.
Perhaps, in truth, she had never once meant to leave him. Never.
She could not possibly leave now.
"What nonsense is this? Do you think so little of me?" Hermione glared at him, her face flushed.
"Do you truly believe I am nothing more than some selfish coward, who runs from danger and abandons her friends?"
He had walked beside her, protected her; and now, faced with his own danger, he honestly believed she could simply walk away like that?
Draco lowered his head, not daring to look at her.