14. Last Christmas

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters, even the ones I ashamedly kill off. :P

Whenever Draco Malfoy woke up with his arms wrapped around a girl, it always meant one thing and one thing only: that he'd gotten lucky the night before.

Which was precisely the reason why he immediately began to panic when he opened his eyes on Christmas morning to find that the girl he was holding in his arms was Hermione Granger.

The thoughts all flooded into his head at once as he sat up. What had they done? Had there been drinking involved? Was she going to be pissed when she woke up and found herself in Draco Malfoy's bed? And oh, Merlin, what if they'd-

"Good morning," a pleasant voice spoke up next to him.

Draco looked down at Hermione, who was looking up at him with sparkling brown eyes and a warm smile. She had the look of sleep on her face, as though she'd just woken from a glorious dream. And somehow, even with her unruly hair strewn across her pillow and the sleepy look in her eyes, she was positively breathtaking.

"Morning," he mumbled, quickly looking away.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "You look…worried about something."

He glanced back down at her, amazed that the realization of their situation had not sunk in for her yet.

"Well, it's not every day I wake up next to the Head Girl, you know."

And there was the look – the look of a girl who was just starting to realize she had just woken up in a bed, next to a Slytherin. Surprisingly, though, that's as far as the look went. She did not appear disgusted, traumatized, confused or angry. In fact, she looked mildly amused.

"Wait," she said, "you don't think that we -" Suddenly, she began to giggle. "You think something happened between us! Don't you remember last night?"

Of course Draco remembered last night. She had come to his room feeling a bit nervous, and he had calmed her down by giving her the present he'd bought for her. And then they'd fallen asleep – nothing more. He was silly to have thought anything else had happened.

"Sure, I remember last night. I just – well, I just woke up and my brain hasn't started working yet. I had a momentary lapse of memory is all."

Hermione smiled and sat up next to him. "Oh. Well you looked absolutely terrified."

"No I didn't," Draco disagreed, shaking his head.

"You did!" Hermione exclaimed with a chuckle. "You really did. Like the possibility that something had happened between us scared you half to death." Her smile slowly faded as she stared down at her hands.

"No," Draco assured her. "I wasn't scared. At least not for the reason you're probably thinking."

"Oh yeah? What reason do you think I'm thinking?"

Draco shrugged. "I don't know. You're probably thinking I was scared because…because I believed I might have had intimate relations with a mudblood." He spoke the last word softly and with a flinch.

"Well," Hermione said. "Then I guess you were right – that was what I was thinking." She gave him a half smile.

Draco reached over and with one finger lifted her chin up so that she was looking him directly in the eye. "That's not what scared me," he assured her. "I just…I was worried for a second that…that I might have done something inappropriate last night, and…I was scared for a second that maybe I'd done something to hurt you – something that we both would have regretted."

Hermione blinked and took hold of the hand that was still placed under her chin. "Well you didn't do anything to hurt me last night. In fact, you helped me. A lot. And I certainly don't regret that." With a grin, she stood up from the bed and grabbed her music box from the nightstand.

"Merry Christmas, Draco."

"Merry Christmas…Hermione." Draco was beginning to like the sound of her name rolling off his tongue.

She smiled and turned to go, but stopped at the door and turned around. "Hey, what are you doing today?"

Draco thought about it for a second. "Well, it's Christmas. I thought maybe I would sleep all day and if the mood hits me, I might try eating a meal or two."

"How about dinner?" she blurted out.

"Dinner?" Draco asked curiously.

"Yes. Dinner. With me." She avoided making eye contact with him, as if she were nervous. "I mean, I know I turned you down last night, and if you don't want to have dinner with me tonight, I completely understand. It's just that I ended up spending the whole Christmas Eve feast last night thinking about how I would have rather been having dinner with you instead, and then earlier this morning when I was awake and you were still asleep, I was thinking about how I would love to spend Christmas evening with you. I mean, you were so sweet yesterday to invite me to have dinner with you, and I felt like a complete git -"

"Granger," Draco cut in, chuckling. He had never seen the girl talk so much at once before without taking a single breath. "If you're asking me to have dinner with you, the answer is yes."

Hermione's facial expression went from apprehensive to relieved in the matter of a split second. "Really?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," he replied. "I'll make the arrangements."

"No," she said. "Let me take care of everything. After all, I asked you to dinner, not vice versa."

"Yes, but I asked you first, last night. And even though you declined my offer, it should still be my responsibility."

"But you gave me this beautiful Christmas present," Hermione said, holding up her music box, "and I didn't get you anything. The least I can do is take care of dinner."

"Granger, I don't want to argue about this," Draco said with mock annoyance. "You go off and play with your little friends this morning, and later you come back here and be my dinner date. That can be your Christmas present to me. How about that?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Now go do whatever it is you do to get ready for a day with the Weasleys and Potter. You wouldn't want to keep them waiting. Not on Christmas."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'll see you later."

She was halfway out the door when Draco said, "Hey, Granger?"

"Yeah?" she said, turning around to face him.

"Are you feeling better this morning? About…well, you know…the whole Trelawney thing?"

Her smile faltered a bit. "Yeah, I am. In fact, I feel a bit foolish for being so weirded out by it."

"You don't have to feel foolish," Draco said, his voice taking a serious tone. He stood up from the bed and walked over to her. "And you don't have to be worried, either. There's no way in hell I would ever let anything happen to you."

Hermione stared up at him with a look of appreciation. "I believe you," she whispered. With a smile, she turned around and walked out the door.

Draco rolled his eyes at the house elf's stubbornness. While his loyalty to Potter - who was not even his master - was admirable, at the moment it wasn't very useful for Draco. Of course, he couldn't blame the elf for not wanting to help a Malfoy – he'd served the Malfoy family years ago and was treated quite poorly by Lucius. But still, he was surprised that house elves held grudges for that long.

"Look," he said, following the elf around the school's kitchen, where he'd gone soon after Hermione had gone into the bathroom to take a shower. He'd wanted their dinner that night to be special, and it wouldn't be if he cooked, seeing as though he had never had to cook for himself a day in his whole life. "I'm not just asking for me. Hermione Granger is going to be there. You'd be cooking for her, too. She's a friend to Harry Potter – a very good one."

Dobby stopped at the sound of Hermione's name. "Dobby likes Hermione Granger."

"Well…so does Draco," Draco said, not even realizing he was starting to speak like a house elf himself. "Hermione Granger is a special girl, and she deserves a special dinner, don't you agree? Normally, I wouldn't even ask you to do this, but I'm sure Hermione would love it if you did this for us." He knew that was only half true – while Hermione did like Dobby and other assorted house elves, she also hated the idea of forcing them to wait on humans hand and foot.

For good measure, he quickly added, "Harry Potter would love it if you did this for us."

The house elf stood before him, lost in thought – as if he was trying to decide whether or not Draco was for real. Finally, he said, "Draco Malfoy is sure Harry Potter would approve?"

"Oh, I'm sure. Harry Potter wants Hermione Granger to be happy."

"Then Dobby does this," the house elf said. "Dobby make dinner for Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy."

"Great," Draco said, relieved. He patted the house elf on the shoulder. "Thanks, Dobby. You're a lifesaver."

Dobby mumbled something under his breath, but Draco could not hear it on account of the fact he was already exiting the kitchen.

Feeling pleased with himself, Draco headed back to his common room, whistling the whole way. The day before, he had almost started to believe that maybe he was an Ebenezer Scrooge. But he was already enjoying this Christmas, even though it had only begun just a few hours ago, and he felt as though nothing could destroy the good mood he was in.

That is, until he arrived back to the common room.

The portrait smirked as soon as it caught sight of Draco, which instantly made him worry. It was obvious to anyone that the portrait was not one of Draco's biggest fans, and it seemed to take great pleasure in Draco's misfortunes.

"Why are you so happy?" he snapped to the knight.

"Oh, nothing," the portrait responded in a singsong voice. "It's Christmas, is all. 'Tis the season to be jolly."

Draco did not believe for one second that Christmas was the real reason for the knight's giddiness, and the moment the portrait hole opened up and he stepped inside, his disbelief was validated.

"Bloody hell," he muttered as he entered the common room, which was currently being occupied by two Weasleys, one Boy Wonder, one Loony Lovegood, and Granger.

"Malfoy!" Hermione greeted him in a cheery voice.

"Granger!" Draco responded with mock enthusiasm. He ignored the death glares coming from Harry and Ron. "I didn't know you had…guests. I'll take off."

He turned around to leave, but Hermione stopped him.

"No, you don't have to leave," she said. "We were just finishing up here, anyway. In fact, we were all about to leave. We're going down to Hogsmeade for a bit."

"Why don't you come with us?" Ginny suggested, with a hint of a smirk on her face.

Everyone glanced at Ginny in shock – mostly Harry, who looked absolutely appalled at the idea.

"That's a wonderful idea!" Hermione exclaimed, turning to Draco. "Why don't you join us? The more the merrier."

Ron snorted.

"Hermione," Harry began to protest.

But Hermione dismissed him with a simple wave of her hand and continued to stare at Draco with a hopeful look.

The thought of spending Christmas day with Granger's friends was enough to make Draco want to Avada Kedavra himself right there on the spot. On the other hand, the thought of spending Christmas day with Granger – even with her friends – more than made up for it. So before he had time to think it over and decide it was a bad idea, he said, "Sure, sounds like fun."

Ron narrowed his eyes at Draco. Harry grumbled something unintelligible. Ginny gave a satisfactory grin. Luna stared off into space. Hermione just smiled warmly at him and said, "Most excellent."

When they entered the pub, Hermione turned to her friends and said, "You guys order the drinks. Malfoy and I will go find a table."

Draco raised his eyebrows at her, while everyone else looked at her as if she'd gone mad. Since when did Hermione Granger go anywhere alone with Draco Malfoy? He couldn't help but smirk at how shocked they all seemed.

Grabbing his arm, Hermione began leading him over to the table farthest away from the bar. "So how is your Christmas so far?"

"It's just wonderful," he replied dryly. "It's been a day full of sugar plums and joy."

Hermione frowned at him as they took a seat at the table. "I didn't like the idea of you being alone today."

"Really? And why is that?"

She shrugged. "No one should be alone on Christmas. And besides -" She glanced over her shoulder, making sure the rest of the gang was still out of earshot. "It's more fun hanging out with you than with them."

Draco chuckled. That was like music to his ears. "Why? What happened?"

"Nothing, really. Ginny's still being a you-know-what to me. Harry and Ron are still acting kind of weird around me. The only one I don't feel uncomfortable around at all is Luna, but she's in her own little world most of the time. So…I guess in a way, you could say I'm feeling a bit lonely myself today. Which is why I'm glad you decided to join us."

"Well then I'm glad I did, too," Draco said. A smile began to play at his lips, but immediately vanished as soon as he saw the rest of Hermione's friends coming to join them.

"It sure is a beautiful day out, isn't it?" Ginny asked, taking a seat as far away from Hermione as possible.

But nobody was really interested in talking about the weather – particularly Harry, who was looking quite grumpy at the moment. So they sat in complete, uncomfortable silence for what seemed to Draco like an eternity. Already, he regretted having joined them. His presence sure wasn't helping Hermione mend fences with her best friends.

"I'm going to head out," he spoke up suddenly, pushing his chair back away from the table. "I've got…some things to do."

"No," Hermione protested, reaching out and grabbing his hand. "Please – stay."

"What the hell is wrong with you, Hermione?" Harry snapped. "Let the stupid git leave if he wants to."

Hermione glared at Harry. "Harry, don't be rude."

"Rude!" Harry spat. "You're calling me rude? You're sitting next to Draco Malfoy, Hermione. If you want to talk about rude, avert your attention to him."

"He has done nothing wrong today, Harry. In fact, he's been a perfect gentleman. I'd say you're the stupid git here."

Harry's jaw dropped, along with everyone else's – including Draco's.

"Why are you defending him, Hermione?" asked Harry. His cheeks had turned a deep shade of red from what Draco could only guess was anger.

"Why are you getting so worked up about it?" Ginny said, turning to face Harry. "Hermione's right – Malfoy has done nothing wrong. Why are you overreacting?"

"I'm not overreacting!" Harry exclaimed. "We all know what Malfoy is capable of. We all know how evil he is."

"Hey," Draco said defensively. He didn't appreciate being called evil – no matter how much it used to be true.

Harry ignored him. "Yet Hermione is pleading with him not to leave. And she has his hand on his, and he's not so much as flinching at the fact he's being touched by a mudblood." He narrowed his eyes at Hermione and Draco. "What's going on between you two?"

"N-nothing," Hermione stammered. "Draco and I are just-"

"Oh. It's Draco now, is it?" Harry shook his head in disbelief. "That's just bloody wonderful, Hermione. Fraternizing with the enemy!"

"Calm down, Harry," Ginny hissed. "Hermione is allowed to be friends with whomever she pleases."

"Yeah, right," Harry grumbled. "If friends are all they are." He glared over at them once more.

Draco couldn't help but be amused at Potter's little outburst. It certainly had been uncalled for, so the reason for his reaction must have run a lot deeper. Perhaps the thought of Hermione being more than friends with Draco – or anyone, for that matter – was a little too much for him to handle. Perhaps Potter was a little jealous.

Apparently, that's exactly what Ginny thought. Looking positively livid, she said, "Harry Potter, you're jealous!"

Harry looked at her in shock. "I most certainly am not! Why in the bloody hell would I ever be jealous of Malfoy?"

"Oh, I don't know," Ginny replied. "Maybe because Hermione has yet to let go of his hand."

Both Draco and Hermione glanced down at their joined hands. Neither one had even noticed that Hermione still had a firm grip on his hand – nobody but Ginny, that is. Quickly, they let go of each other. Hermione began blushing and looked somewhat ashamed as she directed her gaze to the floor.

"What?" Harry was saying. "I don't – why would that – I'm not -"

"You are, Harry," Ginny said sadly. However, she glanced over at Hermione with a look of spite. "You know what? I think I'm just going to head back to school. Suddenly, I'm not feeling so well." She pushed back her chair, turned on her heel and headed for the pub's exit.

Surprisingly, Harry made no effort to follow her. But Hermione did.

"Ginny! Wait!" she called after her. When the redhead neither turned around nor stopped, Hermione got up from the table and ran after her.

Draco shook his head and smirked. "Way to go, Potter. Way to make your girlfriend feel loved."

Harry glowered at him. "Sod off, Malfoy." And with that, he too stood up and headed for the door.

"What a lovely idea this was," Draco said sarcastically.

Ron glowered at him. "Is this why you came, Malfoy? To cause trouble?"

Draco snorted. "It doesn't look like any of you need me in order to cause trouble. Besides, it's not my fault your best mate doesn't know what he wants."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that Harry is in love with two girls, but he does not know who he loves more," Luna replied dreamily.

"What?" Ron said incredulously. "That's just absurd, Luna."

Draco frowned. That was exactly what he'd been hinting at, but hearing the words spoken by Luna struck a nerve. What if that were true? What if Harry Potter had been in love with Hermione Granger all along, but had just recently come to the realization? What would that mean for Ginny and Draco? And what would it mean to Hermione, who obviously was still in love with him? Draco didn't want to find out. He had to tell Hermione how he felt, and he needed to do it before Harry had a chance to reveal his feelings. Quickly, he chased Harry out of the pub, followed closely by Ron and Luna.

Once Draco was outside, he stopped. Ginny and Hermione were quite a distance away from the Three Broomsticks, out of earshot, and Draco could see they were having a heated argument. He wished he could hear exactly what they were saying, but he pretty much knew what they were arguing about, so it didn't really matter.

He watched as Harry made his way over to the girls. He said something to Ginny and then pulled her in for a hug, but she quickly pushed him away.

"Oh boy," Ron muttered behind him. "Looks like Gin is mad at Harry. I'd better go have a talk with her. She holds grudges for the longest time."

"Yeah, well talk her out of being angry at Granger, while you're at it," Draco said, but if Ron heard him, he didn't acknowledge it.

"You're in love with Hermione," Luna said in a singsong voice. "And Hermione is in love with Harry, who is in love with both Ginny and Hermione. This could get awfully complicated." She shrugged and followed Ron.

Great – "Looney" Lovegood was perceptive enough to pick up on Draco's feelings for Hermione, which meant that the feelings she had picked up from Harry must really be there. Wonderful, Draco thought. All it would take was a confession of feelings from Harry, and Hermione would be his forever. There was no way Draco was about to let that happen. So he followed Ron and Luna over to Harry, Ginny and Hermione. He had not been looking forward to doing this, but if anyone was going to confess feelings, he was going to have to do it first, if he wanted to stand any sort of chance at winning her heart at all.

"Granger," he called over to her as he approached.

She looked over at him with a frown – but one he knew was not directed at him. Whatever Ginny had said to her had obviously really upset her.

"Can I talk to you?" he continued. "Alone?"

Hermione nodded and took a step toward him, but quickly Harry threw himself between them, blocking her from getting any closer to Draco.

"Move it, Potter," Draco demanded.

"Make me," Harry growled. For such a juvenile response, he sounded dead serious.

"Fine." Draco had played nice all day, out of respect for Hermione, but enough was enough. So, he reached out, grabbed a hold of Harry's shirt and shoved him aside.

Hermione glanced at him disapprovingly. "Malfoy, don't."

But it wasn't Draco she should have been scolding, for only a few seconds later, Harry came at him with his fist, connecting it firmly with his jaw.

"Harry!" Hermione screeched, reaching out to restrain him, but he brushed her off.

"Sonofabitch!" Draco snarled, spitting out a small bit of blood. Without thinking, he swung at Harry, hitting him in pretty much the same spot Harry had hit him.

From there, it escalated into a full-blown fistfight, complete with Ron cheering them on – or, more accurately, cheering Harry on. Meanwhile, Ginny, Hermione and Luna looked on in horror, with Ginny occasionally yelling out for Harry to stop. But neither boy paid any attention to anyone else. All they really cared about was wasting each other. And whoever won would receive a chance at Hermione's heart.

But everyone was too caught up in the moment to notice anything else. Draco was too intent on beating Potter senseless to see it happening. But it all happened so quickly; nobody would have had any time to react, even if they had known it was happening. One moment, Draco and Harry were fighting, and then the next moment Hermione was screaming, "Draco!" And not because she wanted the fighting to stop.

Detecting the unbridled fear in her voice, Draco instinctively let go of his hold on Harry and spun around to see Hermione, now a few feet away from the group, being restrained by a large, dark, hooded figure – his arm held firmly around her neck as she tried desperately to pry it off.

"Hermione!" Draco, Harry and Ron all cried simultaneously.

Draco tried to lunge forward, but quickly realized that he couldn't move. "What the hell," he muttered, glancing down at his feet, which appeared to be stuck to the ground. He glanced up at everyone else, who seemed to be experiencing the same problem.

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed. "I can't move!"

The ominous figure chuckled. "You're not alone, young man. None of your friends can move, either. I've made sure of that."

The man's voice was deep and raspy. Draco listened carefully, hoping to recognize it – but he didn't. And he certainly could not see the man's face, as it was hidden well inside his hood.

Simultaneously, Harry and Draco reached into their back pockets to retrieve their wands, but the hooded man was too quick for them. "Expelliarmus!" he bellowed, and every single one of their wands – even Ron's, Ginny's and Luna's – flew away and landed a few yards away.

"Who are you?" Harry demanded.

The hooded figure tightened his grip on Hermione and replied, "That is of little or no importance to you at all."

"The hell it isn't," Draco hissed. "Now, let the girl go."

The man threw back his head and let out a hearty laugh. "And why would I want to do that, young Malfoy?"

Draco balked at the sound of his name escaping the man's lips. Who was this person, and how did he know his name? "Do I know you?"

"You've met me. Though, when you were very young; I doubt you would remember me. I am an old friend of your father's. Or at least, I was, until he was tragically killed last year. Such a shame."

As the man talked, Draco made eye contact with Hermione, who was still struggling – but to no avail – to escape the man's grasp. He nodded to her reassuringly, as if to say everything was going to be alright. She just stared back at him with wide, frightened eyes.

"So there I was," the man said suddenly, "just passing through, and I see this lovely group of friends spending Christmas afternoon together in a pub. It warmed my heart to see such a thing, and I thought to myself – what could I do to ruin this day for them?"

"Why would you want to do that?" Harry asked cautiously.

"Why not?" the man answered. "I was looking for something fun to do. And then I realized that Harry Potter was part of this lovely group of friends, and I knew right then and there that I wanted to make this a Christmas he would never forget." As the man struggled to keep Hermione in his grasp, the sleeve of his robe moved up a little ways to reveal a mark Draco was all too familiar with.

"You're a Death Eater," Draco muttered.

"Very observant of you, Draco. Yes, I am a Death Eater. And I have to admit that I have lied to you all: I was not just passing through. I knew you were all going to be here. In fact, I've been here waiting for you all day. I was a little worried as to how I was going to pull this off, though. I mean, being able to snag this darling here," he nodded toward Hermione, "without any interference. But it was just my luck – you all managed to distract yourselves just long enough for me to do what I had to do. I should be thanking you all for helping me."

Panic began to form in the pit of Draco's stomach. The direness of the situation was beginning to set in. This was a Death Eater they were dealing with - and not just any Death Eater, either, but apparently, one with a mission. And somewhere in the back of Draco's mind, the words of Trelawney's prediction were beginning to surface, sending chills down his spine.

"Listen," he said slowly. "Whatever reason you have for doing this, you do not need to involve Hermione."

"Oh, isn't that sweet?" the Death Eater said. "You're trying to save this poor mudblood's life. Somewhere, your father is turning in his grave."

"Malfoy's right," Harry said. "Obviously, whatever reason you have for being here has to do with me, so then deal with me – not Hermione."

The Death Eater chuckled. "You automatically assume everything has to do with you, don't you, Harry Potter?" He reached into his robe and pulled out an object that shone brightly in the sunlight. It took only one quick glance for Draco to figure out what it was: a large, silver dagger.

Hermione's eyes managed to widen even more at the sight, while Ron, Ginny and Luna gasped. Both Harry and Draco, however, managed to keep their cool.

"I know what you're thinking," the Death Eater continued. "You're thinking that the Dark Lord has sent me with some sort of a message, or to teach Harry Potter a lesson. But neither is the case. I'm here on my own free will. But I suppose I am doing this as a service to the Dark Lord. He will no doubt be very pleased with me." With the dagger, the man lightly caressed Hermione's hair – causing Draco great agony with each stroke. Obviously, the man wanted to play with them…wanted to torture them. And he knew just how to do it – by using the one person everyone there cared about the most. Draco had to give the man credit. He certainly was no amateur.

"She's quite pretty… for a mudblood," the Death Eater mumbled, as if talking only to himself.

The man was lucky he had been able to use such a powerful spell on an entire group of people, gluing them to the ground, because if the spell had suddenly failed and Draco had been able to move again, he would have ripped the man to shreds with his bare hands.

"I originally thought perhaps a simple killing curse would suffice," he continued. "But then I thought, what fun is there to be had with that? You point the wand; you say the words, and poof! They're dead. That's a bit boring, don't you think? That's why I brought my trusty friend here." He held up the dagger for everyone to see, then brought it back down and held it gingerly against Hermione's throat. "I thought it would be more interesting if you all had to watch her suffer first."

Draco's breath caught in his throat. This guy wasn't seriously thinking of killing Hermione, was he? But of course he was. Death Eaters didn't play games. They didn't make idle threats. If a Death Eater said he was going to kill someone, he was going to kill someone. And Trelawney had predicted this…

Fuck! This was really going to happen. For once, Trelawney's prediction was going to come true – and Draco could do nothing to stop it. But he tried – along with Harry, Ron, Ginny and Luna. They all began squirming, trying to release themselves from whatever spell the man had cast upon them, but it was no use.

"Let her go. Please," Draco pleaded.

The Death Eater shook his head. "Any other suggestions?"

"Take me instead," Draco suggested.

"Or me," Harry said.

"Or me," Ron piped up.

"All very tempting offers," the man said, "but it has to be her."

"No, it doesn't!" Draco cried. "You don't have to do this. And you still haven't told us why you're doing this."

"All in due time, young Malfoy," was his only response. He released his arm from around Hermione's neck.

Draco should have felt relieved, but he knew that gesture did not mean the man was going to let her go. He was just trying to get a better angle. And sure enough, with lightening speed, he drove the dagger deep into Hermione's abdomen before anyone really knew what had happened.

"NO - HERMIONE!" Draco screamed.

The others followed suit. Ron and Harry both called out her name about the same time that Draco did, while Ginny and Luna both began to scream and sob. Hermione, meanwhile, stood absolutely still as the Death Eater yanked out the knife, allowing blood to flow freely from the wound. A pained expression came over her shocked face as she glanced from the stab wound, to Draco – before finally collapsing to the ground.

What happened next was all a blur. At the same moment that Hermione collapsed and the Death Eater began to flee, Draco heard two voices in the distance yelling out different spells. One, obviously, was a binding spell to prevent the Death Eater from escaping – which was evident from the fact that he, too, collapsed to the ground mid-stride, his limbs now bound in chains. Another spell seemed to have been one that released everyone from the spell the Death Eater had cast. Draco didn't even realize the spell had been broken, even though he was now running as quickly as he could to Hermione's side, along with the others.

"Hermione," he gasped, falling to his knees beside her. He stared down at her, trying not to look at the large amount of blood that was coming from the wound. Gently, he caressed the top of her head. "Hermione, look at me."

With glazed eyes, Hermione obeyed. "Draco?" she said in a dazed voice. She appeared to be in shock.

"Shh, don't talk," Draco said. "You're going to be okay," he assured her, hoping she couldn't detect the doubt in his voice.

Carefully, he lifted up her shirt a bit to assess the wound. It was worse than he thought. The Death Eater had wanted to make sure he gave her a fatal wound, and it looked as though he had probably succeeded. "I need a wand," Draco said.

Ginny and Luna just stood above Hermione, sobbing, while Ron and Harry were down on the ground with Draco, saying her name and trying to keep her awake. Nobody was even paying attention to Draco. "Somebody go get me my wand!" he bellowed. Luckily, Luna heard him this time and obeyed; she quickly ran in the direction their wands had all landed.

"Step aside," said a calm, gentle voice from above. Draco glanced up to see that Dumbledore had arrived, along with Professor McGonagall. Of course – they had been the ones shouting out the spells.

Harry and Ron obeyed the old man, but Draco remained where he was. Dumbledore knelt down beside Hermione. "Miss Granger. Can you hear me?"

Hermione's eyes flickered over to the Headmaster and she nodded slightly. A small droplet of blood began to emerge from the corner of her mouth.

"Everything is going to be alright, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said soothingly. He took out his wand, pointed it at her abdomen and began muttering a spell that Draco did not recognize. A healing spell of some sort, perhaps? If it was, it didn't seem to be working.

The world suddenly became eerily silent, save the soft sound of Dumbledore's voice and everyone's sobbing – it was as if the world around them had ceased to exist. And maybe…just maybe it had.

Draco kept his eyes glued to Hermione, silently willing her to get better – to stay alive. "Hermione," he whispered – so softly, he wasn't sure she'd be able to hear him.

But apparently, she did. Slowly, her eyes flickered over to him. She no longer looked afraid or shocked. She looked like a girl who had just realized her fate, and was accepting it. She reached out her hand weakly to him – most likely taking the last bit of energy she had in her – and took his hand in hers.

The gesture touched Draco so deeply that he wasn't sure he would be able to speak, as he began to feel a lump forming in the back of his throat. "Hermione," whispered again, not caring if anyone around them heard this. He had to tell her. He couldn't let her leave with letting her know. "Hermione, I -"

But he did not have the time to finish the words. Slowly, she closed her eyes as a single tear trailed down the side of her face, and her hand fell limp in his grasp.

"No," he whispered, shaking his head.

"Hermione!" Ginny cried. She knelt down beside Hermione and nudged her. "Damn you, Hermione! You can't do this to us! Wake up!"

But Hermione didn't respond.

Dumbledore closed his eyes and lowered his wand. Professor McGonagall let out a sob as she placed a hand on Dumbledore's shoulder. He had tried to save her, but he'd failed.

Draco loosened his grip on Hermione's hand and let it fall gently to the ground. He glanced around at Harry…at Ron…at Ginny and Luna…at Dumbledore and McGonagall. Their grief was palpable and overwhelming. Ginny was now clinging to Hermione, as if she was trying to hug her back to life. Luna looked a bit weak in the knees, but a sobbing Ron had a firm grip on her. And Harry – Harry looked like he was in a state of shock, as if it hadn't quite sunk in yet.

Numbly, Draco stood up. Nobody even glanced at him as he did, not that he would have expected them to. When he finally managed to tear his eyes away from Hermione's lifeless body, he turned around and began heading back towards Hogwarts.

He only made it a few steps, though, before his whole world came crumbling down around him, engulfing him in total darkness as the ground rose up to meet him.

"Mr. Malfoy, welcome back," said a pleasant voice next to him.

Groaning, he sat up in the bed. Glancing around the room, he quickly realized the bed he had been lying in was one of the infirmary's beds. And the voice that had just spoken to him belonged to Madame Pomfrey. The hospital wing? What was he doing there?

"What am I doing here?" he asked.

"You collapsed," Madame Pomfrey replied. "Professor Dumbledore brought you here. He thinks perhaps it was a side effect of a spell. You're going to be perfectly fine."

He had blacked out? He struggled to remember what he had been doing earlier, that would have caused him to collapse but nothing came to mind. Nothing but –

"Granger," he whispered. Suddenly, the memory came flooding back to him – the hooded man…the dagger…Hermione…

Immediately, his heart began to race. Hermione was dead. She had been murdered before his very eyes. The realization of this hit him so hard that he suddenly could not breath. Hermione…dead. No, it couldn't be. It wasn't possible. She couldn't be…

Wait…of course she wasn't. It had all just been a horrible nightmare! That's right – he had blacked out, and while he was unconscious, he had dreamt that Hermione died – a dream obviously brought on from their discussion the night before about Trelawney's prediction. It was as simple as that! He breathed a sigh of relief and found himself chuckling.

"Is something funny?" Nurse Pomfrey said.

"Yeah, actually," Draco replied. "When I was out, I had this dream – well, more like a nightmare, really."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. I had a dream that I was forced to watch someone I know get killed – and I couldn't do anything to stop it. You know how that happens in dreams, right? You always get frozen in one spot in the most inopportune time."

He had expected Madame Pomfrey to smile politely and nod – maybe even tell him of her own experience with a dream like that – but instead, she quickly turned away. It wasn't until that moment that he realized that the nurse was not her normal self. Usually, she was quick to scold Draco whenever he paid a visit to the infirmary, and lecture him about how he shouldn't do whatever it was he did that landed him in there. It wasn't until that moment that he realized that when she had first spoken to him when he'd woken up, her voice had sounded slightly shaky and completely devoid of any cheer that her voice usually contained - even when she was being curt with him. It wasn't until that moment that he realized her eyes were red and puffy, as though she had been crying.

"It was a dream," Draco whispered. He did not put it in the form of a question, because he did not want to hear Madame Pomfrey's answer. And somehow, he figured if he told himself it had all just been a dream, then it would be true.

Madame Pomfrey let out a small sob. That was all the confirmation he needed.

Immediately, he got up off the infirmary bed. He swayed a bit when his feet hit the floor, and the dizziness was immediately accompanied by a bout of nausea. But he ignored it all and quickly brushed past Madame Pomfrey.

"Mr. Malfoy!" she called after him as he headed for the door. "You can't leave! You need to stay until you're better! You're in no condition to -"

"I'm fine," Draco muttered, even though it was the farthest thing from the truth. He paid no heed to her warnings and continued on his way.

The trek back to his common room seemed to last an eternity. Most of the time, he was not even aware of his surroundings. He had no real sense of direction, as his mind was clouded with visions he wanted so desperately to get out of his head. He was truly amazed that he managed to find his way back to the Head Students' tower – and even more amazed that for once, the knight in the portrait paid no attention to him. In fact, he was so busy consoling The Fat Lady from Gryffindor's portrait, whose loud sobs echoed throughout the hallway, to even notice that Draco had arrived home. Only when Draco absent-mindedly uttered the password, did the knight even look up. Without a word, the knight swung open the door and Draco made his way through the portrait hole.

The very first sight he was greeted with when he walked into the common room was Dobby and Winky scampering around, putting the finishing touches on what was supposed to have been a pleasant holiday dinner between him and Hermione. And the house elves had done a splendid job preparing for it. All of the furniture had been moved out of the room, except for a dinner table which was already set, along with a vase of flowers and candles adorning the center. Soft violin music was playing from somewhere in the room – Draco was not sure from where exactly – and Winky was humming along with it completely out of tune. The sound made his blood boil with anger. Not because she sounded so terrible, but because she sounded so happy. Happiness was now a distant memory for Draco. He wasn't sure he would ever be able to feel it again.

Dobby caught sight of Draco and said cheerfully, "Dobby and Winky prepared good meal for Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy! Dobby and Winky are almost done -"

Slowly, Draco walked over to the dinner table. When he approached Dobby, he pushed him out of the way, causing the elf to stumble back into Winky, and the two of them fell into a heap on the floor. Dobby furrowed his brow and said, "Draco Malfoy does not appreciate Dobby and Winky's work!"

Ignoring Dobby, Draco walked straight over to the table. He paused for one moment, looking at the great job Dobby and Winky had done on it, before completely destroying it.

With one arm, he started to push everything onto the floor: the plates, the silverware, the glasses, the basket of rolls – even the candles, which instantly ignited once they hit the floor. Quickly, Dobby rushed over and began to put the flames out by stomping on them. Unfazed by the destruction he was causing, Draco continued his rampage by heaving the vase of flowers up against the wall with all of his strength. Next, he picked up each of the chairs and threw them as far across the room as he could, knocking over various things in the process. Finally, he took hold of the table and overturned it completely, letting it fall to the floor with a loud thud. When he was done, he realized his pulse was racing and he was breathing hard. And he wasn't sure, but he probably looked like a deranged lunatic at that moment. Letting out a loud, ragged breath, he slumped to the floor.

Judging from the frightened expressions on both of the house elves' faces, he certainly had looked like a deranged lunatic.

"D-Draco M-Malfoy scare D-Dobby," the house elf sputtered. He clung onto Winky as though he was protecting her – or vice versa. "Hermione Granger will not like her dinner now. Where is Hermione Granger?"

"Hermione Granger will not be joining us tonight," Draco replied stoically. Suddenly, he no longer felt the uncontrollable rage he had just succumbed to moments before. He did not feel any grief or anguish. In fact, he suddenly felt nothing at all.

"Why not?" Dobby asked in a small voice, almost as if he was afraid to hear the answer.

Draco stood up from the floor and immediately began to head in the direction of his bedroom.

"Because," he replied flatly, without even glancing back, "Hermione Granger is dead."