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A/N: Yes, it’s short. Yes, it’s kind of boring. Yes, it’s not very happy, but I’m not in the mood to write so this was the best I could come up with. Hopefully the next one will be better and longer. I don’t know when it will be out, but don’t worry about the story ending, because I will tell you when it does. Also, thanks a lot to Delia Grace for giving me the web address to the site with all that information on it, it’s a great resource and I appreciate it.


Hermione awoke with a start in an anything but gentle manner. Her body was alert, but she kept her eyes squeezed shut. Her muscles tensed up and she desperately racked her brain for any information about her surroundings. She recalled the fall out with Draco, then running into the library. Tentatively opening her eyes, they slowly adjusted to the dark of the room. She could make out fuzzy outlines of bookshelves and the shadowy aisles that led back to the main part of the library. Fumbling around for her wand, she found it in her back pocket and pulled it out. “Lumos.” She whispered. A small pool of soft light glowed in front of her. She got up uneasily, her body stiff and cramped from sleeping in a tight ball form against the wall of the library. She gathered her bag and slung it over her sore shoulder. She was still tired, as sleeping as she did rarely produces quality slumber. She weaved her way back down the aisles to the librarian’s desk. It was vacant, which was not a surprise. Above it hung a large clock, its hands pointed to fifteen minutes before five. The library opened at six o’clock every morning, but Hermione couldn’t allow anyone to see her in the condition she was in, plus she was dying for some real sleep. She hadn’t seen her own reflection since yesterday but she imagined she looked quite distressed. Her hair was frizzy and tangled, her clothes wrinkled and tear stained, and she had puffy dark circles under her eyes.

After trying with no avail to open the library door with “Alohomora”, she decided that going threw the high window that led to the open corridor was her best bet. She pushed one of the tables under the window, and the piled a couple of thick books on top of that. She climbed up to the top of her structure, then pushed the window open and dropped her book bag out first. She stuck one leg out, then the other so that she was leaning out the window with half her body in, and the other half out. Just as she was about to slowly make her way down the high stone wall, she heard the click-clack of heals coming down the corridor. She knew she wouldn’t have the time or the strength to pull herself back in, so she pushed herself out the window and landed painfully on her knees with a sickening crash. Pain shot up through her legs, but not wanting to be caught, she scrambled up to her feet and snatched her book bag before hurrying off down the corridor. She knew that whoever it was that was coming must have heard the sound of her crashing, so she hid in the shadows of the nearest statue.

The shiny heels of Minerva McGonagall clicked past her in a frenzy to find the cause of loud noises. Once the click-clacking could no longer be heard, Hermione ducked out from her hiding place and dumbly felt her way in the dark up to the head common room. It was early morning now, and both students and staff would be awakening soon, so despite the tremendous soreness in her legs, she pressed on up to her bedroom. Inside, she dropped her bag carelessly to the floor, and sat down on the edge of her bed to inspect her legs. Her skin stung as she ran her fingers over the swollen, purple bruises that had already begun to form with a feather-like touch. It hurt when she bent or extended her legs, this was not good for her dancing. I am so foolish. She thought. To fall on my knees like that was probably the worst thing I could do. Not bothering to undress, she cautiously slid her legs under her soft sheets and fell asleep the moment her tired face hit the pillow.



Draco had given up on sleeping by the time pink light streamed in through his curtains. All his searching for Hermione last night had been proved pointless, as he could not find her. He had no idea where she could be, or whether or not she was okay. He felt the guilt weighing heavily on his shoulders because he knew the reason she was so upset was because of him. Why couldn’t he control his temper? He hadn’t felt this out of control since… Draco looked over at the calendar hanging above him desk and it hit him like a ton of bricks. It had been exactly one year and three days since his father’s death. It wasn’t a sad affair, but he thought back to the weeks after he found out. When the ministry told him of his father’s death, Draco had gone a bit mad with power. He felt free, he had all of a sudden gained his own independence, and the idea of being able to do what ever he pleased without his father over ruling him was a glorious thought. However, as much as he celebrated, he also fumed in anger over the damage his father had done before he was finally put to rest. No, they were not happy times, and now, a year later, he still held the resentful emotions inside, and they were having quite a negative affect on his love life.

He threw the covers off of himself and swung his legs over the edge of his bed, sitting up quickly. I will find her. I have to. He thought.


Hermione turned in her sleep, some of the blankets falling away in the process. She lay on her stomach, the side of her smooth face pressed into the pillow and one of her legs dangling off the bed. Her hair spilled wildly down over her shoulder and her upper back, and her soft snores could be heard coming from her motionless figure. Logically, her bedroom was the first place Draco looked, just to see if she had come in after he went to bed. Fortunately for him, his search started and ended in the same place. He opened her door and stepped in, scanning the room. His eyes settled on the occupied bed and he immediately relaxed. Thank Merlin, she’s sleeping. He walked noiselessly across the floor to the bed where her leg was hanging off. As gently as he could without waking her, he lifted the blankets and tucked her leg back under, but as he was doing so, he saw large, painful looking purple bruises covering her legs (particularly around the shins and knees, but some on the back of her thighs as well). What on Earth happened to her? I swear if I find out who did this to her I will…

Draco’s angry and curious thoughts where interrupted by a soft moan from Hermione, that appeared to be in discomfort. He stood back and watched her rearrange herself, turning over onto her back and kicking off the blankets he had just covered her with. Draco’s jaw hit the floor when he saw her knees. Worse than any of the bruises, it literally looked like someone had taken a beater’s bat to her knees. They were dark and discolored, with some spots of dried blood on them. He hadn’t wanted to wake her, but this was too much. He had to know what caused all of the injuries.

Lightly shaking her shoulder, he whispered “Hermione.” There was no reply, so he tried a little louder. “Hermione.” She shifted in her bed and then cracked her eyes open. She stared lazily at him for a minute, taking her time to register who it was that was hovering above her. Once she realized it was Draco, her eyes shot all the way open.

“Draco… what are you doing here?” She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and sat up. He sat down next to her on the bed and caressed her cheek caringly.

“Hermione what happened to you? Did somebody hurt you because if they did just tell me who and I swear to Merlin I will kill them.” He said. Remembering their row, she raised her chin defiantly and moved her face away from his touch.

“Why would you care? I probably shouldn’t talk, I would hate to, ‘blow your bloody ears out.’” She said coldly. He sighed and dropped his head.

“Look, I didn’t mean it okay? We were in the middle of an argument, it just slipped out. I’ve got a lot on my mind right now.”

“Yeah, and I guess I’m not one of those things.”

“Would you give it a rest already? I’m trying to make things better, not worse.” He said.

“What do you want?” Hermione asked impatiently.

“You.” He replied simply. Hermione rolled her eyes. “I want to know what happened to your legs.”

“I fell.”

“Where?”

“Out the library window.”

“What? You’re too good to use the door now?”

“It was locked you arrogant smartass.”

“Why didn’t you just wait until the library opened?”

“Because I didn’t want to.” She answered shortly.

“So you… fell out of the library window?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He stood up and the bent down and scooped her up in his arms. She shrieked and demanded to be put back down.

“Draco what in Merlin’s name are you doing? Put me down this instant! I don’t want to go anywhere with you!” She tried to wiggle out of his arms, but he held onto her tighter.

“First of all, I’m taking you to Madame Pomfrey to get your legs healed, second of all, I will not put you down because it is more than likely that you are incapable of walking very well on your own, and thirdly, you do want to go anywhere with me because you are still wearing your ring.” Draco said matter-of-factly.

Hermione didn’t say anything the rest of the way to the hospital wing.

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