AUTHOR’S NOTE: I FINALLY finished the new ending. Personally, I thought Version 1 was a little too fluffy and there were
a few small errors in the text. Hopefully this is better. *thinks* Ummm, I guess I can dedicate this...or mention a few
peeps...Pisces and Volt, congrats on your wedding...same to Gill and Adam, if you guys are reading this...and WAZZUP to
everyone else on Secret Term: Sakora, Wulf, Draco (*waves energetically to Draco*), Alex and David Sax,
Nabroc/Keyoke, Choco, and everyone else who I know but just forgot in my temporary blonde state.

Invisibility

by Christi Talmer
 
 
 

Hermione Granger stepped into her room at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and sighed. It was holiday vacation;
she should be happy! But...there was something missing. It wasn’t that she was alone; Harry, Ron and Ginny had stayed, Harry
because...well, he always stayed for the holidays, and Ron and Ginny because their parents had gone to help Fred and George
open up their prank shop in America. Maybe this was just hormones. That must be it. Shaking her head and trying to drop the
heavy feeling that had just settled in her chest, she changed into pajamas and went to bed. To bed, but not to sleep. She lay
there, staring at the ceiling, for a long while. She was about to get up and do some homework, as she had done for so many
nights, when a voice called out to her from the darkness dominating her room (Parvati and Lavender had gone to a sleepover in
Ravenclaw, with Padma).

“Can’t sleep, Hermione?” It startled her, but it had a soothing quality to it, so she didn’t run or scream.

“Who are you?” Silence.

“Whoever you are, how long have you been in here?” She wondered if this late-night prowler had been in long enough to see
her changing...she hoped not.

“Not very long. I can’t sleep either; that’s why I came. Not that I ever can.”

“What is this, the Night Owl Club?”

“Hey, hey, calm down. I thought you looked like you could use some company.” Hermione cocked her head quizzically, but,
finding no one to look at, gave up and leaned against the headboard of her bed.

“Well, you’ve got me there. If you won’t tell me your name, will you at least give me hints?” A low chuckle.

“All right.” Nothing else followed, so Hermione decided to ask questions.

“You must be in Gryffindor to have the password...” she reasoned out loud.

“Actually, I’m not.” Hermione scanned the room again.

“Completely truthful?”

“Completely.”

“All right, I guess...are you in Hufflepuff? You don’t sound as harsh as the usual Ravenclaw.” Another chuckle, but no other
incriminating sounds or answers. Hermione decided to stop; maybe it was better not knowing what house he was in.

“Ummm...what year are you in?”

“Seventh, same as you.”

“Are you...were you...a prefect?”

“Yeah.” Well, that was getting her somewhere. There were about eight prefects from last year. Who were they again?
Hermione ticked off her fingers as she remembered them. Harry, herself, Terry Boot, Hannah Abbot, Draco Malfoy...and three
others she’d never met. So much for that idea.

“Are we through with twenty questions?” Hermione started to laugh, but caught herself, and nodded.

“Yeah. What d’you want to talk about?”

The pair talked for the better part of an hour, when the voice came again.

“I’d better go. It’s nearly morning.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right. If Harry or Ron finds anyone in here other than me, there will be bloodshed!” Laughs.

“I don’t doubt it. Could I ask you one thing before I leave?”

“What?”

“Ummm...I’ve heard that Dumbledore is having a ball on New Year’s’ Eve. Would-would you like to go with me?” She
cocked her head.

“How will I know who you are? Who are you?”

“We’re back to that again? I’m not a ghost, not Neville, what more could you ask for?” The entire school knew that Neville had
been harboring a crush for Hermione for a very long time. Hermione laughed.

“I guess you’re right...I’ll go with you.”

“Cool. Thanks. Try to get some sleep, Hermione.”

“You too.”

“Don’t worry, I will.” Light footsteps headed towards the door. Hermione blew the mystery man a kiss, and the door opened,
then closed softly. Hermione fell back on her pillows, wanting to consider this, but fell into a better sleep than she had had in
many nights. Outside of Gryffindor tower, Draco Malfoy removed the Invisibility Charm and leaned against the wall, sweating.
He couldn’t believe what he had just done...Lucius is going to kill me! Then he remembered that Lucius was dead, had been
since August. He chuckled, then the chuckle grew stronger until he was roaring with laughter. He wandered the school,
purposely putting as much distance between himself and Slytherin dungeon as he could, then raced the sun there. He wouldn’t
have cared if McGonagall or Flitwick or any other teacher in this school heard him, or caught him, but (miraculously) no one
did.

“Harry! Ron! I have to tell you something!” Hermione called to her friends. They were having a huge snowball fight with almost
everyone left at Hogwarts over the holidays. “What, Herm-” Ron was interrupted by a snowball hitting him in the side of the
head. Harry somehow disentangled himself from the mess, and came over to Hermione. “What?” He didn’t sound annoyed.
Hermione was about to tell him about the mystery visitor, but stopped. It was kind of nice to have something only she knew;
Harry, Ron and Ginny usually found out secrets before she did, or figured out hers.

“Well...err...I’ve just heard there’s going to be a ball New Year’s Eve.” It was lame, but all she could think of at the moment.
Harry looked at her as if she was mental.

“Yeah, Hermione, Dumbledore told us at breakfast.”

“Speaking of breakfast, why weren’t you there?” Ron too had gotten away from the mess their snowball fight had become, and
was a comical sight, with a half-white, half-red head. Hermione shrugged.

“Slept in late.” Harry surveyed her and nodded.

“That’s good. You look more rested than you have in weeks.” A few snowballs came their way, and two out of three people
ducked...Ron got hit on the other side of his head. He shook his fist at an abnormally large snowdrift.

“Dean! Seamus! You’re going to pay for this!” He sprinted off, easily avoiding most of the snowballs, but still getting hit a fair
amount of times. Hermione was laughing when, quite suddenly, a snowball appeared out of nowhere and hit her in the head.
“Ow! Who did that?” Her eyes wandered to a solitary figure standing a on the edge of the fray, looking a little too innocent.

“Aha!” Hermione conjured a snowball, and sent it spiraling at her victim’s head. Too late, he looked up and received it full in the
face. “Hey!” Hermione couldn’t recognize him, because he had a face mask on and his voice was muffled by it. Laughing, she
dashed off. The predator became the prey as he raced off after her.

Two hours later, everyone was exhausted as well as soaked to the bone and freezing cold. It was time to come in,
but...someone had locked the doors. It took five more minutes of pounding on the door to summon Professor McGonagall,
looking a bit disheveled , and to get in. After letting her “insane” students in, she left, presumably to go to the library, “where it’s
warm”.

“Bet she’s going to go see Snape,” Ron chuckled. “Prob’ly. Snape disappeared earlier this morning, and I think he swiped
some flowers from the vase outside the common room,” the muffled boy said. Heads turned to look at him then sniggers filled
the air. Ron and Harry had a look on their face reminiscent off the one Fred and George had worn at the end of their third year.

“Oh yeah...”

“Snape...Flowers...McGonagall...” It was too much. The two collapsed against each other in laughter. Something was bothering
Hermione, however. “There aren’t any flowers outside of the dorms...except, I’ve never been to Slytherin...” The muffled boy
let out a squeak and raced off down the hall. Hermione followed, and was about to catch him, but he disappeared around a
corner. Panting, Hermione made her way back to Gryffindor tower, took a hot shower, and changed. “Hi, Ginny,” she said, as
she came out into the first level of girl’s dormitories. Ginny looked up and flashed Hermione a smile, then looked back down at
something.

“What’ve you got there?”

“Invitation to the Maske.”

“The what?”

“The Maske. That’s what Dumbledore decided to call it.” Hermione nodded.

“Oh! Can I see it?” Ginny passed over the invite. It read:
 

New Year’s Ball

The Maske

Time: 6:00 PM, December 31

Place: The Great Hall

Everyone is welcome

There will be refreshments
 

“No dinner, though,” Ginny said, seeing Hermione’s eyes traveling down the paper.

“That’s OK...I don’t usually eat an actual dinner on New Year’s anyway. Remember the huge parties Fred and George used to
throw?” Ginny nodded; her older brothers had left Hogwarts last year.

“Maybe Dumbledore’s trying to make up for it, I’m pretty sure he knew about those.”

“Knowing Dumbledore, you’re probably right.” The two smiled. “C’mon, Ginny, we’d better go. Nearly dinner, and it sounds
like it’ll be the last one this year.”

Later on that evening, Hermione climbed into bed, anticipating another mystery visit. She wasn’t to be disappointed; her door
mysteriously “opened” and a whisper came from nowhere: “Hermione, are you in here?”

“Right here,” she replied in a normal voice.

“Hey! Are you trying to get me caught?” There was a degree of alarm in the voice this time.

“No, of course not! I put a Soundproofing Charm on this room before I went to bed.”

“Okay.” There was audible relief in his voice.

“Were you at the big snowball fight today?” Hermione asked, changing the subject.

“Yeah. I saw you, and I’m pretty sure you saw me.”

“Almost everyone was there.”

“Everyone actually was there, you just didn’t see them.” Hermione considered this.

“Well, there were a few people running around with their faces hooded... I’m sure I didn’t see Draco Malfoy, though.”
Chuckles.

“He was there.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Huh. I’m excited about the Maske; that’s going to be great.”

“Tell me about it. A party, a beautiful date, food, fun, dancing...what more could any guy ask for?”

Hermione was secretly glad it was dark; her cheeks burned red with pleasure.

“Gee, no one’s ever said something like that to me before.”

“I’m surprised. What about Viktor Krum?” Hermione waved her hand, though he couldn’t see it.

“Viktor! He was sick of girls drooling over him, and I was the “prettiest one that didn’t”. He said so himself...he was using me
to get the other girls jealous.”

“That slimy little...”

“It’s okay. I think he’s had enough punishment to keep him from doing it again anytime soon.” He laughed.

“I just bet.” An uneasy silence followed.

“Well...ahh...have you got any ideas for a costume yet?” Hermione shook her head, causing her hair to fan out around her face.

“No idea.”

“Well...I think I’ve got one.”

“A costume or an idea? Both work pretty well.”

“Well... a costume. I saw it in a shop in Hogsmeade.” Hermione nodded approvingly.

“Great! What’d it look like...and where’d you see it? I wonder if I’ve got enough to get it...”

“I’m not telling you.” Hermione started.

“You don’t have enough time to find it and buy it...believe me, I know how you women can look around for hours and not find
a single thing.” Hermione pouted.

“Well, too bad, I’m going to go find it. I don’t have anything else I could wear.” Sighs.

“OK, fine. I’d better, go, it’s getting late and I’m pulling an all-nighter tomorrow.”

“Another one.”

“Yeah.” Hermione felt something brush her cheek gently.

“Good night...I’ll see you tomorrow.” Hermione was about to say something, but heavy waves of irresistible sleep flowed over
her. She tried to fight it, but found it futile and soon fell into a restful slumber. The door opened, then closed, again, without
anyone there to move it.

Morning already? Hermione inwardly groaned. She sat up in bed, and something caught her eye. A dress?!? She gaped, then
jumped out of bed and tried it on. She went to her mirror, and gazed at her reflection. Even with a bed head, she could see how
good she looked in the dress. It was a sparkly silver color, not poofy but rather slender and form-fitting in all the right places.
The bottom of it barely went below her knees, and the top was sleeveless, with a drawstring neck. She noticed a note had fallen
when she had picked up the dress, and she picked it up and read it.

Hermione,

This is the costume I was talking about. Hope you like it. I’ll meet you outside of Gryffindor common room at exactly
5:55 PM tonight.

Sincerely,

Justin

Hermione gaped. He had left a name...and a dress? Even with her inexperienced eye, she could tell that the dress was a pretty
expensive one. But you can’t do anything about that now, she berated herself. What would you plan on? Burning it?
Leaving it? Mentally sighing, she took off the dress and hung it up (carefully) on Parvati’s bed. She’s not here right now, she
won’t mind, she thought wryly. As she was making her bed, another important fact popped into her head. He left a name...!
But...the only Justin she knew, Justin Finch-Fletchey, had gone home for the holidays. Maybe Justin, or whoever he was, had
used a middle name? Or a nickname? Well, I’m going to find out tonight!

No day had ever passed as slowly for Hermione before. She went around with a sort of glazed look on her eyes, and floated
more than anything. Ginny noticed this pretty quickly, and cornered her in the common room. “Hermione, what’s up with you
today? You’ve been floating around and completely ignoring everyone.” (Ginny had been part of an exchange program the past
summer, at the prompting of Professor Dumbledore and her parents. She went to the USA) Hermione shook her head and
looked at Ginny, one of her best friends. Her best female friend, anyway. She sighed. This was too bad. It had been nice having
her own secret. “Well, Ginny, y’see...” Fifteen minutes later, she had finished explaining, and Ginny was absolutely effervescent.
“You’ve got a date! A blind date, a secret admirer to boot!” Hermione blushed.

“Yeah.”

“You say he got you a costume?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, come on, we’ve got to go get you ready for the dance!”

“Yea-what?” Ginny dragged Hermione to the bathrooms, and made her take a shower. She spent the time while her hair dried
wondering what makeup would look best on Hermione. Hermione herself spent the time wondering what kind of a mess she
had gotten herself into. When it finally dried, Ginny put it in a ponytail and scooped it up in a claw, so that it stuck up a bit in the
back of her head, then sprayed it with hairspray “so it doesn‘t fall out”. Hermione resisted the makeup valiantly, but finally
compromised with Ginny and put on some glitter (on her arms and shoulders). When she was finally ready, it was very nearly
time to leave. Ginny scolded her when she jumped up and began to run down the stairs (she was very excited). “You’re going
to mess up your hair, and you forgot your mask,” she said, softening on the last part. Finally, she made it down to the common
room. Ron and Harry were there, (or at least Hermione thought so) talking and waiting. Ron (she could see some of his flaming
red hair) turned around and did a double take.

“Hermione?!?!” She blushed and nodded.

“hi Ron. Hi Harry.” Harry turned around and his jaw dropped.

“Geez, Hermione, where’d -how’d...Do you have a date? I’ve never seen you this dressed up, not even with Krum...geez!”

“Well...”

“Pick yourselves up already! She’s got a date, yeah...got a problem?” Ginny (miraculously) had gotten herself more glammed
up than Hermione in the tiny amount of time that had passed. She turned to Harry. “And I believe that you already have a date,
sir!” It was Hermione’s turn to gape.

“Ginny?!? With you, Harry?!?” They blushed.

“It’s about time!” Ron laughed so hard he choked.

“Thanks, Hermione...kill me before the Maske, that’s the ticket,” Ron said hoarsely. Ginny punched him in the arm.

“Lighten up, brother dear.”

“Ow! Wingardium leviosa,” he murmured, then floated above the group for a few minutes. “how’s this, Ginny? Auugh!” The
charm had just quit with Ron hovering, and he had fallen on his face. At that moment, Parvati chose to make her entrance and
looked distastefully down at Ron. “Oh, Ron, get up. You’ll dirty yourself,” she whined. Everyone sniggered. Noticing her
audience, Parvati swooped down on him.

“Ron? Are you all right? Speak to me, Ron!” He mumbled something no one could catch.

“Come again, darling?”

“I said, could you please get off my knees so I can get up?” Blushing horribly, Parvati clambered off, and Ron stood up, looking
a bit aggrieved.

“We’d better go, ‘darling’,” Ginny said, looking at Harry with puppy eyes. Harry stifled a laugh and led her out of the common
room and into the hall. Ron sighed.

“Bye, Hermione.”

“Ciao!” This came from Parvati.

“Yeah, bye, Hermione,” came a somewhat muffled voice from the hall. Hermione waved and closed the portrait hole. She
sighed and looked at the clock: 5:50. “Five minutes,” she groaned. Then she noticed her mask sitting on a chair. She proceeded
to put it on; it was a wizard mask, and adhered itself to your skin. It came off easily, though, and didn’t have any strings or
handles. After pressing gently along all the edges, Hermione checked her reflection. She was a bit startled; she couldn’t even
recognize herself. She tore her gaze away and peered at the clock: 5:55. “Time to go!” she exclaimed. She made sure she had
everything, then took a deep breath and walked out to the portrait hole.

“Hello, Hermione,” the voice said. Hermione turned and saw a boy leaning against the wall. His face was shadowed, and she
tried to get a better look, but he turned into the light, grinning. He already had his mask on as well. Hermione got her first look
at him; he was handsome, sturdily built but not heavy. He had midnight black hair, and pale white skin. His eyes showed through
his mask; they were a startling violet shade.

“Hi, Justin.” He suppressed a chuckle. “From the short time I’ve known you, I can tell you’re smart enough to not give me your
real name. Not after visiting me at night, invisible.”

“Gee, you do know me.”

“Middle name?”

“Yup. C’mon, we’d better go. We’re going to be late.” Hermione allowed him to hold her hand as they walked through the
corridors. They talked as they went, about family, friends, and life in general. On the first two topics, Justin was much more
cryptic than Hermione, but really seemed to have thought about life quite a bit. “My life’s just been getting better and better,
ever since my dad died,” he mentioned, and Hermione squeezed his hand. “That’s awful!” He shrugged.

“Not really. My dad was the awful one, beating me up and cursing me most of the time when I was home, and lecturing me
about ‘family honor’ the rest of the time, usually when I was too broken to respond.” Tears sprung up into Hermione’s eyes.
“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. He’s gone now, so there’s no use crying over it.” She was startled at how harsh his voice had become all of a
sudden. She shivered.

“Don’t talk like that. You sound like Draco Malfoy.” Silence prevailed, until the couple reached the Great Hall. It was
decorated in iridescent colors (purple and blue seemed to be the dominant ones) and silver streamers. Colored lights were
swinging around in some areas, and the High Table seemed to have disappeared. The teachers were nowhere to be found,
except for a suspicious character with a silver beard...Hermione laughed at the sight of this and the exchange in the hall between
Justin and herself (?) had been forgotten. She grabbed his hand and dragged him along, to the center of the room where a large
crowd had gathered. The pair pushed and shoved their way into where they could see what was going on. Ron and Padma Patil
were swing dancing in the middle; Parvati was nowhere to be found, probably off sulking somewhere. The song suddenly
ended and Ron came away, looking winded and blushing. “H-hi Hermione,” he panted, grinning. “Who’re y-you?” he asked
Justin. Justin fidgeted, then replied, “Call me Justin.” He nodded, and was pulled away by Padma, most presumably to a more
private spot. Another song came on, even faster than the last, and Justin turned to Hermione, grinning. “Shall we?”

“Oh, we shall, we shall!” Hermione responded enthusiastically.

The two danced for the better part of the evening, stopping only occasionally to get some punch or catch their breath. During
one of these intermissions, Hermione glanced up at the ceiling and thought she spotted something. “Isn’t that Professor Snape?”
she gasped. Justin looked up, and, sure enough, there was

Snape. “He’s got some stuff behind him...Fireworks?” Nobody could really tell what the Professor had, but most of the bets
were on pyrotechnics (AN: pyrotechnics ARE fireworks, k?). A group of people had gathered to watch, and when Snape
stumbled, there were gasps and screams from the crowd. He regained his balance and waved at the crowd. Hermione stifled a
laugh. “Snape with fireworks, on the roof, waving at students? That doesn’t seem right, somehow...” Justin laughed out loud.
“You’re right. It doesn’t, but neither does McGonagall in a halter top, does it?” Hermione’s head snapped around, and, sure
enough, the unmistakable figure of her teacher was in a silver halter top, with matching skirt. “D’you think they’re...” Hermione
stopped, overcome by giggles. Justin looked at her, then joined her. “Well, if Snape with fireworks is possible, and McGonagall
in a halter top is possible, then Snape (with fireworks) and McGonagall (in a halter top) as a couple is possible.” Hermione
finished laughing and nodded. “Mmm-hmmm. Whatever floats your boat is fine with me.”

“Yeah. C’mon, let’s dance!” Justin agreed. He led her back out onto the floor, and a new song soon began. Hermione was
actually a good dancer, despite never dancing. Justin was an exceptional dancer, and they soon attracted a small crowd. They
went through two or three songs (they lost count), then had to rest. A dubious-looking couple, a redhead and a boy with black
hair, pushed their way past and proceeded to entertain the crowd. Justin went to get some punch, while Hermione watched the
two. She couldn’t tell who was dancing, try as she might. “Make a cute couple, don’t they?” a playful voice whispered in her
ear.

“Ginny?” Hermione gasped. “How-what-you’re out there with Harry...aren’t you?” Ginny laughed conspiratorially , then
whispered: “Think for a sec, Hermione. What other redhead do you know?” She gasped again.

“You don’t- you can’t- surely you don’t mean Ron?”

“Shhh, keep it down! And yes, I do! He and I switched costumes, see? I dared him to (for laughs), and he accepted. He knows
the consequences are usually worse then the dares when it’s my turn.” Hermione shivered. She remembered all too well (AN:
Think I should make a story about that? Tell me, I just might!)...She shook off that disturbing memory, and turned her attention
back to the two boys. They were having fun, as far as she could tell...they were both good dancers. Without warning, they
broke away from the crowd and dashed out of the hall. Hermione laughed, then walked over to Justin, who as still at the punch
bowl. “What’s the matter? Can’t decide what you want?” Justin looked at her seriously.

“Yeah. What would you like, spiked or no?”

“Someone spiked the punch?”

“Yep. Old tradition. One of the bowls is always spiked. I’m trying to decide which is, and which isn’t.”

“Lemme try.” Hermione ladled a small serving into one of the goblets standing next to the bowls. She sipped it cautiously, then
nodded. “This one is fine.” She got herself a bigger serving, then smiled. “I didn’t poison it, y’know.” Justin shook his head.

“I know. What if you didn’t pick the right one? I know some kids that can dilute the taste but no the effectiveness.” Hermione
grinned coyly.

“Then I have an extremely crazy (but fun) night tonight.” Justin shrugged, then got himself some.

The midnight hour was quickly approaching, and, at about five minutes away from the new year, Professor Dumbledore went to
the stage and asked for quiet.

“Thank you all for coming to the Maske. As you all know, midnight is only five more minutes away, and that is why I’m standing
up and telling you all this. There are plenty of wizard crackers for everyone; please don’t fight over them. If you are wishing to
get kissed by midnight, then you had best hurry.” Everyone laughed at this. “Please make sure to thank Professor Snape for the
fireworks display, I am sure it will be spectacular.” There was scattered applause; either there were more Slytherins left than
everyone thought, or the spiked punch had been a popular drink tonight. “Professors McGonagall, Flitwick and Snape are
responsible for the decorations. As an afterthought, some of you have charmed your masks to make them come off on the
stroke of midnight. If they do not come off, then please ask Professor Flitwick or myself for assistance. Now, since I am done
doling out the credit and instructions, I will leave you to your party. Happy New Year!” With this, Dumbledore departed form
the stage. A golden clock had appeared, counting down the minutes. “Kiss me at midnight?” Justin whispered to Hermione. She
nodded. They pulled a wizard cracker in anticipation of the golden hour (“It’s a practice run!”), and split the prizes. Hermione
received a small, sliver ring (as well as a handful of candy), and Justin got a gold ring, candy, and a white rose, which he
(tastefully) presented to Hermione (who blushed). Then the countdown began.

“Five-four-three-two-one...” the crowd chorused. Justin pulled Hermione over to him, whispered, “Happy New Year,” and
kissed her. His mask gently slipped off his face and fell to the floor, forgotten, next to hers. The charm on his hair slowly wore
off, the black changing to a blonde rivaling the silver of Hermione’s dress. Hermione opened her eyes and gazed into an icy blue
pair...Icy blue? Hermione pushed “Justin” away.

“Malfoy?” She nearly spat the word. He noticed, and tried to calm her down.

“Hermione, I-”

“I don’t want to hear it! What do you think you’re playing at? Coming into my room, invisible, for midnight visits? Who put you
up to this, Justin? Or should I say, Draco Justin Malfoy?” She yelled the first part, sneered the second. The room fell deadly
silent.

“Hermione...please...let me explain...”

“Don’t call me Hermione, Malfoy.” She searched for words, but seemed too angry for them. “Don’t call me at all.” With this,
she stalked out of the room, leaving “Justin” to stare at her quickly receding back.

Draco was too stunned by this to even try to stop the fist that was on a collision course with his face (or if he did see it, he made
no effort to stop it). All he felt was an explosion of pain, from his heart and his head, then knew no more. Hermione was faring
no better. She distanced herself from the hall, then, when she was certain she was lost, burst into tears. She sunk slowly to the
floor, sobbing. What had she done? Banished the one person who had appreciated her as more than a student, a friend, a brain
or a weapon, that’s what. Hermione cried herself to sleep, only to dream about the horrible events of the night.

“Where am I?” Draco groaned. Madame Pomfrey bustled over.

“It’s about time you came around. You’ve been out cold since the Maske.” He groaned, remembering the horrible conclusion
to his evening. “I didn’t think anyone could punch that hard.” Tenderly, Draco felt the side of his head.

“Who punched me?”

“Harry Potter. He was rather upset with you.” Draco’s mind wandered to Hermione, and he suddenly felt alert. “I have to go
do something, Madame Pomfrey. Thanks!” He jumped out of the bed and raced out the door to Gryffindor Common Room.
“Veela hair,” he murmured, and the portrait swung open to admit him. Just as he had hoped, the remaining Gryffindors were
sitting around the fire, with the exception of one. “Where’s Hermione?” he demanded. Heads snapped around, and Harry stood
up. “Crying in her room, I expect. Get out of here, Malfoy. This is none of your business.”

“Yes it is, Potter. It’s my fault she’s upset. I’m not leaving till I find her.” Ginny spoke.

“She’s not here.”

“What?” two voices sounded, then their owners glared at each other.

“She never came up.” Draco gave them all a quick glance, then hurried out of the room. He searched for Hermione for good
while, then went to the condemned area of the castle. Soon he found Hermione in a slump on the floor. He picked her up and
whispered, “Please forgive me, Hermione,” and carried her down to the hospital wing.

The next morning, Hermione had come to. Madame Pomfrey tended to her diligently, but would not meet her eyes. Near
midmorning, Hermione became aware of labored breathing in the curtained bed next to hers. She pulled herself out of bed and
around to the next, and was startled to see Draco Malfoy lying there, skin almost transparent. His eyes, now crystal blue,
looked up at her when she entered. “Hello...Hermione...” he gasped. She sat down next to him, worried. “What’s the matter,
Malfoy?” Try as she might, she old habits die hard and she continued calling him ’Malfoy’. He smiled weakly.

“Old...family...curse...

“My...my father died in August because of ...the curse. Malfoys...are never supposed to feel...anything. Love...is a deadly one.
The...the others are painful...and...crippling...except for...hate...anger...suspicion...greed...et cetera...et cetera...” Hermione
smiled; he still hadn’t lost his sense of humor. “My...father...felt...compassion for a street wizard. He...died a...week later.
Love...is the worst. It...kills if the feeling...isn’t mutual. It...it kills more...quickly. And...I’m living (dying?) proof. I’m sorry,
Hermione.” Tears were running freely down Hermione’s cheeks.

“I’m...I’m so sorry, Malfoy. I-I wish...”

“Shh. Don’t. Just...don’t let me die alone.” As if in response to this, his breathing became hoarser, and he was unable to say any
more.

“I won’t leave you.” Hermione felt something as she gazed into his face...her heart ached and felt like it was about to burst.

He was slowly fading away...literally. Except for his face and beautiful eyes. His eyes stayed crystalline blue, his hair pale
blonde. His breathing quickened.

“This...isn’t...sup-supposed to ha-happen...” He was visibly frightened now. Then he calmed down. “Wait...no...I’m still dying.
Her-her-hermione, p-please don’t for-get me.” There were tears in Hermione’s eyes as she clasped his hand and looked into
his eyes, which had now gone to a stormy gray.

“I- I won’t...Draco.” He smiled at this, and gasped suddenly. He continued smiling, then his eyes closed. His breathing slowly
stopped, and Draco Malfoy faded into...invisibility.