The Girl Who Lived (Draco Malfoy x OC)

The Darkest Night

June 1st 1997

Hermione remembered the darkness Harper suffered before they created D.A. in fifth year. The abasement her best friend dropped into as Umbridge tortured her with blood quills and Voldemort terrorized her with infernal visions. She'd become closed off and quiet, turning from her friends. Just as she was now following the demise of her relationship with Malfoy. Though Hermione hadn't seen them together, she could see the absence of happiness and hope in her friend. Even she could see Malfoy's deterioration over the months and felt her own concern, she couldn't imagine how awful Harper felt at night when they bid each other good night.

She dismissed the thoughts as she finished her tutoring for the third year's and walked them to the Grand Staircase. They scattered with energy and full of magic, waving her goodbye. She shouted one last reminder for curfew before clambering up the staircase, knowing the perfect times for when the steps would rotate. Ron, Harper and she were amazed in their first year by the magical moving architecture. She chuckled, remembering how late they would be to class for the first few weeks by taking the wrong stairs and going all sorts of directions. Now, they had mastered it and Hermione didn't spare a glance as she ascended towards Gryffindor Tower.

Instead, her eyes caught a silver-blonde head, perched on the stairs just above, leaning lax against the railing.

This was the second time Hermione had found Draco Malfoy ominously on the stairs on her way back from tutoring. There was something daunting about the way he hung his head, and by Merlin, his wrists were so boney. The warm glow of candles pretended his skin looked lively, but as Hermione approached, the shadows moved and the true ash grey skin was revealed. He nearly looked like he was dying.

The boy had bullied Hermione for years, but in this circumstance, she couldn't ignore him. Her best friend loved this ferret after all.

"Malfoy," she said softly as she neared.

He didn't raise his head to look at her, just scrunched his fingers further into the iridescent strands. Hermione could have sworn he sniffed. "Where is Harper?" He asked, his voice holding a throaty quality to it, head still hung.

"She's with Dumbledore," Hermione said.

Harper had gone for what she thought was going to be another one of her lessons, but hurried back to inform Hermione and Ginny that Dumbledore had found a horcrux.

"I'll be fine, I'll be with Dumbledore," Harper had said, and before they could ask anything else, she was gone.

Finally he raised his head to look at her, his eyes red. She hardened her jaw, attempting not to express any shock at the state of him. Malfoy looked like he hadn't seen sleep in days. To think of it, she hadn't seen him in a week. This guy was in dire need of sunlight. He was always so confident and full of pride in the halls, it was heart-rendering to see him so... broken.

"So they have left the castle," he surmised, hands fisted under his chin. "Hmm."

"You know where they are?" She asked, amazed.

"I knew they were going somewhere tonight," he admitted, tilting his head so his cheek rested on his knuckles. "I wish she had stayed."

"She'll be fine, she's with Dumbledore," Hermione echoed.

His clouded eyes zapped to her. "Go to your room, Granger. It's late."

She frowned, reading something behind the words. Hermione was the brightest witch in their year; she knew that he knew she understood the hidden meaning. "Draco," she said, using his real name. "You don't have to do this."