Hermione awoke in her bed gasping for breath. 'Oh good,' she thought relieved, 'it was just a dream.'




She recalled the horrific dream. She had seen Voldemort while heading out from the library.




"Where is Harry Potter?" he had demanded.




"I would never tell you!" Hermione had yelled back at him.




"Silly girl," he spoke icily.




He had performed the Cruciatus Curse on her until she woke up. Voldemort laughed the entire time as she went through the excruciating pain that she was experiencing. He had enjoyed seeing her twitch from the pain she had felt.




Hermione shivered involuntarily. It was almost like she could feel the curse in the dream. It was a nightmare, she decided.




She decided it was time to get moving, as she saw the clock read 7:54 AM. She looked in the mirror just to be sure she was fine.




'Yep,' Hermione thought, 'I still have my bushy hair, and no cuts, scrapes or bruises. It was definitely a nightmare.'




Hermione didn’t want to bother to shower, for she was still recovering from her nightmare, she didn’t change clothes, and just left her hair wild. She had fallen asleep in her school robes and she just hoped that she didn’t look (or smell) too horrible.




Hermione went into the Great Hall, and saw Harry and Ron looking sorrowful. "Guys? Are you okay?" Hermione asked, very concerned.




Ron looked directly at her and replied, "It's almost like I can hear her."




Harry said, "I know what you mean. It's almost like I can feel her presence in here."




Hermione looked at them, hurt. "Are you still mad at me, just for not letting you copy my essay? If it is, then you two are going way too far."




The two boys just looked down at their food and ignored her. Hermione didn't feel hungry anymore. She stormed out of the Great Hall to go to the library before Transfiguration. She scanned through the books and finally decided on a thick charms book. She reached to get it, but her hand went through it.




‘What?’ Hermione thought, ‘Be logical, Hermione. It's probably just jinxed.’




A small voice in the back of her head said, 'Then why isn't it in the Restricted section'




‘Because,’ she reasoned with the voice in her head, ‘it's a prank by a student.’




Pleased that she silenced the voice that gave her doubts, she picked a completely different book on the other side of the library. Again she reached for it, but couldn't touch it.




'It's you, not the books,' the voice persisted.




Hermione retorted, ‘The spell must have been cast on the whole library.’




The voice laughed. But Hermione didn't have time to argue with herself, seeing as Transfiguration was starting in five minutes.




Hermione ran down the halls so she wouldn't be late. As she sprinted, she hoped not to run into any teachers, or Peeves. She was lucky for the former, but not the latter. As she spotted Peeves, Hermione looked around frantically for another route, but found none. Much to her surprise, Peeves just flew by, taking no notice of Hermione. She didn't have time to ponder why he didn't notice her for she had less than a minute to get to class. She started running again, but the bell rang about a minute before she could get there. Hermione walked into the open classroom door, gasping for breath. No one looked at her, not even Professor McGonagall.




Hermione didn't care that she wasn't noticed by the teacher, and started with an excuse, "I'm so sorry I'm late, Professor. I ran into Peeves, and you know how he is."




Professor McGonagall didn't seem to notice, so Hermione took an empty seat up front. The professor continued on with the lesson, which was about Animagi. "Now, as you all know, I am an Animagus. Can anyone tell me one of the requirements of becoming an Animagus?"




Hermione's hand shot up in the air, as usual, while everyone else's was down. Professor McGonagall scanned the room. She started to lecture the class. "All of you will be taking your NEWTS next year!! You should at least be able to tell me that you have to register at the Ministry of Magic to become an Animagus!"




Hermione looked at the Professor in dismay. Professor McGonagall completely ignored her. She would never do that. The only one to ever do that was Snape. Why wasn't anyone even acknowledging her existence?




"Why is everyone ignoring me?!?!" Hermione screamed as loud as she could, but no one even looked at her. She started crying. "Can't you see me?" she asked, this time much quieter.




She stormed out of the room. She was so angry and upset, she forgot to open the door. She walked right through it. Hermione did notice this. She stopped immediately, with half of her body in the classroom, the other half out.




"Am I a ghost?" Hermione wondered aloud. "I can't be, though, otherwise everyone would see me. What happened to me?"




Immediately getting an idea, she ran to the Hospital Wing. Upon entering, she saw Draco Malfoy sleeping. She remembered yesterdays' game. Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. Of course Gryffindor won, but Malfoy was close to catching the Snitch. When he realized he couldn't get it, he tried to shove Harry, but Harry had prepared for this and put in an extra burst of speed. Malfoy had fallen off his broom and acquired a few injuries. Luckily for him, they weren't too severe because the Snitch was just ten feet from the ground.




Suddenly he woke up. He turned to Hermione and asked, "What are you doing here, Mudblood?"




Hermione stared at him, wide-eyed, and asked, "You can see me?"




A bewildered Malfoy answered, "Duh! You've been hanging around Weasel-boy way too long."




Madame Pomfrey poked her head inside. "Good, you're up. I was starting to worry that your head injury was more serious than I thought."




Madame Pomfrey came in with a potion and walked right through Hermione. It was Malfoy's turn to stare wide-eyed. He started mumbling, "But she... how... can't be... no... what?"




Madame Pomfrey asked in concern, "What are you talking about, deary?"




"Never mind," Malfoy mumbled quickly.




Madame Pomfrey still looked a little worried. She watched him drink the potion in one gulp, make a disgusted face, and handed her the vial.




Madame Pomfrey informed Malfoy, "I'm going to keep you in here until tomorrow morning, so I can be sure you're fine." With that, she left the room, walking through Hermione again.




Hermione suddenly remembered her real reason for being here. She looked around and saw some closed curtains. Hermione looked at it with dread. She slowly walked over, Malfoy watching in amusement. She stuck her head in and gasped. "Why do I always have to be right?" she moaned. Malfoy stared at her, confused.




"What are you blabbering on about?" he asked, in a harsh manner. Only he could make a question seem like an insult.




"If you really want to know," she spat, "then go look behind these curtains!" She pointed to the curtains. She really hated Draco Malfoy. Why did he have to be the only one who could see her?




Malfoy got up, a bit slowly. He was still in a little pain, and trudged slowly over to the curtains. He pulled them open and his eyes became the size of dinner plates.




Malfoy began stuttering in shock. "But... but... how... you're there... what... how did that happen?"




Hermione looked over at her body, covered in cuts and bruises, lying in the hospital bed. 'At least I'm alive,' she thought.




Then a sudden realization dawned over her. "The dream was real," Hermione whispered so quietly that Malfoy, who was only a foot away from Hermione, could barely hear her.

Hermione looked over at her body, covered in cuts and bruises, that was lying in the hospital bed. 'At least I'm alive,' she thought.



Then a sudden realization dawned over her. "The dream was real," Hermione whispered so quietly that Draco Malfoy, who was only a foot away from Hermione, could barely hear her.



Malfoy looked between Hermione's body and Hermione's sort-of ghost with his face frozen by shock. He quickly regained his composure.



“All right, Granger, what the hell is up?” he snarled. “Madam Pomfrey walking through you, and not noticing you? Not to mention two of you, really, one was bad enough,” questioned Draco, not forgetting to insult Hermione while during so.



“Well, seeing as you're the only one who can see or hear me, I might as well tell you what I know, Malfoy. I had a dream last night, about Voldemort performing the Cruciatus curse on me until I woke up. Since my body is all scraped up and there's two of me, I think it means my dream was real,” Hermione explained, and then went on. “We need to go to the library.”



“Excuse me?” Malfoy asked, not believing what he was hearing. “What do you mean, 'we'? You can go by yourself and read the whole library for all I care.”



Hermione shot him a glare, and stated, as if she were explaining this to a three-year-old, ”I. Can't. Touch. Anything. That includes books. You don't have to help research, just get the books and turn the pages.”



“And why would I do that? What's in it for me?” Malfoy asked, smirking.



Hermione thought quickly and managed to imitate Malfoy’s smirk incredibly well. “If you haven’t noticed, you're the only one who can see or hear me.”



Malfoy gave her a look. “So...”



Hermione continued. “Let's just say that you won't be alone until you help me, and what you hear may irk you slightly. It doesn't even matter if you try to hit me or knock me out because no one can touch me.”



Hermione smirked as she saw Malfoy dumbfounded. It was a quite amusing face, but, unfortunately, Malfoy was able to regain his composure rather quickly.



“I will never help a Mudblood,” Malfoy stated coldly.



Hermione chuckled and said with the utmost determination, “We'll see how true that is soon. I don't think you'll last a week with me bothering you.”



Hearing Malfoy talking somewhat loudly, Madam Pomfrey came out to check on him. She saw him arguing with nobody, and Hermione Granger's curtains were open. No one was supposed to know about her. She rushed out as fast as she could.



“Mr. Malfoy! What are you doing! Who are you arguing with? And why are Miss Granger's curtain open?” Madam Pomfrey asked, urgently.



Malfoy looked up and his eyes widened. He could only think of one thing to get out of this sticky situation. Malfoy closed his eyes and let his body collapse on the floor.



Madam Pomfrey ran over to him and tried to gently wake him up. “Come on, Mister Malfoy, come on now! Please, wake up,” she begged the ‘unconscious’ Malfoy.



Malfoy finally ‘woke up’ after five minutes, by which time he was thoroughly tired of being shaken and just pretended that he couldn’t remember anything. After he drank the potion he had been given, Malfoy insisted he was fine and was just going to sleep for a while. Madam Pomfrey left the room as Malfoy started to try and go to sleep. But this simple task was made harder because the entire time Hermione was talking non-stop.



As soon as Madam Pomfrey left, Malfoy yelled quietly at Hermione (quietly enough not to get Madam Pomfrey’s attention), “What the hell is wrong with you, Mudblood?”



Hermione replied, very pleased with herself for being able to see such progress already, "I’m just giving you a taste of what you will experience until you decide to help me.”



Malfoy glared at Hermione as if trying to make her head explode.



Hermione just grinned and thought happily:

‘Wow, this is effective. I've only been annoying him for five minutes and he is almost ready to crack.’



Malfoy, who was extremely annoyed at Hermione, decided to actually go to sleep. However, the second he started to drift off to sleep, Hermione started yelling what sounded like gibberish.



Malfoy’s eyes shot wide open. Hermione was listing all the ingredients in a Polyjuice potion and the instructions for the preperation. Malfoy glared at her, and, once she was in arm’s reach, he tried to punch her. His fist went right through her body. At this, Hermione laughed.



"I will annoy you until you help me,” Hermione stated, quite pleased at how well her plan was working.



“You can't get to me that easily, Mudblood,” Malfoy said, determined not to show how much he was already annoyed with her.



He grabbed his wand and performed a Silencing Charm on her, or so he hoped. Hermione raised an eyebrow at him.



“You think that a spell will hit me when nothing else touches me?” Hermione asked, looking at him, smiling rather too cockily (or so Draco thought), with her hands on her hips.



Malfoy glared at her again and replied, “It was worth a shot. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go to sleep.”



Hermione decided not to wake him up again until after he had fallen asleep because it made for greater annoyance (and anger) on Malfoy’s part if she woke him up after just falling asleep than just keeping him awake. She looked around, trying to decide what to do. When she saw the curtains surrounding her bed, an idea hit her.



Hermione rushed over to her bed and walked through the curtains. She saw her body, and thought that she was just happy Voldemort didn't have Harry, and that she was alive, if barely. She took a deep breath and carried on with her plan. She laid down in her body for a moment, then sat up.



“I hope this works,” Hermione whispered.



She closed her eyes and turned around. Hermione counted to three silently before opening her eyes. Her heart filled with disappointment. Hermione hoped that by lying in her body, her spirit would become one with her body again, but it hadn’t worked.



‘I guess I’ll just have to bother Draco until he helps me,’ Hermione thought desperately. Then with a sudden flash of humour, she thought, ‘actually, this could be rather fun. What other time could I bother him with no consequences?’



At this thought, she perked up. If she really needed to, Hermione knew just what to think to make herself feel better, if only a little. Sometimes, she’d have busied herself with a book, which she couldn’t do.



Hermione got up, walked over, and sat on the bed next to Draco’s. She saw he was fast asleep. Right before waking him up, she decided to study the face of the boy who almost killed Dumbledore. Harry had told her everything, including his own theory that Malfoy wouldn’t have killed Dumbledore if Maligo didn’t come in. Malfoy was still as arrogant as ever, but he did join the Order, even if it was with many objections to being in the same house as Harry, Hermione, and Ron.



Even though he was on their side, he acted like nothing had changed, especially with his fellow Slytherins. Because Malfoy’s behaviour towards Harry, Ron, and Hermione didn’t change, they didn’t change their dislike or enmity towards him.



‘That figures,’ Hermione thought to herself, looking at Malfoy’s expression. ‘He even smirks in his sleep.' And then, with a sudden decisiveness, ‘Time to wake up that git Malfoy.’



“Malfoy! Malfoy! Wake up!” Hermione yelled. Then she said everything she knew about trolls, including a history and their position in the magical community now and at various times in history.



Malfoy woke up, startled and furious.



“What the bloody hell is wrong with you, Granger? Let me sleep!” Malfoy yelled, with complete hatred for the witch who wouldn't let him sleep. It was not entirely his fault that he was so irritated: without sleep, all Malfoys became very grumpy without, so Draco just blamed it on genetics.



Hermione smiled at him serenly and told him, yet again, “I will let you sleep, but only if you help me.”



Malfoy glared at her, but didn’t say anything because he saw Madam Pomfrey walking through the door after hearing him yelling.



Madam Pomfrey looked at him, concerned, and asked, "Are you all right?”



Malfoy replied quickly, “I'm fine, just having trouble sleeping.”



Madam Pomfrey asked kindly, “Would you like a sleeping drought, dear?”



Malfoy answered, smirking in Hermione’s direction, ”Yes, please.”



Madam Pomfrey gave Malfoy a sleeping drought and he fell immediately into a dreamless sleep. Hermione knew it would be hopeless to try and wake him, so she decided to sleep herself. She would need to be well rested to annoy Malfoy all day tomorrow.



Malfoy woke first. He saw the light streaming in through the window. ‘What a weird dream,’ Malfoy thought to himself. ‘Why would I dream about Granger of all people?’



Deciding to shake off the horrible nightmare he had, Malfoy sat up, not feeling sore at all. The disgusting potion was worth it. Malfoy stretched his arms and looked over to the left. He nearly fell out of the bed with shock. Sleeping in the bed next to him was the bookworm herself; her hair even frizzier than before, if that was possible. She was sleeping peacefully, but he knew that things were going to be very unpleasant when she awoke. As quietly as possible, he got dressed in his robes, and tiptoed over to the medi-witch. She told him he was free to go, so he quietly left the Hospital Wing, and ran as fast as he could to the dungeons. Once he was safely in his common room, he wanted to take a shower and change into fresh robes.



Hermione’s eyes fluttered open. She was on her side, facing to her right, where she saw an empty bed. ‘No!’ Hermione thought. ‘He’s already left!’ Frowning, she slowly got up, still a little sleepy. Once she had fully woken up, she went through the closed door (which still freaked her out a little, as she was still afraid that she would hit the door instead of going through it). Hermione walked through the castle and tried to figure out where Malfoy would have gone, and how long he had been gone. She decided her best bet would be to go to the Great Hall, for he would have to eat eventually. She walked into the Great Hall and started for the Gryffindor table. ‘No,’ Hermione reprimanded herself sternly; ‘You have to go to the Slytherin table to annoy Malfoy so you can eat with your friends.’She changed her direction and headed over to the Slytherin table. She didn’t see Malfoy, and so she waited. Hermione stared at the doors to the Great Hall for what seemed like ages. But after fifteen minutes of patient waiting, he walked through. He didn’t see her (yet) so he sat down with his cronies.



Hermione slid through the five people that separated her from Malfoy. His eyes widened in horror at the sight before him. Hermione smiled.



“You didn't think you could get rid of me that easily, did you?” she asked, smiling.



Malfoy merely ignored her. He knew if he answered, he would get some strange looks.



Pansy Parkinson walked into the Great Hall. She saw her precious Drakey-poo and knew he missed her company, so went over to him quickly. She sat down right on top of Hermione, which Malfoy laughed at, but turned it into a coughing fit when Pansy looked at him strangely. Hermione quickly slid over to the left of Pansy, disgusted that she was even that close to her.



At this, Pansy asked in a voice dipped in sugar (at least she thought so), “Are you okay Drakey-poo?”



At hearing this, Hermione burst into a fit of laughter.



“Drakey-poo?” Hermione asked in disbelief at such a ridiculous nickname.



Malfoy glowered, then glared at Pansy and told her in a tone that would have made hell itself freeze over, “Never call me that again, Parkinson.”



Clearly afraid, Pansy replied, shamefully, “I'm sorry, Draco, I forgot.” She hung her head.



Hermione couldn't believe this. “Imagine that,” Hermione spoke loudly, “Pug-faced Parkinson can actually get uglier by sticking her fat lip out. She looks even more pug-like than usual!”



Malfoy started laughing loudly at this, mostly because it was true. He received several looks of confusion from other members at the Slytherin table. Most must’ve been thinking he had hit his head when he fell.



Potions was starting soon, and Malfoy wasn't going to be late. He grabbed his book bag and headed toward the dungeons with Hermione following behind, yelling different levitating charms and their techniques.



Malfoy walked faster, but Hermione stayed in step, eternally persistent. Malfoy walked into the Potions room and sat at the table closest to the Professor’s desk. After all, he was teacher's pet (in this class, anyway). Hermione frowned when she saw Harry and Ron walk in together, talking about Quidditch, as usual. She felt tears that wanted to come out. She blinked them back. She would not cry, even if her friends seemed to have gotten over the fact that she was unconscious in the Hospital Wing. She had to focus, to reunite her soul and body. While she was thinking about all this, Professor Maligio walked in and the room fell silent for he was even crueller than Professor Snape, although he seemed to take a similar liking to Malfoy and similar distaste to Harry. However, Professor Maligo did not have the same grease problem as Snape, and he was actually quite handsome, when his face wasn’t scrunched up like he had been sucking on a lemon, which it unfortunately usually was.



Professor Maligo assigned the class to make a Draught of Living Death, individually. With a wave of his wand, the instructions appeared on the board. Malfoy immediately started. Hermione watched him.



“You're doing that wrong, you know,” Hermione informed Malfoy.



“What, exactly?” Malfoy asked under his breath, as not to raise suspicions of his sanity.



“You’re slicing the sopohorous beans, while you should be getting the juice out of them,” Hermione told him, fully living up to her know-it-all reputation.



Malfoy rolled his eyes, but ended up squishing the beans to get the juice. Later on, when he was stirring, Hermione interrupted him again.



“You're doing it wrong again,” she told him.



“What am I doing wrong now?” Malfoy asked, annoyed and forgetting to lower his voice, for which a couple of people looked at him oddly.



“You're stirring clockwise, instead of counterclockwise, which is why your steam is green instead of blue,” Hermione informed him.



He again followed her directions, still agitated that he was wrong and she was right.



“You forgot something,” Hermione chimed in less than five minutes later.



“What?” Malfoy asked through gritted teeth, he was extremely annoyed at her correcting him every five seconds. Several students around him looked at the angry Malfoy, wondering what was wrong with him.



“You forgot to add the lovage. If you look at your potion, you should see a black currant colour, getting slightly lighter due to stirring, but yours is a forest green. If you add the lovage now, it will turn out fine,” Hermione informed him smugly. He didn't seem to be able to do any of the potion correctly.



Grudgingly, Malfoy did what Hermione told him. When he finished (or so he thought), his potion was a very light shade of lilac that was transparent.



When he stopped stirring, Hermione asked, “Why did you stop?



Malfoy replied, quietly, “I'm done.”



Hermione laughed and said, “Does that look like water?”



Confused, Malfoy replied slightly louder, “No…why?”



“Because,” Hermione explained, “when the Draught of Living Death is finished, it is meant to be as 'clear as water', so continue stirring.”



Malfoy was really being pushed to the brink by Hermione's badgering and constant corrections. He yelled at her in frustration, “Fine!” He then started stirring roughly, sloshing his potion everywhere.



When Malfoy yelled, everyone in the class, including Maligo, stared at him, wondering what was wrong with the blonde Slytherin. The wonder increased when he started madly stirring the potion.



“Mister Malfoy,” Maligo called, “Come with me into the hall.”



When Professor Maligo addressed him, Malfoy realized that he had yelled at Hermione, when no one but him could see her. When he walked out, Hermione, of course, followed.



Maligo looked at his favourite Slytherin with concern and asked, “What's wrong, Draco?”



Malfoy knew he couldn't tell Maligo, so he lied (something he was very good at), “Nothing, Professor.”



“Then why did you yell ‘fine'?” Maligo asked, his face scrunched up.



Malfoy was not expecting this question and made up a not very good lie to try and cover it. "Because I was arguing with myself as to whether I should hand in my potion now, or to perfect it. I decided on perfecting it, and I didn't realize that I said anything aloud.”



“I'm sure he'll believe that,” Hermione commented sarcastically.



“Shut up, Granger!” Malfoy yelled.



Maligo stared at Malfoy, worried, and asked, “Draco, why did you yell at Granger when she isn't even here?”



Malfoy had forgotten again that no one but him could see her. However, even he couldn't think of something to cover up this one.



Maligo suggested, “You should go to the Hospital Wing.”



Malfoy went back in the classroom, gathered his things, and then went to walk the halls, instead of going to the Hospital Wing as he had been instructed.



“What's wrong, Drakey-poo?” Hermione asked, in fake concern.



Draco stopped walking.



“If I agree to help you, will you leave me alone?” Draco asked suddenly.



“Yes,” Hermione answered simply.



“Fine,” Malfoy told her. “I will help you.”

“Fine,” Malfoy told her, “I will help you.”





Hermione smiled. She told him, “Thank you. Meet me in the library on Saturday at eight in the morning. Eat breakfast first.” 





Malfoy looked at her, confused. “I thought you would want to start right away.” 





“I made you look crazy, the least I can do is give you a couple of days of peace before taking up all your free time. I’ll see you in the library on Saturday. Bye, Malfoy.” 





Hermione turned and walked through a wall. She didn’t know what she would do in the meantime, but she would get the help she needed in a couple of days. 





*~*~*~* 



 

Hermione strode into the library at seven-thirty. She wanted to look at book titles before Malfoy came in. She wouldn’t be able to use him as long as she wanted (all day and well into the night). After seeing a few books that looked promising and memorizing their location, Hermione saw that it was 8:03 on the clock in the library above her favorite table. She looked around for Malfoy and found him after two minutes (it would have been shorter had he not been looking for her as well). 



 

“There you are!” Hermione exclaimed, and then instructed him, “Follow me.” 



 

Malfoy did as he was told, hoping not to be in here too long. She pointed to several books and he took them from their proper places. 



 

“Can you read all this in one day, Granger?” Malfoy asked after she pointed out the twenty-seventh book (but hey, who’s counting). 



 

Because of all the books, Malfoy had made four stacks, each going up to his waist. 



 

After handing Malfoy another book, Hermione replied, “Of course, these will be done by lunch.” 



 

Malfoy gave her a skeptical look, but took one stack to the table she led him to. He made three more trips to get all the books. Once he settled down in a chair, Hermione immediately started. 



 

“All right, Malfoy,” Hermione instructed him, “Take Obscure Magical Maladies and open it to the index.” 



 

Malfoy followed instructions and when she leaned over his shoulder, he felt immediately uncomfortable. ’Probably just being too close to a Mudblood,’ Malfoy thought to himself. 



 

Hermione’s voice brought him out of his reassuring thoughts. “Turn to page five-hundred and sixty-three.” 



 

He flipped to the page she had specified. The chapter was titled Spirits Leaving the Body. Hermione’s eyes quickly darted over the two open pages. 



 

“Turn,” Hermione directed him. 



 

Malfoy followed her orders again. Soon he was able to tell when she was done and they fell into a rhythm. When lunchtime rolled around Hermione had already looked through twenty-seven of the books. Hermione was about to look through the last when Malfoy’s stomach growled loudly. 



 

“I guess its time for you to go to lunch,” Hermione said, slightly distracted as she was contemplating what the last book had meant. 



 

“No, I’m fine really,” Malfoy insisted, but his voice was followed by another loud rumble. 



 

“Go,” Hermione told him. “I need time to pick out more books.” 



 

Draco quickly got up and left to eat a quick lunch. 





Hermione sighed and continued looking for books. She found many more, but if all the books were like the ones she already found, she would be stuck. ‘Hermione! Don’t think that!’ she told herself, ‘If you do, you’ll never get back. You need to keep your hopes up.’ She shook off all her worries and continued searching. As Hermione was looking at a title, Magical Mysteries Throughout History, she wanted to read the back to find out if she needed it. She would have to wait for Draco to get back in order to read it. In the meantime, she decided to glare at the book for having a vague title, having nothing better to do. 





Malfoy hurried back to the library and looked around for Hermione. What he saw made him burst into laughter. Hermione looked as if she was having a staring contest with a book. 



 

Startled at the laughing, Hermione turned to look and see whom it belonged to. ‘Of course, it has to be Malfoy, since no one else can see me, idiot,’ she thought to herself. ‘Plus, who else would catch me doing something embarrassing like glaring at an inanimate object?’ she thought, blushing as she realized how stupid she must have looked. 



 

Draco wiped tears from his eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he laughed this hard. He thought to himself, ‘I also can’t remember the last time someone so smart did something so stupid.’ 





“Are you done?” Hermione asked angrily. She did not like being laughed at. 



 

“Just about,” Draco replied, still chuckling. 



 

“Good. Now, get down this book so that I can read the back,” she ordered him while pointing at the cause for her embarrassment. 



 

Malfoy reached for the book and turned it so she could read the summary. 



 

Hermione growled and said to no one in particular, (well, maybe the book, but she wasn’t going to say that to Malfoy), “That’s absolutely no help at all. Open it up.” 



 

Malfoy did as he was told and opened to the index, knowing that that was what she wanted. He was about to turn it around to show her when he saw she wasn’t there. He looked around and was surprised to see her standing...in him. He stared at her momentarily until she looked at him in return. 



 

“Oh, sorry,” Hermione apologized, blushing yet again. “I was just impatient to find if this book would help or not. It won’t, so you can put it back.” 





Draco walked toward the bookshelf, partly to put up the book, partly to get farther away from Hermione. It was creepy for her to be in him. It made him think things that shouldn’t be thought about a know-it-all Mudblood. 





Shaking this off, he looked toward where Hermione was standing and saw she wasn’t there. Turning around, he saw her at the bookshelf behind him. 



 

Hermione showed him a bunch more books and Malfoy carried them back to the table they had used earlier. Instead of just turning the pages for Hermione, Draco opened up his own book and started searching. 



 

Confused, Hermione asked, “What are you doing?” 





Malfoy looked up and replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “Helping.” 



 

Hermione stared at him a moment and replied, “Thank you, Draco.” 



 

Surprised, Draco asked, “What did you call me?” 



 

“Malfoy. I called you Malfoy.” Hermione said quickly, trying to reassure herself as much as Drac…Malfoy.



 

“No, you didn’t. You called me Draco,” insisted Draco.



 

“So what if I did?” asked Hermione, trying to sound unruffled.



 

“Nothing. It’s just weird, Hermione,” said Draco, attempting to sound equally calm.



 

“No, that’s weird,” said Hermione, confused. “Why are you calling me Hermione?” 



 

“Same reason you’re calling me Draco,” answered Draco, shrugging.



 

Hermione smiled. This meant a truce between them, at least until she was back to normal. 



 

At least, that’s what she hoped it meant.



 

*~*~*~*



 

They continued researching until it was time for Draco to go and eat dinner. 



 

Hermione said, “Have a nice dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow, same time.” 



 

Draco replied, smiling, “Tomorrow.” 



 

*~*~*~* 



 

“We’ve been researching a month,” Hermione complained. 





“Believe me, I know. I haven’t done anything but research,” Draco groaned. 



 

“I think we’ve read the whole library on anything remotely relating to this topic.” 



 

“Probably.” 



 

“I’m never going to get back to my body.” 



 

“You will. Don’t give up. I’ll think of something.” 



 

Hermione looked at Draco with a sad, puppy-dog look. She looked as if she might start crying. 



 

Draco said the first thing that came to mind. “Let’s go check on your body.” 



 

Hermione looked at him as if he were crazy. “What?” 



 

“You heard me. Let’s go,” said Draco, beckoning.



 

He had already started walking, so Hermione had no choice but to follow. This would be the first time she saw her body since the day that she had...died? She was so scared that she began to shake. Draco turned to look at her and stopped. 



 

“Are you okay?” 



 

“Yea, I’m fine. Just a little nervous,” said Hermione, looking scared.





Draco continued walking, although a little slower, with more frequent glances at Hermione. Soon (too soon for Hermione’s liking) they reached the Hospital Wing. 



 

“Are you ready for this?” Draco asked, worried about Hermione, who looked as if she might have a nervous breakdown any minute. 



 

“Yea, I’m just a little scared,” Hermione replied honestly. “I’m scared that my body won’t be any better, and I’ll be stuck here, in between living and dead, forever.” 



 

“Your body will be better. Trust me,” Draco told her reassuringly. 



 

She did trust him. He was the only human contact she’d had for the past month. No matter who it is, you grow on them, even your ex-enemy. 



 

He pushed open the door to the Hospital Wing and asked Madam Pomfrey if he could see Hermione.



 

Madam Pomfrey asked Malfoy, confused, "How do you know about her?"



 

Draco replied, "I saw her the night after the Quidditch game and when I had those injuries from falling. Don't you remember?"



 

Madame Pomfrey crossed her arms and replied, slightly annoyed, "Yes, I remember, but I thought you didn't."



 

"Ummm," Draco started nervously.



 

"Well, you already know, so you might as well see her," Madam Pomfrey said hesitantly.



  

He and Hermione walked over to her bed, and he pulled back the curtains. Hermione gasped. She was completely healed, except for the spirit and body being separated, but other than that, she was perfectly fine. She smiled at her lifeless body. This meant she was recovering, therefore, she might return to her body without magical help. 



 

Draco was speechless seeing her. It was incredibly strange to see two Hermione’s. It wasn’t as bad anymore, now that they were, dare he think it, friends? 



 

Draco suddenly got an idea. 



 

“Hermione, turn around.” 





Confused, Hermione did as she was told. Draco picked up her hand and held it. Hermione looked at her hand, confused at the warmth suddenly coming from her hand. 



 

“There’s something weird with my hand. It suddenly feels warm,” Hermione told Draco, still with her back to him. 



 

“Turn back around,” Draco told her, not letting go of her hand. 



 

Hermione turned as he asked and saw him holding her hand. 



 

She cried out in utter happiness, “I can feel you! This must mean I’m getting better. I’ll probably be back in my body in no time. We won’t have needed the library!” 



 

Draco gently placed Hermione’s hand back on the bed. He then called out to Madam Pomfrey, “How is she?” 



 

Madam Pomfrey walked closer to him and replied, “She is in perfect health...” 



 

At this Hermione smiled wider and her hopes soared. 



 

Madam Pomfrey continued, “... however, I can’t figure out why she won’t wake up. Watch.” 



 

She pulled out her wand and spoke clearly, “Ennervate.” 



 

Nothing happened. Hermione’s body didn’t stir. 



 

“This is what confuses me. Ennervate only doesn’t work when the person is too terribly injured, which she isn’t, or dead. But she isn’t dead either. I’ve given her every potion I have that would wake her, but none have worked. I can’t figure out why.” 



 

By the end of this speech, Hermione looked as if she were about to start crying. Draco noticed this and knew he had to get Madam Pomfrey to leave (otherwise if he tried to console her, Madam Pomfrey be very confused). 



 

“Thanks, but could I be alone with her for a little while?” 



 

Madam Pomfrey smiled at the Slytherin. They needed more house unity, especially during times like these. “Absolutely. But you have to leave in ten minutes.” 



 

Draco nodded and Madam Pomfrey left. He quickly turned his attention to the shell-shocked Hermione. 



 

“It’ll be okay,” Draco told her. 



 

She looked up at him with watery eyes. “No, it won’t. We’ve already searched the whole library.” 





“We haven’t looked in the restricted section.” 



 

“I have. There isn’t anything that could be of any use.” 



 

“We’ll just have to look again,” Draco insisted. He wasn’t going to let her give up hope. 



 

“We’ve already looked again. And again. And again! We’re not going to find anything.” 



 

At this point she started sobbing. 



 

Draco hated tears. He knew there was no other choice. 



 

“We’re going to see the Headmistress.” 



 

Hermione looked up at him, tears still running down her face. “What?” 



 

“You heard me. We’re going to see the Headmistress,” Draco replied insistently. 



 

Hermione looked at him, nonplussed. “What can Professor McGonagal do?” 



 

“I don’t know. That’s why we’re going to see her. Because I don’t know what to do, and you’ve given up on the library. This is our last chance.” 



 

“Our?” Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows slightly. 



 

“Your. I said, ‘Your’,” Draco replied hastily. 



 

“All right,” Hermione said. She had finally stopped crying and started wiping the tears away. 



 

“Come on. Let’s go.” 



 

Draco ushered her out of the Hospital Wing, fearing that staying in there longer would mean more tears. 



 

They walked to the Headmistress’s office. They stood outside by the gargoyle for a moment before Draco took a deep breath and hesitantly knocked on the gargoyle. He knew coming here might make him look as if he had gone insane, but he needed to do this. 



 

The gargoyle leapt aside as a muffled ‘Come in’ was heard. They both stepped onto the spiraling staircase. The ride up seemed to last an eternity, both dreading what was about to occur. He again knocked on the door right outside Professor McGonagall’s office. This time a clearer, ‘Come in’ was heard. 



 

Draco opened the door and they both stepped through. Proffesor McGonagall looked at him in surprise. 





“Mister Malfoy! What do I owe this encounter to?” 



 

Draco replied hesitantly, “I have a problem...” 

Draco replied hesitantly, “I have a problem...”





Professor McGonagall looked at Draco; curious as to what problem he could have that he would come to her with.





“Go on, Mister Malfoy.”





Draco sighed and began telling the story of the past month. Professor McGonagall didn’t interrupt him, but waited for him to finish.





“... And so, that’s basically it. Do you know how to fix this?” asked Draco.





Professor McGonagall was speechless. She thought he was just making this up... or maybe he was crazy.





“Mister Malfoy, now isn’t the time to make up stories.”





Draco gaped at her and then quickly defended himself. “I’m not making this up!”





The Headmistress looked at the young man.





'It’s a shame what stress does to them, especially in their seventh year,' she thought to herself.





“Mister Malfoy, just sit right here. I’ll contact someone from St. Mungo’s to come get you as soon as they can.”





Draco looked horrified. “I’m not crazy! I swear! Ask me something only Granger would know. She’s in here with me.”





Professor McGonagall sighed and decided to go along with this little game.





“What is Miss Granger’s Patronus?”





Hermione told Draco the answer quickly. “It’s an otter.”





Draco repeated the answer to the Headmistress.





The Headmistress replied, “Well, you could have seen her conjure it at any time. What is Miss Granger’s middle name?”





Hermione said, “Jane.”





Draco repeated her answer to the Headmistress again.





Professor McGonagall still didn’t believe him. “That was a lucky guess. Jane is a common name. This one you definitely won’t get unless you’re telling the truth. What did I give Miss Granger in her third year?”





Hermione told Draco, “A time-turner.”





Draco looked at Hermione curiously. “A time-turner? I’ve never even heard of them.”





The Headmistress stared at Draco as if he had just grown a third head. “You really can see her!”





Draco rolled his eyes. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you for the past ten minutes. Do you know how to get her back in her body?”





Now that McGonagall knew that Draco wasn’t lying or crazy, she was clueless as to what to do. She wondered what Albus would’ve done.





“That’s it!” exclaimed McGonagall.





“What’s it?” Draco asked.





“Follow me, Mister Malfoy, and you too, Miss Granger, wherever you are,” McGonagall ordered.





She took off at a brisk pace. Draco and Hermione had to jog to keep up with her.





“Where are we going?” Draco asked after five minutes.





McGonagall didn’t answer but after she took one last left and stopped at the end of the hall in front of Professor Dumbledore’s portrait.





McGonagall turned to Draco, “I don’t have any idea what to do. I think that only Professor Dumbledore could help you.” She sniffed and added, “But he’s dead. This is just as good. Tell him what you told me. I’m sure he can help you.”





Draco looked up at the life-size painting of Dumbledore. The painting was amazing and captured him perfectly, down to the twinkling blue eyes. Draco told his (or rather Hermione’s) story again. After he was done Dumbledore chuckled.





Draco looked at him, nonplussed. “What’s so funny?”





Dumbledore stopped laughing and replied, “You shall soon see. I’ve only heard of this sort of occurrence once before. A boy fell off his broomstick from fifty feet in the air. We thought for sure that he would die, but he didn’t. He remained in a coma for four months. A girl came to me claiming that she, too, was the only one who could see him. When they came to me, I didn’t know what to tell them, or rather her. I was surprised because she really disliked him, and I knew she wouldn’t make up something like that. But when she did come to me, I could tell that they weren’t in the same relationship as before. She came to me three and a half months into his coma, right when they were about to give up. Two weeks later he miraculously woke up. I asked her how she managed to get him to wake up. She told me, ‘I realized something I should’ve realized a long time ago. If this had never happened, if fate hadn’t intervened, I would live a very different life, a life not fulfilled.’ I’ll let you figure out what she meant.”





Hermione stared at Dumbledore and then glanced at Draco. “Ask him who the students were.”





Draco, being the translator, told Dumbledore, “Hermione wants to know whom the students were.”





Dumbledore smiled and replied, “Lily and James Potter.”





Draco was shocked. “You mean Potter’s parents?”





Dumbledore smiled again and nodded.





“What are you saying that we should do, Professor?” Draco asked.





Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. “You’ll figure it out when the time is right.”





Draco gave him a look that seemed to say, “Are you kidding me?”





Dumbledore looked at Draco, and said, “You two had best be off. You need to get Hermione back into her body. Let’s see if you can do it faster then they did. Besides, I need to make an appearance in my portrait in Minerva’s office.”





Hermione and Draco walked away and as soon as they were out of the corridor containing Dumbledore’s portrait, Draco complained to Hermione, “Why does he always have to be so cryptic? Couldn’t he ever just come out and say something?”





Hermione sighed and shook her head, her curly locks flowing out slightly, “That’s just how he is. Plus, once you have figured out his what he meant, you have a better, deeper understanding than if he just told you.”





Draco replied both stubbornly and childishly. “Does not.”





“Does too.”





“Does not.”





“Does too.”





”Does not.”





A voice came from behind Draco, “Are you arguing with yourself, Malfoy? Have you finally lost it?”





Draco turned around to discover Potter and Weasley. He went along with his usual habit of making fun of them.





“Would you look at what the hippogriff dragged in, Pothead and Weaselbreath. Though I’m surprised it was willing to touch you, Weasley.”





Hermione glared at Draco, “Draco! You can’t make fun of my friends.”





Draco decided it might be best to listen to Hermione because she would give him hell later if he didn’t.





Ron was fuming at his little comment though. “Why, you little ferret!”





Harry placed a hand on his shoulder, “He’s not worth it. Think of what Hermione would do.”





At this Ron immediately stopped. He looked at his friend and knew that Harry had a point. The comment about Hermione hit him hard. It had been terrible the past month without her.





Hermione saw the sad expressions cross their faces and was glad that, this time, they had at least noticed she wasn’t there, unlike last time. Her eyes started watering. “You need to tell them that I’m okay, that you can see me.”





Draco looked at her and asked, “Are you crazy?”





Confused, Harry and Ron looked at Draco. Harry asked seriously, “Are you on something?”





Draco smacked his head with his hand, having forgotten (again) that they couldn’t see Hermione, and that only he could. You would think that he’d get used to that by now.





Ron replied to Harry, “I think that means ‘yes’.”





The two started edging away as Hermione looked at Draco with pleading eyes.





“Oh, all right,” Draco said, though only because of her sad, puppy-dog expression. “Potter, Weasley, wait.”





They looked at him, slightly afraid as they thought that he was schizophrenic. They didn’t want to know what the voices had told him to do.





Draco began the speech that he’d told McGonagall and Dumbledore about him being the only person who could see Hermione.





Draco’s words only confirmed Harry and Ron’s belief that Draco had lost his mind, and this was written clearly all over their faces.





“I’ll prove it to you,” Draco told them. “Ask me anything Hermione would know, and I’ll tell you what it is because she’ll tell me seeing as she’s right here.” When he said that, he was pointing to the air where Hermione was, but it was just air to Harry and Ron.





“All right,” Harry spoke up. “How long did Hermione and Ron go out?”





Draco asked Hermione, “You and the Weasel dated?”





Hermione replied, “No! We didn’t! That’s a trick question.”





Draco told Harry and Ron, “That’s a trick question. They never dated.”





Ron replied this time. “Anyone could have guessed that. If we had, the whole school would have been talking about it �“ people love gossip, and anyone who dates is gossiped about. When is Hermione’s birthday?”





Hermione told Draco, “September nineteenth.”





Draco repeated Hermione’s answer to Harry and Ron.





Harry replied, “You could’ve found that out from someone talking about her birthday.” Draco raised an eyebrow at this explanation. Harry continued with another question. “What does S.P.E.W. stand for, when did she start it, and what is her reaction when you call it ‘spew’?”





Hermione glared at Harry. “It’s not ‘spew’! It’s S.P.E.W.! It stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. I started it in our fourth year after I saw how badly the house-elves were being exploited. They’ve been brainwashed into thinking that they like working for free. They just don’t know any better. More need to be like Dobby and be paid.”





Draco repeated this, word for word, to Harry and Ron. After he finished he turned to Hermione and informed her, “They like working, they weren’t brainwashed or anything! Are you talking about Dobby, my old house-elf? He wasn’t right in the head. Have you ever even tried to talk to Dobby?”





Hermione glared at Draco. Draco told Harry and Ron, “And now she’s glaring at me for saying that.”





Harry and Ron turned towards each other, than looked back at Draco. Harry said, “You’re not kidding, she’s really there! Tell her that we miss her.”





Draco chuckled at their reaction. He informed them, “She can hear you perfectly fine, and see you. She just can’t talk to you or touch you.”





Ron asked Hermione rapidly, “Are you okay? Do you feel any pain? Has Malfoy been treating you all right? What happened to put you in a coma?”





Hermione smiled and said, “I’m fine. No, I donn’t feel any pain, not anymore. Draco’s been treating me fine, at least he is now. It took a while at the beginning. Voldemort used the Cruciatus curse on me(that hurt) until I was in that state because I wouldn’t tell him where Harry was.”





Draco repeated what she said to Harry and Ron.





After they absorbed this, Harry asked the question that was eating away at all four of their brains. “Why is Malfoy the only one who can see you?”





Hermione sighed and replied, “I don’t know.”





Draco repeated what she had said and added, “Neither do I, nor does McGonagall, and if Dumbledore knows, he’s not letting on.”





Harry stiffened at the mention of Dumbledore’s name. “You saw Dumbledore?”





Draco kicked himself mentally. “Not in person, we talked to his portrait.”





Harry asked eagerly, “Where is it?”





Hermione begged Draco, “Don’t tell him! He won’t leave there if you do. It will ruin him to see his portrait. Don’t tell him, not now. He’s not ready.”





Draco agreed with Hermione on this one. “I can’t tell you.”





Harry looked like he wanted to rip Draco’s head off, “What! Why not?”





Draco replied, paraphrasing what Hermione had said, “It will tear you up inside. Don’t do this to yourself.”





Harry glared angrily at Malfoy. “Like you know what’s best for me!”





Draco shot back, “Hermione told me not to tell you.”





Harry’s look softened. “Hermione, did you really say that? You really don’t want me to see him?”





Hermione felt bad but told Draco what to say.





“Yes, it will kill you. You won’t leave him and you won’t get over him. You need to heal, and you can’t do that if you visit his portrait frequently. Please, just wait until you’re ready to visit him.”





Harry nodded and didn’t press any further on the location of his mentor’s location.





Draco felt the situation growing awkward and decided it was time to leave. “Well, we had better get going. We have to figure out how to get Hermione back in her body.”





Harry enquired, “Where do you plan to figure this out?”





Draco replied, exhausted by the very thought of it, “The library.”





Harry chuckled. That was just like Hermione. If there was any problem, even if, such as in this case, it was potentially life threatening, she would look for the answer in her trusty library. ‘If it’s not in a book, then it’s not worth knowing,’ may as well be her motto.





Ron spoke up. “You two had better get going, then. There are a lot of books to research in there. Bye!”





Then Harry and Ron ran off quickly, not really wanting to research. Although they later felt a little guilty, they knew that Hermione and Draco were researching and decided that that should be enough.





Hermione and Draco headed off to the library yet again. Instead of looking for books, she walked immediately to her favorite table. She tried to sit down and lean back in the chair, but she fell through the chair.





Draco chuckled at her. “Did you forget that you just fall through things?”





In response Hermione glared at Draco, but a smile couldn’t help but form on her lips. Soon she started laughing. The two of them started laughing uncontrollably. Their laughing grew so loud that the librarian came over and glared at Draco. Draco quickly suppressed his laughter, but Madam Pince continued to glare and threaten Draco with her feather duster, at which Draco had to fight even harder to suppress his laughter, which was threatening to explode.





As soon as she left, the two of them burst out laughing again.





Draco, panting slightly as he tried to get his laughter back under control, told Hermione, “I’d help you up, but given the circumstances...”





Hermione, cutting him off, replied as she got up, “It’s fine. It’s sweet of you to offer, though, and that’s what really matters.”





Draco gave her a genuine smile, instead of his usual smirk. Hermione smiled in return. She had never known that he had such a great smile.





She looked over Draco’s shoulder and saw something. Hermione walked right through him to go over to the bookshelf. Hermione looked at the tiny brown notebook wedged between two incredibly thick volumes of a series detailing the numerous properties of various dragon organs.





“Draco, could you come over here?” Hermione asked him looking at the peculiar, titleless book that she had never noticed before.





Draco, incredibly confused, walked over to where Hermione was standing. He noticed the book she was looking at and pried it out from between the enormous volumes. He held it so both he and Hermione could read it and opened to the first page.





It read:





“This journal belongs to Lily Evans. These are my experiences with a magic hardly anyone has encountered. This magic deals with limbo, and when only one person spots these spirits. I assume that one day in the future someone will encounter this strange magic again. I hope my experiences can help you.”

It read:

“This journal belongs to Lily Evans. These are my experiences with a magic that hardly anyone has encountered. This magic deals with limbo, and when only one person can spot these spirits. I assume that one day in the future someone will encounter this strange magic again. I hope that my experiences help you.”

Hermione gasped. “This is just what we need!”

Draco nodded, but he had a contemplating look on his face. Hermione, being very observant, noticed this quickly.

“What’s wrong?” she asked curiously.

“Don’t you think it’s odd that right after we talk to Dumbledore and he tells us that Lily and James Potter went through this, we find Lily’s diary?” Draco said, questioning the odd coincidence.

Hermione blinked several times. Now that he mentioned this, it seemed very odd indeed.

“I suppose we shall never know, or at least not in the near future,” Hermione replied after a few moments.

With that, they continued to read the diary:

“September 13, 1975

Dear Diary,

The big Quidditch match is coming up tomorrow, Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw. They won the Quidditch cup last year. I’m kind of hoping we lose, because every time that we wi, it inflates James’ ego so much and he bugs me to go out with him even more than usual. But you can’t tell anyone that: I’d get murdered by my own house, Head Girl or not.

I had thought James couldn’t get any more annoying with his constant date proposals, but I was wrong. Today he ambushed me with his friends there for backup and he started serenading me in the Great Hall during dinner, with his friends helping! I was so humiliated. Why can’t he just get a hint! I don’t like him and I never will. I’ve made this perfectly clear: I stopped being nice about it long ago. Somehow, it just won’t get through his thick head. Just because every other girl in the school wants to go out with him, doesn’t mean I do. I think he’s a pompous, arrogant, conceited, trouble-making, big-headed bafoon with an ego the size of Russia..”

Hermione paused her reading, and commented, “Sound familiar?”

Draco replied, “You don’t get in trouble, though.”

Hermione shot him a glare, but couldn’t help smiling. Draco gave her a big grin and she rolled her eyes at him as she continued reading.

“...I think that’s enough ranting about James Potter for one night. I need to go to sleep now so I don’t look like a raccoon in the morning.”

After the two finished reading this entry, Draco commented, “I thought this was supposed to help us.”

Hermione, needing to be optimistic for the sake of her sanity, replied, “It will, later. I’m sure of it.”

“September 14, 1975

Dear Diary,

The Quidditch match was today. Good news, Ravenclaw won! Bad news, James fell off his broom from fifty feet! We all thought he was dead. Thankfully, he survived, but is still unconscious. I know I complain about him a lot, but I didn’t want this to happen to him! I just wanted him to come to his senses and stop asking me out. I really hope he’s okay. I have to go and console the other Gryffindor girls right now: just imagine how they must feel. I feel sorry for him despite my absolutely hating him, and they loved him (or so they say). My shoulders are going to be soggy for weeks.”

“September 15, 1975

Dear Diary,

I think I’m losing my mind. I was in the common room and I saw James. I was concerned because he had fallen fifty feet just two days before so I was polite and asked him how he was.

He told me, ‘I’m great; especially since the beautiful Lily Evans is talking to me! Want to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?’

Annoyed, I told him, ‘Just because you fall fifty feet from a broom playing a dangerous sport does not mean I’ll go out with you.’

He winked at me and said, ‘Cut me some slack! I fall from that height and make it out alive just for you, and you won’t even give me a date?’

‘Exactly.’

Then Sirius came down from the boy’s dormitories and asked me who I was talking to. I told him that it was James and pointed to where James was standing who was trying to tell his best friend discretely, but not successfully. Sirius didn’t even notice James. I told him I was talking to James and he looked at me like I had grown another head!

He then proceeded to tell me, ‘Lily, James has been in the Hospital Wing the past two days, and is still there. Madam Pomfrey doesn’t know when he’s going to wake up. You must have liked him more than you let on if you think you’re talking to him.’ He shook his head and walked back upstairs.

I looked at James who looked just as nonplussed as I and asked him, ‘Why didn’t he notice you?’ James simply shrugged.

Then I reached over to pat him on the arm (to console him for his best friend blatantly ignoring him, not any… other reason) and my hand went through his arm. We both stared at my hand for a good minute before I shrieked and ran up to my room. Now I’m here, still shaking about this. I think I’m completely insane.”

Draco and Hermione looked at each other. Hermione broke out in a big grin and tried to give Draco a hug, but ended up falling through him. She groaned while Draco laughed.

Hermione scowled and grumbled, “That’s not funny.”

Draco fought to keep the smile off his face but failed and replied, “You’re right, it’s not funny. It’s hilarious!”

Still scowling, Hermione got up and went back to the journal. “Shut up and keep reading.”

“September 20, 1975

Dear Diary,

Since the last time I wrote here, I’ve gone to the Hospital Wing to visit James. And the James that I can see and talk to came with me, trying to get a date (big shock, I know). When I got there, I went over to James’ body, and when the other James saw his own body, he paled so much that he actually looked like a ghost. I was afraid he was going to pass out.

‘James?’ I asked tentatively. ‘Are you okay?’

He looked at me and mumbled, ‘That explains so much.’

I didn’t even want to bother figuring that one out. He looked up at me with pleading eyes and asked me to help him. I couldn’t say no, but I made him promise that he couldn’t ask me out while I was helping him. He sighed, contemplating this deal, and went with it. I suppose he figured out that he could just ask me again after he was back in his body.

Just so you know, I don’t find any of this normal. I’m still questioning my sanity, but have decided that this is somehow a way that I’m dealing with his comatose state. You don’t buy that either, do you?

Since the Hospital Wing, I’ve been spending all of my free time dedicated to helping James get back in his body. How, you may ask? First I tested everything he could and couldn’t do. Turns out all he can do is be seen by me and me alone and talk to me and me alone (oh, joy). Since then, I’ve looked at every book in the library that I could get my hands on that could possibly be related to this subject, and I’ll tell you, it’s not helping. But I’m sure we’ll find something soon, otherwise he’ll drive me crazy with talk of Quidditch. My friends are scared of what I’m doing, however. Luckly, I’ve managed to convince them that I’m already studying for our N.E.W.T.’s and they believe me. I better do my homework now, I’m starting to fall behind on it which is fairly ironic because I am spending all my time in the library.”

“October 11, 1975

Dear Diary,

I’m sorry that I haven’t written in a while, but I’ve been so busy with researching. We haven’t found anything of use yet! James is proving to be very helpful and is actually quite nice to talk to when he’s not talking about Quidditch or annoying me and asking me out, which he has kept his word to and hasn’t asked me since that day in the Hospital Wing. I feel so bad for him, I asked him what he does when I’m at meals or doing homework or sleeping and he told me that he just watches people, sees what they do, especially his friends and sees what prank they’re planning. When he told me this, he looked so sad! I just wanted to give him a hug, but I couldn’t, otherwise I’d fall through him. I really hope we find something soon so he can talk with his friends and play Quidditch, which I know he misses.

I have to go, James told me where his invisibility cloak is and I’m sneaking down to the library to do more research. I never thought I’d break the rules, especially for James Potter!”

“October 31, 1975

Dear Diary,

This is so frustrating! I hate the library! How could it fail me now, of all times? We’ve looked at everything! Even in the restricted section. We’re going to keep looking, though, and hopefully we’ll find something. If not, well, I don’t even want to think about that. Poor James! I hope he hasn’t been thinking about that, but of course he has. It is his life. I really hope we find something.

We’ve talked a lot and he’s actually a really nice guy. Once he stops acting cool to impress people, he’s incredible. He’s very smart (which explains why he’s Head Boy), but I never would’ve guessed that with his study habits. He said that he always puts things off until the last minute. I have to go, I’m throwing him a little surprise Halloween party because he told me that Halloween was his favorite holiday and he deserves to celebrate it. I’m really glad that I’ve borrowed his cloak.”

“November 15, 1975

Dear Diary,

It’s been two months since I first started seeing James’ spirit. We still haven’t found anything, but researching is becoming more fun. I don’t think we’ve done any real research for at least a week because we’re talking and laughing so much. How come I didn’t know he was such a sweet guy before? I think I know him better than I know my current best friend. That’s pretty sad, isn’t it? I haven’t even spoken to my best friend for at least a month. My friends must think there’s something wrong with me. I’ve never ‘studied’ this much. Oh, well - I’m enjoying James’ company so much.

I kind of wish that I hadn’t told James that one of the requirements for my help is for him to stop asking me out because now if he asked me, I think I’d say yes. He really is pretty cute. And he’s smart. And he’s Head Boy, so that means he’s not into trouble making as much any more. He isn’t as conceited anymore, either. I’d say his ego has deflated enough so now it’s now only the size of Spain, which is definitely an improvement. But I’m definitely not going to fawn over him like some of the other girls in this school. I’d merely accept if he asked me out, or flirt with him, or both. I’m never going to stoop to some of the girls’ levels of worship of James. One stole a pair of his boxers, framed it, and has it hanging over her bed. That girl has serious problems.

I’ve gone down to see James everyday since Halloween. I just never get tired of talking to him. He always knows how to make me laugh. This may sound pretty horrible of me, but there’s a part of me that hopes James doesn’t get his body back. That part of me wants James all to myself, and doesn’t want to share him with anyone else. But I can never tell him that: it will re-inflate his ego. I’ve got to go meet him now, I’ve been away from him for 30 minutes and I already miss him. I know - I’m pathetic.”

“November 29, 1975

Dear Diary,

Okay, so it’s official, I’m in love with James Potter, just like all the other girls in the school. Although, of course, there is the sad fact that he’s rather thick - I keep flirting with him and am trying to shove signs in his face that I like him, but he’s completely oblivious to it all! How can I possibly be more blatant about it? When he’s around, I do normal flirting (as in talking) with him, and I be sure to wink at him from time to time and all of the books I’ve dropped haven’t been on accident so I can pick them up. But he doesn’t even notice! I swear that if I get anymore obvious I’ll have to tell him bluntly that I like him. I think telling him that I love him would scare him. I know guys can be terrified of that. My sister has scared many a guy away by doing that, although I’d rather not talk about her.

I need to pick a Christmas present to give him. I’ve decided that I’ll buy him a gift and tell him that he can have it after he gets his body back. I’m going to stay over the holidays for the first time just so I can keep James company. I’ve already told my parents and they’re only okay with it because I told them I need to stay so I can use the library to study for the N.E.W.T.’s. I hate lying to people, but I can’t be put in St. Mungo’s, otherwise I’ll never be able to help James get his body back. I’m going to go meet James now and try to make him see that I love him. Boys can be so oblivious sometimes. It’s pathetic.”

“December 11, 1975

Dear Diary,

Today in Hogsmeade I found the perfect gift for James! It’s the most beautiful owl I’d ever seen. James’ owl died at the end of last year and he was rather upset by it. He didn’t ask me out for a week! He still hadn’t gotten a new one at the beginning of the year, but I think he’s ready for a new one. This one is a rich coffee brown with black spots and he’s incredibly intelligent. I was talking to the owner of the shop about James and this owl swooped down and landed on my shoulder and hooted softly as if saying, ‘Pick me! He’ll love me.’ And the storeowner commented that that owl had never done anything like that before, that he usually just waited calmly on his perch. So I bought him and I hope James will like him. For now, he’s in the Owlery. But James doesn’t get to find out about him until Christmas. I have to go talk to James: he hasn’t seen me nearly all day due to my Hogsmeade visit. He’s bound to be lonely.”

“December 25, 1975

Dear Diary,

I showed James his present. He was thrilled! James decided to name him Finny. Note to self: never let James name anything. He felt bad because he didn’t get me anything. I told him it was fine because it’s physically impossible for him to get me something. He then proceeded to promise to get me a present as soon as he was back in his body. I think James is finally catching on to me flirting because he winked at me! We’re very tired, research wise. We haven’t found anything and it’s been over three months. I don’t know what we’re going to do. Hopefully we’ll think of something soon. I’m going down to the Christmas feast. James is going to go there with me, but I can’t talk to him too much because I’ll look like I’ve lost my mind.”

“December 31, 1975

Dear Diary,

Today James and I went to tell Professor Dumbledore about his predicament. Luckily, Dumbledore didn’t think I was kidding or had lost my mind. Unfortunately, he had no idea how to help us. He did tell us if we figured it out, we should tell him how we did it. Since he’s always so cryptic, I thought I’d give him a cryptic answer to how we do it. He’d probably know what we mean, but just for fun, might as well give him a taste of his own medicine. We’re out of options and I can tell James is ready to give up, but I won’t let him. Something we did learn from Dumbledore is that James’ parents were planning on moving him to St. Mungo’s and if they can’t do it, they might take him off the life-support charm. It’s the only thing keeping him alive right now. He said it would happen in three weeks. I have to save him.”

“January 15, 1976

Dear Diary,

Today James woke up! I was there when he first woke up and I kissed him! I talked to him after Madam Pomfrey left, and at first he didn’t remember anything from his days as a spirit, so I took him to the Owlery to show him his owl. Apparently it all came back to him then because he muttered ‘Finny’. Then, realizing why I kissed him in the Hospital Wing (when he didn’t remember, he thought that I had fallen in love with him for falling fifty feet, he’s very imaginative) he kissed me and then asked me out since I wasn’t helping him anymore. I accepted. We’re going to Hogsmeade on Saturday. This will be my last entry, so good-bye, Diary; you’ve been helpful for me to rant and get all my problems out and helped me solve them. I’m going to go find James and snog him like I’ve wanted to for a month and a half.

-Lily Evans”

Draco stared at the journal. “It didn’t tell us how to get you back!”

Hermione looked at him and replied, “Yes, it did. You just have to read between the lines.”

She started muttering under her breath. “But it couldn’t have meant that. Why would it? That doesn’t make any sense.”

Draco was bewildered. “What in the name of Merlin are you talking about?”

Hermione ignored him and continued, louder, “Wait, it does. ‘I realized something I should’ve realized a long time ago. If this had never happened, if fate hadn’t intervened, I would live a very different life, a life not fulfilled.’ But us, no! That’s too crazy. Fate wouldn’t do that - fate isn’t that reliable. Why would it do that? That’s just stupid! How stupid could I be to even consider that idea?”

Draco, frustrated about being kept out of her train of thought, grumbled, “I could tell you how stupid you are if you let me know what the bloody hell you’re talking about.”

Hermione seemed to suddenly realize that Draco was there still. She immediately spoke.

“Oh! Sorry. What Lily is leading me to believe is that, probably right before he woke up, she told his spirit that she loved him (or liked him) and he probably said the same in return. He woke up, and what happened then is described in the journal. So what Dumbledore told us about what she said, she was talking about fate intervening so they would fall in love. However, with us? I don’t know....”

Draco saw where she was going with this. ‘The fates couldn’t possibly want me to be with a mudblood. That’s preposterous,’ he thought. But somehow, Draco wasn’t as repulsed as he would have been a month ago. ‘No, I’m sure it’s something else.’ But something else in his head, something very small and very quiet, seemed to disagree, and didn’t mind at all. In fact, that tiny little part of him was glad. However, Draco didn’t even notice that little part due to the miniscule size of it.

Hermione, who was staring at the bookshelves, looked at Draco and announced, “We need to research the Fates.”

After gathering several books and reading the sections on the Fates of Greek mythology, they knew it wasn’t that. This didn’t have to do with trying to prolong life in that way. They then proceeded to destiny. This was what they wanted; but it only described the theory of seeing the future, as the wizarding world had yet to figure out if there really was destiny. There were Seers who would tell Prophecies, but this was not that either. After looking at the rest of the useless books, they gave up.

Hermione was thinking about the meanings and Draco was banging his head against the table, trying figure out what it meant. But quick footsteps and a panting, raven-haired boy disturbed them.

Draco looked at him curiously. “Potter, what are you doing here?”