The next day, Hermione woke up an hour early. Not that she slept very well, but she was curious to know what had gotten Malfoy in so much of a fix the previous day. Since it must have taken a big matter to get to Malfoy, it could, perhaps, be reflected in the Daily Prophet. Unexplainably, Hermione found herself wishing that it was only some stupid internal family matter and had nothing to do with the Prophet. She didn't want this to become public. Malfoy's grief would be everyone else's joy, but Hermione wouldn't feel like celebrating. Seeing him cry and react in the way he did probably had something to do with that.

She hadn't told anyone, of course. She couldn't. Hermione could almost hear Ron berating her choices if she did.

'You're not supposed to sympathize with him, 'Mione! You'll feel pity for him and then do something stupid and then you'll find he was only faking it because that's what he's trying to do! Why don't you see it?'

Hermione didn't see it because it didn't exist that way. Her gut told her that there was genuinely something wrong with Malfoy, something inside of him that had, perhaps, never been right to begin with.

She rushed down to the Great Hall before anyone else that morning without Harry, Ron, or Ginny. The place was almost empty, but that was what she needed. Now she only had to wait to get the newspaper from the delivery owl.

Hermione waited and waited. Bored, she took out her book and began reading it. Since she always became so engrossed in books, she was considerably startled when Harry tapped her shoulder sometime later.

"You came without us!" Ginny said.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry, guys. I - wanted to read alone for a while."

"Not in the Common Room or the library?" Ron asked skeptically.

"Well, this place gets a lot more sunshine," Hermione said, inventing wildly. 

It had been almost an hour since she'd come, and the Great Hall was now fairly crowded. So much for arriving early, Hermione groaned inwardly. 

They all sat for breakfast together, and just as Hermione had started on her eggs, a flurry of wings from above informed her that the much-awaited post was here. She almost reached out her hand to grab the owl mid-air, but then told herself to breathe, take it normal. She had to keep acting normal.

When the owl landed in front of her, it took every ounce of self-control to not snatch the Prophet from its claws. Behave normal, Ron's already suspicious! She unfolded the paper and drew in a sharp breath. 

"What's the matter? Something important?" Harry asked. 

Well, it was something important, but not in the same way to Hermione as it was to Harry. She wondered whether she should tell the rest of them. If she did, she'd risk her own resolve of not celebrating in Malfoy's fall. But if she didn't, they'd probably find out from someone else. Dozens of people got the paper, and the news was bound to spread. She reluctantly decided to read out the headline and its article to them.

LUCIUS MALFOY ARRESTED AT MALFOY MANOR 

Lucius Malfoy, 45, dangerous Death Eater and formerly in open association with Lord Voldemort, was arrested yesterday, reports a Ministry insider.

"The Malfoy Manor was raided last evening and Lucius Malfoy was arrested on charges of betrayal to the Wizarding World and several other inhumane acts like murder and torture of many people in the past," said a triumphant Aurora Barebone, Head of Auror Department. "We are, though, still looking for Narcissa Malfoy, who escaped from the Manor and is in hiding."

Reports from earlier this year claimed Lucius Malfoy to be abroad, but they are now known to be a false lead, probably spread by the person of the same name in order to effectively remain safe from the Ministry.

"Malfoy was directly sent to Azkaban without a trial," Barebone further said. "In his case, we did not feel a trial necessary as it would only be a wastage of time. His deeds are known to the whole world. However, his wife Narcissa may be subject to a trial in front of the Wizengamot when she is captured as there is no solid record of any such act by her, even though she is a Death Eater."

On asking about his son, Draco Malfoy, Barebone refused to take any action against him keeping his tender age in view.

"Draco Malfoy was only sixteen years old when he was branded Death Eater and hence we cannot account for his own willingness in the matter. Also, there is no record of any punishable act by him that could land him in front of the Wizengamot."

Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic, was unavailable for comment, though he has expressed his relief and pride through his secretary Liam Hound.

(Full interview with Liam Hound on page 9)

The article ended with a huge black-and-white moving photograph of a very disheveled Lucius Malfoy holding a prisoner number in his hands. He was being restrained by two guards on his either side, and his face was contorted in fury. Hermione felt a chill go down her spine looking at his face. 

She needed to be alone. She needed to think things through and decide what her feelings were. If she had not seen Malfoy so disturbed last night, she would probably have congratulated everyone within a ten-feet radius. But doing that now seemed like an extremely insensitive act when she knew how affected Malfoy was by this news. 

She glanced over at the Slytherin table. Malfoy was sitting alone, without his friends, and without food on the table in front of him. He was holding a fork like a dagger and his hand was shaking. His head was bent a little, but Hermione could see that the expression on his face was blank. She watched as he suddenly snapped his head up, looked around, and got up, leaving the fork and running out of the Hall.

Hermione thought she saw something like fear in his eyes.

"Guys, I need to go to the bathroom, I'll be right back," she said, her back to the others. She rushed out of the Hall, looked here and there, and saw a tuft of platinum-blond hair disappearing around a staircase.

On an impulse, she decided to follow him. She ran towards the staircase, keeping herself as quiet as possible. She tailed Malfoy up several flights of stairs, always keeping him within sight but never getting too close. Malfoy climbed right up to the sixth floor. Panting slightly, Hermione saw him vanish around the corner.

Hermione saw Draco walk across a painting four times and and then enter. It was then that she realized that Draco had led her right to the Head Common Room.

She heard footsteps. More than two pairs. Hermione quickly hid around the turn to see who it was.

It was Blaise, Theodore, and Pansy. They ran to the door and began calling Draco out, beating their fists on the gate. They're here for him, Hermione thought. They want to help him, but he's not letting them.

On another impulse, Hermione stepped out of hiding. All three of them immediately whipped out their wands and turned. When they saw her, they didn't lower their wands.

"Any particular reason why you're here, Mudblood?" Theo growled.

"Well, this is the Head Common Room, after all," Hermione said. "I'm perfectly entitled to be here. If there's anyone who's not welcome, it's you."

Pansy looked at her murderously.

"I swear, if you try to gloat in front of him, I'll kill you," Blaise said.

"Calm down, I'm not here to do that." Hermione drew one step closer and said, "The password's 'Dumbledore'."

"What?" Hermione could see they were confused. Honestly, she was too.

"The password to the room," Hermione said again. "It's 'Dumbledore'. Walk across the portrait four times and say the password. You'll be able to get in."

"And now we're supposed to trust you?" Pansy asked, her voice full of loathing.

"You can try it," Hermione replied, somewhat frustrated. "Incorrect password's not going to kill you. Correct gets you inside."

"Why are you doing this?" Blaise snarled. 

Hermione sighed, then said, in a more calm tone. "I saw Malfoy yesterday night. He's very disturbed, and he needs comfort. He needs his friends. So I'm hoping you can help him."

Theo advanced further until he was two steps away from her. "I bet you're exhilarated about Lucius right now. You may as well be on your way to a celebrating party in your house common room. Why do you care how he's doing?"

"I don't," Hermione said, "and I have no reason to. It's just that not everyone's like you, full of hate and mistrust. I have empathy for someone who's grieving. I know you need friends when you're miserable, as that's all I've experienced last year." Hermione saw the three Slytherins shift somewhat uncomfortably. "My work here is done. What you do is up to you."

Hermione turned on her heels and walked down the corridor. When she was some distance away, she heard the password being spoken and smiled.  

Oh, today was a good day for impulses.

***

A/N: A relatively short chapter, a bit uneventful, and only Hermione's POV, but I do like this chapter. Let me know how you like it.