Hermione knew in her bones that this wasn't the Firewhiskey. 

Her parents were standing right in front of her, smiling at her, looking younger by a decade. Her first reaction was ecstasy at seeing them again. She hadn't seen them in more than a year. Her eyes were hungry for this sight, to have Mom and Dad in front of her again. She had almost brought out her wand to bring her charm to fruition right there, but then she noticed something was wrong. 

Their bodies were lighted in a cold blue glow. Their feet floated a few centimeters above the forest floor. They didn't look ghostly, but they weren't solid, too. Hermione reached out a shaky arm to feel her mother's warm hand, her long, beautiful fingers that she'd inherited. Instead, her fingers passed right through her mother's.

This was all wrong. They weren't supposed to be here, standing in the middle of the Forbidden Forest on Hogwarts grounds. Wasn't Hogwarts supposed to be invisible to Muggles? Unless the thing she was holding in her hand was...

No. No. Of course not. For that to happen, her parents had to be dead. Of course they weren't dead. She'd go to Australia less than a week later on Christmas and bring her parents back to her. Hermione pushed this thought away. Of course it was not true. It could not be. She'd know if it were, right?

"Hermie, darling," her father said gently. "It's so nice to see you again."

"Why can't I touch you? Why can't I feel you?" Hermione asked desperately. She so wanted to be in her father's strong and steady embrace again. "I want to hug you, Dad. You haven't hugged me since last to last year's Christmas when I came to visit."

"My little munchkin," her mother said, smiling sadly. "I want to hug you too. But it's not good to complain. It's a relief that I got to see you once more."

"I'm glad to see you too, but I don't understand," Hermione said. "How are you here? You're not supposed to be here. How did you find this place?"

"We didn't." Her mother's voice was soothing, yet there was something about it that disturbed Hermione to the core. "We didn't, Hermie. You called us here."

"What? N-no, I didn't," Hermione said despairingly. "And even if I did, how could you come see me like this? Am I seeing some kind of an image?" But that would only be possible if a wizard was over there, with them, she realized. "Are you in trouble?" she asked, terrified.

"No, no, darling, we're not in trouble," her father replied. "You kept us safe and protected. We're at peace."

"What does that even mean?" Her voice was rising and was beginning to crack. "Why don't you give me straight answers?"

They didn't reply. Hermione looked at them fretfully, wondering what had gone wrong, pleading with her eyes to tell her what the matter was, the small 'something' still clutched tightly in her hand. Then her mother walked toward her, soundlessly, almost like she was gliding over the fallen leaves. She rested her hands over Hermione's shoulders, and she almost expected to feel them, but it was like her mother was made of air.

"We're no more, Hermione," she said gently. "We've been dead nearly two months now."

Hermione backed off. "Of course you aren't."

"Yes, munchkin." It was her father this time. "We died in a car accident. There was no way for the police to inform you. They, like us, didn't know that we had a daughter. A lovely daughter, with more courage than I can ever hope to have."

Hermione could vaguely feel the object slip from her grasp. There were suddenly black spots dancing in front of Hermione's eyes. They were growing larger. There was a rushing sound in her ears, and she barely felt arms catch her before she sunk into a long, dreamless sleep.

***

To Draco, it was all bewildering. Hermione was talking to someone only she could see, or someone he couldn't see at any rate. Her expression had shifted from exhilaration to doubt to downright horror, and then he'd seen her sway alarmingly and lose consciousness. It was a good thing he caught her, or her head would have hit rocks on the path.

Draco was getting frantic. He had no means of helping Hermione without taking her to the castle. But he knew he needed help. It would not do for him to be the only one who knew about her. He tried casting 'Rennervate', but he knew it would not work. Rennervate would only work on unconsciousness caused by minor magic. Well, Hermione had clearly not fainted in a duel. It was most probably some kind of emotional trauma.

"Think, Draco, think," he told himself. He gently laid her down. He needed a Patronus to go to someone, maybe Harry, and get help. Except for the fact that he'd never been able to cast one.

He had to try. It was imperative that he did. All those times with his friends, all those evenings spent in the Library with Hermione, those had to count for something. He concentrated on happiness and shouted, "Expecto Patronum!"

There was nothing. Not even a faint wisp of white, let alone a corporeal Patronus. He tried again. Nothing happened.

He looked around desperately for anyone, anyone roaming around the grounds that would help. But it was nearly dinnertime. Even the oaf gamekeeper Hagrid would be at the Great Hall. Even if there was someone, they'd never venture this far into the forest. There was nobody here. Nobody except him.

Shoving the stone-like thing Hermione had dropped into his pocket, he massaged his temples. Levitating her would need focus and Draco knew he was in no condition for that. Besides, it would be too slow that way. He had to lift her and carry her back. There was no other option. But his hands weren't ready to touch her. He told himself to breathe. A wall between him and Hermione had to be broken, a wall that Draco had built after she'd said she could see through him. It took all his willpower to force his hands through the walls and hook them under her limp body. Lifting her gently, he broke into a run towards the castle. He made his way through the trees, the undergrowth, and a few minutes later, plain grass. He reached the gamekeeper's hut, then ran straight ahead, panting from Hermione's dead weight. He passed the castle gates, then the corridor leading to the hospital wing, then forced open the doors and entered Madam Pomphrey's territory, who was tending to a spurt of coughs and colds. She took one glance at him carrying Hermione and immediately directed him to an empty bed, picking out a few potions from the racks.

Draco laid Hermione on the bed, then stumbled back, panting heavily. His hands and legs were shaking, and not just because of exhaustion. He couldn't believe it was true, but he was afraid for Hermione. Seeing her fall had sent him over the edge, and even now he was panicking. He had to calm down, had to find something to do. 

Yes, he could get Potter. Potter and maybe his sidekicks. He knew it was probably the last thing Hermione would've wanted, but who cared? She was not here to stop him. 

Madam Pomphrey asked him a few questions related to the cause of fainting, and Draco told her it was emotional stress. He carefully avoided the bit about talking to invisible people, but secretly he was hoping that if it was some kind of hallucination, the Healer would cure Hermione of that too. Then he bolted out of the hospital ward. Dinnertime would be over in a few minutes, but he hoped to find Harry in the Great Hall.

Fortunately, he did. Harry was alone when Draco stopped him. He asked Harry to come with him, and said vaguely that Hermione needed help. Bewildered, Harry followed Draco to the hospital. He went haywire seeing her subconscious, but Madam Pomphrey assured him she'd be all right. 

Harry took Draco outside, then said in a low, dangerous voice. "If you hurt Hermione in any way, I swear to God I'll rip - you - apart."

"Easy, Potter," Draco said, assuming his usual, drawling tone. "I saw her faint. I was the one that brought her here."

"Brought her here? From where? Why the hell were you with her?" Harry asked, confused and angry.

"From the Forest," Draco answered. He didn't want to go into the details of why they were there, because that would mean revealing their study sessions in the Library. "You don't need to know the whys, just that it wasn't me who hurt her. She picked this up from the Forest floor and suddenly started talking to someone invisible and then lost consciousness." He held out the object to Harry. In proper light, Draco saw it was a stone, so dark green in color it was almost black. It had something engraved upon it in gold. It was a circle inside a triangle, and the whole thing was divided in two by a straight line from the triangle's apex.

Harry breathed in sharply. 

"You know what this thing is?" Draco demanded. Harry took it in his hand, turning it around.

"I do," he said quietly. "This is the Resurrection Stone."

*** 

Draco had heard the Tale of the Three Brothers, being from a wizarding family, but up till now he'd had no idea that those gifts to the brothers from Death itself were called the Hallows, nor that they actually existed. Harry told him about the three Hallows and their powers, and that the wand Voldemort was after was really the Elder Wand. Draco could tell Harry was hesitant to give him all the information, but he gathered enough to know that the Resurrection Stone allowed people to see and talk to their dead loved ones.

"But that means," Draco said quietly, "that Granger did not have a hallucination. Her parents really are no more."

"What?" Harry asked, shocked. "How - how do you know?"

"When she picked up the stone, I asked Granger if she could see someone I couldn't. She said it was her parents," he answered. "They must've died recently, or else she would've known."

"Oh, God," Harry said, leaning back against the wall and bringing both hands to his face. "Oh my God. Poor Hermione, it was no wonder she collapsed."

Draco felt weak. He couldn't come close to imagining what Hermione was feeling. She'd been practicing that spell to bring them back to her, and that would've come true a mere week later. She was a week close to having her family whole again. Draco ran a hand through his hair agitatedly. He knew this would damage her in a way that would be beyond repair. 

Draco felt a burst of emotions inside him. He felt misery, pity, and worry. He felt scared for her, for her health and for her heart. He had no idea where it came from, but Draco knew it was deep-rooted somewhere inside him. He almost had the impulse to rush into the hospital ward and take her hand, stroke her hair till she came around.

He felt something for her. Even his sub-conscious knew it wasn't love, that it would never be. But Draco had started to care about Hermione in the way Harry did. He realized it was how the impulse to protect a close friend felt like.

Even in the haggard position Draco was in, he knew Hermione Granger had changed something in him. And he felt furious it had taken her parents to die to make him see it.