The situation was impossible, and when she thought about it for too long, the corners of her four-poster would start closing in on her until she was gasping for air. She had to resume her Occlumency practice in the morning to keep her mind clear and emotions calm.

Narcissa sat down to tea with her each afternoon. On Thursday, she tried to pry into her son's withdrawal. Hermione shrugged and said, "Perhaps he was bored of research. I like it quite a lot." She didn't ask again.

On Sunday, the front page of the Prophet covered an explosion at the Swiss Ministry offices, leaving forty dead. According to Skeeter's skewed commentary, the attackers were "insurgents," bent on destroying Voldemort's foothold. Hermione rolled her eyes and turned the paper over.

She saw Draco in the corridor later that day. He acknowledged her with an "Afternoon, Granger," but it felt much like running into a hotel maid — stilted and polite. She bolted to her room afterward and Occluded until the stinging in her eyes passed.

They'd been completely naked with each other only a week ago, but now they were back to acquaintances, it seemed. She had never… gone through a break-up. Was that what this was? Were they broken up before they'd even begun?

She woke on Monday morning to a banging on her door. Hermione jerked up in bed, her hand reaching for a wand she no longer had.

"Granger!" Draco's voice bellowed.

She blearily checked the mantle — almost four in the morning. She tossed off the covers and dashed for the door, wondering what could be the matter.

She threw the door open and found him impeccably dressed in his black trousers, black boots, and black robes. There was a flurry of activity in the hallway — elves racing by, a discarded coat on the floor. Lucius's voice calling from inside his bedroom. Suddenly, she was wide awake as she took in his intent eyes with dark circles underneath, the tension in his jaw.

"I'm needed in Switzerland."

She stared at him, waiting for his words to make sense. A trunk zoomed behind him, levitating down the hall.

"Draco, there's no time!" Lucius's voice was a snarl.

"I need thirty seconds!" Draco turned back to her, running a hand through his hair as Hermione's mouth fell open in horrified understanding. "I'm leaving now, and I—"

"How long?"

He blinked at her and shook his head. "I don't—I don't know."

"Your father was supposed to have this handled." She felt her air coming quickly, something tightening in her chest, making it hard to breathe.

"Yes, well it's gotten worse, and—"

Lucius appeared over his shoulder. "Now, Draco. Say goodbye." He stalked away.

She felt the moment slipping from her grasp like oil through her fingers. She reached for him as he turned back to face her, clutching his robes. "Where is your mother?"

"Outside the gates with Bella. Granger—"

"But why are you—"

"Listen to me." He gripped her arms, and she went still, her heartbeat ceasing and her skin frozen. "If my parents have to leave, stay in your bedroom. There are heavier enchantments on this room than any other in the house. Wait for my mother to come get you."