She loved Harry Potter.

Strange, and easy, that she could say that now.  Sure, he was 
mischievous and a bit immature at times; however, despite all this, his 
heart was always in the right place.  He was nice, he was smart, and he 
always knew what was important.  He never looked down on her for her 
parentage; he was as close to royalty as wizardry got at fourteen, but 
he never let that go to his head.  He was a marked man - and the most 
human person she knew.  

Draco, at least, would pay for what he'd done.  He'd gone too far; even 
his father's influence wasn't going to keep him at Hogwarts after this.  
The stuff he'd used was so dangerous even Snape was ordering him out; 
McGonagall, thank goodness, beat Snape to it; she'd issued an immediate 
suspension, with an expulsion hearing coming within the week.  She 
doubted even Lucien Malfoy could work fast enough to stop the 
proceedings.  After what Draco had done, he was as good as gone - and no 
one would miss his presence.

But that still wouldn't help poor Harry.  Harry was... changed.  She'd 
read up on the stuff Draco had used; it would go away temporarily, but 
it would always come back - and no one had found a way around it.  Harry 
would have to live with what had happened for the rest of his life.

Hermione looked at the sleeping figure on the bed; Draco's stunt had 
shocked him into unconsciousness.  Even in sleep, Harry was restless; 
the ghosts of enemies past and present had to fill his dreams.  His face 
was more slender, now, softer, with the lightning-bolt scar the only 
blemish on his face.  Still, it was still unmistakably Harry, even down 
to the rest of him.  Not much told of the transformation he'd gone 
through; only two conspicuous bumps on his chest told the tale of what 
Draco had done.  

Hermione pursed her lips in thought.  She'd always liked Harry as a 
friend; maybe they could be roommates now...

***