This is my first story, so the beginning chapter is pretty short. I'm trying to get use to writing, but it may take me a while. Please leave feedback, I'd be most grateful! Keep in mind this branches out from the actual storyline, so it wont completely follow the path the HP books take.

Rain drops splattered against the window, the small beads of water trailing down the glass until merging with another. It was a gloomy grey outside, the sun completely hidden from view behind a massive layer of purple and grey clouds. No one could have predicted the rain on this particular day, as just an hour ago the weather had appeared anything but stormy. The sun had been blazing, with not a cloud in sight! Yet now, with the sprinkle of rain drizzling down, it was hard to believe that the day had been anything other than the dreary state it was in now.

Hermione Granger sat perched on the windowsill, her eyes peering not at the rain flecked window, but beyond it, where a boy sat much like she herself was. He was seated beneath a large oak tree, a black cloak wrapped around his small frame and an emerald scarf tucked around his pale neck. His eyes – such a mesmerizing blue – gazed as if in a trance at the ground. The rain seemed to be falling heavier now, but it didn't seem to faze Draco Malfoy. Not many things did.

There was something off about him today, something… different. But what it was, she couldn't quite put a finger on it. Could it be he, Draco Malfoy, was… sad? The boy who had teased, threatened, and bullied her (not to mention the entire Gryffindor house) was actually, dare she even consider it, vulnerable? It was hard to believe; even more was the fact that she was feeling an unfounded desire to go down there and…

and what?

Give him a pat on the shoulder? A hug? A "Cheer up! Things will get better"?

Hah! Was she mental? Slytherins, least of all this specific one, did NOT deserve to be comforted. She loathed him! So why now? Why did her heart want so badly to reach out to him?

Perhaps it was simply her innate instinct to help others when they needed it. Or maybe… maybe…

No.

That had to be it.

She shut the book that had been open on her lap, albeit a bit harder than intended, and stood. Staring at him was not helping the situation.

Hermione headed out the door of the Girls Dormitory and into the Gryffindor Common Room, where her two dearest friends sat huddled near the fireplace, a potions textbook laid open between them. She felt her lip twitch – upward at first in amusement at the sight of them studying, then downward in aggravation when she recognized the book.

Catching sight of her from the corner of his eye, Ron Weasley lifted his head to meet her gaze. A goofy grin spread across his freckled face as he waved her over.

"Hey, 'mione! Mind giving us a hand here?"

"Oh, you want help from me? Whatever for when you have the Half-Blood Prince practically giving you the answers?" She snapped, striding past them and exiting the room before Harry had a chance to retaliate.

"So obsessed with that book…" she muttered angrily, walking briskly down the Staircase, past the Great Hall, before halting, her hand hovering over the door knob leading outside.

What am I doing? I can't believe you, Hermione Jean Granger! You are not – I repeat, NOT – going to talk to that foul, wretched Slytherin! I don't care how pathetic and mopey he looked…

No!

Well, it's just outside…

No-no-no!

But the grounds are big enough...

It's not like I'm bound to bump into him…

Hermione pursed her lips before twisting the handle and pushing the door open, stepping out into the open. She was met instantly with a wave of frigid air and pelting rain the second the door closed behind her. A shiver ran down her spine as she crossed her arms tensely over her chest.

Determined, Hermione took off, heading out onto the school grounds with her head held as high as she could manage without allowing the rain to get into her eyes. However, after several minutes of walking blindly across campus, she faltered to a stop. The cold was beginning to get to her; she hadn't even grabbed her cloak, let alone a scarf or anything at all that could help stifle this impending chill.

"Are you mad, Granger?"

Hermione jumped, spinning around to face the speaker.

"I wouldn't be surprised if it snows soon, and you're out here wearing hardly anything! For someone claiming to be brilliant, you sure aren't acting like it," Draco said through clenched teeth.

"Malfoy?" she narrowed her eyes, incredulous at what she saw. Out of the entire student body, which easily exceeded 2,000, what was the chance of running into the one person she had specifically went out of her way to avoid?

She clenched her jaw before straightening herself to stand at her full height. "Since when do you care? If anything, I imagined you'd be thrilled at seeing me making a fool of myself. Not to mention, you should be glowing at my m-misery!"

She flinched. So much for sounding bold.

She couldn't resist the stutter at the end; by this point, her teeth were clattering uncontrollably. The rain had indeed started to fall faster, heavier, and there was a definite chance of snow coming any second now.

He rolled his eyes. "Consider me dancing on the inside," he replied coldly.

The two stood in silence for a while until the first flakes of snow descended.

Great.

Hermione twisted to try and see the castle through the thick white, but she was lucky to even see Draco's green scarf a few feet away.

"Malfoy?" She gasped, shocked at the sudden blizzard they now were in the midst of.

"Granger! We need to get inside, now!" his voice was hard and unusually composed under such drastic circumstances.

"Which way is the castle?" Hermione shouted back, desperate to be heard over the roaring wind. Her body felt completely numb by this point, her lips already beginning to stick together, and she felt a huge pang of regret for not having brought her wand with her.

"What! I don't know! I wasn't - - -"

Whatever he had been about to say, she had no idea. The wind howled so loud in her ears, she had to clamp her hands over them to keep from buckling until the sheer intensity of it. Hermione closed her eyes tightly, trying her best to block the wrath of nature from stinging her eyes. Nothing about today was going normal, so what was happening?

Out of nowhere, a hand grabbed one of her arms. She didn't resist; it had to be Malfoy, no one else was around.

…Right?

Yet now that she had questioned it, a sense of fear shot through her. She forced her eyes open and strained to see the person who was now dragging her, quite roughly, off in some unknown direction. But it was no use; the weather was just too harsh. She turned her head and was about to close her eyes again when she caught sight of something that made her heart sink:

A green scarf, now faint from the piercing white of the snow, was being dragging right alongside her.