Well, this is my first Dramione fic, so I hope y'all like it!

Hermione's breath racked her whole body and her sobs came out in short, choking breaks. She hugged her stomach and pressed the top of her head against the cold stone wall of Myrtle's bathroom. She had just escaped the Great Hall, barely holding back the tears that were threatening. Now she was crouching in the corner of the bathroom off the second floor corridor and crying her eyes out.

Of course he didn't even notice her; he didn't even consider her feelings. They went around snogging all the time, paying no mind to who was watching. Hermione growled and hit the wall with her fist, then realized a second too late what a bad idea that was. She cradled her fist, holding her breath against the sharp pain. After it faded a bit, she pulled out her wand and gently prodded her knuckles, deciding that at least one was broken with several bruises on the way. Muttering a spell to heal the bone, she turned around and put her back against the wall.

I've never broken any bones before, She thought humorlessly. She watched Myrtle drift around the ceiling and let her mind wander. She didn't know how long it was before she heard the door opening.

Her heart suddenly pumping, Hermione leapt up and dashed into a stall. She was about to lock the door, but then she realized it would give her away so she left the door hanging slightly open.

"It's not working!"

Hermione gasped. What was Malfoy doing in a girl's bathroom? She inched closer to the door, trying to see through the crack. He was crouched over a sink, splashing cold water on his face. Myrtle drifted closer.

"You can't expect it to start working all at once," she offered lightly. That was clearly not what Malfoy wanted to hear.

"It's got to work," he growled. "He expects me to get so much done, but I'm not sure I can anymore!"

"You could start by getting a good night's sleep," Myrtle sniffed. "You might be able to focus better."

"I can't," Malfoy's voice cracked and he buried his face in his hands. "When I try to relax, it's like He knows, and it—it burns—" He grunted in pain and wrenched up his left sleeve to run his arm under the cold water.

Hermione bit back a squeak. Plain as day on Malfoy's arm was the Dark Mark. She felt like her mind was exploding.

Malfoy was now sobbing lightly, rubbing the black ink on his arm. "It's no use, Myrtle," he whispered—Hermione could barely hear him over the running water. "He's going to kill me."

"Death isn't so bad," Myrtle was floating idly by, gazing at his tattoo.

Malfoy bit his lip, fighting back another onslaught of tears. I don't want to die, he mouthed.

Hermione couldn't tear her eyes away from him. He truly seemed terrified, and she felt a natural urge to comfort him. But she recoiled, stepping back away from the door. He wouldn't want her help. She leaned against the stall, freezing when it creaked. She reached for her wand to perform a muffliato charm, only to curse silently at herself; her wand was on the floor by the wall where she'd been sitting.

"What was that?" Malfoy asked with his voice full of fear.

"Oh, the noise?" Myrtle said airily. "That was just Granger. She's in just as awful of state as you are."

Hermione groaned inwardly before stepping out of the stall. Avoiding Malfoy's gaze, she retrieved her wand and made to leave.

"Hold up, Granger," Malfoy pointed his wand at her. She noticed his hand was shaking. "How much did you see?"

She thought about lying, but knew it would be pointless. Hermione wouldn't put Malfoy past using an Unforgivable curse.

"Everything," she said softly.

Malfoy visibly paled and fell back against the sink. "You're going to report me, aren't you, Granger?"

Hermione bit her lip as she imagined running to one of the professors… but somehow it didn't sit right in her mind. She shook her head.

Looking slightly satisfied, Malfoy turned back to the sink and turned off the water, picking up a towel to dry his face and his arm.

After a moment's hesitation, Hermione approached Malfoy. "If you want I could teach you a spell that will numb your arm," she offered, though she had no idea why. "That way you could get a few hours of sleep."

Malfoy's eyes met hers in the mirror, and she held her breath for a second. She never noticed how… blue they looked; she'd assumed they were just grey. He was silent for a minute, watching her.

"Is it difficult?"

Hermione's eyebrows twitched. Is what difficult? She wondered. Then she remembered. The spell! Flustered, she nodded. How could she have forgotten what she said just a minute ago? She showed Malfoy how to move his wand, and once she was convinced he knew it, she taught him the word.

"I think that will help," Malfoy said when the mini-lesson was done. "Thanks, Granger," he lifted the corner of his mouth slightly.

Hermione blushed and returned the smile, twisting her wand in her hand. "Here, I'll do it—" She muttered the spell and pointed her wand at the black tattoo on Malfoy's arm.

Malfoy blinked in surprise, touching his skin lightly. "Well, it doesn't hurt anymore," he twisted his arm, flexing his hand. "I think I may have found a new favorite spell."

Hermione racked her brain, trying to think of something to say. "Well, if you don't mind, I'll—" She turned on her heel and headed to the door.

"Your eyes are still red,"

Hermione stopped, glancing back at Malfoy. He folded his arms across his chest and smirked at her. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Holy cricket, she thought, my eyes are red! And swollen, I can't believe I almost went into the hall… full of students… She grimaced and trudged back to a sink to wash her face. As she did so, she felt very self conscious; Malfoy was still watching her. When she was done, she straightened and matched his gaze.

"Why did you help me?" he asked suddenly. "I've been nothing but nasty to you since we met, so you had no reason to be nice to me."

Hermione pressed her lips together. There had to be an answer, there just had to be… anything but the truth. She lifted her chin. "I'm not that kind of person," she said finally. "I help those in need, and…" Hermione bit her lip as she realized how pathetic her excuse sounded. Her cheeks heated up as her eyes strayed to his left forearm.

Malfoy stayed quiet, and Hermione ducked her eyes. "I'm just not spiteful by nature."

Malfoy laughed suddenly. "I heard what you did to Weasley," he grinned. "Sending a flock of birds after him isn't spiteful?"

Now Hermione was really blushing. "He deserved it," she huffed. "He was being a prat." She stared at herself in the mirror to avoid the amused gaze of Malfoy.

He chuckled a bit, but then the smile was gone. "Seriously, though," he frowned. "Why did you help me? You know I'm a Death Eater," he pointed out.

"I heard what you said," Hermione avoided his eyes. "It seems like you didn't want to be a—didn't want to—" She clamped her jaw shut. Honestly, if she kept talking she would say far too much. They remained silent for another minute or so.

"I didn't want to be," Malfoy affirmed quietly. When Hermione turned around, she saw him glaring at his Dark Mark. "He threatened to kill my parents if I didn't. He said it was my fault they failed and I had to redeem their honor."

Hermione cautiously stepped forward, her eyes trained on the black skull and snake. Her mind was buzzing in light of the situation. This was definitely not normal for either of them, but in the secrecy of Myrtle's bathroom it seemed neither of them cared. Hermione lightly brushed her fingers against the Dark Mark. The tips of her fingers tingled.

"It's strange…" she breathed. It seemed she couldn't look away now. "I'd read about Death Eaters, and never really pictured them as humans, much less wizards…" She blinked and stepped away from Malfoy; she'd realized just how close she had been standing. "It was like they were some kind of Dementor or something like that."

Her eyes locked with Malfoy's, and she saw something flicker across his face; but before she could decipher what it was it was gone. He lifted the corner of his mouth.

"That's where we're different, I think," he mused. "I grew up knowing what my father was, I just never imagined I would be one, too."

"Neither did I," Hermione said automatically. Surprised registered on Malfoy's face, and she clapped a hand over her mouth, blushing furiously. There it was—she'd said too much. She glanced at Malfoy, who was now looking a bit confused.

"You never thought I'd be a Death Eater?" He asked incredulously.

Hermione, who didn't trust herself to say anything out loud, simply nodded. Malfoy snorted.

"You're funny, Granger," he chuckled. Then, seemingly without thinking, he reached out a hand and ruffled her hair.

Hermione stuck her chin out. "What's that supposed to mean?" She reached up; meaning to mess up his blond hair, but Malfoy caught her wrist.

He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again. "For the brightest witch of our age, you really are dense."

Hermione frowned. Where did that come from? It was then that Hermione realized her hand was resting on Malfoy's shoulder and he was stroking her wrist with his thumb. She stared at her wrist, her face growing hot. Her pulse pounded in her ears. She swallowed.

"If I'm so dense," she forced out. "Then what am I missing?" She moved her gaze to meet his eyes.

Malfoy smiled. "This," Without warning, he leaned forward and gently pressed his lips against hers. But as soon as it happened, it was over.

Hermione blinked and inhaled sharply; she'd been holding her breath again.

"This didn't happen," Malfoy said. Hermione watched as he left the bathroom, pulling his robes into place. "See you later, Granger."

It was a good ten minutes before Hermione realized Myrtle was still in the bathroom. She stared at the door, baffled.

"What the hell?"

Well, what do you think? I have a sort of confrontation in mind, but I'm not entirely sure I want to continue this… should I?