Hello there lovely people. This idea just popped into my head the other day, so thought I'd give it a go.

AN - I own nothing, as always, it is already claimed by Ms JK Rowling

Part one – Draco

"That'll teach you to betray the Dark Lord, you're worse than a Mudblood, you snivelling excuse of a Pureblood." A fist hit flesh with a solid thud. No other noise was heard, except for the forceful exhalation of breath upon impact.

Hermione had just rounded the corner, when harsh words filled with such venom had stopped her in her tracks. She paused for a moment, fingering her wand as she pulled it from her robe pocket. The two Slytherin boys inflicted one last kick each to their victims ribs before stalking off, laughing triumphantly to themselves.

She couldn't help but wince as she watched their shoes connect heavily with the prone figures already bruised flesh, the impact only causing him to curl in on himself, into the foetal position.

Admonishing herself for not intervening sooner, she walked with purpose towards the injured boy. On closer inspection, Hermione could see the shock of pale blond hair, spiked in places with what could only be blood, his blood. Bruises were already forming on his alabaster skin; even a Malfoy didn't deserve such horrendous treatment she thought.

It was quiet for a few moments, as she contemplated the best move, but as she stood watching him, his shoulders began convulsing in silent sobs, it broke her heart to see. At that moment, her conscience took over, damn the consequences. She moved closer, before hesitantly, she sank down onto the ground beside him. He didn't move like she had expected him to, and she didn't dare utter a word as she tentatively reached out her hand, bringing it gently down onto his head.

She stroked his hair with soothing strokes, and it struck her at that moment just how soft his hair was, it seemed at a complete contrast to how she had always pictured Malfoy, nothing about him ever came across as 'soft'. Before the War, he had always hidden behind such a hard and cruel exterior; there had never been anything that she could find to like about him.

They say that War changes everything; it was definitely true, Draco Malfoy was certainly different now. With his parents in Azkaban, and many of the family's former friendships and alliances broken, what did he really have anymore?

Realisation and pity stung at the back of her eyes, bringing a lump to her throat. He had no one, and nothing, apart from an enormous Manor house, full of nothing but echoing corridors and ghostly reminders of his past. Hermione knew that she wouldn't be able to cope; so how the hell was he managing it? He wasn't, of course. Lying next to her, he seemed to curl in on himself even more as her gentle hands moved through his hair and across his forehead, trying to calm him.

No, he was definitely different now, he was merely a shadow of his former self, and he was broken. He was a broken boy, crying on the floor, emotions laid bare for anyone who cared to see; but no one did care, they wouldn't even avert their eyes as they walked past, instead they sniggered, as if saying 'look at the broken boy, serves him right, he deserves this pain.'.

Hermione shook her head in disgust. No one deserved to be treated like that, he could change; he had already changed. Draco Malfoy was utterly alone; but she'd be there for him. Everyone should be entitled to a second chance.

Day passed slowly into night, and still they sat in silence, never looking, never moving. Hermione's hands never stilled, and Draco continued to cry quietly onto the cold stone floor.

Eventually, the temperature dropped too low for comfort. The corridors were quiet, lamps extinguished; only the pale blue glow of moonlight surrounded them now.

Summoning courage within herself, Hermione curled her stiff body slowly over his, in an awkward embrace. "I think we should get you to Madam Pomfrey now." She said it so quietly, voice cracking from disuse, that it was a wonder he heard her at all.

Carefully he unfurled himself, bones cracking until he managed to pull himself into a sitting position. Tear tracks glistened in the moonlight, highlighting his bloodshot eyes. Lifting his head more, he finally looked upon his companion, too exhausted to be ashamed. His eyes widened in shock as if he couldn't believe what he saw to be real. Stretching an arm out, his fingers fumbled tremulously against her cheek; Hermione Granger, she was really there, she had sat silently by his side for hours, comforting her former enemy.

"Come on Draco, you don't have to be alone anymore, I will help you." She offered him her hand, he grasped it within his own hesitantly, wondering if she would just take it back, she squeezed his hand reassuringly.

After a few failed attempts and with a last wince of pain, Draco was standing, his weight supported on Hermione's shoulders. They made slow but steady progress through the deserted corridors, stopping now and then when the pain enveloping Draco's beaten body became too much. She could feel his cool grey eyes constantly studying her, but whenever she turned to look back at him, he would quickly avert his gaze.

Reaching the Infirmary doors, Hermione loosened her grip, but Draco only held onto her arm tighter. She smiled weakly at him, trying to assure him that she wasn't leaving as she gently towed him towards a bed, gingerly lying him down, before fetching Madam Pomfrey.

The Mediwitch approached his bed; Hermione could see wariness on his face as the nurse removed his shirt. The bedside lamp illuminated the extent of his injuries, some new, but also many other scars which were much older. She couldn't help it; Hermione gasped, placing a shaking hand over her mouth as she wondered how often he was beaten before now.

Bruises and scars littered his arms and torso, dried blood was smeared across his face, emanating from wounds on his lips and nose. It was a lot to take in. Draco watched her intently the whole time, his eyes never shifting from her face as he watched her reaction.

Potions and salves were administered in copious amounts, and finally the pain was subsiding. Madam Pomfrey left, leaving Hermione and Draco alone once more. "Goodnight Draco", she turned to leave, but was stopped when a hand shot out, wrapping itself around her wrist.

"Please don't go, I can't bear to be alone anymore." Hermione looked at his face, his eyes were pleading with her as he gently squeezed her hand. Pulling a chair closer, she sat herself beside him.

Draco shifted awkwardly on the bed, shuffling until he had pulled himself up, resting his weight on one elbow. With his free arm, he breached the gap between them, cupping her soft cheek in his hand, his thumb working tenderly across her skin as he pulled her closer.

Dry, cracked lips met the smooth skin of her forehead in a gentle kiss, his lips lingering a moment longer than necessary. "Thank you Hermione." His warm breath ghosted across her face as he moved back, lowering himself onto the mattress. He removed his hand from her face, only to take her hand instead. "Please don't go."

Hermione nodded, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Sleep, I'll still be here when you wake up." Draco smiled, interlocking their fingers as he allowed his tired eyes to close, the first true smile in weeks gracing his features, as at last, a peaceful sleep claimed him.

Well, there you go, hope you enjoyed it.

This story will be in two parts, and hopefully, I'll have the second bit typed up in the next day or so.

If you fancy reviewing, go ahead, if you don't want to...then that's fine too, at least you read it eh?

Gemsibob