A/N: Wow. I haven't posted anything on this site in a long while! Been busy over at fictionpress. But, anyway…I don't own Draco Malfoy or Hermione Granger.

I stare at my reflection in the deserted Prefect Bathroom in the middle of the night; not even Myrtle was in sight. Which I was thankful for. Back to my reflection. Blonde hair, silver cold eyes looked back at me. Pale skin. I resembled a vampire in many ways. Only think missing was the hate for sun and fangs. Letting out a breath, I leaned against the sink. Who am I? Who am I really? I thought I knew. I one point I did know. I was confidant in who I was.

Slytherin Prince was my nickname. I held a high status within my house. Everyone respected me. They feared me. They looked up to me. I had every thing. Power, wealth, parents who didn't care. What more could I want? I didn't need anything else. I stalked the hallways, head held proud. Siding with my parents and You-Know-Who. What more could I want?

What I didn't know at the time, I was missing something. Something important. No, that was wrong. I did know it. I knew something was missing. I had known it all along, but I pushed it aside. With You-Know-Who, I was only a pawn. There was only one real reason why I was sent to Hogwarts and not Durmstrang. Know everything that was going on. Know what the teachers were thinking. Who was on whose side? Know Dumbledore's weaknesses and his strengths. I was missing a purpose. A meaningful purpose.

But now? Now that my family has lost most of the wealth, all of our power, our standing in society? I don't know. After all that has been taken from me, who am I really? Son of Lucius and Narcissa Black. That's all I know about myself. I'm good at Quidditch and Potions, but I don't want to do that for the rest of my life. My life is falling apart and I don't know what to do. I don't have anyone I can turn to. No one can help me. And who would? Who would honestly help me?

I sink down to the floor and rest my head on the white porcelain sink. It was cold against my head. It felt good. I licked my lips and closed my eyes. I couldn't be just someone pawn. I had to be more than that! There has to be another reason why I was put onto this earth! There had to be!

I was lost. Utterly and completely lost. Lost and alone. I felt tears prickle at my eyes, but like hell I was going to let them fall! No crying. No tears. I didn't need them; not even from myself.

I might as well just die, so no one could use me for anything. And suddenly…that sounded like a good idea. No one would care if I were to just die. Most would probably be relieved when I go.

I got up from the floor and turned on all the knobs, filling up the tub as quickly as was possible. I waved my wand, a small razor appearing in my hand. I knew I couldn't drown myself, but I knew I could cut myself and if I were in water…it would bleed even more freely. I stepped into the pool, clothes and all and sat down on a step.

"It's better this way," I whispered, pulling back my sleeves and looked down already scarred wrists. This wasn't the first time, but the other times weren't for killing myself, just to relinquish some pain that I had. I made the first cut; not deep enough to actually get a vein, but it was making the water slowly turn red around where I was. The bath salts stinging it like crazy. This was why I wanted the water and the soap and the salts. So my wrists would sting like all hell. Slow and painful. That's what I wanted.

I finally let the tears fall free. No one was here. No one had to see me so weak. No one had to see my pain. And no one could heal me. Not now. Not ever. But like I asked myself before, who was there to heal me? All around me were those I only had caused pain. No one actually cared for me here. I cut another, right on top of an old scar, deeper this time. More blood. More pain. Less of everything else.

This was best for me. If I were dead, I couldn't be used. I couldn't be forced into things I didn't want to do, things I thought wrong. If I were dead, no one would have to be bothered by me. This was…best…But…it didn't feel great…I felt that missing piece still gone. And if I were to truly die, right now, then I would never find it, but if I were to die, it wouldn't matter what it was. Tears falling freely at the pain of my wrists and my heart, water a reddish color around me…this was best…

But, the moment wouldn't last. I heard the soft click of the door opening. Who the hell was up at three o' clock in the morning? And what prefect in their right mind comes in here at this hour? I didn't bother to get out of the tub, didn't bother to stop my tears, but the razorblade did get snatched out of my hand from the other. I couldn't see. It was dark, but the pool lights were on, illuminating the water and blood. But I didn't look up; I didn't even try to comprehend who had muttered the spell that had took my blade.

But a part of me was curious as to who it was. Who would try to stop me? Who cared enough to try I stop me? Pity probably. I didn't hear them come into the pool next to me. I didn't care who was touching me, until they had grabbed my hand and pointed their wand at it.

"No!" I yelled, swimming away from the person. I didn't want to be healed. I didn't want to be pitied. I just wanted to leave this place. This retched place. I wanted to just die. To be forgotten. I didn't want help. But I knew I needed it. Badly. But that was something I didn't want to admit to myself or anyone else. "No," I repeated again, softer this time and shook my head.

The splash of water. I could feel the person move closer to me. My eyes were looking at her, I figured it was a female, but I couldn't see her. I couldn't see anything but the reddish water. "Draco," I heard her call my name. Who was she? I couldn't recognize. No one called me by my given name. Only my mother and father, but they weren't here. "What are you doing?" she whispered, looking up at me, but I didn't see her.

"Why do you care?" I spat, not knowing who it was and not caring. I took a step back. We were still in the shallow end. I didn't have to kick my feet to stay above water. I could merely stand.

"You suffer," she whispered, taking my bleeding wrist out of the water. "You suffer to a point of dying. You're a coward, Malfoy. Is that how you want to be remembered?"

Malfoy. The way she said my name. I took another step back, my vision finally letting me see everything else. Brown bushy hair, chocolate brown eyes full of worry and sadness. Her robes donned the colors of Gryffindor. Why was she sad? She had nothing to be sad for. She should be relieved. "Why are you here, Granger?"

"I wanted to take a relaxing bath. I didn't think anyone would be in here at this time. And I couldn't sleep anyway," Hermione asked, running her finger over my cuts, making them sting, though, I didn't care. I was in pain already, emotionally and physically. What could more do to me? Kill me? Good. "—I can't now though," she was saying, unnerved by the blood, like it didn't bother her. Maybe because Potter, Weasel King and herself always saw blood when something bad happened. "The tub is a little bloody." She finally looked back up at me. "I never thought I'd see Draco Malfoy cry." I think she noticed by tears before, but she was just now saying something.

And the next thing I knew, her hand was running underneath my eye gently, with care, wiping away my tears. "What are you doing?" I asked again, taking yet another step back, the water rising slightly, my hand slipping away from hers. I didn't want this. I just wanted to go. I didn't want to be here anymore.

"Let me help you," she whispered, holding out her hands for mine. I just shook my head at her. I didn't want her help. I didn't want it.

"Why?" I asked, sucking in a deep breath. This wasn't right. She was supposed to hate me! She was supposed to despise me! Why was she acting so nice when all I've ever done was torture her and her friends? I cried harder. The pain in my heart unbearable. Nothing made sense. None of this made any sense in my mind what so ever.

"It's okay, Draco." Again with the first name. Why was she using it? Did she really care that much? "It's okay to cry, but," she took a step closer, "but it's not okay to give up on the world…"

"You don't know anything!" I yelled at her, shaking my head. "You don't know what my life is like! I can't take this anymore! I can't take it!" I cried and I didn't even see her come close enough to wrap her arms around my back. I sucked in a breath and looked down at her. "What's wrong with you?" I said in a quieter voice. My arms remained at my sides. I wasn't going to give into her.

Hermione let out a small laugh. "What's wrong with me? There's nothing wrong with me," she whispered as she slowly pulled me to the back to the steps. "But there's something wrong with you. It's okay. You can trust me."

I could feel myself breaking down even more with each second that passed. I just wanted to be a little kid and cry on her shoulder. I wanted her to make me feel better and I didn't know why. Maybe it was because I never had someone care for me as much as she did and considering our pasts…it made me guilty that she could still open her arms to me.

As soon as she sat down on the steps I feel in front of her, burying the side of my face in her lap and cried, my shoulders shaking. My arms went about her waist and held her there. I didn't want to let go. She was my lifeline. I didn't want to let go. But I could feel myself grow weak. A lot of blood was lost. I knew she could tell too as she took my wrists and healed the cuts with healing magic.

She said nothing of my tears. She didn't say soothing words that would make me stop. She just let me do it as I felt her fingers running through my hair, caressing my scalp. And I didn't mind. At all.

Finally, my tears subsided, my shaking coming to a stop. Though, I was still a little weak. But I would live. I hadn't lost that much blood. My hold around her waist loosened a bit, but she continued running her fingers through my hair.

For the first time in a long while, I was completely and utterly content. This might actually be the first time that I was this content with anyone. I slowly pulled myself off of her lap. I was dizzy, but it wasn't that bad. She started to get up when I had gotten off her completely. "No," I whispered, grabbing her hand and pulled her down on my lap. "Stay with me," I whispered, just staring down at her for a few long moments after she nodded. "Thank you," I whispered, and paused for a moment. "My angel," I finally whispered and leaned down, softly kissing her lips.

Who am I?

I may never know.

But I do know this:

I found the source of my happiness. I have found my angel.

I may not know who I am, yet, but I do know why I'm here.

To protect this angel.

A/N: wow…I don't know what made me want to write a Draco/Hermione story again…I've been so caught up with my own book, that I haven't even had time to think up an DrHr. Maybe it was finally having time to read "One Step at a Time" by IcyPanther, finally. Yeah, that was it. Who knows? Maybe I'll finally picking up on fanfictions I haven't finished. This is only a one-shot. Don't expect anything more please.

Well Until Next Time
This is Kiwi-san
Over and Out