Hermione sighed, looking at her watch. The dinner break still had an hour to go, but she had already finished, and she was thinking of going to the library so that she could research the Cruciatus curse for an extra credit assignment. It was a horrible curse, but she was under the impression that if she learned enough about it, she would have a better chance at fighting it (if it ever came to that).

She sighed again. She didn't know much about this torturing spell, except that to use it on a fellow human being was punished by a life sentence in Azkaban, the wizard prison. She wondered momentarily what it felt like, then shook off the feeling. It was sure to be extremely painful, since she had seen it demonstrated in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but only on a spider.

As Hermione was wrapped up in her thoughts, a voice burst into her mind. A voice that was eerily familiar.

"How dare you get such low grades?!" The agitation that rang in the voice could've been cut with a knife. "Even that mudblood got better grades than you! If you have any hope of anything in the future you had better start studying!"

"Yes father," came another, even more familiar voice. "I'm sorry, it's just that."

"I DON'T WANT TO HEAR THAT YOU 'WEREN'T THE FAVORATE, ALL THE TEACHERS HAVE FAVORATES' BLAH BLAH BLAH!" Hermione shivered at the menace in the voice. She had now reached the door from which the voices had been coming from. It was slightly ajar.

Hermione looked in through the crack in the door. What she saw made her heart stop. Lucius Malfoy was standing over his son, Draco, with his wand pointed strait at him. On Draco, young bruises were starting to come in on his face and arms.

"I'm sorry father, I truly am." Draco said, a bit of a pleading note in his voice. "I'll get better grades next time, I know I can do it."

"Well," said Lucius, a slight smile forming on his face, "just a little reminder to study. Crucio!"

As soon as Draco was hit with the curse, he started screaming and twitching like an insect about to die. Hermione stared through the door, horrified.

He'd do that to his own son? She thought. Who would do that to their own child?! By now the Cruciatus curse had been removed, and Draco was on the floor, panting hard, a single tear rolling down his cheek from the pain. Without another word, Lucius swept out of the room through a doorway in the back of the room.

Draco got up, roughly wiping the tear off his face, and wincing as he touched a bruise. "At least my hair isn't messy," he said to the mirror in the room, smiling half-heartedly at his reflection. He pulled up his shirt slightly. Just beside his navel, there was a huge, deep gash that was bleeding onto his robes. He sighed and magicked a bandage onto the cut, then preformed a cleaning spell to rid his robes of his own crimson blood.

Just then Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat, appeared out of nowhere at Hermione's feet and let out a loud meow. Draco turned quickly and locked eyes with Hermione. He beckoned her inside.

"Why. What did.How much did you see?!" Hermione looked at her feet. She knew that he was just saying that to convince himself that it was a possibility she hadn't seen anything but his bandage.

"Most of it," she said, now feeling bad that she had even left dinner. Draco was quaking with anger.

"You have to swear," he said, "never to tell anyone, especially Potter and Weasley! I've kept this a secret for years and telling someone will only bring up more trouble. Do you understand? NO ONE!"

"Fine," she said, locking her brown eyes onto his gray ones. "I won't. But you should tell Dumbledore, at least."

Draco laughed wryly. "Tell Dumbledore? What good will that do me? If Dumbledore questions my father about this, then he'll take it out on me! Don't you realize? He could lie about the whole thing, and then come and nearly kill me for telling someone. It's pointless. Besides, Dumbledore wouldn't believe me." He said the last sentence with something like resentment.

"Besides," Draco was the one looking at his feet now. "He is my father. Even if it seems like I shouldn't care about him, I do. It's my fault. He's just trying to straiten me out."

"By torturing you?" Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing. Even if he wasn't the best in all the classes, he still wasn't stupid. "It's unreasonable."

"No it's not! I'm a bad student and if he has to resort to methods such as these, let him! It's for my own good!"

"Sorry! I just worry about people who are tortured by their own family! Even if they do hate me and I don't know why!"

"It's because your friends with Potter!" Draco was practically fuming now.

"Well I'm different than him! I'm not exactly the same, and you should realize that before you just go hating people!"

"Just leave me alone, Hermione!"

Hermione was startled by this sudden use of her first name from someone who had always called her "Granger".

"Did you just call me 'Hermione'?"

"What does it matter if I did? I said LEAVE!" He pushed her out of the room, less forcefully than he normally would have perhaps, and shut the door.

Hermione shook her head at the door. She couldn't decide if he was being nice, or if his head had been hit a little too hard. Then went off to find Ron and Harry. She had had enough of the Cruciatus curse.

~

"Did you get the extra credit assignment done yet?" Ron asked, looking up from his and Harry's chess game.

"Well, not exactly," said Hermione blushing. "I got a good start though."

"No you didn't," said Harry, not looking up from the game. "Something happened. If you had, then your cheeks wouldn't be the color of Ron's hair."

"Well, I sort of ran into Dra.um, Malfoy." She had almost called their enemy "Draco" and that was a sure way to make Harry and Ron suspicious.

"What did he do to you?" said Ron, hurriedly looking up at Hermione. "If he hurt you."

"No Ron," said Hermione, suddenly appalled at the thought that Draco would hurt her. "I'm fine. We just talked and then I came to find you." True to her word to Draco, she had resolved to keep the occurrence in the room a secret.

"In that case you talked for forty five minutes," Said Harry, still focusing on the board.

"Well, it took a little while for me to find you," Hermione hoped her cheeks weren't giving her away.

"A little while? And since when have you and Draco been able to civilly socialize?" Ron's eyebrows had risen about three inches.

"Forget it, I'm going to bed." Even though she wasn't even out of the common room, Ron said to Harry, "D'you think there's something she's not telling us?"
~

Hermione sighed, staring up at the ceiling above her four-post bed. Draco Malfoy kept invading her thoughts.

Have I gone mad? She thought. Draco hates me, why should I like him? But never the less she still couldn't stop thinking about him. About the way his hands had felt on the small of her back, the way it sounded so good, so right, when he said her name. She was also surprised, and slightly impressed, at the way that, after such pain and torment, Draco was still able to feel love for his father, and to stand by him like he had.

"Ok, so who is it?" Lavender Brown was also in the dormitory. Her voice jolted Hermione back to her senses.

"Who is who?" Hermione replied back.

"Who is the Prime Minister," she said sarcastically. "Who is this boy you're thinking about? It is a boy, right?" She said, giving Hermione an odd look.

"What are you talking about?"

"You have all the symptoms of someone who is obviously falling for someone!"

"Well then of course it's a boy!" Said Hermione, looking up. She wanted desperately to talk to someone. Not about what happened, but about how she suddenly felt about Draco. She would be the first to admit it, she thought Lavender was a bit shallow, and not entirely trustworthy, since she loved gossip, but Hermione really needed someone to talk to right now.

"Well then, do tell!" Lavender pressed. She looked as eager as Hermione felt for her to tell.

After a moments hesitation she replied. "Fine, but you have to promise, promise never to tell Harry or Ron."

"No problem!" She said, sitting down on Hermione's bed. "Tell."

Hermione took a deep breath. She knew that once she told, there was no going back.

"Well," she began. "You're never going to believe this, but."

~

Over the next few weeks Hermione and Draco put on an act that they both still hated each other, even though Hermione had told Lavender and Draco (unbeknownst to Hermione) had said basically the same thing about Hermione to Christopher (A friend from Slytherin).

Hermione and Draco would meet in secret, each making excuses to their friends.

"Hi Hermione," said Draco as he saw Hermione come in the door of the empty classroom they were using as their meeting place that day.

"Hi," she looked flustered. "Ron's on to us. He's getting suspicious of how I can 'study' so much and still not have any work done." She grinned. That was her favorite excuse, since she knew it was believable.

Since Ron Weasley was a friend of Hermione's, Draco refrained from talking badly to her about him. Still, he couldn't help but to feel like he was a prat. Another thing Draco couldn't figure out was how Hermione missed the obvious signs that Weasley had a thing for her. But then, on second thought, that was probably a good thing.

"Why does he find it so unbelievable?" Draco asked, mildly surprised. "I can spend days in that miserable room and not learn anything."

~

So the talk progressed. Before she knew it, Hermione had spent half an hour in the classroom, and it was almost time for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"Hermione," said Draco. "Before you go I want to give you something." As he said this, he leaned in and kissed her.

It took Hermione a second to register this fact in her numb brain. When she did realize it, she immediately started kissing him back. It was odd for Hermione to realize that Draco cared about her. Still, even after years of them both calling one another bad names, to their face and behind their back, they could both feel passion for one another.

"I have to go," said Hermione, breaking away and looking at her watch. "I've got five minutes to get to Defense Against the Dark Arts!"

"And I have five minutes to get to Transfiguration!" Draco realized. "Bye."

As soon as she had joined Harry and Ron in the DADA classroom, she immediately felt guilty for what had happened. She knew that she had to tell Ron and Harry as soon as they got back to the common room.

~

"WHAT?!?!?!?!" Ron couldn't believe his ears. He felt like Hermione's words had ripped out his still beating heart and was tearing it apart with every syllable she said. Malfoy. The thought rang painfully through his head. She loves Malfoy. How could she do this to me? Why does she hate me?

"You heard me," Hermione said quietly. "We've been meeting in secret since I had been planning to research the Cruciatus curse."

Ron was furious that such a thing could happen to him. One small conversation in the hall and suddenly they're a couple? It's not right! He had been planning to ask Hermione out to a Christmas dance that Seamus and Dean arranged that was going to be the evening before the Christmas break, but it now seemed obvious that she would be going with Malfoy. Draco Malfoy, your days are numbered! He thought furiously.

Fuming, Ron got out of his chair and stormed up the stairs to the boy's dormitories. He flung himself onto his bed and ripped the scarlet hangings on his bed shut. Right then he hated Malfoy more than he had ever hated anyone in his life.

"Ron?" Harry had come in.

"Let me alone!" Ron said angrily, although immediately regretting it.

"Look, I just wanted to let you know that I'm sorry about Hermione." Harry was the only one that Ron had told about his idea to ask Hermione out. "I know what it's like to be let down like that."

"No you don't," Ron said suddenly, jerking the hangings open to face Harry. "You have no idea. At least when Cho let you down in fourth year she said she was sorry! Hermione doesn't even know I like her, and that was half the point of asking her to go with me! And Cho wasn't going with Malfoy, was she? She was going with Cedric Diggory, who at least had something nice and human about him!" Ron groaned. "Why? Why did it have to be Malfoy? If only it was anyone besides Malfoy!"

"Sleep on it Ron," said Harry wisely. "You'll know what to do in the morning." Ron almost immediately took Harry's advice, even though Hermione and Malfoy invaded his dreams.

~

"Ron, you're not looking so good today," said Hermione, looking anxiously at Ron.

"Yeah, well maybe I'd be better if one of the few girls I had a crush on hadn't just told me last night that she was going out with my enemy." He said sulkily.

"What?" Said Hermione, looking startled.

"Did I say that out loud?" Ron was horrified. How could he say something like that to Hermione? How could he tell her like that how he felt? He looked at Harry for some kind of sign as Hermione jumped up from breakfast and hurried out of the Great Hall.

~

Hermione stared at the book in front of her as though hoping it would just suddenly give her the answer that she needed out of thin air. She had ran to the library as soon as Ron had let slip how he felt at breakfast. She didn't know what to do. She had liked Ron since he helped her get away from that troll in first year, and had come to accept that he would never feel the same about her. Now it was like her entire world had been tipped upside down. She liked Draco, a lot, but she also couldn't bear the way Ron was moping around. She once again began the pursuit through her Transfiguration book.

"Hermione?" Draco had followed her from the Great Hall. "What happened?"

"Last night I told Ron that we liked each other," Hermione said slowly. "He wasn't too happy about it. At breakfast he.well he told me that he liked me and.and." she broke off, not trusting her voice. "I feel so horrible!" she gasped out at last.

~

Draco felt like a huge hunk of ice had slipped down into his stomach at Hermione's words. It was obvious that Hermione liked Weasley, even if she didn't know it yet. He sat down beside her and put his arm around her.

"Don't worry," he said. "It'll work out, you'll see."

"I suppose it will." Hermione's eyes were blurry as she looked down at her Transfiguration book. "I just don't want him to hate me!"

"He won't." Draco was using everything in his power to keep his voice steady. If Weasley finds out how Hermione feels, thought Draco, then I'll lose the only girl I've ever cared about. And the only person who ever cared about me. "You'll see, it's impossible to hate you." He said aloud.

~

The next week was extremely hard on Draco. He didn't want to go home for Christmas break, but his father had "asked" him to. It was hard to ignore the fact that Weasley fancied Hermione a lot, and Draco quickly became depressed. Even though he was still going out with Hermione, He still felt extremely worried about Weasley.

The week leading up to Christmas break was relatively uneventful, unless you count some of Draco's hardest work to keep Weasley and Hermione from liking each other too much. The time seemed to slip away. Soon Draco was faced with a new, more serious problem.

His grades had been dropping, due to his obsession over Hermione. He knew that his father was going to be even more inclined to give him a "reminder" to study. He was extremely worried about this, since his grades were accountably lower than before. He had a feeling that the Cruciatus curse was going to break it's own time record of longest time administered (five minutes).

During the Christmas dance, however, he managed to forget his troubles.

He and Hermione went together, as had been planned. Everyone who knew them, besides Weasley, Potter and Christopher, thought it was all some practical joke. After about five minutes, however, the mood changed to something closer to awe.

How could Draco Malfoy, a pure-blood Slytherin, suddenly have a change of heart and fall for Hermione Granger? It was unfathomable to most. What annoyed Draco most, however, wasn't the fact that almost everyone was baffled, but more of the fact that Dumbledore didn't seem in the least bit surprised. He looked as though he had known all along about them, which got Draco quite pestered. Wasn't there anything that man didn't know? Yes, there is something, a voice noted inside his head. He doesn't know that your father beats you to a pulp every time he sees you. The one thing you want him to know. Draco hated that voice in his head more than he hated anyone, even Potter.

After the Christmas dance, Draco told Hermione what he was concerned about.

"Hermione, If. If I don't come back after Christmas." He swallowed. Hermione's eyes were huge. "If I don't come back, don't dwell on me. You have to move on."

"Do you really think that'll happen though?" Hermione looked extremely worried. "I mean, would he really kill you?"

"Well, my grades have been dropping, and I think he knows about us and. well. you know how he is about Muggle-borns!" He burst out angrily. "Also, if. well. you know. go back to being Weasley's friend. I get the feeling he's really worried about me hurting you and, well, he really cares about you, Hermione."

Hermione gave him a small smile. "Don't worry Draco, you'll come back to Hogwarts. Don't worry."

He wished he could have the same confidence. Unfortunately, he had known his father for too long.

~

"Well Draco, you decided to come home." Lucius' voice was thick with menace. "Come, I have a proposition for you."

Draco followed his father into the sitting room. What he saw made his blood run cold. Lord Voldemort was sitting there, waiting for them.

"Now Draco," Said Lucius silkily. "Will you join the Death Eaters?"

Draco's first reaction was that he would, he never, never went against his father on these sort of things. But then he thought of Hermione, and how close she was to Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. He slowly shook his head no.

"No?" said Lucius, glaring at him. "Excuse me master," he said, turning to Voldemort. "I need a talk with my son."

He grabbed Draco by the scruff of his neck and pushed him out of the door and into the hall. Then he swung him around and shoved him into the door across the way, magicking the door shut after he stepped in after his son.

"Are you mad?" Lucius hissed, hitting Draco in the head with a cast iron fire poker that was sitting by the door.

"I don't want what you've done!" Draco yelled at his father. "I don't want to grow up to abuse my family and take orders from someone! I don't want my entire life do be devoid of love!"

Draco had hit a nerve. He saw his fathers' eyes flash, and in an instant, Lucius' wand was out and pointing at Draco. He muttered an incantation, and Draco felt a familiar searing pain across his arm as the skin split open, as though cut by an invisible knife. He cried out, falling to the floor.

"I won't betray you Hermione." Draco whispered, as he gritted his teeth against the pain in his arm. Unfortunately, his father heard.

"Oh, fallen for the little worthless mudblood now, have you Draco?" his father was circling him, casting a disapproving glance over his bleeding son. "Well I'll have you know, that if you don't give up this silly little act of playing the hero, than I'll be sure to, er, show her to our secret little chamber under the drawing room."

Draco shuddered. Under the drawing room was a place his father had built when they moved in, before he was born. Under there, there were all sorts of contraptions, muggle and wizard alike, designed to cause the most pain and misery possible. Just the thought of what his father might do to Hermione was worse than the Cruciatus curse. It seemed to cut through his heart like the spell his father had put on him moments ago.

As if to add to the pain Draco was feeling, Lucius muttered another spell, this one aimed at his leg. Draco screamed as his shin bent almost in half. Draco glanced down and saw a bit of white bone poking through the mass of torn flesh. He tried not to scream again.

"Father," he panted, looking up at him with more hatred coursing through his veins than he had ever felt before. Until then, he had always still loved his father, but he now changed his mind. "I will never be a Death Eater. And I will never, ever be like you." "Very well." Lucius smiled at his son. But it was a cruel smile, a smile that held only cold humor and scorn. "If you're sure."

"Oh believe me," Draco said through clenched teeth, glaring up at the man he had once, a long time ago, admired. "I'm sure."

"All right," Draco's father smirked. "Just imagine poor Miss Granger, the worthless mudblood. imagine how she'll like her first trip to Malfoy Manor. I daresay she will be able to use her insane knowledge here so she can determine what curses are being put on her."

But Draco had reached the end of his reason. Forgetting that he was just an injured sixteen-year-old, forgetting his leg was bent almost in half, he launched himself at his father, attempting to hurt him as much as possible before he could continue with the horrible prediction. In that moment he hated his father, more than he could have ever imagined possible. He hated him for his prejudice against muggle-borns, he hated him for his love of pain, but most of all, he hated his father for not loving him, for abandoning him to serve Voldemort, and raising his son through his wife to be cruel and evil, just like Lucius.

Lucius laughed as Draco cried out, falling again to the floor as he kicked him directly where Draco's leg was broken.

"You are too weak," Lucius said, watching Draco bite his lip so hard it bled. "You wouldn't have lasted as a Death Eater. You wouldn't have lasted at all."

Draco had been trying not to show any signs of weakness, trying to prove that he was braver and tougher than his father thought, but with this last sentence it was made obvious that his attempts were to no avail. Lucius laughed again, stepping on the arm he had cut open just ten minutes ago.

"Why didn't I see that you were worthless to begin with?" He asked, as he watched his own child squirm in pain underneath him. "Why was I so blind? I suppose I wanted to believe that you might be able to do some good for this family. Perhaps make Narcissa start to notice someone other that herself for once, or that you might have gotten some sense, brought honor to the family name. But no, you were worthless as an influence on your mother, worthless in school, and worthless in anything else."

"I am not worthless," Draco said in barely a whisper. "I'm better than you'll ever be, and at least I have someone who loves me, who will care about me, and who will remember me fondly. You have no one like that." Draco laughed, looking up at his father. For once, he felt power. He felt like he could tell his father that he was better than he thought and not be lying. "No one cares about you dad," he said, his face flinching into one of pain for a brief moment. "No one who loves you. But I do have someone dad, and that someone is Hermione Granger."

For a moment it looked as if his father would explode.

"She doesn't love you boy. No one can. If your own father can't, that what makes her be able to?"

"It's not that you can't, it's that you wont." Draco said defiantly. "She can, and she does, because she is a kind, truthful human."

"Crucio!" Lucius pointed his wand at Draco, telling their new house elf at the door to wait until Draco stopped screaming to tie him in a sack and dump his body in the river.

Draco shut his eyes tightly, picturing Hermione's face. "Goodbye my love," He whispered. "Goodbye Hermione."