She looked nothing like she normally did. Bushy brown hair was charmed and tamed to become soft chestnut waves, and hazel eyes were outlined and defined. For the night, her usual school uniform and cloak were replaced with a flowing dress of the palest shade of blue, and her identity was hidden by a small white mask.

The lack of lighting on the Astronomy Tower made shadows dance across her face, her lashes casting darkness across her cheeks. The moon was full tonight. She stood there, in the gentle October breeze, away from the celebration and people. She had never been one for large crowds, always preferring the quiet of the Hogwarts library the the loud music and shouting of party's. So when her friends had turned their heads toward the band, she had rushed out through the crowd as quickly as her heels would allow her.

Normally she loved Halloween at the castle. Every year the Feast was better than the last but this year Dumbledore had decided it should be a Halloween dance. A Masquerade Ball actually. Everyone wore masks of every shape, size, and color. Some changed their appearance every half hour, some changed to imitate the wearers partners mask. Her favorite so far had been one worn by Lavender, that changed colors every hour, and gave of a light glow when it did. Her own mask was simple. Everyone had expected her to have the most magically enhanced mask at the party, but had instead opted for plain yet elegant white, with no spontaneous alterations.

She stood, silently, admiring the moon in all its glory, lost in her thoughts when she heard footsteps behind her. Thinking it to be Harry, coming to bring her back to the party, she turned, and ran straight into the person who disturbed her reverie.

She glanced up at the face and was stunned. Even without his usual shock of pale blonde hair there was no question as to who this was. When you stare someone in the face for six years, as they insult and tease you and call you horrible names, you always remember what they look like.

He must have opted for a slight change in appearance rather than a mask. His hair was now black as night, swept to the side of his face. His eyes, however, were the same light grey they'd always been. He must have been relying on the strange lighting in the Great Hall to mask his eyes. But even so, the sharp lines and aristocratic features of his face were impossible to mistake.

She tore her gaze away from his face and stared at the floor. She was prepared for the worst, the harsh words that always came from him. She didn't want to accept the fact but he hated her. For no other reason than the fact that she was herself. And nothing she could do would change that.

Then his voice startled her, much like his footsteps had. "Nice night, eh?" She again stared at him. He was talking to her, staring over the railing of the tower. She was amazed. He had said something to her that didn't start with the word 'mudblood.'

He hasn't realized who she was yet. She looked back down at her feet before noncommittally replying, "Yeah." He nodded once, then moved to the side, so he was facing out towards the night, like she had been. She no longer wanted to stay here. It would only be so long before he found out who was behind the mask, so she went to take her leave. She hadn't gone two steps when his voice stopped her again.

"Needed to get away from the party?"

She knew she should just go. This boy had tortured and teased her for years, never had a kind word to say to her, and the very idea of being friendly with him was absurd. Plus, if Harry and Ron found out they'd overreact and things would go bad like they usually did when Malfoy was involved.

But on the other hand, he didn't know who she was. They might be able to have a civil conversation, one where the terms 'dirty' and 'blood' didn't go hand in hand. He wouldn't insult her. And if he did find out who she was, there was no love lost. They'd go on with their lives pretending it had never happened. No one would ever know, because she'd never tell, and he wouldn't ruin his reputation talking about it.

She turned back around and he was staring at her. Leaning against the railing, a few pieces of hair came out of their formation. And even though normally he was evil, normally he was a rotten ferret, at that moment, he seemed like a regular person. A person like her, who just needed to get away from the crowd. So she lifted her head and looked into his eyes. "Yeah. It was getting kinda crazy down there. Too many people."

He nodded. "I understand. Parties like this aren't my scene." He then twisted his body to face out again, away from her and once again Hermione thought she should go, because he looked like he was deep in thought. But then he glanced over his shoulder and said, "care to join me? It's a nice view." She didn't reply, just walked over and stood by the railing, a foot of space between them. They stood quietly, watching the moon make its way across the black and blue sky.

He broke the silence by asking, "have you ever thought about jumping?"

She thought she heard him wrong. "What?"

He repeated his question and turned to her. "Have you ever thought about jumping?" Leaning over the side slightly, he continued. "It's a pretty long way down..." He paused.

She was stunned. Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin Prince, was suicidal? That didn't sound right. Sure, these days he looked tired all the time, bags under his eyes and he'd lost a lot of weight. But being the bookworm she was, shed figured it was just stress from testing and everything that went on at school. She never would have thought that this was what he thought about. She wondered what was wrong, what could possibly drive his mind to this train of thought, but knew better than to ask.

"No. I've never thought about jumping... Have you?"

He barked out a laugh, the harsh sound echoing off the stone walls. "Yes. Every day for the past two months I've thought about it. It'd be the easiest thing to do, because nothing else is going my way. It'd be easier than what I have to do." His voice broke and he choked on his words as he said, "anything would be easier than what I have to do."

Hermione was at a loss for words. The boy beside her who normally felt no emotion was falling apart at the seams. And in front of who he believed to be a stranger. But then again, she supposed that losing yourself in front of someone you didn't know would be easier than doing it with someone who is with you all the time. Because breaking down in front of a stranger meant that they wouldn't have to deal with them asking questions, because they wouldn't know the questions to ask.

She hesitated. If she knew what was good for her shed leave now. Turn on her heels and leave the Astronomy Tower and pretend that this had never happened. But looking at him now, with the moonlight reflecting off the unshed tears in his eyes, she decided not to do what she was comfortable with, but what she felt was right. She placed a hand on his arm and was surprised to find he was warm, despite the chill of the night. He stiffened under her touch, but she kept her hand steady and didn't remove it. She stood for a minute, watching him as he looked at everything but her.

"You know, I don't know what you're going through. I'm not even going to pretend I understand because I don't. And I won't ask. But... If this... Thing that you have to do is so hard, why don't you just... Not do it? I realize that that sounds ridiculous but you have a choice. It's your life, and no one can tell you what you can or can't do, no one can force you."

He let out another staccato laugh. "Bloody hell you sound like Granger." She froze at this but he continued. "Life choices and all that rubbish. But don't you see?" He moved quickly, turning and grabbing her arms, pulling her closer so she could look at him, staring into her eyes as if they held the answers to his questions. "Don't you see that I don't have a choice? I have to do this. And if I don't?" He looked back over the railing and sighed. "It's going to turn out the same anyway. Jumping or otherwise. This is how it's going to end anyways." His voice rose and he pushed her away.

"No matter what I do, what choices I make. Every path I take leads back to the same thing and nothing!" He grabbed his hair and fell to his knees. Hands in front of his face he whispered in a broken voice. "Nothing I do will make any difference."

Hermione stood there shocked as sobs began to shake his body. He remained quiet as he broke, as his heart and soul took the fall that he longed for. He wouldn't look at her, keeping his face in his hands while he let out his frustration and anger. Draco Malfoy sit crumpled at her feet and it took all she had not cry with him. Because she knew what it felt like to cry on your own. And noone, not even the famous hater of Muggle-born's, deserved to be alone while he fell apart.

She dropped to her knees beside him. He stiffened again as she took his hands in her own, pulling them away from his face, and he tried to turn his head, to look away from her so she wouldn't see his tears. But she shook her head at him. "No, no, look at me." He slowly met her gaze, and in his eyes she could see the pain. She could see the anguish and the hopelessness. And if the eyes are the windows to the soul, then Malfoy's soul was completely broken. As tears streamed down his face she felt her heart shatter with him. Even though he was the enemy, even though he hated her, she didn't want him to feel like this. No one should feel the way this boy in front of her did.

So she said the only thing that she could think of, staring into those haunted gray eyes. She held his hands tight so he couldn't pull away, and she whispered to him.

"Talk to me. You don't have to tell me exactly what's going on. But... you have to let it out. So just talk. About anything." She paused again.

"Let me help you."

He looked up at her. His eyes were wide and his hand jerked, as if he wanted to pull away. But she held on tightly and wouldn't let up. He stared at her, gray eyes meeting hazel. They stayed like that for what seemed like forever, and the wind whipped and the moon continued to glow. Finally he sighed. He shifted closer to her, so their knees were touching, and he left his hands in hers.

Then he started talking. At first it was about stupid things. Girls he'd dated, scores on tests. He complained about her, without even realizing it, and she had to try not to visibly flinch. He talked about his favorite places in the castle, favorite spells, funny stories.

But after a while, when he had exhausted every good memory he had, he started on the bad ones. He talked about the flashes of bright green light that shone through his house on a regular basis. Described the horror of being six years old and not knowing why screams were echoing through the halls. The curses and spells he was forced to learn, and the pressure set on him to be better than everyone else.

A major topic of his was blood. He was proud to be pureblood. And had every right to be. He was rich, smart, talented, good looking. He had everything that he could want. "But sometimes it's awful," he confided to her, "because my life is planned out. Who I have to be friends with, how I have to act, hell, my parents have already picked out the color scheme for my wedding. And if I stray from the path that's been chosen for me..." He trailed off then and changed the topic.

As the night went on, he grew more comfortable with her. She sat back and let him do the talking, nodding and laughing and asking questions he'd be ok with answering. They never discussed his impossible task, and she never asked. She knew that asking would ruin the mood, shatter his trust in her. So she kept quiet and didn't ask what she clearly wanted to.

They realized that the moon had long gone and the sun was beginning to rise. The soft reddish glow began to rise over the edge of the Astronomy Tower, the new day staring them in the face. Draco stood and offered her his hand, and Hermione sighed and took it. He helped her to her feet, and for a moment they just looked at each other. She was the first to shift her eyes away. With her hand still in his grasp, she smiled at him and went to pull away, only to find that he was holding her hand tightly, much like she had done to him hours before. He was still looking over the railing, a troubled look on his handsome face, all traces of his tears gone. But when he spoke, his voice still held an air of being on the edge of cracking.

"If you were told to do something... And your only options were to do it, and hurt someone else, or refuse and face punishment yourself... What would you do? I just... Know in my heart that this is wrong but... God, I'm so scared because no matter which choice I make its going to be wrong in someone's eyes." He looked at her again, waiting for an answer.

She didn't even have to think about it. "I think you should do what ever you need to to stay true to yourself. There's no specific meaning to 'right' or 'wrong'. It all depends on what you feel in here," and with that she reached out and touched where his heart was located. She could feel the steady thumping beneath her hand, as she looked into his eyes. She then smiled, and told him she had to go. She turned once again, almost expecting him to pull her hand again.

She didn't expect him to grab her, whip her around, and catch her in a bone-crushing embrace. He held her close to him, and after she got over the shock she hugged him back. The sun continued to rise and together they stood, with their arms wrapped around each other. They stood, two people who would normally never be seen together, let alone touching, yet here they were. She knew how much it took for him to bare his soul to her, and it broke her heart to know that if he knew who she was, he'd hex her into oblivion, regardless of the hours they'd just spent together. She decided she wouldn't tell Harry or Ron about the encounter, because they'd overreact and they wouldn't understand. No, she would keep this to herself, just as she knew he would.

Finally he released her, and one final time, his gaze met hers. But this time, his gray eyes were clear, as if they'd been opened to something he should've seen long ago. He reached for her mask, but she shook her head and stepped away. As she turned and started back to Her common room, away from the astronomy tower and the rising sun, he called to her, in a surprisingly strong voice.

"Who are you?"

And the Gryfindor Princess turned and smiled at the Slytherin Prince, one final time. She spoke, just loud enough for him to hear.

"Its not important. I'm the same person I was when I left the party. The question is... Are you?"

And with that she left. She looked back only once, and found him facing the sky, his back to her, his head held high. She hoped that whatever his task was, he made the right choice.

It was just a whisper, so soft she almost thought she imagined it. Simple words that would usually mean nothing, but to her, they meant a new beginning, not for herself, but for someone who could do so much more with what life gave him. Simple words that at that moment, meant the world to her.

"I don't normally say this, but... Thank you."