Chapter One: Unexpected Comfort

Hermione grabbed the handle of her trunk, unable to stop the smile from spreading over her face. She had thought their Horcrux Hunt had ruined her school career and any chance she had of a good job, but she was wrong. With Snape dead, Professor McGonagall had finally stepped up to take full reign of Hogwarts, and had offered all of the students who had missed the previous year due to being on the run the chance to return to complete their last year. Ron had turned down this chance, preferring to help George run the joke shop. Harry and Hermione had jumped at the chance, however, and hopefully their last year at Hogwarts would be finally normal. Professor McGonagall had awarded Hermione Head Girl, since no normal seventh years had scored high enough marks.

She jumped as a car horn beeped out front, and she grinned. Stopping just long enough to snag her sweater off her bed, she trundled down the stairs and out to the curb where Mr. Granger sat behind the wheel. Once they had heaved her trunk into the car, they were off.

In the main lobby of King's Cross Station, Hermione spotted her favorite raven-haired bespectacled mate. "Harry!" She yelled, and the pair hugged. Harry was pushing a trolley with a new trunk on it, his initials painted on the end in sparkly new gold paint. On top of the trunk was a new birdcage, containing a snowy owl with his head under his wing. Hermione stared at the bird. Harry's original snowy owl he had gotten his first year at Hogwarts, Hedwig, had been killed in the Battle Over Little Whinging. Harry noticed her stare and answered her unspoken question.

"That's my new owl Remus. I had to get a new one since Hedwig is gone."

"He's beautiful, Harry. Crookshanks won't come to me anymore… after I left with you, I came back and he hissed and hid under my bed. Two months and he still won't come to me."

"Sorry, Hermione. Cats are funny that way; they have issues with trust, especially if they feel they have been abandoned."

Harry glanced at his watch, and pushed his trolley toward the trains waiting for passengers. He paused between Platform 9 and Platform 10, and when no Muggles were looking, he pushed his trolley at the dividing wall and disappeared. Hermione turned to her father, and gave him a hug and kiss. She would definitely miss her parents. They had only spent a month together after returning from Australia, and now she would be gone until June. Noticing the time displayed on her father's watch, she let go and pushed her own trolley through the wall.

On the other side, the spectacular scarlet steam engine christened The Hogwarts Express stood waiting for them. Steam billowed over the platform, making it difficult to see anyone's face. Harry managed to get both his and Hermione's trunks on the train, and they found a compartment that was empty except for one lone figure that slept on the right-side bench covered by a long black trench coat.

Hermione pulled out a thick book and started to read while Harry penned a letter to Ron. This would be the first year he would attend Hogwarts without his best friend. After the lunch cart came by, Harry went to find the bathroom and left Hermione alone with the sleeping figure. Not even two minutes after Harry closed the compartment door, the figure sat up, the trench coat falling into a pool at his waist. Hermione glanced up, surprised, and recognized the platinum-blonde hair and pale, pointed face of her arch-enemy, Draco Malfoy.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, and fixed Malfoy with a stern look. "Why aren't you with your Slytherin cronies, being adored? Or out there abusing first years?"

"Sorry, Granger. I didn't mean to make you angry."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up to her hairline. Malfoy being nice? Since when? The question tumbled off her tongue before she could stop it. "Since when are you nice to me? I thought to you I was just a mudblood."

"War changes people, Granger. You can't tell me you and Potter and Weasley all came out of the war unchanged. I've never liked you three, but having you brought to my home, and having to sit there helpless while an innocent person who was truly good was tortured in front of me, it changed me. I realize now that my parents were wrong with all their pure-blood mania rubbish. I sat in that house for months, watching as Death Eaters, loyal or not, were murdered before my eyes. My father and mother both were tortured by the Cruciatus Curse repeatedly for things that were not their fault. I was subjected to that curse myself several times, often just because he was angry. I was forced to use that curse on several people, including other Death Eaters. I had had enough for a long while when the Lovegood oddity was brought there and stored in the cellar with Ollivander. I watched as unspeakable heinous crimes were committed there. I quickly became disgusted with the life I had chosen. Then you three showed up and I did what I could to protect you but I thought it was the end of the Golden Trio. Somehow you wriggled out to go rob a bank. We have all been through hell this past year and especially after the Battle of Hogwarts, I don't think anyone escaped this war unchanged. So many of us lost all who were dear to us, and many more lost everything they cherished. Don't sit there and go on at me about my change of attitude when I know you have lost quite a lot. You are different as well."

Hermione just stared at Malfoy, her chocolate eyes boring into his silver ones. Beneath the thin barrier that was all that remained of his previous smart-aleck wall, she saw the pain and humiliation he spoke of. Something that had once resided in those eyes was gone.

"My Slytherin friends are either dead or have disappeared with their Death Eater families. The ones who remain, I have no interest in fraternizing with. Thankfully this year I am Head Boy, which means I get my own apartment with the Head Girl."

Hermione felt her blood run cold. "What? Where did you hear that you get an apartment with the Head Girl?"

"Several house-elves that work at Hogwarts during the school year are in my employ during the holidays. They told me of a large dorm room that McGonagall had them build where the Room of Requirement used to be. After that fire, apparently the room opened itself and left a big, gaping black chamber. The house-elves say the room has two bedrooms, a common room decorated in the Head's house colors, and a joint kitchen with a private house-elf and even a private library for homework privacy. It sounds pretty cool."

"It does sound cool. Especially seeing as how me and you will be sharing it for the next year."

"You are Head Girl? Figures."

"Well, at least we can be civil towards one another, what with the war and all."

"Yes, that's nice. If it will make things easier for us, I will stop calling you a Mudblood. I will even call you Hermione if you want."

"Oh, er, thanks. Hermione is fine. And I will stop calling you Ferretbrain and call you either Draco or Malfoy, whatever."

"Just Draco is fine, thanks. And just to let you know, I am positive by now you have heard of my reputation as a playboy, King of Slytherin, the like. Although I have given up the pureblood rubbish, I am still intending to keep that reputation so I will be bringing a steady stream of girls from a select group to my room at night."

"As long as you keep it down when it gets late. And I hope you don't mind but I am sure Harry and Ginny will be in my room a lot."

"I expected that."

Hermione nodded, and drew her knees up on the seat beside her, pulling a tiny paperback novel from her coat pocket. She began to read it, and Draco stood up, stretched, and changed into his Hogwarts robes, the shiny silver and green Head Boy badge gleaming on his chest. He lay back down, smoothing his robes, and covered back up with the huge black trench coat. All that was visible was his feet, clad in black trainers. After a few minutes during which Draco began to softly snore, Harry came back in and sat down quietly.

Harry nodded at Draco, and mouthed to Hermione, "Do you know who that is yet?"

Hermione nodded and mouthed, "Malfoy."

Harry's hand twitched toward his holly wand, but Hermione grabbed his wrist. "No, Harry. I talked to him a bit, and you wouldn't believe how different he is. The war must have been really hard on him, he seems so… empty. He's in a lot of pain right now. Give him a break."

Harry stared at Hermione like she was talking crazy. "Be nice to Malfoy? Hermione, don't you remember what he's done?"

"Yes, but I also remember what he hasn't done. What he refused to do. He didn't turn you in at Malfoy Manor, and he didn't kill Dumbledore. Give the guy a chance to prove he has changed. If we get to Hogwarts and he hasn't changed, then you can hex him."

Harry chuckled silently and nodded in defeat. He pulled his robes closed and leaned back. The short remainder of the ride to Hogwarts was uneventful, and, knowing Harry's less-than-thrilled attitude towards him, Draco waited until Harry had left the train before getting up and walking up to the school. Upon entering the Entrance Hall, Draco was attacked by Pansy, who was dressed quite sluttily in a Hogwarts uniform that had a skirt six inches too short and her robe open, exposing her long tanned legs and when she bounced, it became only too clear that she had forgotten her undergarments.

Draco threw up his hand and pushed it into her chest, trying not to notice what else she wasn't wearing, and knocked her back several steps. "Pansy, I told you this summer, we are finished. I'm tired of you cheating on me every time another guy expresses interest in you. If you enjoy shagging other guys so much, go do it but leave me out of it."

"Well, Drakey, I wouldn't shag other guys if you would shag me."

"Stop calling me that! And I told you before, I don't want to shag any girl until I love her. And I don't love you. Leave me alone, Parkinson."

He pushed her aside and stalked into the Great Hall, sitting down in his spot at the Slytherin table and moodily piling pork chops on his plate. Pansy sauntered into the Hall and sat down next to a seventh-year Slytherin, whose hand immediately disappeared under the table.

Draco shook his head at his ex-girlfriend's blatant lack of modesty and smirked as Professor McGonagall walked by the duo and caught sight of what they were doing. He heard her give each of them a month's worth of detentions before continuing her journey to the front table. After the feast was finished, McGonagall stood up and made the yearly announcements, a hint of normalcy returning to the historic school.

She finished up with, "Now, first years, if you will follow your Prefects, they will lead you to your dormitories, where your trunks and beds are waiting for you. Everybody is dismissed, except for our new Head Boy Draco Malfoy and our new Head Girl Hermione Granger. Good night."

A select group of older student rose from their seats, calling for first years, and there was a deafening scraping sound as the benches were scooted back. Hermione remained in her seat while Harry headed for the common room. As the last of the students filed out, Draco raised his head and winked at Hermione. For the second time, her eyebrows shot up. This whole ordeal with Malfoy was beginning to creep her out.

McGonagall swept down the aisle and took a seat on the Gryffindor Table, motioning for Draco to join them. He scowled but did as she asked. "I just have a little bit of information for the both of you. I chose the two of you to be our Heads for more reason than just your marks. I want the two of you to get along. Prove to the rest of the school that even enemies such as yourselves are making an effort to get along and be civil toward each other during these times of new, yet fragile, peace. These are maps to your private dormitories, which I am sure you both know you will no longer share with your housemates. You will still have full access to your original common rooms and dormitories, and your friends will have restricted access to your common room. Friends of the opposite sex will be permitted to visit your bedchamber but if it becomes a problem, such as a pregnancy or one of your friends sees fit to announce your doings to the entire school, I will revoke that permission. Each of your bedchambers are protected by a portrait which you control the password to, and you are to share a bathroom. There used to be private bathrooms but not anymore. However, there is a dividing partition wall and each side of the room has a private bath and toilet. If you have any concerns or complaints feel free to visit me in my office, you both know where it is and the password is peace."

Hermione took the sheaf of parchment she offered and looked at the map. The dormitory appeared to be on the seventh floor corridor, exactly where the Room of Requirement was. She stood up and left the Hall, going down the staircase. Draco caught up with her quickly. "Where are you going? The dorm is on the top floor."

"There is a shortcut passageway here that leads directly to the seventh floor corridor. I'm too tired and full to climb all those stairs." She stopped before a portrait of a bloke who resembled a Renaissance Aristocrat. "Slippery Seagulls," she announced, and the portrait opened. Draco followed her through, and they walked down the seventh floor corridor until they came across a polished mahogany door with a tiny 5" x 5" square in the middle. Hermione touched the square with her wand and stated clearly, "Hermione Jean Granger, Head Girl."

The door cracked open, and Draco gasped. "How did you know that?"

"What, how to open the door? It just takes some common sense, Draco."

Hermione slipped through the door, which slammed shut immediately behind her, almost taking Draco's fingers off. He cursed, and drew his wand. Placing its tip against the square, he stated, "Draco Lucius Malfoy, Head Boy."

The door cracked open, and Draco slipped inside, the tail of his cloak barely clearing the opening before the door slammed shut. "Bloody door, nearly killed me." He gave it a swift kick for emphasis and turned to face the room. In spite of his usually unemotional front, he gasped at the utter beauty of the common room. It was a fairly large room, divided in half visibly by the change of color. On the left half of the room, there was a sectional couch with at least ten seats, upholstered in emerald leather. A small table sat in front of it, and small tables with oil lamps were on either end. A staircase ran along the left wall, leading to a balcony above with two paintings on the wall. One was of a very noble-looking gentleman dressed in Slytherin robes, the other of a very pretty mermaid sunning herself on a rock, her top half covered in a maroon bikini top with gold trim. On the right half of the room, another sectional couch was directly opposite his own, but hers was upholstered in maroon suede. She also had a small table and end tables with oil lamps. She had her own staircase along the right wall, and between the two couches a mahogany door with a gold handle was half open, concealing most of a cavernous and pitch-black room. Draco walked over to the door, and pushed it open. A tall flame pillar came to life on either side of the door, and revealed a huge bathroom, with two bathroom stalls, one green and one maroon, and two shower stalls, one covered by a green curtain and the other by a red one. The tubs themselves were painted gold and silver. When he stepped close to the green shower, a partition wall sprang up from the floor and covered the entire green side from view. He turned around, and saw that they each had a long countertop with a sink basin, hers shaped like a shell and his own shaped like an oval with serpent taps. He went back out into the living space, and closed the bathroom door. Two doors led off the room, one at the end of each staircase, so he opened the one on his side. Behind it lay the promised private library, containing just about every book in existence. He knew Hermione would spend hours among the shelves.

He, however, had no interest in it so he left, closing the door behind him, and crossed to the other door. Behind it lay the kitchen. A small house-elf stood near the sink, her tiny hands folded in front of her. A small table was here, with four chairs. Draco just shook his head and went back out, allowing the door to swing shut behind him. He climbed up the stairs, and approached the man. "Welcome, Mr. Malfoy I presume?"

Malfoy smirked, and replied, "You presume correctly. I am Draco Malfoy."

"Welcome to the Head Boy Dormitory. You have a private house elf who will be at your beck and call should you desire it, and you have the option of a password to keep the Head Girl out of your private bedchamber unless you desire her company. Would you like to apply a password?"

"Yes," Draco replied, and glanced over his shoulder to make sure the sneaky Gryffindor Princess wasn't behind him. "Make the password 34C."

The portrait regarded him with narrowed eyes. "I expected a little more maturity from an eighteen year old Head Boy but obviously you are just like the others. Very well, your password is set. Enjoy your stay, Mr. Malfoy."

The portrait opened, and Draco stepped inside. His bedroom was astonishingly gorgeous, but then again his bedroom at Malfoy Manor was a little bigger and had all the finest furnishings so this room simply felt like home. It had a king-sized bed in the center of the room, with a canopy and hangings. The sheets were made of silk, and the comforter made of down. The comforter was emerald, as were the hangings and pillowcases. The sheets were silver, and emblazoned with emerald serpents. Around the walls were a huge armoire, a low six-drawer dresser, his trunk, a small bookcase, and a desk. Draco opened his trunk and picked up the only thing left in it, his school bag. Even though he knew his elf Toby had packed the bag before he had left, it lay empty. He crossed to the desk, and started opening drawers. He managed to locate two quills, a bottle of ink, his folder of blank parchment, and his textbooks. He packed everything into his bag, recast his usual charm to make the bag and all of its contents feather-light, and replaced the bag in his trunk.

Meanwhile, Hermione hadn't bothered to explore. She had gone straight upstairs to the portraits, and into her room. The night had been a long one, and she was ready for bed. However, she didn't quite expect such a lavish dormitory. She had never slept in a bed bigger than a twin-size, but in the middle of her dormitory was a huge king-size bed made up with gold silk sheets, a maroon down comforter, and maroon pillowcases with maroon hangings. Her sheets were embroidered with a big red Gryffindor lion. Around the walls were an armoire, a dresser, a desk, a large bookcase, her trunk, and a curio cabinet. All of her stuff from home had been brought here, and stored around the room. She loved every bit of it. She opened her trunk, and packed her own school bag for the next morning, selected an outfit to wear the next day, and selected a pair of Victoria's Secret silk pajama pants and a matching silk camisole. Laying these over her arm, she grabbed her robe and padded out of the room. She went downstairs, and found Malfoy stretched out on his sofa. She nodded politely to him, and looked around. Malfoy lifted one arm lazily to point at the door to the bathroom, and drawled, "The showers are through that door there. Don't use all the hot water, either, because I need a shower too."

She nodded and went into the bathroom, hanging her clothes and robe on the back of the door. She felt extremely uneasy stripping where she was, so she walked toward the red shower, planning to undress inside. She crossed the boundary, and the partition wall sprang up. "Hmm, that's cool."

She took a long, hot shower and dressed, ready for bed. She padded out of the bathroom, her robe cinched tightly. "The bathroom is all yours, Mal- er, Draco. Good night."

Draco glanced up, and nodded. "Good night, Hermione. Sleep well."

He got up and shuffled into the bathroom, and Hermione went upstairs. A glass of water had appeared on her nightstand. She slipped out of her robe and slid under the comforter and silk sheet, her body melting into the soft luxurious warm bed. She fell asleep almost instantly.

Draco finished his shower, and peeked out the door. Hermione was nowhere to be seen, so he called out, "Hermione? Granger?"

The tiny elf appeared in the common room, and squeaked, "Miss Hermione is already sleeping, sir. Is there anything Twinkle is doing for you?"

"No, thank you. I just forgot my pajama pants and wanted to make sure Granger wasn't going to catch a glimpse if I made a run for my dormitory."

Twinkle bowed, and disappeared. Draco glanced around one more time, and edged out into the common room. Trying to cover his emerald green silk boxers, he dashed up the staircase and skidded to a stop before his portrait. "34C," he panted, impatiently bouncing on his toes. The portrait opened, and Draco darted inside before pulling the portrait shut. The last thing he needed was nosy Granger getting a glimpse of him in barely more than his birthday suit. He would never hear the end of it, since he was sure she would spread it all over school.

Draco snatched the forgotten pair of silk pants off the back of his desk chair and pulled them on before slipping into his bed. Although the bed was just as comfortable as his bed at Malfoy Manor, he couldn't sleep. He lay awake until nearly midnight, various images running through his head.

The next morning, Hermione woke up perfectly on time, giving herself extra time to do her hair and everything. She draped her ironed school outfit over her arm and trudged down the stairs to the bathroom. Draco was nowhere in sight, so she went in and climbed into her shower. A few seconds later, Draco exited his dormitory with his own uniform draped over his arm and his bag of hair products in his hand. He glanced around for Hermione, and went down the stairs. He went to the bathroom, and swung the door open. The partition wall was up, and steam billowed over the top and sides. Draco shrugged, and started to undress. Hermione turned her shower off, and got out with a towel wrapped around her.

She absentmindedly toweled off and, wrapping the towel around her waist, began to do her hair without bothering to get dressed since she didn't want to get gel all over her robe. The shower behind her shut off, and Draco quickly dried off and pulled on his boxers and pants, then put his shirt on but didn't button it. He walked up to his sink, and the partition wall, no longer sensing anyone near it, dropped. Hermione, bent double with her hair in front of her face, didn't notice. Draco, however, did, and he also noticed Hermione bent over, her bare breasts fully exposed. If she wasn't a mudblood… Draco shook his head, and turned back around. He finished up quickly and slipped out the door before Hermione finished her hair and stood upright again.

Hermione came out of the bathroom half an hour later, and joined Draco at the table. Twinkle served her a plate, and the two of them ate in silence. Draco finished his first, and the elf whisked it away. "So, Granger, was your bed as comfortable as mine? Sleep well?"

Hermione glanced up in surprise, and mentally shook herself. "Yes, I slept very well, Draco. Did you?"

"Oh yes, very well. Well, I better get to class. You might want to hurry as well."

He stood up, slinging his new bag over his shoulder. "By the way, Hermione, next time you decide to wait until the last minute to do your hair, you might want to put on a bra first. Nice tits."

With that, he walked out. Hermione blushed furiously. She knew he was in the bathroom, but she thought the wall would stay up. Damn, now he had something on her. She put it out of her mind and left for her first class.

After the day's classes had ended, Hermione slowly walked back to the dormitory. She was nervous about seeing Draco again, now that he had seen her half-naked. She thanked her lucky stars that she'd had the sense to put the towel around her waist. Usually she air-dried and did her hair in the buff. Never again, she vowed.

She entered the dormitory and dropped her bag on the floor beside her maroon couch. She flopped onto the soft material and laid her head back against the wall. Draco walked in the dormitory door, and sat down on his own couch, pulling out his folder and laying it on the table. Hermione sat up, avoiding his gaze, and bent down to pick up her own bag. She let her hair fall forward to cover her face as she rummaged in her bag, feeling her face turn red.

Draco stared at her peculiar act, and chuckled, realizing the reason for her embarrassment. "Hermione, don't worry about what happened this morning. We are sharing a shower room, it happens. I'm sure by the end of the year, we will both catch glimpses of each other's entire bodies. I mean, yes, your chest is very nice looking, just about perfect size, but to be honest, I prefer looking at girls who want me to see them. Maybe if one day you want to show them to me, I'll be happy to look but otherwise, just go on and forget what happened. I've seen it all before."

Hermione's eyes flashed to Draco's, and her brown eyes bored into his grey ones. "Draco, did you just hit on me?"

"No, I didn't. I don't hit on girls, Hermione. If I want a girl, I ask her out. Simple as that, because of the fact that I usually won't ask a girl out unless I know for sure she will agree. I know you wouldn't agree, and I am not interested in you that way. I meant exactly what I said. If you want to keep flashing your breasts at me, go ahead but it doesn't mean anything to me unless I know you want me to see them. Just drop it, Granger."

Hermione wanted to argue with him, but knew the subject was closed. She turned her attention to her homework. Draco finished four parchments, rolled them up, and placed them in his bag. He placed the bag next to the couch and stood up, stretching his arms over his head, making his shirt tight so that his muscles were clearly exposed. Hermione caught herself staring at his well-developed chest, and lowered her face to cover the redness again. Draco chuckled again and slipped off his robe. "Don't worry, Hermione. I know my chest is hard to resist."

"Oh, go flatter yourself, Malfoy." Hermione snapped and shoved her books in her bag, stomping up the stairs to her room.

Draco laughed and slowly climbed the stairs to his own room. No matter how much the war had changed him, he still loved to irritate Hermione. Not to mention, he had caught her staring at him which was certain proof she was attracted to him. Not that it mattered, of course. She was a Mudblood, which meant his parents would not approve and dating her would cast him out of the Malfoy fortune. Halfway up, he heard a tapping sound. He jetted back down the stairs, thinking it was someone at the door. However, when he hit the floor, he saw a white square shape pressed up against the window. He crossed to the window and jerked it up. A tiny, miniscule owl hopped it, and dropped the letter, hooting proudly. He twittered and flew around Draco's head a few times before flying back out the window. "What an irritating owl," Draco muttered, and picked up the letter, wondering who would send him a letter by that excuse for an owl. However, when the firelight flashed across the letter face, messy scrawl scratched on the front read "Hermione Granger, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Head's Dormitory."

Draco climbed the stairs to Hermione's dorm room. He knocked timidly on the portrait frame, and the mermaid scowled at him before trilling, "It's the Malfoy boy, miss."

The portrait opened, and Hermione stood there in a powder blue camisole and short shorts, with her robe over it, untied. "What do you need, Draco?"

Draco held out the letter. "This was delivered seconds ago by the tiniest, most irritating owl I have ever had the misfortune to meet."

"Yeah, Pig."

"Excuse me? What exactly did I do to deserve that?"

"What? Pig is the owl's name. His full name is Pigwidgeon. Ginny named him. The owl actually belongs to Ron."

She took the letter and held it to her chest. "Anything else?"

"No, that's about it. Good night."

She nodded politely and closed the door. Draco went into his own dormitory, still reeling over how ridiculously small Pig was. Hermione sat on her bed, sliding to the center and under the covers before opening the letter.

"Dear Hermione,

I hope you are enjoying yourself at Hogwarts, since I know you love it there. I heard about you having to share an apartment with Malfoy, and I truly feel for you. Things are going well here, the joke shop is busier than ever.

I am writing to you to deliver some bad news. The other night, after my shift, I went to the Leaky Cauldron and had a couple of butterbeers. Then I had several shots of firewhiskey, and the next thing I knew I woke up in one of the rooms there, naked, and a tiny little blonde girl was beside me. I woke her up and asked what happened, she said I got drunk and we shagged. I swear I don't remember doing it, but obviously we did because now she's pregnant. I talked to Mum and Dad, and they told me no matter how I felt about you I should be with her because she's carrying my baby. I am so sorry, Hermione. I love you and I will always love you, but that one night of whiskey ended any chance we could be together.

I am so so so sorry, baby. I don't care much for this girl, her personality is not what I want, but I have an obligation and she's all for it. I'm still hoping she might not be pregnant, and I can get out of it and come back to you. I wish I could have told you this in person but number one Hogwarts is too well protected, and number two I don't want Malfoy there. I know I messed up, and nothing I can do or say will ever make this better between us. I just hope that we can still be friends, I love you so much and I don't want this to come between us to the point that I lose my best friend as well as my true love. I am so sorry it came to this. Please respond, honey.

I love you,

Ron"

Hermione stared at the letter, tears welling in her eyes. Seven years of friendship and nearly four months of dating, all thrown away. She crumpled the letter in her fist and let out a keening sob. Not wanting to wake Draco, Hermione jumped up off her bed, tied her robe shut and ran downstairs, collapsing on her couch, sobbing. The open window allowed cool air into the room, so she felt more comfortable here but she couldn't stop the wracking sobs from punching their way out of her chest. The letter fell to the floor as she buried her face in her hands and let the misery take over.

Draco was jerked rather rudely out of a deep sleep as Hermione let out that first keening wail. He heard her run down the stairs, and her echoing sobs made their way to his bedroom. Draco groaned and stood up, too tired to bother with a shirt. He made his way downstairs dressed in only his pants, and found her on her couch, sobbing as though she had just watched her entire family killed.

"Hermione! What on earth are you sobbing for?"

Hermione didn't stop her wailing, just pointing to the letter on the floor before burying her face in her palms again as another batch of wracking sobs slammed out of her chest. Draco stalked over and picked up the letter. He read through it, a strange emotion welling in his chest. He finished it, and struggled for a second before recognizing the emotion as pity. Obviously Ron had become Hermione's boyfriend at some point, probably while they were running from the Ministry.

His pureblood-mania side told him to kick her while she was down and laugh coldly, but he knew that side of him was too much in reserve now to be released. He therefore gave in to his good side, and sat on her couch beside her, pulling her up and laying her torso against his bare chest. He fully expected her to jump away, or possibly hit him. But, to his surprise, she nuzzled into his chest and continued crying, adjusting her body so that she was more comfortable, which happened to be sitting in his lap. She was so tiny that it really wasn't any issue for her to assume this position, but Draco was surprised that she didn't shy away from him.

He didn't have much experience comforting crying girls, since in the past he had taken those opportunites to torment them, but he knew he couldn't torment Hermione. He therefore pulled her closer by wrapping one arm around her back and one around her legs, and he moved her so her head was resting beneath his shoulder. Tears streaked her face, and ran down his chest. Draco began to rock her slightly, rubbing his hand on the silky material covering her back and making soft shushing noises. He hugged her to him, letting his new, improved side take over. He surprised himself by gently kissing her forehead, his fingers tangling in her hair.

They sat this way until the clock over the fireplace read one o'clock in the morning, and Hermione's sobs quieted down, and her eyes slid shut. A gentle, soft snore started, so Draco stood up with her. He carried her up the stairs, pausing in front of her portrait. "She fell asleep. Can you let me in so I can put her to bed?"

"Password?"

"I don't have it. I don't want it, I just want to put her to bed."

"Sorry! No password, no entry!" the mermaid trilled, and went back to brushing her long blonde hair.

Draco barely stopped himself from cursing, and moved to the other portrait. "34C." It opened, and Draco stepped inside. Hermione would kill him for this when she woke up, but he didn't have a choice and he didn't want her in pain from sleeping on the couch. He placed her in the king-sized bed, and covered her up. He kissed her forehead again, and then climbed in the other side, laying on his back. Hermione was dead asleep, but she rolled over to him, pushing her head into the crook of his shoulder, and draping one leg over his, putting her hand on his bare chest. She nuzzled into him, as though he were her lover.

Deciding not to bother her, he shrugged and closed his eyes.