The War is over, but everything turns sour when Hermione is pushed away by friends and she finds love and comfort in the awaiting arms of Draco Malfoy. "Do you regret what we did last night, Granger?" "No. Do you?" "Not in the slightest, Hermione. You deserve better."

Disclaimer: I owe nothing :( Everything Harry Potter related belongs to our Queen J.K. Rowling. Any references, quotes or mentions I use during this story belongs to their respected owner and anything you don't recognise comes from the murky depths of my madness! Cover art belongs to Hacques on deviantart.

Chapter One

How It All Began

Sixth Year

For the first time in Draco Malfoy's life, he did not know what to do. He stared helplessly at the impossible task before him. On top of that he was extremely frustrated and angry - frustrated that he cannot come up with anything and whatever he tries to do was just as fruitless. It finally dawned on him like a ton of bricks when a whisper in his head had gotten louder and told him that he was destined for failure. The Dark Lord wanted him to fail, to not be able to carry out his task so He could kill the youngest Malfoy for his father's own failures. Draco was angry at Lucius for his failure at the Ministry, for supporting a mad man, for burning their family name down to utter shame but what Draco was most angry about was the fact that Lucius willingly dangled Draco in front of the Dark Lord as if he was bait, a lamb ready to be sacrificed just to appease the gods. To appease the Dark Lord. And appeased the Dark Lord was. The evidence of the Dark Lord's appeasement was etched viciously against his pale skin, constantly reminding him of his task, a task beyond the bounds of mere execution. But He was getting impatient and Draco was running out of time when it came to his impossible task.

Draco violently slammed the doors of the Vanishing Cabinet, the source of his misery, turned sharply on his heels and stormed out of the Room Of Requirement not caring that he nearly knocked Blaise off his feet as he rounded off the corner.

Blaise frowned and opened his mouth to say something but decided against it and just carried on walking, ignoring the fact that Draco had the face of thunder. He knew that it'll only be useless to try and stop the blond and concluded that he didn't want to lose his life. He was too young to die.

Draco's frustration and anger swirled inside like angry red tide, which made his blood boil and grew into his skin. He was just so damn tired of his mission. With every step he took, every negative feelings in his body bubbled up and radiate off him. Bursting into the first door he could find, which happened to be the boys' bathroom, he head worked himself up so badly that he was literally seeing red. He slammed the door behind him, marched towards the basins and placed his hands on either side of the basin, gripping so tightly his knuckles turned white. His breathing had gone erratic, his chest heaving so roughly and he was breathing so fast his brain was starting to be starved off air.

Draco's mind raced with thoughts, they whizzed and flew around he couldn't keep up. They ricocheted around, bouncing off another and flew past his eyes like ghosts. How could Lucius allowed him to be pushed into a position Draco didn't want to be in? Lucius was suppose to protect him from such situations but at that thought, Draco snorted. Lucius didn't care, he just wanted to be in the Dark Lord's good graces despite the payment. And the payment for such grace is Draco's young life. Draco knew that his days were numbered and this sent shudders coursing through his body. Draco didn't fear death, he would embrace it when it dawns upon him but it's the realisation of failure that got him panicking. Draco craved perfection and failure in his eyes was not a choice. He taught himself from a very young age that perfection was the key to everything and he ate his heart out just to achieve it. Draco knew the reason for his yearning was to make his father proud, to grasp at the affection that he had been starved as a child, affection that had been replaced by expensive gifts, but he knew he'll never make his father proud. His failure when it came to his impossible task would be the icing on the cake. Draco would disappoint Lucius beyond the point of shame. If the Dark Lord doesn't kill him then Lucius would do the honour. Draco mused that he didn't deserve the Malfoy name, he was a failure, a disappointment, a shame on his family name and at that Draco let out a strangled laugh. He was a failure.

Draco turned the tap and cursed out loud when it didn't work. "Not you too, for fuck's sake!"

Draco kicked at the basin, knowing how his outburst of violence will not solve anything. He looked up and his eyes met his reflection. The boy staring back at him looked so forsaken, so desperate for a way out but Draco knew he couldn't back out now. He was in too deep, he could never resurface from the darkness that closed in on him. There was no light in his blackened world and this disheartened him. He knew he always had a dark heart, he was a Malfoy after all and Malfoys never showed any affection. Malfoys were cold beings, no spark of warmth or light in them and they would never know love. But Draco's heart ached for a way out, or a way to succeed in his task but this hope ebbed away from him like tide. He was trapped, and he had two choices; succeed and he'll see the morning light or fail and be killed. He was running out of time and he was still no where near completing his task. He was a Slytherin for crying out loud, and he was suppose to be cunning and sly yet these characteristics were robbed away from him when he was set his mission. Again and again, he chanted his mantra of think of a plan, and stick to it, but alas he went through many plans and they were as futile as the previous ones.

With a frustrated scream, Draco swung his fist around and strike the mirror, watching as it cracked and crashed into the basin, his reflection disappearing with the small pieces of glass. He could no longer stand looking at his reflection, the way he looked as if his skin was permanently dyed a sickly stain of grey, the way he had dark circles around his cold steel eyes giving him that haunted and hurt look, the way his shoulders slumped and the obvious sign that he had lost weight. Every time he catches his reflection he is reminded of his impossible task and this gets his blood boiling. Draco rubbed his face with his uninjured hand and dropped himself on the ground with a thump. With his back against the wall, he pulled his knees towards his chest and buried his face into the crook it made as he cradled his injured hand. He didn't care that he was getting blood all over his clothes. He was just so... tired. He just wanted to forget about everything and wished for things to disappear. Maybe if he stayed curled up in the boys' bathroom long enough, he'll disappear and fade away so he doesn't have to face the consequences of his looming failure. It was cowardly, Draco mused, but he was a Slytherin and he belonged to the house of a bunch of cowards. And he was the biggest coward of all. Draco tried to blink away the tears that pooled in his eyes but his cold grey eyes betrayed him and they fell freely, staining his face and sobs racked through him violently. Tears were foreign to Draco's pale face but at this moment in time he needed to let it all out. He was just fucking exhausted.

"Hello? Anybody there?" A small voice echoed around the bathroom but this went unheard by Draco who's pain escaped him in salty tears. The owner of the voice gasped when they saw a crying Draco curled upright with the broken mirror and blood splatter all over the basin.

"Malfoy?" Hermione Granger frowned before taking a tentative step towards the blond in a delicate state. She called out once more when Draco snapped his head up and glared at the witch before him.

"Go away, Granger." Draco declared flashing her his meanest glare but it did nothing to deter Hermione. In fact it looked odd, like it didn't belong on his tear stained face.

"No. I heard a crash in here and as a prefect it's within my duties to check it out." Hermione replied pushing her chin up slightly as she crossed her arms over her chest but the hard look on her face softened when she looked at Draco in his beaten state. He looked like he just gave up.

"This is the boys' bathroom, Granger." Draco glared once more, childishly wiping tears from his cheeks only to smear blood on his pale face.

"No one's here apart from you, Malfoy." Hermione kept her defiant front which only made Draco scowl even more. Of course no one was around, they're all stuffing their faces down in the Great Hall, pretending to be merry and ignoring the fact that the dark days are about to reach them. How can they be so calm when war is literally going to be on their doorsteps? Ah. Of course, they all convinced themselves that Saint Potter will save them from the war. He is the Chosen One after all. Their hero, their saviour. Everything will be fine. How foolish, lulling themselves into false sense of security. But Draco knew better. War is coming and when it hits them Harry Potter won't save them all.

"Well I don't want you here, so jog on Granger. Go do that you Gryffindors do in your spare time. Don't you have some Potter arse kissing to do like the good little lion cub you are?" Draco's face crumpled into a rueful grimace and waved her away with his injured hand.

"You're an arse, Draco Malfoy." Hermione scolded him and placed her hands on her hips. "But I won't go away until you tell me the reason you destroy school property. There's something going on here, and don't you dare lie to me, Malfoy. I know there's something wrong with you this year."

"There's nothing wrong with me." Draco frowned.

"Don't lie. You're not participating in class, you're always distracted and you always look as if you had no sleep. Hell, you don't even antagonise anyone, anymore!" Hermione huffed.

"Why, Granger, you sound as if you actually care!" Draco curved his lips into his usual arrogant smirk but to anyone with eyes could tell it was forced.

"I don't care." Hermione replied a little bit too quickly.

"Well I apologise Granger, next time I see you I'll insult you and your little pride of lions so badly your squib cousin will blush. I'll even throw in a couple of hexes just to make up for lost chances." Draco drawled sarcastically.

"Go to hell, Malfoy."

"I'll make sure I give the devil your regards."

"Let me look at your hand." Hermione thrust her hand out expectantly in front of Draco.

"Pardon?" Draco frowned, knitting his pale eyebrows into a deep crease.

"Give me your hand." Hermione repeated slowly as if she was talking to a child and waved her hand slightly telling him that she won't budge from her odd request.

Draco arched his eyebrows which only made Hermione sneer. "Don't worry, Malfoy, you won't catch my Mudblood germs by touching my hand."

"You think I'm worried of catching your germs?"

"I don't think, Malfoy, I know. You're Draco Malfoy after all and blood purity is all you care about." Hermione answered impatiently.

"Don't you ever dare assume you know a thing about me, Granger. Ever." Draco hissed darkly at Hermione making her wince slightly at the venom in his voice. How dare she think that she's got him cracked. Like she had deduced him just by looking at him. She knew nothing and she was definitely so far away from the truth she hasn't even scratch the surface.

"Don't a prat, Malfoy." Hermione snatched his injured hand and began to inspect it before she poked at his bloody and bruised knuckles which only made him hiss out. Hermione made a clicking noise with her tongue against her cheeks, dropped his hand just as quickly as she snatched it and began to riffle through her bag. She smiled at the thing she was looking for, made a satisfactory noise and pulled out a shrunken green bag with a white cross on it. Hermione kneeled beside him, waved her wand at the bag and it reverted back to its original size before she set it in between them.

Draco surprised himself by remaining silent and just watched as Hermione fussed around with the bag which He soon found to be a first aid kit. A muggle one. When everything was ready, he allowed Hermione to gently picked his hand up once more and was amazed at how her small, delicate hands fit his long aristocratic hand, which was once described as hands of an artist or a musician, perfectly.

"What is it with boys and punching things just to get their anger out." Hermione tutted as she took a metal tweezers and began to pick out the few pieces of glass that was embedded into his skin. Draco drew in a sharp breath but Hermione ignored his discomfort and continued pulling them out.

"It's an ego thing." Draco retorted.

"Clearly." Hermione replied dryly.

"Why are you carrying muggle first aid kit around. Aren't you a witch, Granger?" Draco snapped then hissed when Hermione, without a warning, pressed an ointment soaked cotton wool against his knuckles.

"I am a witch but there are things you have to do the Muggle way. And hopefully this will teach you to think before punching another mirror or anything else." Hermione tightened her grip on his hand to prevent him from pulling his hand away as she cleaned his wounded hand.

"Sadistic witch." Draco grumbled under his breath as Hermione applied a different ointment but instead of it stinging like the previous one, it cooled and soothed his injured hand.

Silence developed over them and Hermione blew softly on his knuckles, claiming that the ointment must dry first before she wrapped his hand with fresh white bandages expertly, as if she has done it before. But she surprised both of them when she grazed his bandaged hand with her lips. She gasped when she realised what she had done and Draco's eyes widened slightly.

"I-I'm sorry." Hermione stuttered, a pink blush tainted her cheeks. "I don't know what came over me. My mum always kissed my injuries."

"Don't worry about it, Granger." Draco pulled his hand away from her warm grip and placed it on his lap.

"Tell me what's wrong, Malfoy." Hermione said softly, looking at him momentarily before she packed her first aid kit, shrunk it and placed it in her bag. She waved her wand at the bloody pieces of glass and the cotton wool she used to clean up his blood and they disappeared. After that, she placed herself in the same position as Draco was in and waited for the blond to reply.

"I-I can't."

"Of course you can." Hermione replied, sounding a little too optimistic. "You know, a problem shared is a problem halved. Sometimes telling a stranger your troubles does help."

"Your not a stranger, Granger." Draco sighed, running his hand through his hair.

"I'm as good as. You know my name, Malfoy, not my life story. And the same with you, I only know your name and maybe I can guess at your favourite colour, but that's it." Hermione said, with a small smile on her face, as she rested her head against the wall.

"What is my favourite colour?" Draco asked curiously. People had always assumed that his favourite colour was green being a Slytherin or maybe even black. But of course they're all wrong, and Draco was curious as to what Hermione Granger thought his favourite colour was.

"Red." Hermione grinned boldly.

"Are you sure about that?" For the second time, Draco's eyes widened slightly.

"Not blood red. More like... sunset red, you know that beautiful shade of red its almost orange. Am I right?" Hermione titled her head slightly to the side.

"Yes." Draco whispered. "How did you know?" No one had ever guessed his favourite colour. Sunset red was his favourite colour because it was the first happy memory he had and it was the first thing he saw when he visited Italy for the first time. He was a young boy and he was apparated straight into the Zabini Villa by the coast of Naples and the first thing he saw out the window was the setting sun in all it's dying glory. It signified a happier side of his young childhood and it was always held dear to him.

"It's my favourite colour as well." Hermione shrugged with a sheepish grin which made Draco smile ever so slightly. "Anyway, you don't seem to be the one who likes green despite being a Slytherin. It's just so common. And even though you wear a lot of black you are a bit of a mystery and being as enigmatic as you are I thought you'd be more towards liking a colour not associated with anything people would think you'd like. You're the type of person who would keep people guessing. I also took a gamble."

For the first time, Draco Malfoy saw Hermione Granger differently. She was not just a Mudblood, but very much a competent witch with a heart full of compassion despite the way he treated her. She listened to his troubles without a fuss, without judging. She just listened, nothing more and nothing else. Of course he never told the finer details of his mission and she never pressed for them and at this, Draco was thankful.

And maybe, just maybe, for the first time Draco Malfoy saw a glimpse of his way out. A flicker of light in this dark world and it came in the form of Hermione Granger. She could save him from the darkness, she would be his hero. His saviour. Others had the Chosen One, Harry Potter, but Draco had the Brightest Witch of their Age. She was to be his blessing in disguise. He doesn't know it now, but Hermione Granger would change his life. She would give him another chance, and a second chance is all he needs. She was the light that would guide him even though Draco was convince that she will not stay. She will help him then she'll be gone like the wind. But the knowledge that she'll give him the strength he needed in the upcoming war and that's all he needed. Who would have thought, Hermione Jean Granger would become Draco Lucius Malfoy's guardian angel?

A/N: Hey guys, I was not really planning to publish the prequel until I finished Silver Eyes Of Mine but I couldn't help myself. I wrote this today and I was just itching to get this out there! :3 So, hope you all like it and review! I want to know what you think and in the next chapter it'll be after the War and everyone is back at Hogwarts! Love you all, bye! Xx