Author's Note: I wrote this story over a year ago and just now read it. I feel as if I should not touch or change it whatsoever. There is only one slight change that you can't even notice, doesn't even change the storyline at all. But I hope you like it. I was listening to a lot of Page Avenue by Story of the Year while writing this. I can tell because while reading it I put ON Story of the Year and was like "I must have been listening to this" cause it puts me in the mood for this story. Yeah, I'm confusing myself right now, but don't worry about it. It's late, I'm posting this just to get it out there. Once again, I hope you like it.

Disclaimer- I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters in it.

Guilt Trip

Running down a dark corridor within Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Draco Malfoy was out well passed curfew. Although, any teachers that were within the school were currently investigating the area from where he had just departed from.

Not that he had anything to do with what happened, of course. It was one of those wrong-place-at-the-wrong-time things. Honestly. So what if the scene just happened to involve Granger being hung upside-down from a chandelier in the Entrance Hall? And, so what if Draco had sworn to Granger he would get revenge for bumping into him and making him drop his books that afternoon? Merely a coincidence. It was not his fault what-so-ever.

He rushed passed the Potions classroom door, and continued on his way to the Slytherin Common Room. Thankfully, none of the teachers who had been alerted to come and help get Granger down had seen him standing near the door to the dungeons. Nor had any seen him leave.

Draco smiled to himself as he approached the stone-wall, gave the password (blubber-fuss), and entered the empty Common Room. The embers in the fireplace were glowing, but there was no fire to warm the room. Just the way he liked it. He lay down on the black and green couch. As he was closing his eyes, he heard the wall slide open again, then—

"Malfoy!"

Draco jumped to his feet immediately at the sound of Professor Severus Snape's voice. "Yes, Professor?" he asked, not making eye contact but instead looking at Snape's large nose.

"I saw what you did," he answered simply, "and I know why."

Draco tried to put on an innocent face. "What are you talking about, Professor?"

"You know what I am talking about," Snape said, now irritated.

"And if I don't?" he shot back.

"Let's just say," Snape answered, his voice steadily growing louder, "that you'd have no need to return on the train after Christmas break."

Draco swallowed. "Are you going to tell the Headmaster?"

Snape's lip curled, and then he shook his head. "But there will be a punishment," he explained, sounding thoroughly annoyed, "that I myself give you. See me at once in the morning, before you eat breakfast. Now get to bed before I change my mind."

With his black cloak billowing behind him, he exited the Common Room.

Draco had a hard time falling asleep that night, his head full of thought. He was worried about what Snape would be making him do. And once or twice, though he was quick to erase it, he was worried about whether or not Granger was severely injured.

'She deserved it,' he would tell himself when these thoughts arouse. 'She doesn't deserve to even look at me.'

By the time he had fallen asleep, the sun had begun to rise.

With the little sleep he got, he was tempted to just skive off classes for the whole day and sleep, but suddenly remembered the night before.

Draco did not want to anger Snape further, and skipped his usual routine of slicking back his hair in the morning, spending a mere two minutes changing. He emerged from the dormitory looking rather tired and unkempt.

He quickly brushed passed shrieking Pansy ("What's wrong, honey?"), and headed for Snape's office with his bag slung over his shoulder.

Draco knocked on the door.

He heard a shuffling of papers, then Snape's voice say, "Come in."

He entered and walked in front of Snape's neat desk.

"Sit down," Snape commanded; Draco obeyed.

"You know why you are here," the Potion's Master said. "I would just like to say that I am very, very disappointed in you," his voice was barely above a whisper, "and that I have informed your father."

Draco's eyes widened at the mention of his father. "Wh-what? But you said—"

"I said I was not going to tell the Headmaster, we never discussed telling your father," Snape told him, his voice remaining steady. "Now, I believe I have come up with an appropriate first punishment."

Draco asked, "Which is?"

"Clean my office and my classroom," he answered.

Draco sighed, nodded, then stood and put his bag on his shoulder again.

He was about to leave, but hesitated. "Would you mind telling me something, Professor?"

Snape placed papers in his desk. "I suppose you can ask." He continued shuffling papers.

"What happened to Granger?"

The Professor's head shot up. "What? You know what happened, you did it."

"What I mean is… is she hurt?"

Snape looked confused. "I do not know the answer to that."

Draco nodded slowly. "Thank you anyway." He left the office.

As he walked up the stairs and into the Entrance Hall, he couldn't help but wonder what had come over him. Was he suddenly feeling guilty?

Of course not, Malfoy's never regret what they do. And they especially don't feel bad for hurting a Mudblood. Draco looked up as he walked through the Entrance Hall. There was the chandelier that Granger had hung from the previous night, tied with ropes.

'That looks high,' he thought to himself, 'Wait! Am I feeling guilty again? I must not feel guilty,' he told himself, 'she got what she deserved.'

He looked down at the floor, and entered the Great Hall with his eyes still on his feet.

He turned to head for the Slytherin table, when someone bumped into him. He looked up and saw Granger.

"Watch where you're going Mudblood," he snapped, "You really should learn to tame your hair, that way you can see properly."

Draco so did not feel guilty.

He smirked, feeling so much better.

Granger seemed to have had a loss for words.

And she seemed different, much different.

There was something about the way she looked, more uncaring about her appearance.

She looked worn, much like he did.

And she looked scared.

No, terrified.

He continued his smirk, though he was quite sure of the emotion that Granger had just shown, and hurried to the Slytherin table. Draco didn't end up eating much, and barely touched his goblet.

Five minutes before class started, he stood, grabbed his bag, and walked out of the Great Hall.

But he had no intention of attending class.

---

Draco woke up around dinnertime. Well, to wake up, one must first be asleep. So, really, he got out of bed at dinnertime. He had been awake for the past few hours. For some reason, the thought of Granger's face was in his mind, and had caused him to not get any sleep that he direly needed.

'You can't let her get to you like this,' he told himself as he got up. 'She got what she deserved.'

'But she did just bump into you accidentally,' another voice told him. 'You saw the look on her face in the Great Hall, she was frightened to death.'

'She got what she deserve,' the Malfoy part assured him. He exited the dormitory, walked through the Common Room, and went though the corridor near the Potions classroom, heading for the Great Hall. As he was climbing the stairs, the voice of Professor Snape called him. He wondered whether he would make it if he just ran for it, and regrettably turned toward the Professor.

"Yes, Professor?" he asked politely.

"You will clean my office and classroom now," Snape answered him.

Draco looked at him in disbelief. "But I was going to dinner."

"Not until you are done with my office and classroom," Snape said.

Draco gave up, and trudged off towards Snape's office.

"No magic either!" Snape called coldly behind him.

By the time Draco had finished cleaning dinner was long over (Who knew there were that many colors that a potion could change the floor?). He had already been exhausted when he started, and now he didn't know what to call it.

"Guilt" was the word that was in the back of his head, he had pushed it as far as it would go.

Professor Snape came into the classroom around eleven. He inspected the room, and then turned to Draco. "That was just one part of your punishment," he told him. "The next will be slightly more challenging on your pride.

"Next," he continued, now pacing, "you must apologize to Ms. Granger."

"But Professor—"

"Do not interrupt me. As I was saying, that is the next part of your punishment. Ms. Granger shall not hear that this is punishment. It must be heard by her as a sincere apology. No wait, it has to be a sincere apology."

Draco didn't protest, but glared as he left. He would just skip it, there was no way he would be able to sincerely apologize to Perfect Prissy Princess Granger.

---

Draco forgot it was the last day of term, and Christmas break was now started. He had been planning on returning home on the Hogwarts Express for Christmas, but he just then changed his mind.

The first thing he did in the morning was send a letter to his parents, saying that the workload they had been given was extremely large.

It was a good enough excuse, he figured.

The second thing he did was go to the library. Not on purpose though, his feet just seemed to lead him there. His betraying feet then sat him across from Granger, who was hidden behind a book and seemed unperturbed by his presence.

Draco sat there for a minute, not knowing what to do. Part of him, the Malfoy part, urged him to make some rude remark about her reading. Another part, the little conscience part he had, was telling him to apologize and get it over with.

The Malfoy part won of course.

"You act like you need to read more," he said loudly, causing Granger to start so bad the book she was reading fell to the ground. She looked at the book, then back at him. She stood up quickly, swinging her bag over her shoulder, and rushing out of the library.

The Malfoy part seemed to have possessed him at the moment.

"Are you going to cry now?" he smirked as he followed her down a deserted corridor. "Go on, run to Potty and Weasel, whichever one you're shagging at the moment." He could see tears now falling down her face as he walked beside her. "Although, I wouldn't be surprised if you were shagging them both. It'd be no use wondering in why they are in such a bad mood all the time, with you being their shag. I myself would be rather upset if I too could only shag an ugly-"

"Mudblood?" Granger stopped abruptly and turned to him, tears now rushing down her face.

Draco shifted uncomfortably, and he noticed that Granger flinched. She also backed away from him slightly. She looked away from him, and had the same terror on her face that she had when they had bumped into each other the day before.

The Malfoy part of Draco took over again. "I'd really like to know what you're thinking," he pulled out his wand quickly, "Incursio mentis."

Thoughts flooded his head from Granger's point of view, her emotions coursing through him.

He was shocked as his mind was filled with memories not his own. The first time he called her a Mudblood; the tears afterwards; the time she punched him; walking down an isle, two coffins at the end, while extreme sadness overcame him; Draco smirking as he cornered her, stunning her; the begging for him to let her down; fear.

Draco let go of her mind; she collapsed onto the floor, shaking with sobs.

Breathing heavily, he shook his head.

"I never— I'm not..." He couldn't think straight anymore, so he ran. Just turned around and ran.

Draco didn't know where he was going until he stopped; the lake. On the far side of the grounds, the fog on the grounds that day barely permitted him to see the outline of the castle. But he didn't care if he could see the castle. He didn't care where he was. His mind was too full of what just happened. Those memories, all seemed to pertain to him somehow. But one in particular stuck out like a sore thumb. A funeral. Draco knew for a fact he had never kill anyone. So how did that funeral relate to him?

And she had been shaking so badly after he had invaded her mind... was she all right?

'Wait one bloody second,' the Malfoy part spoke. 'You're feeling guilty again. She got what she deserved.'

'But what exactly did she do?' the other, newly found part debated.

'She's a Mudblood,' answered the Malfoy part.

He shook his head, trying to stop the arguing voices. He couldn't feel guilty for doing that. She got what she deserved.

With that thought in mind, and his thoughts happily lighter, he headed back for the castle. But something stopped him. Someone was hunched over, sitting in the corner of where the stairs met the castle. Normally, he would just walk by. But this time was different, because this time it was Granger. She was sobbing uncontrollably still; shaking. The wind blew her hair around messily as she continued to sob into her knees.

"Granger?" he asked incredulously. Of course, he had seen her cry before, but never like this. Never because of him.

She looked up. Once she saw him, however, she jumped to her feet. "St-stay away fr-from me," she shivered. There was nowhere for her to run; she had literally placed herself in a corner. "D-don't t-touch me."

Draco was startled and furrowed his brow. "I wasn't going to-"

"D-don't you t-try a-and b-be all innocent," she continued to sob, inching sideways. "A-all you M-Malfoys are the s-same. J-just like V-Voldemort. Muggle-born h-haters. Mudblood killers."

Something clicked inside Draco's mind. She had been flinching at the site of him since they had returned from summer break... she had that terrified look in her eyes every time he was near her. Something had happened during the summer. Something that made Potter and Weasley move closer to her whenever they walked passed each other in the halls. The funeral.

He suddenly remembered hearing his father say something about "Those filthy Mudblood's parents." About how they would regret ever having her.

"My father killed one of your parents," he said quietly. "He killed one of them, and you think I'm like him."

Granger shook her head. "No, h-he killed both m-my parents. B-but we o-only ever found a-ashes o-of my m-mother."

He shook his head, still in disbelief that he had never known. "I didn't know," he told her quietly, almost politely. But that sting was still in his voice, and she flinched once more. She was still shivering, and he noticed she was not wearing a cloak or sweater. He removed his cloak, the other voice winning one time. "Here," he said, holding it out to her.

She looked at the cloak for a moment, than took it. Draco couldn't tell if it was out of fear or gratitude.

"Don't tell me you don't know how to put on a cloak," Draco snapped.

The Malfoy part was back.

"If you're going to take this for granted," he said annoyingly, "than give me back my cloak."

Granger gave him another questioning look.

"T-there's something w-wrong with y-you," she said slowly. "Can't y-you b-be nice for o-over an m-minute?"

"Put on the cloak before the hypothermia kills you," he demanded. "You're not going to die today."

Granger hesitated for a moment, but then put the cloak on.

They walked to the entrance of the castle together in dead silence.

"Just keep the cloak," Draco told her, "I don't know what kind of diseases you could have."

They separated once they entered the Entrance Hall.

Granger walked up the Grand Staircase without a glance back at Draco, but he watched her until he couldn't see her any longer.

"Draco!" Pansy's shrill voice called from behind him.

He turned around just in time to be practically tackled by Pansy, who then gave him a bone-crushing hug.

"Get off, Pansy!" He pushed her off of him.

She tried to look hurt. "But, Drakie-Poo, I am ever so worried about you."

"Please, Pansy, just leave me alone for a little while. I need air sometimes," he told her. "I can't go around all day smelling your perfume.'

She grinned. "It'd make you be too wild?"

"No, it'd make me constantly sick."

Pansy ignored what he said. "What were you doing with that Mudblood?"

"Nothing," he lied, "we just happened to be walking in at the same time."

As he walked with Pansy back to the Slytherin Common Room, he couldn't help but feel even more guilt surging through him.

Draco had another restless night's sleep. He fell asleep before the sun started rising, but was woken early in the morning by a loud knock on the dormitory door. Draco decided to ignore it, and tried to get back asleep. He was the only one in his dorm now, because everyone else had gone home. Suddenly, the door to his dorm burst open and in strode Professor Snape, carrying a vial. He thrust it in Draco's face.

"Drink it, your father asked me to make it for you," he told him. Draco was not one to question his father, and drank the vial in one swig, handing it back to the professor empty. With only a curt nod Snape swept from the room quickly. As Draco drifted into a peaceful sleep, he did not once consider what had been contained in the vial.

When Draco woke up, it was late in the morning, and he felt better than he had in weeks. For some strange reason, all the guilt surging through him had disappeared.

But even though he felt good, he hurried out of his room and the Common Room without fixing his hair.

Pulling his cloak tight around him, he walked onto the grounds, and found what he was looking for.

Granger, Potter, and Weasley having a snow ball fight.

He smirked and headed in their direction, hoping he'd be able to make their day miserable as soon as possible.

Granger, who had been about to throw a snow ball at Potter, stopped and frowned immediately. The other two saw who she was looking at, and followed suit.

"Don't stop on a count of me," he told them, "I'm only here to bother Granger."

Potter was quick to rush in front of Granger.

"Don't bother her," he told Draco through clenched teeth.

"That answers my question then," Draco smirked, "Granger and Potter. Although, I always figured it would be Weasley, not Potter. Much better taste Granger, go for the one with the fame, and the money."

"Shove off, Malfoy!" Weasley yelled.

"Did I hit a sore spot? Cause," Draco continued, "I would love to continue bothering you about it."

"There is nothing going on with me and Harry," Granger spoke up.

Potter nodded. "Nothing."

Draco shrugged. "Fine," he said, "keep denying it."

He smirked one last time, and turned to leave.

A few days went by, and it was now Christmas Eve. Draco had not had one pang of guilt at all, and his life just seemed to get better as the days passed.

Draco was walking without a destination around the school. Suddenly he heard hushed talking. He was quick to hide himself behind a nearby suit of armor.

The voices grew closer.

"But, Harry," it was Granger, "I can't tell Ron this. I can't tell anyone. You're the only one who knows. Some curse or hex Malfoy used that night, I can't sleep. He did something to me. Something that causes me to look behind my shoulder every two minutes when I'm walking down the hall alone, and makes me so terrified when I see him. He did something," she continued, "that is part of the Dark Arts. Something that no one can fix. He-"

Potter stopped walking. "Gave you fear."

Granger stopped too.

"There's not a spell strong enough or dark enough to do something like that, Hermione," Potter explained. "It wasn't a spell, it was just all that he's done to you, and it's built up so much."

"I didn't think of that," Granger said.

"But it makes sense."

Granger nodded. "It does."

Potter looked at his watch. "I have to go do something right now," he said, "And it will take me a while. Go to the library, or take a walk."

She nodded again. Potter turned and walked away from Granger, who stood for a moment before moving.

With a glance behind her shoulder, Granger started heading in the direction of the library. Quietly and slowly, Draco followed her.

He decided to make himself noticed, and cleared his throat.

She jumped and turned around.

"Leave me alone," she said timidly.

He tried to look innocent. "I was just heading for the library. That's not illegal, is it?"

She shook her head, and started back on her way to the library. "It should if you're involved," he heard her say.

He smirked and followed a few paces behind her. "When are you going to return my cloak?" he said, "Which you are wearing right now…"

"It was the first cloak I could find this morning," she said without faltering.

"It's not like I need it anyway," explained Draco, "I was just wondering."

"Why would you want a cloak worn by a Mudblood?" she asked darkly, still walking.

"Usually I wouldn't," he told her, "But that cloak was my favorite one. The one that was my father's."

Granger stopped. "Your father wore this?"

Draco smirked again. "Does it turn you on or something?"

"No," she said, "it disgusts me."

"You should be happy to even be near," he told her sternly, "clothing worn by such an honorable man."

"Honorable how?" Granger asked him. "For being a Death Eater? For supporting the worst thing that ever happened to the world? For having the most despicable son to pass on the hate? For being such a-"

Draco's wand was out and at her throat before she could finish.

"Go on," he threatened, "complete the sentence. See what I'll do next."

The terror that had been in her eyes before returned. He lowered his wand and backed away, shaking his head.

"Take the cloak," he said softly, "Burn it if you want. I don't want it either."

He turned to walk away.

"Malfoy, wait!" Granger called behind him.

Draco turned back to face her hesitantly.

"What, Granger?" he said tiredly. "I have to…go."

"I'm sorry," she told him.

He furrowed his brow. "For what?"

She didn't answer, but tears silently slid down her cheeks. "Everything," said Granger when she finally spoke.

"You didn't do anything," Draco told her.

"If I didn't do anything, than why do you always bother me?" she asked calmly. "I had to have done something to deserve this. Tell me what I did!"

Guilt was creeping into Draco again.

What had she done? Bump into him in the hallway?

'No,' his Malfoy part sneered, 'she's a Mudblood.'

The guilt left as quickly as it had come.

Draco smirked. "Well," he started, "you are a Mudblood. You have no right to be here. You don't deserve to be here. I'm just trying to make you see this."

"I can't choose what I am!"

'She's right,' his conscience told him.

"Shut up!" he told himself out loud.

Granger looked taken back.

"Not you," he said snidely.

"I know I'm right," she said, the tears slowly stopping. "I cannot control what you do, but I can tell you that you don't have to be your father."

Draco looked at her unsurely, the last sentence she said ringing in his head.

"You're the first person to ever say that."

She now looked at him unsurely. "You never realized that?"

He shook his head. "Never."

They stood in an awkward silence while Draco absorbed the thought of not having to be like his father.

To Granger's surprise, Draco suddenly smiled widely.

"Granger," he said, "I could kiss you."

She blushed. "Please don't."

They suddenly heard footsteps and Draco's smile fell.

"This didn't happen," he told her sternly, and he turned and rushed away.

But as he walked a few steps down the corridor, he remembered what she had said and turned back around. Unexpectedly, Granger was still standing there.

"As you said," he answered her questioning look, "I don't have to be my father."

As they started walking together, they passed the person who had broken them up, it was a young first-year student Draco couldn't name, but knew they were in Slytherin.

The little boy flushed as Draco smiled at him, and hurried away.

He ignored the boys fright and turned to Granger, who was walking a couple of feet away from him.

"Library, Hermione?" he asked.

Hermione looked confused, but nodded. "Sure."

As they arrived in the library, Draco led Hermione towards a secluded spot between several shelves of books. She hesitated at first, but followed.

There was a rather comfy looking couch and an armchair in this spot, and Draco sat in the armchair at once.

"I don't think that I've read any books from this section," Hermione admitted, sitting on the far end of the couch. She also seemed to be clenching something in her pocket, which Draco could only guess to be her wand.

"Well," said Draco as he reclined on the chair, "it is a section on Dark Arts. Not as extensive, or dark, as the library at home has, but it has some interesting material."

"I'm surprised," she told him," you just bragged without insulting me."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Don't call me your friend or anything sappy like that."

"I wasn't going to," Hermione said as she blushed. "It's just-"

"What?" Draco snapped. "If you want to leave or something, do it!"

"I-I didn't say that."

Draco shook his head, his anger burning in his gray eyes.

Hermione stood up quickly upon seeing this. "I th-think I will leave."

"No!" Draco demanded as he stood to block her. "You can't leave."

Hermione stepped sideways. "Please," she begged, "just let me leave."

"No."

"I really have to get back to-"

"No," he said more forcefully.

"P-please," Hermione said as tears started forming in her red eyes.

"No," he repeated.

He looked at her eyes that were glistening with tears. His eyes trailed down, passed her nose, onto her trembling red, full lips. Down even further, to her hand clutched over her chest.

Draco pulled himself out of his reverie, looking Hermione in the eye again.

"What are you doing?" she asked as he involuntarily stepped forward.

Draco didn't answer, but stepped forward even more until he was face to face with her. He then answered, "I don't know."

Draco put his hand on Hermione's chin and pulled her lips to his own.

It felt as if the world had stopped spinning. It felt as if at any moment Draco would float away.

He was brought back to Earth when, however, when Hermione pushed him away, blushing furiously.

"I-you-that," was all she could say. Than she turned and rushed out of the library before Draco could act.

His mind was still on the kiss they just shared.

Draco had never felt anything like it.

Such happiness, such bliss.

Every problem and every worry had seemed to disappear.

Once Draco pulled himself out of his musings, his mind processed that Hermione had left.

He walked in a dream-like state out of the library, in search of Hermione.

Draco wanted more.

He needed more.

He didn't have to go far to find her. She was sitting on the floor a few corridors away, her knees hugged to her chest as she sobbed into her hands.

Draco had no idea what to do.

He looked around nervously, than knelt down in front of her.

"What's…um…wrong?" he asked.

Hermione looked up at him and shook her head. "Nothing," she said hoarsely.

"If nothing's wrong," he snapped, "stop crying!"

She looked at him in disbelief as tears continued to pour. Hermione than stood up abruptly and started walking away.

Again, Draco had no idea what to do.

But he listened to his instincts and stood to follow her.

"Stop!" he yelled, grabbing her wrist and turning her around to face him.

Hermione winced as she looked down at his hand.

"You're hurting me," she said quietly.

"Don't go," Draco requested softly, releasing her wrist.

"I really have no idea what you are doing," said Hermione truthfully, tears still coming from her eyes, "and that scares me."

"Is that really what scares you," he asked, "or is it me?"

Hermione took a slow step backwards. "Do you really want to truth?" she asked.

He nodded.

"Yes," she answered timidly, "you scare me."

They were then interrupted by a call of "Hermione!" from behind Draco. They both turned to see Potter walking briskly down the hall.

"Malfoy," Potter acknowledged. "Hermione, is he bothering you?"

"Just because I happen to be talking to your girlfriend, Potter," Draco said snidely, "Does not mean I'm bothering her."

"I doubt that."

"N-no, Harry," Hermione spoke up, "D-Draco wasn't bothering me at all."

"Then why are you crying?" Potter asked gently.

Hermione looked at Draco than back at Potter and shook her head. "No reason," she answered.

"Come on then," Potter beckoned, "Ron's waiting for us in the common room."

She looked at Draco briefly, before brushing by him.

As the other two walked down the hall, Draco said quietly to himself, "Happy Christmas to you too, Hermione."