Word had made it's way to the Slytherin Common Room. Another muggle born had been petrified. Draco sat in the corner by the fire with his nose turned up in a book, paying no mind to the gossip. A twinge of guilt seeped through his soul; he did feel sorry for those boys…even Mrs. Norris. Only he knew that this was not going to be the end, far from it. His father had yet to trust him with full Death Eater information, only fragments of rumor and orders. Still, Draco knew there was a connection between the Chamber and the Dark Lord. He also knew his family played an integral role in these attacks.

Flipping the page, he heard a girl giggling.

"Malfoy, did you hear?" she called to him, obviously desperate to share her glee.

He refused to verbally acknowledge her and only lift his eyes above the top of the hardbound cover. She took his gaze as interest and continued.

"Granger is in the hospital wing. Can you believe Potter actually went after that mudblood and they're supposed to be chums?" She scoffed, "I might actually be growing to admire that boy."

Once again she waited for a reaction from Draco. She wouldn't get it. At least not externally. On the surface he remained cold as stone, the way Lucius had conditioned him to be. On the inside, his nerves were shaking. Not Granger.

The Common Room calmed as each patron slipped off to bed. Draco remained in his chair, frozen in thought, as though he were the one petrified. Finally he was alone. Without any hesitation he pushed himself from the chair and into the empty corridors. It had to be nearly midnight and wandering the halls this late was against school rules. He didn't care. Stomping silently towards the hospital his fists and jaw were clenched with anxiety.

Entering the room full of beds an eerie feeling swept over him. The bodies lied a few apart from each other. Their eyes were open wide in horror. Draco knew they couldn't actually see him but it felt as though they were watching his every move. It wasn't until he reached her bed he realized he'd been holding his breath. Itching the back of his neck nervously, Draco attempted to brush down the fine blond hairs that were standing on end. She was as solid as a rock, her mouth gaping open and her eyes of pain. Her cheeks still held their rosy color, though, which brought some warmth to his fingertips.

He wouldn't dare step any closer but whispered to her, "I'm sorry."

The words sounded foreign; Draco couldn't remember the last time he'd uttered an apology and actually meant it.

"I didn't want it to be you," he sucked in a breath. This was much harder than he'd anticipated.

"I understand I said I did but Granger -" he paused. She couldn't hear him but all the less, she deserved more than that. "Hermione."

It was also the first time he'd ever actually spoken her name. It felt sweet on his lips.

Taking just a few steps he stood over her body. Her stiff hand was up towards the sky; he had the urge to touch her. So he did. Cautiously, Draco wrapped his shaking hand in hers. Electricity.

"You shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be here, but, I had to see for myself."

Draco half expected her to give him some tort response. She was so good at those. Hermione Granger was one of the only people who was never afraid to put him in his place. The way she spoke to him…the way he spoke to her. He looked down, ashamed, thinking back to the day Weasley had attempted his curse. The memory of the wanker pale and puking should have brought the spark in his eye. All Draco was focused on was her. How he'd disrespected her. The hurt on her face haunted him, though he was forbidden to act on it.

"I'm sorry for everything and I'm sorry I could never say it when you could hear."

Draco instinctively gave her hand a small squeeze. Deep down he wished it would be enough to wake her up. Chuckling to himself as his thumb rubbed gently over top her hand, he couldn't help but wonder what his father would say in this moment. Not only was he holding the hand of a muggle born but he was apologizing for being a complete arse. He was admitting he was wrong…he was admitting his feelings for her. "I admire you, Hermione. I would never say it aloud but you're much more clever than I am. I suppose I am saying it aloud but it's not as if you can hear me. Hold it against me or anything."

Sighing, he laced his fingers through hers.

"I was so hoping you could solve this mystery, but I suppose you'll have to leave that up to Potter and Weasley." He chuckled again. The chuckleheads.

Releasing her hand, the cold returned to his body. Numb once more. Aching for one last bit of her, he leaned down to her ear, inhaling the smell of her curls. "Goodnight, Hermione." Glancing at her cheek as he pulled away, Draco lipped his lips. His instincts said to kiss her cherry skin but he backed away, clearing his throat, choosing to be a gentleman instead. Turning sharply on his heel, he raced from the hospital wing never slowing until reaching his bed.

He couldn't sleep; He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep until she was awake.