Don't hate me! You guys have to understand that between two jobs, school, and my personal life, it's kind of hard to find time to update. Anywho, hope you enjoy!

Listen to: An Honest Mistake - The Bravery

Chapter 2
Draco's Prologue


"Purebloods never make mistakes," my father once told me while in a row about him wrongfully accusing me of raiding his liquor cabinet. It was, in fact, my mother who had done it.

"Purebloods never make mistakes, and even if they do, they never admit them." A lesson well learned when although my father realized that it wasn't I who drank all his firewhiskey, I still didn't receive so mush as an apology. Just another scolding where he was now angry that I had not been there to intervene.

But I am a big enough person to realize that I made a mistake. Many, actually. And all having to do with one person…a person who wasn't myself. One of my mistakes being taking a Polyjuice to look like Weasley when I came to see her. How was I to know that he had already "bit the dust," as Muggles say? For five years, I had done exactly as the Golden Trio had done…dropped out of Hogwarts and ran.

Here's another thing I'm admitting to: I'm a bloody coward. I didn't have the courage to kill Dumbledore and I sure as hell didn't have the courage to face the Dark Lord…my "master." So I did the only think I could think of. As soon as my feet touched ground after Disapparating from the chaos of sixth year, I ran. For years, I ran. The first place I went was back to Malfoy Manor where I had been raised. But it was only to find that it had been burned to the ground. Word travels fast within the Dark Wizarding community.

Knowing that other Death Eaters could appear anytime to get me, I quickly located the secret family vault under the rubble, taking as many valuables and money as I could. Then I ran again.

I ran for five years and ran straight into the biggest mistake of my life…

Hermione Granger.

Ron watched as Granger fainted, almost not understanding why. Then it hit him. He knelt down next to Hermione, waved his wand over her, muttering, "Ennervate." She blinked a couple of times, sat up and started at him in shock and wonder. She reached up to touch his cheek, but before flesh could meet flesh, he stopped her.

"Wait," he said. She frowned.

"Ron, what –"

"I'm not Ron." She shook her head.

"Yes, you are. You're right here! I thought you were dead! I saw you fall after Bellatrix hit you with the Killing Curse. But you're here! Why –" Ron silenced her with a simple "Silencio." Hermione's mouth open and closed a couple of times before she realized what had happened, a perplexed look on her face. Probably due to his strange behavior, Ron supposed.

"I said, 'wait'." After a few moments, "Ron" felt his features changing. His hair was getting longer and lighter. His nose, shorter. His features became more angular. Finally, the transformation was finished and instead of Ron, Draco Malfoy sat in his place. He glanced up at Granger and noticed that her face had gone white, tears formed in her eyes.

"I told you…" he said quietly, almost feeling sorry for having shown up as her dead boyfriend. He knew he should have read the papers more.

"Oh…" She stared down at her hands as a single tear escaped, despite the fact that she was obviously trying so hard not to cry. Draco began to feel uncomfortable and stood, massaging his muscles. Weasley had been a lot taller than Draco and he felt as if he had been stretched out for the past hour.

"What do you want?" Hermione asked as she stood as well. The mournful expression that had been on her face only seconds before was now gone in exchange for the hatred which he knew so well from her. He then remembered why he was here and fidgeted nervously, raking a hand through his platinum blond hair.

"Granger, I need your help." It had been almost painful to say it, but he had nowhere else to turn.

"My help? Why ever would you need help from me…a mere Mudblood?" Draco flinched.

"I deserved that. But I'll take it because you're my last hope."

"How do I know that this isn't a trick? How do I know that you're not just luring me into a trap so that you can take revenge for the defeat of your Master?" Even as she said the words, she gripped her wand tightly and glanced at Draco's own wand. Quite often. Draco sighed and dropped his wand at Granger's feet.

"There, see? I'm unarmed and completely vulnerable. You can even put me under the Body-Bind again." Draco thought he saw her mouth twitch at his last comment.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" she asked again, but with less harshness than before.

"I just need a place to stay while look for my own," he finally stated.

"Here?"

"Yes. You see, you're the only one I can turn to. All my old – um – friends either died or were locked in Azkaban. And as it is, they wouldn't help me anyway. Lucius is still incarcerated, my mother perished when they destroyed by house. The only reason I stayed out of Azkaban myself was by admitting what a coward I was, running away like that. I only just barely got the Ministry to allow me access to the Malfoy account. And even with all that money, I can't bring myself to rebuild Malfoy Manor. I have no home, no job, no friends, but worst of all, no food." He gave a weak smile at that last attempt of humor in a humorless situation.

"But, Malfoy," Granger began, obviously thinking that it wasn't very funny after all. "Don't you have some other family? Aren't you related to Nymph –"

"Nymphadora Tonks?" he finished. She nodded enthusiastically, hoping he would try her, no doubt. He gave her a sad smile.

"I already asked." Granger's eyes went wide and, maybe, a bit sad, too.

"And she said no?" Actually, what Cousin Nymphadora had said that she wanted a bit of alone time with her new husband, the werewolf who taught Defense Against the Dark Arts in third year.

"But," she had added. "If you really can't find anywhere else, I'm sure we can let you stay here." But Draco would not let Granger know that. There was no way in hell he was going to stay with the newlyweds.

"Yes, Granger, she turned away her own blood," he answered. He watched as the conflict fluttered across her face. She had a nice face, to be truthful. He shook that though away when she spoke again.

"Fine. You may stay." Draco exhaled a breath of relief. "But under some conditions." Of course. Hermione Granger, as he remembered, was a stickler for rules. Of course, in order to be a stickler for them, there'd have to be some, and therefore, she'd have to make some up.

"Of course. And what would those conditions be?" He was just trying to be cute. He knew it wouldn't work, but it was worth a try, right? She crossed her arms over her chest…a cough rather nice one, he added to himself…and scowled at him. 'Well, I guess that answers that question,' he thought. 'One cannot be cute with Hermione Granger.'

"One, no magic in the house," she said with a smirk, obviously thinking that that particular condition would scare him off. But he merely shrugged.

"Sounds fair." After all, when on is on the run, one cannot always rely on magic to help. Magic always left traces and he couldn't always afford to leave them. Hermione's smirk fell and she began to pace.

"Two, no funny business. No groping, touching, ogling…" Ah. So she had seen him checking out her chest. "And no…no…just don't try to embarrass me in any way relative to the above." Draco smiled, amused at her behavior. She was most adorable when flustered.

'Did I just think…'

'Ah, just go with it!'

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but would you mid too much if I sat down? I have had quite an exhausting journey, as you can imagine."

"Oh! Right. Go on ahead." Draco took a seat on the sofa and, again, watched as Granger paced back and forth.

"Three. We're at three, yes?"

"Correct."

"Three, no bringing home girls." Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Why? You'd get jealous?" Granger rolled her eyes.

"Oh, please, Malfoy. Don't flatter yourself."

"I was only joking, Granger. Jeez. Besides, I respect the fact that this is your house and I have you to consider. I wouldn't subject your virgin eyes and ears to such lewdness." Granger scowled.

"How sweet of you," she said sarcastically.

"Why, thank you." He grinned, causing her mouth to twitch again, but she held any other hints of a reciprocating smile back and continued on.

"Lastly, you can't lie to me, Malfoy. If I ask you something, you have to give me a straight answer."

"Why?" he exclaimed, a bit shocked to hear that last condition.

"Malfoy, I'm letting you share my home with me. I've trusted you enough for that. In return, all I ask is that you keep that trust and let me have yours as well. And that means no secrets."

"But what if there are some thinks I'd rather not talk about?"

"I'm sure there are, Malfoy. There are many things I'm not sure I want to share with you, either. Tell you what…I'll make a deal with you. If either of us confide in the other one of those big secrets, the other would owe one in return. Sound fair?" Draco pondered this for a moment. Draco had only ever confided his innermost feeling to one person: Moaning Myrtle…and she was a ghost.

"Anything I tell you, you would keep to yourself?" he asked, still skeptical.

"You have my word. And if I did, you could just as easily tell someone about what I tell you, so I wouldn't risk it." Draco chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"Fine. I accept all conditions especially enforcing number four." Granger smiled and Draco was awestruck for a moment. She had never smiled at him before.

"Of course," she continued, shaking out of his daze. "So, I guess all there is to say to make yourself at home."

Home.

When she had said that one word, I started. I had not had a home in so long, I almost forgot they existed. I saw houses, yes, and even stayed in some old or abandoned ones. But an actual home in which I belonged? A home I could return to every night? I hadn't realized how much I missed it until I felt my eyes beginning to sting, threatening to fill with tears.

"Granger, may I use your bathroom?" Draco asked to her retreating back.

"Of course. Down the hall, first door to the left. By the way, your room is the door to the right."

"Thank you." Draco hurried down the hall, to the bathroom, turning the taps so cold water rushed out of the faucet. He let it run for a while, regaining his composure before cleaning himself up. He used his wand to shave the stubble off his face, clean his teeth and fix his hair so it didn't look so wind swept. He took a deep breath before exiting again and headed towards the kitchen.

Granger sat at the kitchen table clutching a picture of Ron Weasley in her hands. Tears fell silently down her face and onto the glass frame, the photo-Weasley smiling and waving, oblivious to Granger's sorrow.

"I love you," she whispered. Draco backed out of the room before she noticed him, a bit embarrassed of having intruded upon such a private moment.

Love.

It was a work he rarely used and almost never heard. His mother, who had not been big on words and instead adopted the theory that 'actions speak louder than words', surely loved him. He loved her, too, of course. He supposed he loved his father as well. But as for the kind of love he had just witnessed, where one person believes another to be part of their destiny, soul mates and all that, two souls coming together to bond as one…

That love, he knew nothing of.

Granger cam out of the kitchen, wiping at her cheeks. Draco acted as if he hadn't seen what happened in the kitchen.

"Granger –"

"Hermione."

"What?" Granger sat down in the easy chair, curling her feet under herself.

"Hermione…that's my name. Call me 'Hermione'."

"Right. Gra – er – Hermione. Do you think it would be much trouble for you to accompany me to the nearest shop so I could find some clothes? All I have with me are the ones I'm wearing now." She smiled. Yes, she did have a very nice smile, but it never quite reached her eyes. There was a great sadness in those big, brown eyes.

"Of course. We could go now. Just let me get my coat."

To say that it was awkward is an understatement. Hermione Granger was an annoying know-it-all and Harry Potter's best friend to boot. Hermione Granger was now my only life line. She had become the key person in my survival with a few simple words. But underneath that awkwardness, there was an undercurrent of something else. It was that undercurrent that kept us from killing each other. I'm still not sure what it is and perhaps I'll never know.

What I do know, now, anyway, is that it was a mistake to have ever gone to Hermione's in the first place. I don't regret the great time we shared, and yes, there were fights, which sometimes even ended in us having drawn our wands pointing them at each other's throats. But those memories only make the pain greater now.

I lived with Hermione for six months. It is amazing what can happen in six months. After a while, that awkwardness started to dissipate and all that was left was that undercurrent. And trust. There was a lot of trust. I learned to trust Hermione and we were able to talk about everything freely. We had that understanding and I knew she would have never laughed at me. By the end of the third month, we had shared everything. I was happier and it seemed that she was too. She trusted me as much as I trusted her, had poured out her soul, her emotions, her thoughts. She quickly became my best friend. But although she trusted me implicitly, there was still a part of me that I couldn't trust her with. A part that fought against her more and more with each passing day, week, month…

My heart.