Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Author's Note: Warning: mentions of suicide are in this chapter, and it may contain triggers.

Chapter Two: Confessions at Midnight

October 6th, 1996

Hermione sat at her usual table in the Hogwarts library, absolutely exhausted. She had been studying for the past four hours and she even needed to admit that she needed a break. It was getting late and she knew that the library was going to be closing any minute now.

Harry and Ron had left only moments ago, and it was just now that she decided to let her exhaustion show. She rested her head upon the cool surface of the wooden table and closed her eyes.

"Tired, Granger?" she heard a familiar, cruel voice calling.

She sat up, her eyes snapping open. Her gaze fell upon the source, Draco Malfoy, who was standing a mere few feet away from her table, books in hand.

"As a matter of fact, yes Malfoy. Yes I am." she admitted, starting to gather up her large stack of work.

"Me too." he muttered, barely loud enough for her to hear.

Hermione looked up at Draco, taking him in. He walked to a shelf in front of her table and started searching. She thought of Harry's ridiculous accusations that he'd become a Death Eater.

He was standing here, basically alone in a library with a Muggleborn he hated, and he wasn't attacking. Of course it was plausible that he was, because of who his parents were, but...

He couldn't be one. Could he?

"Granger, I know I'm good looking, but must you stare?" he smirked.

Hermione shook her head and looked down at the table. She quickly shoved everything into her bag and walked by Draco without another word. As soon as she left the library, it occurred that she had left her favourite quill on the table.

Hermione groaned and turned back, retracing her steps. As she approached her table, she heard a soft whimpering. She slowed down, bracing herself for what she might see. She rounded the corner and came upon Draco Malfoy.

He was standing with his back to her, facing the opposite bookshelf. The sound she was hearing from him was the unmistakable sobs of someone in a great amount of pain.

She was torn. Should she grab her quill and slowly creep away? Or should she see if he was okay? She knew that he hadn't heard her yet, so she could easily make a run for it.

But she couldn't do that.

In the months since school had started, she had noticed that Draco Malfoy had changed from the boy he had once been. He didn't rip on Harry, Ron and Hermione every chance he got. He sometimes let them pass without a single word. She'd seen him in the Great Hall, not talking to anyone.

He seemed different this year.

"Malfoy? Are you alright?" she asked softly, stepping to him and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He automatically flinched and turned to face her, shrugging off her hand. His eyes were red and his face was even more pale than usual. Hermione couldn't believe how quickly he had fallen apart. She had only been away for a few moments.

"Leave me alone, Granger." he grumbled, turning away from her.

"Malfoy, please. Are you okay?" she asked again, still soft.

"Do I look fucking okay?" he yelled, causing her to jump. "I'm fine, Granger. Just... leave me alone."

Hermione picked up her quill and shoved it into her bag while nodding at him.

"Okay. But... uh... you can talk to me if you want." she offered.

Draco eyed her curiously, for which she didn't blame him. He had made her absolutely miserable for the last five years; why should she ever be kind to him?

"Why should I talk to you?" he spat, a snarl appearing on his face.

Hermione shrugged. "Because I'll listen."

He was quiet, turning away from her. She slowly started walking away from him, trying to make sense of what could possibly be making Draco Malfoy cry.

"Granger?" he called out.

She stopped, turning to face him.

"Not a word of this to anyone."

. . .

The next morning and Draco still couldn't believe that he had fallen apart like that, in the fucking library of all places. In the company of Hermione Granger of all people.

He made his way to the Great Hall alone, still reeling at himself for losing it. The pressure had just gotten to him. It was all too much. He couldn't handle this.

He needed to act soon, unless he wanted the Dark Lord to kill him.

He came close to the door, when he spotted the Golden Trio a few feet in front of him.

Stupid Potter. Stupid Weasley. Stupid Granger.

Well, Hermione Granger was far from stupid.

But damn her for seeing him fall apart.

"Honestly Hermione, I don't know why you stay up so late. The books will be the same in the morning." Weasley grumbled.

"Ron, I'm not in the mood."

"Yeah, because you read all night and now you're in a God awful mood."

"Ronald -"

"Shut it, both of you!" Harry interjected suddenly.

Draco hated the bunch of them. Except for Hermione Granger. As much as he wanted to hate her, he couldn't. He was raised to hate her, for she was a Muggleborn. But he couldn't hate her.

He did dislike her, that was true. But he certainly didn't hate her.

She'd sounded genuinely concerned for him last night, something he had never heard from anyone besides his Mother. And even then it was different.

As he took his seat in the Great Hall, he made eye contact with Severus Snape. Immediately, Draco looked away. Snape had been keeping an extra close eye on him this year, especially since if he failed his task, Snape would have to do it for him.

Draco rested his chin in his hands and sighed, staring down at the table.

. . .

Before Hermione could stop herself, she turned to look at the Slytherin table. Draco was staring absently into space.

What was up with him?

Why had he been crying last night?

He had completely lost it. Hermione couldn't stop thinking about him now. She was desperate to find out just what was wrong with him. She hadn't said anything to anyone, not even Harry or Ron.

"Hermione?"

She turned back to face Ron and Harry, hoping that she wasn't blushing from being caught looking at the Slytherin table.

"What are you looking at?" Harry asked.

"Oh, nothing. Nothing." she lied.

She turned and started buttering a piece of toast, trying to make Draco Malfoy leave her mind. She thought of all the studying she had accomplished last night and felt momentarily proud.

Until she thought of Draco's sobs that came afterwards.

Ugh, she thought.

. . .

Later that night, Hermione sat at the top of the Astronomy Tower, with her notes spread out in front of her. It was a little known secret that she loved it up here. It was a quiet place. A place that she loved even more than the library. Especially at night.

It was quiet, and peaceful and gave her a beautiful view of the stars. She knew she had missed curfew now, but she didn't care. She had done this enough times to get back without being caught.

Suddenly, she heard a noise behind her and feared that it was Filch, or a teacher. She held her breath as she turned around, expecting the worst.

"Goddamn it." mumbled Draco Malfoy.

Hermione couldn't decide if this was worse than a teacher or not.

What was he doing here?

"Malfoy." she said, turning away from him.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm studying. What does it look like?"

She watched as he came and sat a few feet away from her, something she did not expect.

"Why here?"

"It's peaceful up here."

They were both quiet, Hermione continuing to read over her Potions essay for Professor Slughorn.

"Granger... you didn't tell anyone about... about yesterday, did you?" he asked.

Hermione heard something in his voice. She heard something different, something she'd never heard before in him. He sounded frightened.

"No, no. I didn't." she promised, pushing her essay aside and turning to face him.

He was looking out at the sky, a faraway expression planted on his face.

"Why didn't you?"

"I don't know. Because you asked me not to."

They were quiet. Hermione took a sideways glance at Draco and saw an unmistakable expression of pain on his face.

"Malfoy, I'm going to ask you again. Are you alright?" she said calmly, trying not to push him.

She couldn't explain why she felt so concerned for him. It was almost as if all her resentment towards him had melted away when she had seen him crying.

"Granger, I'm fine. I'm not crying. I'm sitting here." he scoffed.

"Yes, but whatever's bugging you is written all over your face. And, since when do you ever ever sit with me? You're different this year. You're different." Hermione explained softly.

Draco was quiet and Hermione just stared at him.

"So what if I am?" he mumbled, quietly.

"I'm not saying it's a bad thing, Malfoy. I'm just saying that it's different. It's like you've changed."

"Yeah well, some people have to change, Granger. Sometimes people don't have a choice."

Hermione realized that this was the most civilized conversation that they'd ever had. It seemed as though he was on the verge of opening up to her majorly. It was strange.

. . .

Draco couldn't believe he was having an actual conversation with Hermione Granger of all people. For reasons he couldn't explain, he wanted to open up to her. He wanted to trust her.

He had no one. No one to trust.

He hated his life.

He hated himself.

He didn't want to be a Death Eater. He wanted to be rid of the Dark Mark that was on his arm. He didn't want to do his task. He wanted to live a normal life.

He looked at Hermione. The moonlight was reflecting off of her pale face, giving her a strange, yet enticing glow. He found himself thinking that she was much prettier than he'd ever realized.

Did I just think of Hermione Granger as pretty? She's a Mudblood!

But Draco knew that he didn't like the word Mudblood anymore. Not at all.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked.

"Why not."

"Do you promise not to be offended?"

"Sure."

"Do you promise to be honest?"

Draco was slowly becoming annoyed and just wanted her to get around to it.

"Granger, just get on with it please."

He watched as Hermione bit her lip. She seemed to be in an inner battle with herself. He was even more intrigued now.

"Okay... Malfoy..." she started slowly.

She turned to him and and bit her lip. Draco raised his eyebrows at her and scooted closer, trying to make her feel more at ease.

"Are you a Death Eater?" she asked quickly.

Draco tried to keep his face calm and straight. He could easily, easily lie to her right now. She was just annoying, know-it-all Hermione Granger.

Or he could come clean. Just the way her voice had been when she was talking to him. Just the way she looked right now in the moonlight. Just the way she was. He could be honest with her.

"Yes." he said without thinking it through.

He froze, watching her reaction. He expected her to get up, to run, to tell someone and yell. She was alone at the top of the Astronomy Tower with a self-confessed Death Eater.

. . .

Hermione knew that she should run. Draco had just confessed that he was a Death Eater. Harry had been right. He had been completely right.

She looked at Draco, staring into his grey eyes. He looked scared, beyond scared. And for that reason, Hermione couldn't run. She knew that Draco could easily hurt her, kill her even. But she knew that he wouldn't.

"Can I see it?" she decided to ask, her voice coming out strangely.

She was glad that he knew exactly what she meant already. He rolled up his left sleeve and showed her his mark. She let out a gasp and turned away.

She was sitting alone in the dark with a Death Eater.

Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater.

He was working for Voldemort.

"Why are you still sitting here?" he asked quietly.

She looked back at him and saw the sadness in his eyes. He was just a scared kid, not unlike herself.

"You don't want to be a Death Eater." she said softly.

He shook his head instantly. "No. Not at all."

Hermione kept looking at him, urging him to continue.

. . .

Draco didn't know why, but he felt like opening up to Hermione Granger. He'd wanted to tell someone for so long about everything that he had hidden inside of him. He couldn't tell anyone. Not Crabbe, not Goyle, not Blaise, not his Mother, not anyone.

"I did want to be.. at first. But then, after the Dark Lord returned to power, I didn't want to be. My mother and father returned to his side, of course, and after the whole fiasco at the Ministry last year with Potter and my Father... I had no choice." he explained quietly.

"What do you mean you had no choice?"

"I had no choice. The Dark Lord... he chose me. There's something... something I have to do. Or else he'll kill me. He'll kill me and my mother, and..."

His voice broke and he felt the stupid tears coming again, just as they did everyday. He hated crying. It made him feel weak. Weak and vulnerable. He had never cried in front of anyone, but now he had cried in front of Hermione twice in the last two days.

He couldn't stop the tears anymore. Not now. Not ever.

. . .

Hermione couldn't believe it. He was just a kid, just a kid like herself. Like her, and Harry, and Ron and everyone else.

Draco Malfoy was sitting here, sobbing uncontrollably, next to her. And all she wanted to do was comfort him.

"Granger, I don't want to do this anymore." he sobbed.

Hermione moved closer to him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. He flinched at her touch, but then looked up at her, his eyes red with tears.

"What do you mean?" she asked softly.

"I can't do what the Dark Lord wants me to do. I just can't do it, Granger. He's... he's going to kill me. I want to just die. I want to die. I have to die before he gets the chance to do me in." he sobbed.

Hermione gasped. Draco was definitely suicidal. What if he had been coming up here to jump?

Hermione slowly wrapped an arm around his shoulder. He seemed desperate to move away from her, but she wouldn't let him.

"Don't fight me." she whispered.

He turned to her and cried, sobbing into her shoulder. She let him stay there for a long time until she was certain that it was past one in the morning. He had finally quieted down long ago, but remained in Hermione's embrace. Hermione didn't know what to say next. She was sure that he had never told anyone else this before. She must be the first, and she didn't know why.

"Can I ask you something else?" Hermione decided to ask quietly.

He pulled away from her, but she kept her arm slung gently around him. His eyes were rimmed with red, and his pale face streaked with what were obvious tear stains. He nodded at her and she bit her lip again.

"What have you been told to do?"

He shook his head quickly, quicker than Hermione expected. He stood up and started pacing around the tower nervously.

"I... I can't tell you, Granger. I can't! I've told you too much already. Nobody is supposed to know of the task unless the Dark Lord tells them himself." he whispered, his voice breaking.

Hermione hoisted herself up off the ground and walked to him.

"Draco." she said, bravely deciding to use his first name.

. . .

Something inside of Draco softened as he heard Hermione use his first name. Something about the way she said it. Something about how close she was standing to him. Something about the way she had held him close while he cried for hours. Something about the way she listened to him.

"Draco, you don't have to tell me now. But, if you'd ever like to... you can." she said softly.

He felt more tears leak down his cheeks, and he felt so foolish. He was still crying in front of Hermione Granger.

How pathetic had he become?

He had been nothing but honest with her tonight. He did want to die. He knew that he was going to die, so why postpone the inevitable? If he offed himself, it wouldn't be nearly as horrific as it would be when the Dark Lord killed him.

Draco had to kill Albus Dumbledore.

But he knew that he couldn't. He wouldn't. It was impossible.

Despite what Draco had been told, he knew that Dumbledore was an innocent man. He was a great man even; and for that reason, Draco could not kill him.

"I'm gonna die. I have to die. I need to die. I want to die." he mumbled, losing it once more.

Instantly, he felt Hermione arms around him. He held onto her tightly, as if clinging to her the way he was clinging on to life.

"Are you going to tell? Are you going to tell Potter and the Order?" he asked weakly, a few moments later.

. . .

Hermione knew she should. She knew that she should tell Harry and the Order and everyone.

But she couldn't.

The way Draco was opening up to her, the way he had confessed his suicidal feelings...

She couldn't betray that.

Something had shifted between them. Something big.

"No. No, I don't think I'm going to." she whispered.

He let go of her and took a few steps back. "Really?"

She nodded. "On one condition."

"What?"

"You don't kill yourself. If you feel the urge to do anything harmful to yourself, you come find me. I don't care what time of day it is. Day or night. On break or in lessons. Make up an excuse to get to me if you must. Just... just don't do it. Please." she ordered, her voice breaking.

"Why do you even care?" Draco asked.

"Because! We may have never been on the best of terms, but I still care if you live or die. I don't want you to die. Please."

Draco only nodded stiffly. "Okay."

"Swear it, Draco."

"I swear."

"Good."

They were quiet again, staring at one another. Hermione thought of all that had happened tonight. She had never seen someone so... so hurt.

"I think I should go to bed." Draco whispered.

Hermione just nodded, staring at him curiously. "Me too."

She waved her wand and sent her papers and books flying into her bag, which zoomed onto her shoulder. They walked in silence down the Astronomy Tower stairs, Hermione behind Draco. She didn't dare say anything else, as she didn't know what.

"Granger?" he whispered, pausing on the last step to turn to her.

She nodded, her eyes widening with curiosity as she paused on the step above him.

"Thank you."

Author's Note: thank you for the reviews on the first chapter! they were greatly appreciated! please keep reading and reviewing! they make my day and mean the world to me!