Chapter 2

Draco woke the next morning very early, he wanted to be able to take a shower and get out of the dormitory before that insufferable know-it-all woke up. He was not in the mood for the lecture that he was sure was coming. He knew that he had not performed his duties the day before but he just needed a little bit of time to himself to figure out what he was going to do the whole year. Draco had no idea how to go about coping with his parents deaths and was not looking forward to the questions from his peers or the inquisitive looks he knew he would be getting from the Head Girl. Despite what he knew everyone was thinking he had no idea what had happened to his parents. Even though he was suppose to be the cold hearted Slytherin prince who felt nothing the idea that he had no more information then anyone else was slowing eating away at him. He wanted desperately to know what had happened. Although it was set up to look as though they were killed by the Dark Lord it was not so. His parents were killed in their sleep, it was a merciful murder. Had the Dark Lord been the one to kill them there would not have been any mercy, he would have slowly tortured them to death, drawing it out as long as he could. Most did not know first hand of what happened to you if you were to double cross the Dark Lord, but Draco did. His father had made sure that he would understand from a young age.

His father. Draco shuddered at the thought of him. At the thought of the years of abuse at his hand. At everything he had witnessed his father do. He had been forced at a very young age to watch Voldemort and Lucius torture and kill all those who opposed them. His father had been sure to tell him that he was not safe from that fate, that he if he ever thought to go against him or his Lord that he would personally torture and kill him. Draco Malfoy had always been trained to a dark wizard, trained to hate, to kill. Little did his father know, his mother had been teaching him something completely different. She had been teaching him understanding and love. Had Lucius ever found out he surely would have killed them both, but his mother had always been careful in her lessons. Draco smiled to himself at the thought of his mother. She was a beautiful woman, and had always tried so desperately to counter act the teachings of his father. It was her love for Draco that had won out. Draco was not the evil dark wizard his father had trained him to be, but he was a great actor. He had always acted the way his father had expected him too, to save his own skin.

Draco, disgusted with himself for acting so foul for so long on his fathers orders, got out of bed and went to the shower. He wanted, more than anything, to be able to scrub away the years of mental and physical abuse on his part to others and his fathers to him. He stood in the shower letting the burning hot water course over his slim figure. He allowed the water to scald his flesh just so he could feel something other than emotional turmoil that seemed to haunt his every thought. Cold salty tears slid down his face, tears for his mother, the only person he ever loved and the only one who ever loved him. And tears of anger at his father, the despicable man who made his life a living hell. Draco felt his knees give out and he sat a broken and mangled shadow letting the now cold water run over him, washing away his cursed tears.

Hermione woke to the sound of the shower running, she got up and stretched her sore muscles. She looked out the window and noticed that it was still dark outside, startled she looked at her clock it read 4:45. What the bloody hell was Malfoy doing taking a shower in the middle of the night! Hermione asked herself. Frustrated and still tired she climbed back into bed, hopefully he would get out of there soon so she could get in a couple more hours of sleep before breakfast. Hermione laid back down and stared up at the red and gold ceiling above her large comfortable bed. After a long time Hermione looked back at the clock, it now read 5:15, and the shower still hadn't turned off. What is he doing in there? The water has got to be cold by now. Hermione began to feel a little worried that perhaps Draco had fallen or something and maybe he was hurt. Tip-toeing over to the bathroom door she put her ear against the wood and listened. She could barely make out someone sobbing through the noise of the rushing water. Hermione, becoming rather frieghtened started to pound on the door.

"Draco!!!! Are you okay?" Hermione screamed, she heard the water turn off and a scuffling noise coming from the bathroom. "Draco?"

"WHAT!"

"Uh...are you okay...?"

"I'm fine, just leave me alone!!" Draco screamed back at her.

Hermione slunk back to her bed and climbed in, she had no idea what that was suppose to mean. Was Draco really crying? She knew that he had lost his parents but she didn't really think that Draco was one to cry. She never really associated him with human emotions, he never seem to show anything but hatred, so why would he feel anything but hatred? Hermione suddenly felt very bad that she had assumed he wouldn't be hurt by his parents passing. If it had been her she would be beside herself with grief. Perhaps Harry had been right and Draco really did just need a friend. Hermione found herself shaken by the decision she seemed to be easily coming too, she would force Draco into a friendship, try to force him to open up to her. Shivering she pulled the blankets up around her neck and stared once more at the gold and red ceiling.