"Oh my god. Oh... MY... God. I just, I can't. Oh my god. OH MY GOD!" This was all Ginny could say since they found out who Head Boy is. They were sitting in the Great Hall. Luna was sitting at the Gryffindor table instead of with the other Ravenclaws.

"Ginny! That's enough! Calm down!" Hermione said.

"But.. Malfoy.. Head Boy.."

"Ginny, maybe we should change the subject for a while. Your head is full of Wrackspurts. You just need to clear your mind."

Ginny looked at Luna. "But, Malfoy's Head Boy!"

"Ginny, we get it. Can you please calm down, now?" Hermione asked seriously, although she was secretly enjoying this.

Hermione looked over at Draco. He was sitting with the only other Slytherin that returned to finish his seventh year; Blaise Zabini. They weren't talking. Draco was sitting with his head propped up on his arm, twirling a fork in midair with his wand.

"He seems different though. Like, he just seems bored with everything," said Hermione. It was true that in the Head's compartment on the train, he didn't talk as much as he would normally have. He just sat there and let Hermione give out all the instructions. He didn't even terrorize the first years on the train.

"Maybe the war got to him. I don't think he wanted to fight. It just looked like he wanted to leave, and get out of it all," said Neville.

"So, what? You guys think he's changed? Ha, no way. He's still the same Draco-Bloody-Malfoy as he was for the last seven years. Nothing has changed!" said Ginny.

"I don't think they're saying he's changed, Ginny," said Luna, "I just think they're saying he's going to be more on his guard."

"Well, whatever, I'm not going to be treating him any different," said Ginny, ripping a huge piece of chicken off the bone with her teeth.

The quartet ate in silence after that, although Hermione wasn't much for talking, anyways. She was lost in her own thoughts. Had Malfoy really changed? Or was Luna right? Was he just uping his defense?

At this point, the golden plates cleared of all food, and Professor McGonagall stood up.

"Now that we are all fed and watered, I would like to say a few words.

I'm glad you've all returned to Hogwarts in this time of healing. The war has taken many of our number. A very great loss to all of us. These very brave people have made a grave sacrifice, one that no one, especially their age, should have to make. Because of their selflessness, the world has been made a better, safer place. But we must not forget, many of us sitting here helped in the war. And it was a magnificent victory for all of us. Now, I do believe that it's time for bed. Prefects, please escort our first years to the dormitories, and good night to you all."

They all walked out into the entrance hall and up the marble staircase. When they got to the fourth floor, however, Hermione turned right into a narrow hallway and bade them good night,

"The password is 'tumbleweed,'" Hermione called after them.

Halfway down the corridor, there was a single door that was the Head Boy and Girl living quarters. A picture of a warm, motherly-looking witch with bright green eyes and brown curls pulled into a loose bun looked down at her.

"Head Girl, dear?" she asked as Hermione flashed her Head Girl badge at the witch. "Congratulations." Hermione heard a lock click and the door was unlocked. She opened the door and walked in and immediately was reminded of the Gryffindor common room.

There were two couches sitting across from each other, both three cushions long and made of black leather. To the right side of each couch was a small coffee table. To the left sat black, squashy armchairs made of the same leather, and they were both in front of a fire, crackling merrily in the grate.

Next to the mantle of the fire were two doors. To the left said 'Head Girl" and 'Head Boy' was to the right. She walked into to the one on the left and saw that her trunk was laying at the end of her bed. She changed into pajama pants and shirt and walked into common room with a book.

The door opened and Draco Malfoy walked in. He started walking toward the dormitories, rubbing his eyes as he walked. He was three feet away from where she was standing in front of the couch before he realized she was there. They stood awkwardly looking at each other before anyone spoke. Finally, Hermione said:

"Good evening."

Draco looked at her wearily.

"Evening, Granger."

He sat down on the leather couch closest to Hermione's dormitory. Hermione decided she would rather have some peace and quiet and walked toward her room.

"Granger, wait."

Hermione froze. What would Malfoy want that wouldn't cause her misery?

She turned around to face him, ready for his usual verbal-abuse, but instead, she saw a tired, frail looking boy staring up at her. This threw her off her guard.

"Yes, Draco?" If the use of his first name was strange to him, he didn't show it.

"I think we should talk."

"About what?"

"Don't play stupid, you know as well as I do what to expect, sharing living quarters, given our past."

"And you wanted to, what, tell me in detail your plans for making my life hell?" she said a little defensively.

"Granger, you misunderstand me," said Draco, with a small smile. "I just feel like I should explain some things."

Hermione was taken aback. "You don't have to explain anything to me."

"I know I don't have to. I want to."

"Okay." She sat down on the couch across from him and crossed her arms and legs. "I'm listening."

"First, I'm not who you think I am."

She waited for him to continue talking. When he did not, she said, "What do you mean by that? You're not Draco Malfoy?"

"Of course I'm Draco Malfoy," he said patiently. "What I mean is that I'm not who I've been pretending to be for seven years. I've been putting on a charade. I've been acting to be who I've been expected to be. I'm a pureblood, and a Malfoy. You know who my family is; Bellatrix, my father... and they were right in Voldemort's good books. Or, they tried to be. So I've had to pretend to be some stuck-up, snobby rich kid who thinks he's better than everyone else just because of his blood status."

"So, how everyone knows you-"

"Isn't the real me," he finished the sentence for her. "I'm not going to say that I don't hate Potter and the Weasel, but I do, and not because of blood statuses. And I didn't start off hating them. As you may recall, I even tried to befriend Potter. As for you, you've always been the more mature one. You haven't reallly given me real reason to hate you, except for that time in our third year when you decked me in the nose."

Hermione smiled at that. "Yeah, sorry about that. But you were being awful about Hagrid and Buckbeak."

Draco ignored that. "So, now that this stupid war is over and I can finally be my own person, I'm ready to live the life I want to live. And the first step for that is to clear my name so that I don't have to have any confrontation in my future."

"So, you were just pretending to hate Harry and Ron and I, and muggleborns and everything all this time."

"Don't get me wrong, Granger, I really don't like Potter and Weasley. But as for everyone else, that's mostly true."

Hermione uncrossed her legs and stared at her feet. 'Is this really true?' she thought. It seemed bizarre, and yet, it seemed as if it was obviously what was happening all these years.

Malfoy was watching her closely. She was quiet for so long that he said, "You don't believe me?"

Hermione looked up, startled to see Malfoy sitting across from her. She had been so deep in her own thoughts that she had completely forgot he was there. "Actually, the crazy thing is that I do believe you."

He smiled. "Well, I'm glad to hear it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to bed. Got to have my energy to bully the first years, tomorrow," he said with a wink.

He got up and walked to his room to the right of the fireplace. Hermione said, "Good night," and he hesitated for a fraction of a second, then disappeared into his room and didn't come back out until morning.