A/N: I would first of all like to apologise for my lack of updates. I am SO SO SO sorry however I went on a last minute holiday with no access to computers or the Internet –GASP- yes imagine the horror!

Also I would like to thank so much my reviewers: guilty until proven innocent, Encrypted Pseudonym, BoStOnChIcK, Jtfanaddict, hotaru420, xXWitchXx, omnipotent otaku and ebonyS2. Also many thanks to my great great beta reader who helps me with just about everything.

Hopefully I will be able to post the next chapter in one week time, however, because I will be working seven days a week for the next few weeks, finding time to post will be difficult, however I promise to try my best to find time.

Also, I would like to once again remind anyone who may be reading this, that most of this fic had been written before I began posting, and before the sixth Harry Potter book came out, and so any events which may have taken place in the book, will not be as so in this fic.

Please review and tell me what you all think!

Disclaimer: Not mine, bla bla…. Onwards…!

Panic. Sheer panic. Her breath hitched in her throat as she fought to control the hysterics that were threatening to overwhelm her. She stumbled into the entrance of the castle and struggled for a moment to close the heavy mahogany doors. Finally she collapsed against them, her heart fluttering erratically in her chest, twice its normal speed. Her mind was racing with thoughts… such horrible thoughts… what he could have done to her. She shivered and allowed herself to sink to the floor, having apparently lost the strength to stand.

She carefully lifted one of her pale hands up for inspection, only to find it quivering uncontrollably; the tears came shortly after that. Not tears of fear, not even tears of anger, but tears of relief. She buried her face into her robes, as though seeking comfort in the soft material, and allowed a few silent tears to stream down her face, and be soaked up by the black cotton.

It took a while for the immediate shock to wear away, however when it did, two new feelings resided in Hermione, fear and suspicion.

Fear that infact, the worst was still to come and that the encounter in the forest had been merely a game, a sick game, to both scare her and a let her know that this was merely the beginning.

And suspicion, the culprit, whoever he was, made his hate and disgust of the girl clear, and of course the part which confused her the most… he had access to the Griffindor chambers which would logically make him either a member of the Gryffindor house, or…

A tall figure stepped in front of her looking at her oddly through his large grey orbs, "Granger…?" he asked uncertainly. Recognising the voice immediately as that of the Slytherin Prince, the girl immediately recoiled moving as far away from him as possible.

"You're crying," he noted, in a voice, which lacked any kind of emotion.

Using all her energy, the girl picked herself up and stumbled in the opposite direction, however he was too fast for her, and in a second, was by her side once more, "Stay away from me!" she cried somewhat hysterically, and waved a piece of broken wand in the air. Draco raised an almost silver eyebrow, but said nothing.

It made perfect sense. He hated her; this was no great secret. He thought her unworthy of being a witch and took every chance to sneer at her muggle upbringing. Furthermore, he had access to the Gryffindor chambers. In Hermione's mind, all evidence pointed to Draco Malfoy, and she had no reason, no reason what so ever to believe otherwise.

Turning around, she walked away from him, and he considered letting her go, but there was something about the way she looked at him… a look of both fear and disgust… that made him want to find out what was wrong. When it came to Draco, the girl felt many things…and to be honest, most of them were bad, but never had she looked at him with fear, and it was this more than anything, which sparked his curiosity. At the last minute he caught the sleeve of her robes, and spun her round, looking down into her eyes, which had been slightly reddened from the crying.

"Get off me!" she growled, banging her fists against his chest.

For reasons unknown to him, Draco was torn. Torn between pushing her away and pulling her closer. In the end, he chose the former of the two. "Get yourself cleaned up Mudblood," he sneered, as was custom around the girl, "you look like shit, and we have detention in half an hour," and without a backwards glance strode to the staircase, and soon disappeared from sight.

Questions. Thousands of them, going through her mind, each as unanswerable as the last. Was it really Malfoy… and if it wasn't, then who else could hate her that much? She tried to think back, where had he come from as she sat huddled on the floor? Should she tell a teacher? But what evidence did she have? Did she really want to go down the meandering road of self-doubt?

And then silence.

She attempted to block out all thoughts from her mind and forced herself to place one foot in front of the other, and make her way to the Gryffindor chambers where she could collect herself before attending detention. By the time she reached the portrait of the 'fat lady' Hermione had decided to keep the incidents to herself, no one need know just yet. Firstly, evidence on either incident was minimal, and secondly, alerting teachers would be a sign of weakness, something the girl was not yet willing to give. However, there was another reason, one that perhaps even she was not quite ready to admit to herself, but it was a reason non-the-less, on a subconscious level… she was embarrassed. Embarrassed and ashamed of being herself. She had always been a proud girl, and seldom let others' hate penetrate her heart, however this time the words had stung, undeniably so, and a part of her wished, that she were not a muggle born.

Not a mudblood.

A half hour later, as she reluctantly entered McGonagall's office, the girl fought an internal battle, in an attempt of pushing any remaining uncertainties to the back of her mind. Merlin she tried. She could ponder on her worries later, she told herself fiercely, right now; she had a detention to serve. However, what she didn't count on, was how hard having to spend the time with the very boy she was desperately trying to avoid, could be. Every so often, her eyes would unwillingly wonder over to the blond boy standing next to her, and her body would give an involuntary shudder as her mind screamed: 'it was him… it has to be him!'

Her thoughts however were cut short, as McGonagall addressed them directly and immediately, "tonight you will be helping Mr Filch; he will set you jobs he sees fit," she paused, and then added as an afterthought, "I would like you to think carefully as to why you are both serving detention tonight, and perhaps in the future try to eradicate such behaviour, as I have previously mentioned, it is unacceptable for two such students as yourselves". And with this she dismissed them, merely giving them instructions to wait for the caretaker at the entrance hall.

And so they waited. Draco studied her in a mixture of fascination and disgust (she was after all a mudblood). He recalled the way she had looked at him a short half hour ago; her eyes were like the windows to her soul, but the emotions he saw in them were so complex, he could not begin to fathom what had happened to make her so distressed. However, there was one thing he was almost certain he had seen in those dark, haunted orbs of hers… fear. He recalled how such a short time ago, he had found her so distraught at this very same entrance. Hermione Granger, the one girl he was sure would not break so easily, had been in tears, and he wanted to know why. For curiosities sake of course. Malfoy's face twisted into a grimace. While it was refreshing to see anything other than hate displayed on Hermione's face when she saw him, he did not want her to fear him.

Filch, apparently not one to bother with formalities, marched up to the students and muttered "follow me," before turning to walk in the opposite direction; he didn't so much as turn to check they were following him. The caretaker held a lantern in one hand, and used the small light to lead the two students down a narrow, almost deserted corridor. Two red buckets filled with water were up against one of the walls, filch pointed to them somewhat delightedly. "Never had to give head boy and girl detention before," he said almost conversationally whilst shaking his head and not bothering to hide his glee. He walked them a little further down and stopped in front of two large doors. "Toilets are due for a clean," he smiled sadistically and pointed in the direction of the two buckets, "I want the floors and walls sparkling… no magic is to be used whatsoever… have fun," and with this, walked off, followed closely by his damned cat. Almost as an after thought, he added, "I'll be back in two hours to inspect," and with this, turned once more, and left.

Draco looked around wildly in a mixture of disgust and disbelief, "he was being serious? That bastard… that absolute fucking bastard!" he seethed.

"Malfoy, this is detention," the head girl growled, "you're not meant to enjoy it," And with this, grabbed one of the red buckets, and entered the girls' toilets.

After a minute or so, the door swung open once more, and Hermione had never before thought it possible to make a dramatic entrance whilst lugging a bucket of soapy water. The blond boy practically snarled, and sponge in one hand, bucket in other he began to clean in turn each of the sinks, in a sort of resigned silence. Hermione looked up at him for a moment, unsure of what to make of this… after all, it's not everyday you get to see a Malfoy doing such tasks as washing the toilets.

Time passed slowly, minutes seemed to take forever to pass and soon, the silence, which had been cast over them, was broken.

Hermione, had finally become frustrated with the frizzy wisps of hair, which had stubbornly escaped from the bun she had haphazardly tied the curly locks into. She sighed exasperatedly and retrieved a clip from the depth of her pocket, before sweeping the unruly strands from across her forehead and securing them in place.

"Shit Granger," the boy muttered, and his voice, which over the years had been honed to perfection to never give away the emotional state of the blond boy, shook ever so slightly. She looked up, unsure of his decision to break the previous mutual, yet unspoken agreement on silence. "What happened to you face?"

She growled, and threw her sponge into the soapy bucket of water causing a slight splash; she sick and tired of his cheap jabs at her, "what is your problem Malfoy? Don't you have anything better to do than insult me? Are you that much of a bastard that you would rather-"

"No, Granger, seriously, look in the mirror," he smirked, apparently amused by her reaction.

She walked almost reluctantly to one of the large mirrors; it took only a few seconds of inspecting her face to notice the large gash above her left eye… no doubt an injury she had received during the attack. She shivered, the dark masked figure coming back to mind. The girl traced the cut with one of her fingers; dried blood had crusted around it, forming a scab and, winced slightly at the contact.

"How did it happen?" he asked, dropping his sponge, the work at the sink momentarily forgotten.

She didn't reply immediately, instead her inner voice screamed at her 'he knows… he's just playing you… he has to know!' She said none of this aloud however, instead, she gave a shrug and muttered as nonchalantly as she could manage, "don't know, I must have scratched myself".

He quirked a brow, "you scratched yourself? What and didn't realise you tore out a great lump of your own skin?" his voice ridiculed her, while his eyes studies her with intense curiosity.

"Why the fuck do you care Malfoy? It's got nothing to do with you," she muttered, avoiding any eye contact and once more dipping her sponge into the bucket.

"As head boy..."

"Not that shit again," she cut in, the blond boy opened his mouth to continue but Hermione interrupted him once more, "no wait, let me guess, as head boy, you have taken it upon yourself to avoid responsibility and in the process exploit your privileges whenever it suits you. Having the status of 'head boy' does not give you the right to interfere in other people's lives." Draco could tell by the way her voice trembled ever so slightly as she spoke, that the girl was growing increasingly irate with his interfering; and yet, it was the way her hands quivered that made him believe there was more to it.

he was silent for a brief moment, his mind working hard to come back with an equally cutting reply, however before he managed to do so a thought struck him, "Did Potter or Weasley do it to you and you're just trying to protect them?"

The girl gasped at his words, clearly shocked that he would even think such a thing, "They would never do anything to hurt me," and then just for emphasis she repeated, "never".

"This has something to do with earlier on doesn't it," he muttered, realisation having struck, "in the entrance hall, you were cry-" he trailed off, "you were upset. What happened Granger? Were you attacked?"

She refused to tell him, he was a Slytherin! Not just any Slytherin, but Draco Malfoy, he was a cold hearted bastard always has been always will be. She didn't care what act he was putting on, she knew deep down, that if he knew, he would do what he always did, laugh at her, taunt her, try and find ways to hurt her… it was after all what Malfoy did best. Shooting him a poisonous glare, she growled, "It was nothing, just leave me alone!"

"Fine Granger," he sighed and looked disdainful, "and you're right, it's not like I give a fuck anyway".

And then there was silence.