A/N: Once again, thank you to all the people who are reading this, and especially those who are reviewing: lunlunmon, smartcat, ebonyS2, living dead, Lucifer's Lair, darktwistedpoet, roguedork, KayeRyoko, Encrypted Pseudonym, lol, ABleedingShadow and OnerousOrangutang.

Also a special thanks to my beta reader Encrypted Pseudonym without whom I could not have written this chapter, and thanks for putting up with my constant e-mails filled with "Why does this sentence sound wrong! What shall I do! HELP!" I could go on but you get enough of it already. So anyways thanks.

I would also like to remind everyone that this is written as though the sixth book HAD NOT been released as my fic was started before the book came out.

Disclaimer: "I don't own Harry Potter…"


The blond boy cast a gentle eye upon her as she struggled to find the right words; he dared not move for the moment was so fragile he feared it would all to easily break. "It was dark," she whispered her eyes liquefying once more, and for a moment he wasn't sure if she would continue, and yet after what seemed an eternity, her lips parted once more as if to continue.

Before another single word could escape her mouth however, a resounding crash interrupted their conversation as thedoor swung open and banged sharply into the stone wall, causing the head boy and girl to leap apart, the loud noise apparently having reminded each of them who they were with.

Ron stood in the doorway, his face slightly pinker than was normal, even for a Weasley. His eyes, bright with anger, surveyed the room and took in the guilty looking expressions on both their faces and not failing to notice the unshed tears in Hermione's eyes. "What the hell is going on!" He demanded almost shaking with rage.

"Nothing Weasel, you're welcome to the filthy mudblood, I would never touch... that" came the cold and all too familiar voice of Draco Malfoy and with that the moment which he had shared with the girl had been broken and normality resumed. Although he had enjoyed the feel of her body close to his, it didn't feel real and it didn't feel right. Anger and coldness he could handle, anything beyond began to scare him and so he remained on the ground which he was familiar with. And even though he knew it was the fault of the redhead that the only chance he had to find what was wrong with Granger had just slipped through his fingers, for some reason, perhaps out of habit, he found himself taking out his anger on the muggleborn girl before him. He knew his words had hurt her, and for the briefest of moments he felt guilt, but that was a feeling that as a Malfoy he had learned from an early age to ignore; yet this time he was finding it harder than ever before.

Ron turned almost purple with the effort it took to prevent himself from punching the pasty faced boy again. "If you EVER lay a finger on her I swear I'll..." the boy trailed off, apparently so furious that even speech seemed to fail him.

"Ron, leave it, he's not worth it," Hermione finally managed to choke out pulling herself together.

She shook her head at the hot headed Gryffindor willing him with her eyes to leave it be, and inwardly wondering why Malfoy's words had stung more than she was expecting. She had been almost sure that over the years she had built up an immunity to his petty insults, and yet something had changed for the words which escaped his lips stung.

She hated him.

Ron gaped at her for a second; he was seemingly unable to understand why Hermione wouldn't just let him beat the shit out of the Slytherin bastard and yet there seemed to be a certain finality to her words, and so this once he let it go. Turning away from Malfoy he led the way out of the room and with one final fleeting glance the girl followed him out the door.

The blond Slytherin stood alone in the room, for a moment blocking out all thoughts, until he could resist them no more, and the look Hermione had given him as she left the room seemed to have imprinted itself in his mind. He knew there had been a mixture of both anger and what seemed to be pity in her eyes; and this more than anything confused the boy for if anything it should be he who did the pitying. After all she was the mudblood, and he was everything she could never be; he had power and riches and a perfect bloodline. And yet as these thoughts resounded in his mind, a little voice seemed to silence them all, a voice which Draco had not known even existed and he couldn't help but think 'but it's you that's standing here alone' and for a moment it dawned on him what it meant to have everything and nothing all at the same time.

The boy was not sure quite how long he stood there but when he did finally emerge from the room, the corridors of Hogwarts were deserted and a silence had filled the space which only a few hours prior had been full of life and commotion and this alone was enough to tell him that it was late. Late enough for there to be consequences, even for a head boy such as himself, if he were now caught out of bed; and yet he didn't care because for once in his life Draco Malfoy's thoughts were consumed with someone other than himself.

He walked so casually to the Gryffindor common room that one would not for a moment have guessed that he was preparing to enter the enemy's lair and further more to do something a Malfoy had never done before. He didn't know why he was doing it, but he chose to tell himself that it was just because he was curious by nature and it was the only means to get Hermione to confess to him what had happened to her. And there was nothing; nothing more in it than that.

He muttered the password to the portrait of the fat lady who glared at him; never having quite accepted that head boys and girls were allowed into all the house common rooms, and grudgingly swung open allowing for the boy to take a step into the room. He entered slowly so as not to disturb any of the sleeping members of the Gryffindor house as it was late and he was too tired for yet another confrontation with that bloody Weasley boy.

He smiled wondering what Potter and his little side-kick would make of the fact that he was sneaking into Granger's room in the middle of the night. He couldn't help smirking a little at this while knocking ever so gently on the girls bedroom door, before entering, not having bothered to wait for a reply.

The girl was sitting in bed, holding a large volume in her hand and was apparently too enthralled in the words on the pages before her that she did not straight away notice the blond boy who had entered her room.

"Granger…" He began, but didn't get much further as the girl, obviously shocked by his presence dropped her book onto the floor and gave a little shriek which was half masked by the loud thud the book made as it fell from her lap and onto the cream carpet. He looked at the cover and raised an almost silver brow in amusement, "The Hogwarts founders uncovered?" he smirked reading the now faded red writing of the title.

Hermione glared at him and made to pick up the large book, "what are you doing here Malfoy," she sighed wearily; she was tired and had better things to do than play his mind games.

"I wanted to apologize," he muttered casually, "about earlier".

"Great," Hermione marked her page and placed the book in the little wooden cupboard nearby before sitting cross legged at the end of her bed, "and now that's over with perhaps you could close the door on your way out".

"Granger…" he paused for a second to recollect his thoughts; he had no idea what to say next and considered just leaving, but that moment passed quickly and he continued to speak, "what is it exactly that you want from me, I apologized didn't I?"

"Really Malfoy, and that's meant to make it all better is it? Because believe me it doesn't," she glared at him, and each word which came out of her mouth was reinforced by a look of pure venom which she shot him, "and what is it exactly that you are apologizing for Malfoy? If it for the last seven years of prejudice against me purely for the fact that I am muggle born, is it for making me feel like a nobody all those times you insulted me when I did nothing to you, or are you apologizing because you tricked me for a moment into thinking you might actually having a heart before once again proving me wrong?"

For a moment speech failed him and instead he leaned against the door which he had just shut behind him and took in the girl's words. He couldn't understand why she was being so unreasonable… I mean sure maybe she did have a bit of a point. He just never really realized how much his words had affected her. Stupid mudblood… why does she always have to be right!

She looked at him expectantly, her eyes willing him to just leave and yet at the same time wanting to believe his apology had been sincere, however she could not forget that he was a Malfoy and Malfoy's were notorious for hating muggleborns. Notorious for hating her.

"You know what I don't get?" she asked in a quiet whisper, hardly daring to believe what she was asking him, and not sure why either, though it was a reasonable enough question, "What has any muggleborn even done to you?"

"You wouldn't understand Granger," he sighed.

"Really?" the girl bit back, her cheeks slightly aflame with anger, "I wouldn't understand? Perhaps Malfoy what you mean by that is you don't have an answer. Your prejudice against mudbloods is stupid and unjustifiable and comes from your bloody father who you, for some reason, seem to believe".

"Shut the fuck up Granger," he growled taking a step towards her threateningly however she remained unmoved by the rage which flared up with him, "you don't know what you're talking about".

"Really so why don't you explain it to me?" she challenged, standing up to look him in the eye, subconsciously letting him know in this way that she was just as strong as he was.

"Look just forget it," he sighed, "this isn't why I came. I didn't want another argument".

"Well arguing is what we do Malfoy; you of all people should have realized this by now," the girl muttered, once again resuming her previous position at the end of her bed. She crossed her legs and looked up at the blond Slytherin, trying to work him out. A seemingly impossible task as Draco Malfoy was a person with many depths and layers. Perhaps not all visible, but definitely all there.

He smiled almost genuinely and pulled his wand out of his pocket, "look, let me prove to you that I'm not all bad. I think I know how to get rid of that writing off your wall," he turned to face the scorched wall to his left, trying not to laugh at the memory of Granger setting it on fire.

Wearily the girl pulled out of her own pocket the two pieces of broken wood, momentarily having forgotten the state of her wand. She looked down at it first in dismay and then in something which was much closer to amusement than anything else and despite the sheer inconvenience of it all Hermione couldn't help but let out a little laugh.

"Granger if you wanted to give up magic and go live in the wild you could have just said, you didn't have to go to the lengths of snapping your wand."

Hermione looked up at him outraged, before realizing that he was joking. She could tell by the smirk which had graced his features. It wasn't the usual ugly disgusted smirk that contorted his face whenever he was insulting her. This was different. It was gentler and as he spoke his eyes sparkled with amusement and, for the first time, when she looked up at him, she didn't see Draco Malfoy Slytherin prince, instead she just saw a boy.