It was game day. Hermione wrapped her arms around her chest, hugging herself to stay warm as she walked down the stairs of the castle to get to the field. Today was the day that Quidditch season started up again and it was Hufflepuff against Gryffindor; a fair match. After all the craziness that had been going on, it was nice to have a distraction like a good old fashioned sporting event. Even if the Keeper was otherwise preoccupied with recovering in the Hospital Wing and his alternate was a failed date of hers, Hermione was determined to have fun just watching her friends fly around and try their hardest.

"Hermione! Wait!"

Whipping around on the last step, she looked up to see Harry sprinting towards her. Harry, the captain of the team, who should be giving his team a speech in the dressing room at the moment.

"What the hell are you doing out here?" She asked, taking in his disheveled appearance.

"I just saw Malfoy- talked to him. He's not coming to the match. I was wondering if you could tell Ginny that I'm gonna be late and they may need to start without me."

"And why would I do that?" She was incredulous at how serious he was about potentially missing the match.

"It's my best chance now to figure out what he's up to! Follow him while there's no one else around, see where he goes. You know, all stealthy and whatnot." Harry's eyes were shiny and his voice determined, a scary combination. He wasn't thinking properly, and was about to make a rash decision which would end up with him in deep trouble. Hermione stepped up to where he was and slapped him upside the head. He winced and rubbed the spot she'd hit. "Ow! What was that for?"

"For even thinking about missing this game for Malfoy. You're the captain! Your team needs you. Especially since they all have to deal with Cormac now." She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him gently down the stairs. "They must be waiting for you. Whatever Malfoy is up to, it can wait."

Harry grumbled a few words that she couldn't quite catch, but she knew that she probably didn't want to hear them anyway. Then he heaved a sigh and turned back to her.

"I guess you're right." He admitted regretfully. "As always." Of his own accord he turned back towards the field and started to sprint towards the dressing rooms. "See you after the match!" He yelled over his shoulder, not slowing his pace.

Hermione didn't respond, instead watching to make sure that he made it all the way to the stadium and through the dressing room doors. After seeing the last of his robes disappear as the door closed behind him, she spun and ran up the stairs, back into the castle. Just because he didn't need to know what Draco was up to, didn't mean that she couldn't check on him herself.

The castle really was empty. It had the same hollow feeling as it had had over the Christmas break. The whole school was ready to get back into the Quidditch spirit, it seemed. This made it easy for her to get up to the seventh floor in under ten minutes, quite the feat if she said so herself. Breathless, she paused in front of the wall that would open up to the Room of Requirement. She didn't know for sure that he was in there; and if he was, what she would say.

Well, just standing alone in a hallway wouldn't accomplish anything anyway. Hermione sucked in a breath and decided that she would just do what her instincts told her. Act naturally. Go in without a plan.

It scared the hell out of her.

One quick thought of 'I need to talk to Malfoy ' later and she was reaching out and pulling open the door in front of her. The room inside was exactly as she remembered it. Humongous, cluttered, and dusty. Each step she took seemed to echo off the walls, bouncing off the random objects that occupied the space.

She closed the door behind her and started forward toward where she thought the cabinet was. That's what he'd pointed to the last time they were in the room together, so it was her best bet. And just as she'd suspected, Malfoy was there. He was seated in a chair that he must've dragged from another part of the room, sitting with the back of the chair in front of him so he could cross his arms across the top, resting his head on them as he stared forward. He didn't even look around as Hermione approached, though she could tell he knew she was there.

"What do you want?" The words came out of his mouth raspy and forced since he didn't bother to raise his head to speak, his chin digging into his arm with each word.

"Harry was going to miss the Quidditch game." She stated vaguely, trying to catch his interest.

He turned his head slightly to look at her out of the corner of his eye. After assessing her for a moment, he let out a snort and turned his head back to the cabinet.

"And why should I care about that?"

"Because he was going to miss it so he could follow you. Here."

At that, he raised his head. It took him a moment to stand up from the chair and spin around to face her, his expression only barely concealing the flash of fear he felt of actually being followed by Harry.

"And?" He prompted, crossing his arms. "Why didn't he?"

"I told him not to." Hermione admitted, crossing her arms as well; adopting the same stance as him.

Malfoy looked down at her crossed arms and immediately dropped his, raising one of his hands to push his hair out of his face. He began to pace around her, studying her. It made her feel incredibly uncomfortable and yet she held her ground, not giving him the satisfaction of slinking back or trying to leave.

"Why?" He finally asked after making one full circle around her. The question was simple, but it made her chest tighten and her mouth felt like it was full of cotton balls. She didn't know the answer, not really.

"Gryffindor could really use a win right now." She thought of the first explanation that came to her mind which didn't involve the the idea of 'protecting him'. "And especially with Ron in the Hospital Wing, they needed him on the field."

"So, it wasn't for my sake then?" His eyebrows crept up his forehead and his eyes bored into hers.

Again, she didn't know what to say. She couldn't tell whether saying 'No' would be a lie or not. Whether she really had taken into consideration what Harry might do if he found out what Malfoy was doing.

"Harry doesn't need to know this yet." She said instead. She'd told herself that she'd follow her instincts in here, but she wasn't sure she could trust them completely. Half-truths should suffice, right?

"But you'll tell him eventually?" Malfoy asked pointedly, his jaw clenching after he said the words. He was taking a defensive standpoint.

"If he needs to know, I will." Hermione thought that was a pretty good answer. It explained why she hadn't told him yet, and made herself feel better.

"Which, he doesn't. He won't ever need to know." He dropped his gaze from her and started to walk back to his chair.

"How can you be so sure?" Her hands dropped from her chest and her palms turned forward, exasperated. "Actually, how can I be sure?"

"I already told you why I'm doing this." He turned his face back towards hers. His expression was always torn between putting up his usual haughty guarding look and letting his underlying pain show through. "You don't need to get involved. Unless you wanted to throw him off my scent or something. But otherwise, I can do this on my own."

Hermione shifted her weight from foot to foot, twisting her hands together in front of her. She hated never knowing what to do anymore.

"I can't do that. Not without blatantly betraying him." She said decidedly, watching has his face dropped and he turned away.

"Okay, then." Malfoy sat back down in his chair, back actually against the back of the chair this time. He closed his eyes and leant back. He waved his hand at her dismissively and then folded them in his lap. "You can go."

That just made her mad. Mad, and confused. Because she didn't want to go. Instead she dropped to the floor a few feet in front of him, crossing her legs leaning back on her palms. She watched as he opened one eye and saw her sitting there.

"Getting comfortable, are you?" He asked tiredly, closing his eye again.

"Well, starting to watch a Quidditch match halfway through is no fun. So I might as well stay here." She looked past him to the cabinet behind him, still not sure exactly what it was. As long as she stayed here, he probably couldn't work on it at least. Maybe that was why she felt inclined to stay; to stop him from working, progressing in any way. Yeah, that had to be it.

"Sure," he smirked, opening both his eyes now and looking down at her.

They were quiet for a moment, just looking at each other. Not just looking, judging. Waiting to see who would talk first. Who would crack. Who had something to hide; an ulterior motive. The air between them felt electric as they studied each other.

He couldn't forget his prejudices as he stared at her, but couldn't act on them since he was vulnerable here in this moment. She couldn't forget how he'd acted towards her in the past, but couldn't help but understand his present circumstances and how his family had shaped him. She couldn't stop thinking about how it would feel to be so afraid for your parents, to be responsible for whether they lived or died. These nagging thoughts caused her to be the first to crack.

"Do you want to talk?" Hermione offered, leaning forward and clasping her hands together in her lap. "I mean, about your parents or anything? Have you told anyone else?"

Malfoy mulled her words over for a moment, still gazing at her and trying to pick his own response carefully. She was beginning to fear that he wouldn't actually respond when he also leaned forward and spoke.

"I have told someone. One other someone," He started, looking down at his hands. "But they're not really a someone. I don't know. They pretend to understand but it's been so long since they've been someone that I don't think it's real. It's not the same."

"Someone... who's not a someone?" Her eyebrows furrowed together as she tried to piece that together. "You realize you're not making any sense, right?"

"It's embarrassing," He admitted, slight colour coming to his cheeks.

Finally, some proof that there was still life under that pallid exterior. Hermione kept looking at him as he stared at his hands, picking at his own fingernails. Someone who wasn't a someone. Someone who was willing to listen to anyone, who wanted company. Someone who was embarrassing to know. A thought struck her, accompanied by memories of said thought, and she couldn't help but let out a laugh. Malfoy looked back up at her, startled.

"Please don't tell me," Hermione tried to stop herself from giggling. He was actually talking to her, telling her something, and she didn't want to ruin it by making fun of him. But the thought was just too tempting. "Please don't say that you've been talking to Moaning Myrtle about this?"

His cheeks turned an even deeper red as he dropped his gaze again. She couldn't stop another laugh from escaping, but she tried to force down the rest.

"I mean, yeah, she's uhm," she tried to find the words to describe the ghost who haunted the girl's bathroom. "She certainly takes a liking to boys. Any boy."

"Hey!" He looked back up, the colour fading only slightly from his cheeks. "I take offense to that."

"I didn't mean it that way!" She rushed to respond, causing her own cheeks to blush a bit. "I meant... Well, she's lonely. She'll talk to anyone about anything. I guess I can see why you'd be able to talk to her. Though, I don't know how secretive she really is."

"She's kept it so far, I don't think she'll start blabbing about it anytime soon," Malfoy said in the ghost's defense, before tilting his head and adding; "But I do know what you mean about her being willing to listen. I guess I never really thought about why."

"'How the lonely need another soul to cling to'" Hermione quoted a Muggle poet she'd grown quite fond of. She was so used to quoting and citing things that fit situations and problems she faced in class that she didn't even realize she'd said it out loud until Malfoy looked at her questioningly.

"That's...nice, I suppose." He said, his lips turning up in the corner like he was trying not to smile.

"Just, uhm," Her cheeks grew redder than his ever had as she ducked her face for a moment to breathe. She thought he was laughing at her. She supposed she deserved it, having laughed at his expense just moments before. "Nothing."

"No, really." Malfoy's tone was serious, causing her to look back up at him. What she saw was him reaching out a hand like he was going to touch her shoulder or push back her hair, be it as a comforting gesture or a reassuring touch, she couldn't tell. But he caught her eye and stopped himself, pulling his hand back. Leaning back in his seat, he focused his gaze on a pile of books behind her. "It makes sense."

"Okay," Hermione said, simply because she didn't know what else to say. She felt like she'd finally scratched the surface of what made Malfoy, Malfoy, and now she was at a loss for words to keep it going. When he didn't look back down at her, seemingly lost in thought as he stared off into the distance, she took that as her cue to leave. With about as much grace as an elephant, she managed to get to her feet. Her movement caused him to finally look at her, and as she started to take a step back to leave, he stood up as well. She stopped in her tracks and looked at him expectantly, as if he was supposed to say something. But he didn't.

"I guess, I should be going then." She still wasn't sure what to say, or do, or anything in this situation.

"Okay," He responded and smiled slightly again, mocking her previous response lightly.

She was about to turn and walk away, back towards the exit of the Room of Requirement, when she was struck with a thought of a previous conversation of theirs; how she hadn't ended it properly because she had been too distracted. Instead of leaving, she turned quickly and stepped towards him. She grabbed him lightly by the shoulders and leaned in, grazing his cheek with her lips and then pulling back. He was stiff from shock and staring at her in disbelief, waiting for an explanation.

"For being sorry about Ron," she said quietly. "You didn't have to be, and you were. Thank you."

When he didn't respond, she twisted around and headed for the door. After a few steps she stopped again and looked at him over her shoulder. He was still where she left him, staring after her.

"And I'm sorry about your parents." Hermione sought Malfoy's eyes, but there was a glassy look to them, as if he wasn't all there. She continued anyway, hoping the words got to him. "I don't have to be, but I am. I'm sorry."

And with that, she left for real. Closing the door behind herself, she headed down the hallway to the stairs, where she eventually found herself back outside on the castle grounds, walking towards the Quidditch pitch where she could hear cheering and chanting as the game must have been coming to a close. As she prepared herself to face Harry, and pretend that she'd been watching the entire game, Hermione thought of just how deep the grave that she was digging herself must be by now.