Author's Note: Thanks to all of you who have been reviewing!!!

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Hermione walked down her stairs into the common room. She stopped when she saw Draco sitting on the Slytherin couch, hunched over with his hands clasped, staring at the fire. She took a deep breath. Well here goes nothing, she thought.

"Draco?" she asked, her voice wavering a little.

His head snapped toward her, a questioning look on his face. "What did you just call me?" he asked in disbelief.

"Umm. Draco. I mean that IS your name isn't it?" she asked nervously. This wasn't going as well as she had hoped.

He looked at her oddly. "I guess, Hermione." he said, stressing her name.

She felt her heart jump a bit. Her name sounded so…nice…when he said it. She took a small step toward him and stopped. "Um, could we, you know, talk?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "What about?"

"Well, I just wanted to..to..apologize."

THAT got his attention. He stood up quickly and turned around. "YOU?" he asked incredulously. "Apologize for what?"

Hermione bit her lip for a second and then blurted out, "for calling you a Death Eater. I mean, its really none of my business who you choose to.."

Draco interrupted her. "Forget it. Besides," he said wryly, "I'm the one who should be apologizing. So….damn this is hard to say. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for calling you Mudblood. Really." he finished, looking a bit uncomfortable.

Hermione held back a laugh. She didn't think she'd ever see the day when Draco said sorry. It apparently wasn't something he was used to saying because he looked so uncomfortable.

"Forget it." she said lightly.

She hesitated again. "But, if you don't mind me asking, why did you react so violently to being called a Death Eater? I mean, aren't you one?"

"NO." Draco emphasized. "I don't WANT to be one either."

Hermione stood there stunned. She had expected a completely different answer. She would have even be prepared for him to start a fight with her.

"This summer I began to realize how hypocritical my father is," Draco continued. "I mean, he believes that only purebloods are good wizards but he follows the orders of a half-blood. And, I know that what he believes isn't true because…"

"Because why?" Hermione asked, a bit surprised at how much he was telling her.

Draco hesitated; glancing toward the door to make sure it was shut. "Because of you." he said quietly.

"ME?" she cried out. "What do you mean?"

"Shhh." Draco hissed at her. "Well, because you're the best witch in our year which clearly shows that purebloods are the best."

"Oh." Hermione was stumped. He had never before complimented her or even shown that he knew that she was the top student in their year.

"And then look at Crabbe and Goyle. They're great examples that purebloods are the best. They're not exactly brilliant." Draco said.

A laugh escaped from Hermione. She tried to hold it back. "That's the understatement of the year," she said, her eyes twinkling mischeviously.

Draco grinned at her. He reflected for a minute on how odd it was to be laughing with her. But he just felt so at ease with her, like he could tell her anything.

"Well, a rock DOES have a higher IQ then them, doesn't it?" he asked, smiling a bit.

He watched as she laughed again. He liked her laugh. It reminded him of bells. He wanted to hear her laugh again. He thought for a second and then grinned when he thought of something else.

"Calling Crabbe and Goyle smart would be like calling Pansy the Pug pretty." he said, looking smug.

Hermione's eyes widened and she began to laugh. "Draco!" she exclaimed, gasping between laughs, "you're horrible!"

He smiled at her and she smiled back at him, the earlier tension broken and years of harsh insults forgotten.

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