Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter, not me.

A/N: I'm really sorry that it's taken me so long to post. School is so demanding but I'm gonna try to make more time to write. I love reviews and suggestions and constructive criticism! Enjoy!

Chapter Ten

Hermione's POV

Hermione woke up from a deep sleep with a weight on her chest. She was lying on her back in her bed with the covers just barely covering her stomach. The weight was Ron's heavy arm, and it was draped over her, almost protectively.

Looking out her window, Hermione saw that the sun was out and it looked like a beautiful day, albeit chilly from the autumn season.

She slowly and carefully removed herself from Ron's entangled limbs, donned a robe, and made her way to the bathroom, towel and clothes in hand. Remembering to lock the door, (Hermione always locked the door ever since that particular instance with Malfoy) she began to draw a steamy bath. Settling into the hot water, Hermione was able to sit in the tub and relax.

The weight on her chest was still there, however. Hermione wasn't sure exactly what it was that was making her feel… guilty? Is that what she felt? For sleeping with her boyfriend? What would make her feel guilty for doing that?

That's when Hermione remembered the look on Malfoy's face when he had walked in on them. She wasn't positive, but she was fairly certain that she saw pain on his face. She would think that he would be grossed out or repulsed by the sight, considering he hated both her and Ron, but that was not what she saw.

Slowly bringing up the soap-soaked loofah over her arms, Hermione contemplated the reasons why her making out with Ron would hurt Malfoy.

The sight of us making out was beyond disgusting, which must have been painful to see.

Hermione scoffed at that. She knew she wasn't that bad looking, and she also knew for a fact that Malfoy got another sneak peak at her goodies, and what teenage boy would complain about that?

Maybe he really cared that we were doing it on the couch. She didn't think that would be that big of a deal. Seriously, one wave of a wand and the couch could be cleaned.

Closing her eyes and resting her head on the edge of the bathtub, Hermione breathed deeply, taking in the scent of lavender and vanilla, and tried to think of a logical answer.

Maybe Malfoy has feelings for you.

Hermione's eyes snapped open and it took all of her willpower to not laugh out loud.

That is NOT logical.

She could not believe her own brain had come to that conclusion. She'd been at Hogwarts for six years, and for six years Malfoy had disliked her. She would go as far to say that he loathed her.

Yeah, but hasn't he been acting nicer towards you? Apologizing to you? Complimenting you? He even listened to muggle music!

True, but I also know that he is doing that to butter me up for something, make me take my guard down.

Are you sure?

Hermione was not crazy. She knew that crazy people talked to themselves, and answered themselves, but Hermione was not crazy. Malfoy? Like her?

Maybe I am crazy.

Shut up.

"Argh!"

Frustrated with her mind, she got out of the tub, drained the water, dried off, and changed into her clothes, some green Victoria's Secret sweatpants with the word PINK on the back in pink and a white tank top. Deciding her hair can dry on its own, she crept back into her room.

Ron was still fast asleep. Noticing that it was 9:17 A.M., Hermione knew Ron would be sleeping for at least another hour.

She gathered some materials to study and took them to the common room. There she curled herself onto the couch, opened her Potions book, and delved into the text.

Draco's POV

Draco wasn't sure what woke him in the first place, but all he knew was that he could not fall back asleep. The previous night's events began to replay in his mind. This was not what he wanted to think about when first waking up. He looked at the clock. 9:19 A.M. Ugh, why so early?

Knowing that nothing wakes him up like a hot shower, Draco gathered the necessities and made his way to the bathroom. Immediately he knew Granger was just in here. Lavender and vanilla filled the room, mixing quite nicely in his opinion. Seeing that the tub was just finished draining the water, he knew she had taken a bath. He hoped that Weasley had not joined her. That would sure dampen his mood even more.

Opting for a quick shower, Draco washed and dried in about ten minutes. He dressed in dark, distressed jeans and a black button down shirt, his hair ruffled slightly but for the most part falling down in front of his eyes, for Malfoys always look good, even on weekends.

Might as well be productive while I'm up.

He grabbed some books and began descending the stairs to the common room. Then he noticed that someone was sitting on the couch. The couch. Granger, of course. He almost turned on his heel, not really wanting to look at her, but at the same time he did, when he remembered that they needed to plan the ball soon. At least it's an excuse to talk to her. He took a slow breath, then made his way to her.

When he reached the couch, he could smell the lavender and vanilla wafting from her hair. He made his way around and sat on the chair next to the couch.

"Where's the Weasel-bee now?"

Granger looked up sharply at Draco, furrowed her brows at him, and went back to her book.

"Sleeping."

"Oh, so the other romp in the tub wore him out?" Draco asked. "He needs to work on his stamina."

Granger shut her book at looked at Draco square in the eye. "Malfoy, Ron's stamina is none of your business, I don't know what romp you're talking about in the tub, and unless you and I have something relevant to talk about, I would suggest you study somewhere else because I am not moving, nor am I discussing anything to do with last night."

She took a breath, held his gaze for a few seconds, and reopened her book and continued reading.

Draco sat back further into the chair, stretching his long legs before him, making himself more comfortable. "Good, because I really didn't want to ever bring that up again, either." Granger did not look up. "And I guess you've forgotten, but we do have something to talk about. The Christmas Ball needs planning still."

With a defeated sigh, Granger closed her eyes for a few seconds and let her head rest on the back of the couch. She seemed to be sleeping or thinking, but then she shut her book and set it aside. She took some parchment out and grabbed a quill, and drew her attention to Draco.

"Ok, let's start planning."

Slightly caught off guard by her sudden change of cooperation, Draco quickly came up with some topics.

"Ok, well for starters, we need to set a date and time, which should obviously be only a day or two before break."

"Two days before break sounds good to me." Granger scratched that down on the parchment.

"Uh, Ok. Well, the Yule Ball started at like seven, right? So I guess we could start this ball then, too."

Granger made a note on the parchment and looked back up to Draco, expectantly. Deciding this wasn't so bad, Draco continued giving ideas.

"There needs to be a band, of course, and not a stuffy boring one. Perhaps the Weird Sisters would come back to Hogwarts."

Again, Granger wrote it down on the parchment.

Together, he and Granger planned the rest of the details in about thirty minutes.

"Ok, so we need two prefects to be in charge of decorations, two prefects to do snacks and punch, two prefects to take care of the music, and two prefects to send out the invitations." Granger checked each point off as she read them. "Then we'll assign rounds during the ball later."

"Sounds good." Draco was pleased that they didn't have to do much more. Being Head Boy is so sweet.

Granger folded the parchment in half and placed it on the coffee table.

Draco looked at her for just a little bit longer before nodding to himself and opening his potions book. After about three minutes he heard Granger scoff quietly. Then, two minutes later, she groaned. After she made a noise very close to a growl, Draco asked her what her problem was.

"I can't do this homework as efficiently as possible without that damn book!"

"Book?" Draco said.

"Yes, it's called Remedies, Antibiotics, and Vaccines: Potions of the Healing Variety. It would be so helpful right now. I don't know why Snape never just assigned it to begin with. I meant to buy it in Diagon Alley, but completely forgot…Oh what am I doing rambling on? You don't care anyway."

Granger went back scratching something she had written off her parchment.

Draco sat there for a good four minutes, going back and forth in his head.

Should I? Shouldn't I? Would it be too weird if she knew I bought it for her? Do I care at this point? Do I have a choice?

Deciding that he has to start showing Granger he's changed sometime, Draco rose swiftly out of his seat to retrieve the desired literature.

Hermione's POV

Where's he going?

Shrugging, Hermione went back to trying to figure out which antibiotic would be most useful in a combined attack by a vampire and a werewolf. Just then a shadow came over her and she looked up. Right in front of her face was the book, the book she had just been complaining about not having, the book she's been needing and wanting every since the term had started. She looked up to see Malfoy holding the book out in front of him.

"You own it?" She asked him, a puzzled look on her face. "You've had it this entire time?"

Malfoy shifted on his feet uncomfortably.

"Well, no, not this whole time."

"So when did you get it?" Hermione, for some reason, couldn't just let it go.

Malfoy sighed. "Look, you were saying something about needing it one other time, and I figured that since we're trying to be civil to each other and I knew where a copy was, why not just get it for you? Are you going to take it or not?"

Hermione reached out and took the book from Malfoy's hands. "Where was a copy? I know it's not in the library; I've searched about one hundred times."

"Do you always ask this many questions when someone does something nice for you?" Malfoy asked, becoming a bit disgruntled for the lack of appreciation.

"I don't know. I knew Madam Pince had a copy not available to the other students. I figured you needed it more than anybody, so I got it from her." Malfoy shrugged and sat down.

Hermione stared at the book. She was confused; grateful, but confused. Why was Malfoy getting her gifts? Well, it might not classify as a gift per se, but still, he must have purchased the book from Madam Pince. She did not know what to make of this.

Finally remembering her manners, Hermione looked back at Malfoy, who was back to doing his potions, and coughed nervously.

"Well, thank you. Very much. I appreciate that you thought to get it for me."

Malfoy looked at Hermione with a light expression on his face.. "You're welcome." He went back to his homework.

Hermione returned to her own homework.

"Oh, and one more thing." Hermione looked up to see Malfoy looking at her with a smirk on his lips. "Since I did buy it, I can assume I can borrow it whenever I need it, right?"

Hermione, despite herself, giggled.

"Yes, you can use it whenever you need to."

Unfortunately, right as Hermione was giggling, Ron walked down from her room.

"What the fuck, Hermione?"

Hermione's head whipped around so fast her still damp hair wrapped around her neck. Ron was standing at the top of her balcony overlooking the common room. His face was red with rage.

Hermione sighed impatiently. "Ron, there's nothing to worry about. Please, just don't worry about it."

"Like hell there's nothing to worry about! Here I am, sleeping away in your bed, while you're out here flirting with Malfoy!"

"Ron! Get a hold of yourself! I was not flirting with Malfoy. We've been doing homework for the past hour, something you should be doing as well."

Ron began to stalk down the staircase like an angry tiger, waiting to pounce on its prey. He had a beyond-angry look to his face, yet his voice was controlled, calm even.

"I'm sorry. I forgot that potions homework usually comes with giggling like a fucking schoolgirl."

Hermione was genuinely scared of Ron right now. She had never seen him this angry, and even worse, she didn't even understand why he was so furious at her! What had she really done to make him mad? She chanced a quick glance at Malfoy, sure that the fear was evident in her eyes.

During this whole exchange, Malfoy had simply sat in the chair, watching the couple fight, but after Hermione looked at him, he then said, "Weasley, you really need to chill out." That sent Ron over the edge.

"DON'T TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK TO DO, MALFOY!" Spit was flying from Ron's mouth as he bellowed and pointed his finger at Malfoy. Hermione cringed even further into the couch, but Malfoy did not react. In fact, he stood up and began moving closer to Ron, slowly, in a menacing way.

"And what gives you the right to tell Granger who she can talk to?" Malfoy's voice was low, but demanding.

Ron gave Malfoy a look that implied he thought Malfoy was mentally incompetent. "She's my girlfriend, that's why."

Hermione, scared stiff in the couch, piped up at that comment.

"Hey now, Ron, just because we're dating doesn't give you the ri—" Malfoy interrupted her.

"She is a bright, strong-willed witch that is more capable to do anything in the entire wizarding world than you'll ever dream of being. She is perfectly capable of deciding for herself who she wants to talk with." Malfoy just stood there and stared at Ron, not looking Hermione's direction.

Hermione's jaw was on the floor, she was sure. Had Malfoy really just defended her? No, more than defended her, he defended her, then complimented her, again.

Ron began to sputter incoherently, his face even more red, if that was possible. Malfoy continued.

"Or have you not caught up with the twenty-first century, Weasley? Are you such a chauvinistic pig that you believe a woman is below a man, that he has ultimate control over her? Hmm? Tell the truth now, your girlfriend is right there." Malfoy nodded his head in the direction that Hermione was, directly beside him, in the couch still.

Hermione couldn't help but look expectantly at Ron. He looked back at her, still angry, but his face relaxed slightly.

"Of course I don't believe women are below men. Hermione can talk to whoever she wants, as long as it's not you." Malfoy had the audacity to smirk.

"Why? Jealous? Afraid she may realize what she's missing out on?"

Hermione knew instantly that this conversation is not going to do anymore good. She promptly stood up and stepped between Malfoy and Ron.

"Ron, don't listen to Malfoy. He's just trying to rile you up. I think it's best you two separate, right now. C'mon, I'll walk you out." She grabbed his arm.

"Are you coming with me?" Ron looked down at Hermione, still fuming. Speaking carefully, Hermione looked up to Ron.

"No, I need to finish my homework. I can meet up with you later if you want?" Hermione tried to make it seem she was not kicking Ron out of her room, even though she was. She just did not want another fight, but she really did want to work on her homework, and speak with Malfoy. Ron rolled his eyes and yanked his arm out of her grip forcefully.

"Don't fucking talk to me, then." And with that, he stormed out of the common room, again.

Rooted to the spot, Hermione's eyes began to tear up. Malfoy moved a millimeter when Hermione snapped at him.

"Don't you fucking go anywhere. We need to talk." And Hermione moved to the couch, sat down roughly, and crossed her arms over her chest, looking up at Malfoy with a hard look on her face. Malfoy did not move.

"Sit." Malfoy sat down in his chair. "Explain."

Sighing, Malfoy leaned forward and rested his head in his hands.

"What do you want me to explain?" he asked, looking at his shoes.

"Explain to me why you keep treating me this way. You insult me, turn around and compliment me, insult me again, then turn around and defend me. I do not understand why you are so bipolar. And tell me the truth" Hermione waited for his answer. Malfoy slowly lifted his head from his hands and looked at Hermione.

"Ok, fine, I'll tell you the truth. I've changed, Granger. Ever since my father got sent to that prison, I've become a new person. I don't care about blood or social status or being a Deatheater. I've never really wanted to be a deatheater in the first place, but it was always my destiny because of who my father was. I don't even believe the freak Voldemort is even alive, and I'm glad he's dead. And I'm glad my father is going to die in a small cell, too. He's done nothing but force his opinions down my throat since I was born. Now he's gone, I'm free to make my own choices. I choose who I associate with, I choose who I like and who I dislike. I am trying to change my personality from evil to good, but it's a slow, difficult process. I'm honestly sorry that you got caught in the crossfire of my temper, and I apologize. I really would like to start over with you because I feel so guilty for making the last seven years of your life miserable. I was obeying a psychopath and now I'm my own man, I see the errors of my ways. Could you ever forgive me?"

Malfoy's stare had never wavered during his little speech, spilling his heart out to Hermione. All she could do was sit and stare back, almost unbelieving. But she did believe. She believed every word he said to her. She just didn't know what to say in return. He kept staring at her, patiently waiting. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She shut her mouth quickly, still trying to get her brain functioning again. Malfoy carried on.

"And since I'm revealing all my secrets, apparently, I just need to say that you deserve so much more than that Weasley. He doesn't know how lucky he is to have you, and honestly, he's nothing but a big waste. You're a brave, beyond intelligent, strong woman and you need a man who can appreciate that."

Hermione could not fathom what she was hearing. All this time this is what Malfoy really thought of her? She could feel tears sting her eyes and travel down her cheeks slowly. Her world was turning upside down. Everything she thought she knew just flew out the window.

Malfoy apparently had waited long enough. He rose from his seat and started to walk around the back of the couch, towards his staircase.

"Malfoy, wait."

He stopped and looked back at her, twisted around in the couch to face him, silent tears still streaming down her wet face. She breathed deeply.

"Those were the nicest, most sincere things anybody had ever said to me. I forgive you, and would like to start over as well. Draco." Hermione tried the name on her tongue. She liked saying it.

She waited for him to reply, and a slow smile spread across his face. She never realized how charming his crooked smile was, and she could not stop her own smile that appeared on her face.

"Thanks, Hermione, I'll see you later." And with that, he continued his way up the stairs to his room. Hermione had the feeling that this was the beginning of the biggest change of her life.