A/N: Hello my lovelies. As ever, thank you so much for the amazing response on chapter 9, you're all brilliant!

Updates are going to be just once a week from now on, I can imagine. I know I updated twice when I was writing Two Weeks but the chapters were only half the length in that story so if you think about it, I'm still writing the same amount per week, but it just equates into less frequent updates. I hope you don't mind.

Enjoy, everyone! :)

10

:. The Truth .:

"Hermione, what's going on?"

"Harry?" Hermione whirled on the spot. Sure enough, it was her best friend who stood before her. "What are you doing up?" she asked nonchalantly, unable to ignore the accusatory tone to Harry's voice.

"I heard a noise. It sounded like you. It was kind of like a surprised scream."

Hermione thought back. There were two instances where she made such a noise, and she certainly wasn't going to inform Harry of the second hug, so she opted to explain the first instance.

"Yeah um, Dra- Malfoy just so happened to leave his room the same time I did. I just got up because I needed a drink," she said.

"What was he doing up?" Harry crossed his arms and leant against the section of wall that separated two of the doors.

"Is that really relevant?" Hermione asked in return.

"Yes," Harry said flatly. Hermione really didn't know where he was going with this, but she decided to play along for now.

"He said he couldn't sleep," she shrugged. "He didn't say why, though. Probably just the heat in the rooms or something."

"Hermione, I want you to be honest with me," Harry said, steadily meeting her gaze.

"Okay."

"Did you and Malfoy plan this little late-night get-together?"

"What?" Hermione spluttered. "Just what is it that you're accusing me of? Did Ron put you up to this?"

"No," Harry said. "Don't give me that look, Hermione, I'm being honest."

"So where has all of this come from? What happened to you not picking sides?" Hermione asked, feeling slightly hurt.

"It's just, Ron looked pretty pissed when you impulsively just hugged Malfoy like you did after the task. He's been completely spaced out all night. He wouldn't even talk to me and when he did speak he sounded like he was on the verge of tears. I know what you said to him when he suggested you insisted on seeing other people just to have some fling or whatever with Malfoy. But things have looked pretty, well… suspicious, I guess. I just don't want to see him get hurt."

"Suspicious?" Hermione put her hands on her hips. "You can't be seriously implying that I had any control over that stupid Spin the Quill game. If you want an explanation of what happened during the task, then… well, you know how competitive I get."

Harry nodded vigorously, easily recalling her surly expression in first year when she discovered her inability to fly.

"Apparently Malfoy's exactly the same, and we were just doing so well that I guess we both forgot who we were working with for a moment."

Harry seemed to deflate a little as he expelled a breath of relief, but he remained considerably stoic otherwise. "And it was really just a coincidence that you two were out here just now?"

"Yes," Hermione huffed. "Harry, why are you giving me the third degree all of a sudden?"

Harry's eyes widened behind his glasses. "I… well, I …"

"What?"

"Okay, don't hate me, but when I saw that the quill picked you and Malfoy… I had to see what happened, that's all."

"You watched?"

"Yeah."

Hermione blushed furiously. "Harry, neither of us knew who we were kissing. You can't be implying that Ron's hunch was right and I have been secretly snogging Malfoy all along."

"I know that," Harry said. "I'm sorry, Mione, but it did cross my mind. Later on when Ron was put with Daphne it barely lasted a second. And with you… you used up the whole ten seconds, and you both seemed comfortable with each other."

"We did?"

"Mione, you don't have a crush on Malfoy, do you?" Harry shuddered at the fact he even had to ask her that.

"No," Hermione replied immediately. "It's kind of complicated."

"Tell me," Harry said steadily.

Hermione knew she had to tell him everything. She was backed into a corner, so she told Harry about how the break with Ron came about in the first place, how she suggested that he see other people this month because he felt some kind of connection with Lavender that wasn't there with her. And in as few words as possible, she explained that she feels the same thing with Draco, and only Draco.

Harry listened patiently throughout. "So this thing with Malfoy is just when you have physical contact?"

"Yes. Just my rotten luck," Hermione sighed.

"You have to end this break with Ron," Harry said.

"Don't you think I've tried? I'm sorry, but even before the Malfoy thing ever happened I had a hunch that it wasn't going to make a difference. The other reason I kissed Malfoy for as long as I did was to prove to myself for certain that Ron and I could only ever be friends. But Ron's adamant about this. It's going to be hard enough to break his heart like that, so the least I can do is follow through on this break and tell him in September so it seems like I actually thought about it. I love Ron to pieces, Harry. I don't know what I'd do without either of you in my life, but I'm not in love with him."

Harry gave her a sad smile, "You're serious?"

"Yes."

"Then you can't give Ron anymore indication that suggests there's some weird thing going on with Malfoy. I know you can't help this connection thing you have with him but I s'pose what I'm saying is no more random hugging when he's around."

Hermione laughed. "Wait. You saw me kiss Malfoy yesterday. Ron doesn't know what happened, does he?"

"Oh Merlin, no," Harry said. "That would just destroy him. For all he knows I didn't see anything."

Hermione nodded. "Thanks."

"Okay," Harry nodded back. "Sorry about this, but I did start to think that maybe… you know."

"Yeah," Hermione yawned. "To be honest I'm surprised you were so understanding. The connection thing doesn't even make sense to me."

Harry put his hand on the door to his dorm. "I know what that connection feels like," he said simply. "It's how it feels with Ginny, for me."

Hermione's stomach dropped. She just gaped at her friend.

"You seriously don't have a crush on him?"

"No I don't," Hermione snapped. "Draco has about as much charm as a dead slug. If I had it my way, I'd feel this thing with Ron. Merlin knows my life would be easier that way."

Harry gave her a half-smile. "Life's never easy, Mione," he said.

"Unity. Unity. Hellooo?! UN-I-TY!"

"Doesn't he know yet?" Hannah chuckled at Ernie shouting the password that no longer existed at the door.

"I swear if you don't let me in, I'm going to break you down." There came the swish of a wand being drawn and Susan immediately leapt up from her seat and hurtled towards the door. Of course the door was pretty much indestructible when it came to magic, so Ernie resorted to threatening it with his fists.

"Oh no you don't," Susan muttered, yanking the door open just as Ernie swung his fist. The momentum carried his whole body forwards, and he tumbled in a heap on the floor.

Susan nudged him with her foot. "Hannah and Terry asked Dumbledore about removing the password yesterday. I thought you were there."

"Well I wasn't," Ernie snapped, walking to his dorm and slamming the door.

"Mack's being pretty moody today," Pansy commented. "Did someone hide a biting teacup in his trousers?"

"No, but that is a damn good idea," Blaise laughed across from her.

"Are you saying you do know the reason?" Pansy's gossip-radar was on full alert.

"Well Lavender is a good friend of Patil's," Blaise smirked.

"Oh, well at least she isn't a total airhead," Daphne chimed in. "Spill it, Blaise."

Blaise leant against the back of the sofa and stretched out his arms. "Maybe I'll consider it if you two lovely ladies give me something in return," he made a kissing noise and wiggled his eyebrows.

Pansy turned her nose up. "Ugh, as if I would when you've been tainted with Gryffindor germs. I can't even mess around with Draco anymore because of bloody Granger."

"I didn't think you wanted to be with him like that anymore," Daphne said.

"Well, you know, a girl's got to have options."

"So, what about you, Daph?" Blaise waggled his eyebrows again.

"Call me old-fashioned but I've no desire to be one of your random slags," Daphne said haughtily.

Blaise predictably failed to read between the lines of her comment. "Aren't you two girls picky?" he drawled.

"We deserve the best," Pansy said with a wry smile.

"Ouch, Pansy," Blaise clutched his chest in mock-hurt. "But I may as well tell you anyway. Apparently Patil and Mack had this big fight yesterday because they got beat by Draco and Granger."

Pansy and Daphne exchanged annoyed glances. "That's it?" Pansy asked.

"Well you've got to admit it was a bit unexpected. Considering the test was about respect and a couple was beaten by two people who probably never have had a shred of respect for the other."

"It was only one point difference, though," Daphne said.

"Still. Hufflepuffs are sensitive."

"Except that Justin prick," Pansy shuddered. The others mumbled in agreement. "Hey, where the heck is Draco, anyway?"

"No idea," Blaise said. "He got up early and then said he was going for a walk."

"I don't know why he can't just talk to us," Pansy said.

"Maybe he'd feel weak if he did," Daphne said. "That's how he was brought up, from what he's told me on the odd occasion. But let's not pressure him into anything. He knows we're all here for him just as much as we're there for each other."

"I love you to bits, Daph, but it does unsettle me when you go all diplomatic like that," Pansy said. "It's pretty noble and Gryffindor-ish."

Daphne shrugged. "That's what rebellion does to people. I know I used to take you all for granted, but last year I realised just how much I needed you all. Now if either of you dare make some snide remark about that I'll hex you into the middle next week."

Draco paced the floor of the Astronomy Tower impatiently, his feet carrying him but his mind was elsewhere. What the hell possessed him to actually agree to spill his deepest secrets to Hermione bloody Granger? The fact that they agreed to be civil? The fact that she's his partner for the Head Boy and Girl competition? The bloody connection they seemed to have? Whatever the reason, Draco made a mental note not to venture out to the common room again past two am. If the alternative of making considerably bad decisions was dying a slow and painful death from heat exhaustion in the dorm then so be it.

He was almost certain that he looked awful today. Despite his ease of drifting off to sleep last night, he had woken up very early, and had been pacing the Tower for a good hour or so. In fact, he was pretty shocked to see that the paths of his treads hadn't begun to wear away at the swirling pattern of the wooden floorboards.

The sound of excited chatter and laughter broke Draco's thoughts. He switched his path of pacing to towards the balcony instead of walking from side-to-side parallel to it. Looking down he could see the students headed for the Quidditch pitch whose fun had been postponed by the storm. Draco's eyes immediately picked out the retreating forms of Harry and Ron. He was surprised to see that Hermione wasn't with them. Well, that wasn't entirely true; Draco already knew that she hated Quidditch, but still he couldn't help but wonder…

Dainty footsteps rang out against the metal staircase as someone approached. By the time a voice spoke, Draco was staring intensely at Harry's hair. His bed-hair couldn't seriously be that bad, could it?

"Draco?"

Draco sighed. Hermione had turned up. Although every fibre in his being wanted nothing more than to barge past her and lock himself away in his dorm, he knew his sleep-deprived self had been the cause of this, and he wanted to salvage as much dignity as he could by at least following it through.

"Grang… Hermione," Draco cleared his throat. He internally groaned as he remembered that his two am-self had also taken to addressing her by her first name. What the hell was he thinking?

"You… you came," Draco pointed out dumbly, at a loss of what else to say.

"I said I would," was her response.

"Still, I didn't really expect you would," Draco shoved his fidgeting hands in his pockets and strode towards her.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked somewhat timidly.

Draco didn't answer.

"You've gone off the idea of talking to me," she said matter-of-factly. "That's okay. I don't want to push you or anything if you feel uncomfortable-"

For some reason, her belittling tone really set Draco on edge. She was just like everyone else. He knew that by revealing even the tiniest details to her about last year would be enough of a trigger for the Granger pity-party. Where he was the guest of honour.

"What's happened to you?" he demanded. "Where's that Granger from the first night we met up here? The one who refused to leave unless I talked?"

Hermione seemed affronted by his tone. "I-I'm sorry, but –"

"Don't apologise. Don't condescend me. And for the love of Merlin, don't pity me. Understand?" Draco hissed.

"I was only trying to hel…" Hermione's voice trailed away. This was bad. She remembered that first night in this tower clear as crystal. She had refused to leave; she hadn't cared if she was making Draco uncomfortable and she had asked him to talk on the basis that she would never pity him. What was happening now could only mean one thing: somewhere between then and now, something shifted the dynamic between them. But exactly what it was, Hermione didn't know. It could be a multitude of things.

She knew what she had to do. If she wanted him to talk (which she did, for his own gain as much as her own), she was going to have to become 'that Granger' again. Hermione wasn't entirely sure why she still wasn't 'that Granger', but if it meant easing Draco's nerves a little, then so be it.

Wait. So now I'm going to be snooty bossy-boots Granger to be nice to him? What has the world come to?

"Fine. I won't," she snapped exaggeratedly. "But I'm the only person here who's not a Slytherin who gives a damn about you, Malfoy. You asked me to come here today, and here I am. So you may as well get on with it. I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what happened last year."

Draco was startled by her sudden outburst. He surveyed her carefully. Her arms were crossed tightly across her chest, and her hip was cocked out to the side in a defiant stance. It all seemed a little forced but he was too angry to take notice of the twinkle of sadness and sincerity in Hermione's eyes.

"Why the hell would you give a damn about me?"

Hermione groaned loudly – forcibly – and put on her best bossy tone. "We're going over old ground, Malfoy. I told you nights ago. I bloody well know how it feels to be targeted over something I can't control. I can empathise with you."

It was then that Draco finally realised what seemed off about her. But why was she doing it? Because he let on that the nicey-nicey approach made him feel small and weak? It had to be. Something about the gesture comforted him, rather than patronised him. Maybe it was the in-direct approach of it. He honestly didn't know, but he found that he now felt a hell of a lot more comfortable around her than he did when she first arrived.

He let out a long breath and looked at her steadily. "Alright Granger, keep your owl's nest on. You can drop the act now."

"What bloody act? And how dare you! Looking at you now, I'd say your hair is in a worse state than mine!"

Her response just confirmed Draco's suspicions. Last night she failed to retaliate to the hair insult. He knew that she was just staging this whole argument, but he found himself wanting to have it out with her anyway, if only just for old times sake. He couldn't remember the last time they had a good argument.

"Okay, never insult the hair, Granger," he snarled in a way he hadn't done in a long time.

"Forget your bloody hair and quit stalling," Hermione snapped impatiently, tapping her foot on the floor for good measure. "If you think I'm not stubborn enough to wait here until you talk to me then you'd be wrong."

"You'll be waiting a bloody long time, then," Draco shot back.

"Why are you always so cold and distant? Maybe if you'd stop pushing people away then you would have had less people against you last year!" Hermione could see that her plan was working, so she took it up a notch.

Draco's whole demeanour darkened. "Don't talk like you bloody knew what went on Granger. You always act like you know everything about everyone, and it's infuriating!"

"Well then you'd better enlighten me, since I seem to be misjudging you," she challenged. "What is it? Were you the victim instead of the one alienating students and pushing them away? Because if so then I can't imagine why someone like you would stick around and put up with that."

She knew Draco's impulse would be to prove her wrong, and he didn't disappoint. "I was the bloody victim, Granger! All of the Slytherins were."

"Oh like you were with that Hippogriff?" she scoffed.

"No! For real. I'm not some petulant child anymore, Granger. Why would I purposefully want to rile up the entire school the term after my father was sent to Azkaban?! With You-Know-Who gone, everyone seemed to jump at the chance to mock me because of it. Now why would I make that worse for myself, hm?"

His breathing was hard and ragged. He still seemed to be stuck in his angry daze so Hermione allowed him a few seconds to adjust to what he'd just revealed. Slowly, the anger in his eyes turned to recognition, and he looked at Hermione part-horrified, part-relieved, and part-impressed eyes.

She smirked at him. "Now that wasn't so hard was it?"

"Huh?" Draco asked, still not fully adjusted to the situation.

"You just admitted more to me in the last minute than you did over twenty minutes in the common room last night. Apparently riling you up is the best way to get you to talk."

"You sneaky little –"

"Not so transparent now, am I?" she cocked a brow.

"I don't know whether to thank you or hex you," Draco said. "I actually feel better now. Like that argument broke the ice a bit."

"I guess you do feel comfortable around me," Hermione commented.

"Only if we're fighting though."

She shrugged. "It's what we do best. Now are you going to talk to me properly? Harry and Ron are going to get suspicious if I don't show my face at the Quidditch pitch soon."

"I don't know," Draco sighed. "It's just… I didn't like that Hermione who came up the stairs a few minutes ago. You actually seemed shy. You are never shy."

Hermione thought about this for a moment. "I suppose I see why that would have freaked you out a bit. "Okay," she said, gathering her wits in the wake of the fake argument. "I'll make you a deal. You tell me everything, and I won't give a damn about making you feel uncomfortable about it."

Draco smirked. He could see she was really trying, and the fact that she went through the effort to start that argument just to make him open up showed her sincerity in it all, didn't it? In a way, he felt like he wouldn't really care if she started being sympathetic. His gut told him that her tentativeness had been genuine concern, not meaningless and taunting pity at his expense. It wasn't a ploy to make him feel weak, but comforted. But he agreed to her deal anyway.

She sat down on the step that led up to the viewing platform, and patted the area next to her in a gesture to invite him to follow suit. Once again, Draco saw this as a sign of friendship than condescension. Wait – he shuddered – friendship? Compassion. That was the word he was looking for.

"Did you get dressed in the dark Granger?" he asked as he walked over and sat down.

She rolled her eyes, half-wondering if this was his way of testing her. "No. But I can't stand all of that faffing about in front of my wardrobe when there are more pressing matters to attend to. I know you're used to being in the company of well-dressed girls like Daphne and Pansy, but we are not friends, so why should you care how I dress?"

Draco relaxed even more at her words. 'We are not friends': perhaps Granger wasn't so bad after all. Perhaps.

"And while we're on the subject of dressing in the dark," Hermione surveyed Draco quickly. "Did you do that this morning?"

Draco scowled at her half-heartedly. "Well it was half past five when I woke up so it was half-dark I suppose. I still look better than you, though."

"Git," Hermione responded. The tower fell silent as she waited for him to take the initiative and begin the explanation. Draco looked down into her eyes: so impartial and open-minded. He still wasn't sure how she could bring herself to put their differences aside, and to help him of all reasons. In fact, in some ways he hated it. He felt like he now owed her something. And he really wasn't that much of a reliable person.

"Granger," he said.

"Yes?"

"I don't want to do this. I'd feel like I was in debt to you for listening to me or something."

Hermione bit her lip. You don't owe me anything! She wanted to shout. But that would un-do the whole purpose of the fake argument. She had to keep playing along as long as she could.

Seeing the way he was sat: arms stretched behind him with the flat of his palms against the floor, gave Hermione a stroke of inspiration. She wasn't sure her motives were a hundred per cent selfless, but it was her only chance of overcoming this hurdle.

She made sure to move slowly so as to capture Draco's attention. She summoned all of her courage and stretched out her hand to cover one of his. The reaction was instantaneous. Draco's eyes widened and he looked down at their joined hands, now practically searing with non-lethal heat. It didn't take him long to figure out why she did that.

"Do you… know?" he asked.

"Yes, and now I know you do too," Hermione observed. "You said you didn't want to owe me anything. Well, here's my proposition. You let me help you, and in return, you talk to me about… well, whatever this is," she gave Draco's hand a light squeeze, which just seemed to pulse a ball of energy up her arm.

"Take it or leave it, Malfoy," she said, straining to keep her voice even.

"Bloody fine," Draco dragged out his hand from beneath hers. Hermione smirked triumphantly. "I saw that," he narrowed his eyes.

"So, whatever happened to you was because your father was sent to Azkaban?" she prompted, acting on his earlier revelation.

Draco studied her expression. It was blank. Neutral. Non-Judgemental. Even when she had more than likely fought against his father at the Ministry, she was handling this without being biased. He couldn't help but take a second to admire that about her.

"Yes. I suppose I can't really blame them in a way. I'm a Death Eater's son, after all. Why shouldn't they treat me as if I was one of them?"

"Being related to someone doesn't automatically make you like them," Hermione said. "I mean, both of my parents are dentists and I've never really had any interest with teeth whatsoever."

The corner of Draco's mouth twitched upwards slightly. "I'm sure I would have found that comment useful in some way if I knew what a bloody dentist was."

"Dentists are like Healers but they specialise in teeth."

"Oh," Draco nodded vaguely. Apparently she hadn't helped in the slightest.

"You aren't a Death Eater, Draco," she changed tactics; the use of his given name was completely accidental, but he didn't seem to care. "You had no part in what happened at the Ministry, so any act of hate against you or anyone else from Slytherin was completely uncalled for."

"I know I'm not a Death Eater… but I," Draco clenched his eyes shut. "I was going to be."

"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked. She just about managed to conceal the concern in her voice and mask it with indifference.

"If You-Know-Who hadn't been destroyed, I would have been Marked last summer. My father… he told me that You-Know-Who had some kind of plan. Inside work at Hogwarts, and he chose me. I don't know if it was to punish my father or honour him, really."

The silence that followed was deafening. Draco half-expected Hermione to run off in disgust. But she stayed put beside him.

"You were the Chosen One," she spoke so softly that Draco thought she was talking more to herself than to him. He couldn't ignore what she said, though.

"Just like Potter was," he said stiffly.

Hermione suddenly remembered their conversation last night: how Draco's whole demeanour changed as soon as she likened his bed-hair to Harry's. "Don't ever compare me to Potter, Granger. Ever," he warned. And now she understood what that meant, why he reacted the way he did.

"You didn't want to do it," she said.

"What?"

"Become a Death Eater. You didn't want to do it… did you?"

"At first I did," Draco admitted. "My father brainwashed me with all this talk about it being a great honour to be hand-chosen by You-Know-Who. I suppose in some ways I wanted to one-up Potter. But when You-Know-Who was destroyed I realised just how relieved I was about not having to do it. But face it: in sixth year I was about as close as a Death Eater as anyone could get. I deserved what happened to me."

"No you didn't," Hermione said firmly. "I may not know an awful lot about how Voldemort's inner-circle worked, but I'm guessing that you would have been Marked last summer even if you had always been completely against the idea. You would have either been forced to go through with it or you and your family would have been killed."

That half-smirk returned again. "For someone who doesn't know an awful lot, your guesses are pretty accurate."

"Don't you see, though? You had no choice in the matter."

"Well nobody cared enough to stop and think about that, did they?" Draco snapped. "Nobody – including you – cared. You didn't even know I was going to be branded with the Dark Mark until now, so as far as everyone knew last year, I was simply the son of a Death Eater, and yet me and the other Slytherins were punished for it."

"I guess people, particularly Muggleborns, wanted to get revenge on people for the losses their families suffered because of Voldemort, and the Slytherins were the closest anyone in the school could come to Death Eaters."

"That makes me feel so much better," Draco spat.

"I'm not here to make you feel better," Hermione replied, keeping up with her end of the deal about acting like she didn't care. "Are you actually going to tell me what happened?"

"I was getting to it," Draco said. His voice was calmer than it had just been. He took a deep breath and proceeded to tell Hermione about his experiences of the last school year.

Hermione learned that whilst she may have already gathered the gist of what had happened, just from observations, she really didn't know all that much. She already knew that other houses banded together and effectively shunned anyone from Slytherin house after the fall of Voldemort. Draco, like everyone else on his side of the conflict, naturally fought back at first. Hermione just thought he'd eventually given up with retaliating and just gone about ignoring everyone, but she was very shocked to learn that his reasons for backing down were very different. In the heat of a standoff with Justin, Draco learned that Lucius had killed Justin's grandmother in the summer after Voldemort's return. Justin, looking for someone to blame, turned on Draco.

In all honesty, Hermione wasn't that emotionally invested in his tale at first. She didn't think anything was too extreme or out of the ordinary. But all of that changed when Draco told her that he actually began to feel guilty for his father's actions after that day. He spoke of how he'd purposefully avoid going to the library unless it was after hours; that he'd hide away and isolate himself in the Dungeons with the other Slytherins: his companions, unless he was obligated to be in lessons. Quidditch, one of his biggest passions in life, turned into something similar to a death sentence, where Bludgers would be sent his way in a consistent fashion much like Dobby's rogue Bludger had been with Harry in second year.

Even Draco's friendships became strained and fragile. Those people, like Justin, who were really invested with the rebellion, targeted the other sixth years just for being associated with Draco, but they held strong as a group. Daphne apparently created a rift by taking a week off school to go on holiday with her parents and sister, effectively running away from the conflict and her friends. When she returned she didn't think she'd done anything wrong, but she too became isolated as Pansy, Blaise and Theo started avoiding her, branding her a traitor. During this time, she and Draco almost bonded over their new isolated lifestyles. Really, the whole tale was quite heart breaking in Hermione's perspective. Draco's eyes were glazed over, speaking in a detached and mechanical way. Soon, something didn't quite add up, so Hermione stopped him.

"Draco," she said gently, touching his shoulder.

"Hm?"

"This all sounds completely awful, but can I ask: when you mentioned that everyone ganged up on Daphne for going on holiday and 'escaping', why didn't you escape too? Go home so you wouldn't have to face everyone. Only a handful of Slytherins showed up at school to begin with. No offence but you've never been the brave type," she laughed half-heartedly.

"Is this your way of admitting I do, in fact, have some kind of backbone, Granger?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes, knowing he was just fishing for a compliment. "Just answer the question," she sidestepped his comment.

"It crossed my mind every day. There was nothing more I wanted to do than go home. When the Slytherins started turning on each other, I knew that isolation at home would be preferable than here. But my mother wouldn't allow it?"

"Did she know-?"

"Oh yeah, I told her everything. She was naturally concerned for me, but apparently her priorities lie in the reputation of the family after my father was sent to Azkaban. She wanted me at school to study and earn good grades, which I suppose also explains why I showed my face here to do this competition."

"So that's why you're being so co-operative," Hermione said. "And here was me thinking you'd turned over a new leaf."

"You don't think my experiences last year changed me at all?" Draco's face was unreadable. Hermione had no idea how she should respond.

"I think," she said slowly. "That you are still a chauvinistic, arrogant pain in the arse, but you are bearable more frequently. And at least you make an effort to be somewhat pleasant around people, so yes, I think you've changed, if only a little. I think 'matured' is the word."

"Stop, you're making me blush," he muttered bitterly.

"Hey," Hermione scooted a little closer to him. "Is this whole thing with your mum the reason why you aren't visiting?"

"Yeah," Draco said.

"Are you two on bad terms? Do you resent her for making you stick out until the end of the year?" Hermione felt like she'd overstepped the line but the words were out of her mouth before she could process them.

"I suppose on some level I do," Draco sighed. "But I think more of the reason I avoid her is a matter of pride. The entire family reputation is resting on my shoulders and I don't want to disappoint her. In a way, I think I've already failed; it was pretty frosty between us in the weeks of summer leading up to me coming here."

"She'd bound to be hurting after Lucius went to Azkaban; she won't want to lose you too," Hermione said softly. "You should visit; let her know you're okay. Tell her how well you're doing in this competition."

"But I-."

Hermione held her hand up, silencing him. "She's your mum. She won't kill you if you voice your concerns about feeling too much pressure."

There came a long pause. "I don't think I can," Draco said quietly. "I've left it too long to suddenly bring that up."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, is everything about bloody pride to you?"

"So what if it is?"

"Well, don't take this the wrong way, but sitting here alone with a Muggleborn and talking so openly about personal stuff is a great deal of pride lost in itself. At least by a Malfoy's standards," she said. "It'll be good for you to go and see her."

"I suppose you have a point."

More silence.

"Do you feel better now that you've unloaded that baggage?" Hermione asked.

"As much as it worries me that I'm slowly turning into a weedy Hufflepuff, I have to admit that it did," Draco said. "I know we agreed to talk about other stuff too, but all of this has pretty much drained me."

"I knew you'd make a bloody excuse to get out of it," Hermione joked, elbowing him gently. "I'll let you off, just this once."

"How kind of you," Draco said dryly.

"Shut up," Hermione smiled. "I'd better get going then. The boredom of the Quidditch pitch awaits."

"Did you just use the words 'boredom' and 'Quidditch' in the same sentence?" Draco looked at her as if she'd just been caught skinning Mrs Norris or something.

"I did," Hermione grinned, knowing this would annoy him more.

Draco rolled his eyes. As she started to descend the stairs he spoke, stopping her in her tracks.

"Hermione."

"Yes?"

"I… well, I…" Draco stumbled over his words.

Hermione smiled at him. "You're welcome" she replied. And then she left Draco alone, with only his thoughts to keep him company.

The next day, as Draco lined up at the apparition point with all of the other candidates, he was in two minds about what he should do. He could bail and do his usual round-a-bout journey back to school, or he could actually go home. He knew that Hermione was staying in the castle today, and for some reason he felt like he'd be letting her down if he showed his face there this early. After all he'd told her yesterday, he felt like he now owed it to her to go and see his mother, if only for five minutes.

He snorted and rolled his eyes. What had the world come to? He was now going out of his way to massage Hermione Granger's over-inflated ego. He felt like he owed her something, and he hated it.

Well, you wouldn't have to owe her if you'd just got the damn talk over with about that stupid connection you have with her, his mind berated him.

Draco left the decision entirely in the hands of his subconscious when he reached the front of the queue to apparate. He took a deep breath, gripped his wand and spun on his heel.

He found himself standing on the gravel path in front of Malfoy Manor. He hadn't seen the place in over a week but already it felt too soon to be back. Too soon to face his mother. Ideally, Draco would have liked to get the competition over with and find some way to stay in the castle until the new term began. But then Hermione had to come along and ruin his plans, as usual. Damn her!

He tapped out the password combination on the towering front doors with his wand and let himself in. For some reason he felt like he was intruding in his own house. It was a little unsettling.

Only the sound of the grandfather clock in the drawing room greeted him. He let out a sigh of relief. Maybe he'd timed it lucky and his mother wasn't home. But then he heard footsteps, and the relieved smile was wiped from his face.

"Draco?" the voice was soft, broken.

Draco just stood rigidly, fixated to the spot. It felt like his muscles had seized up; that his tongue had been glued to the roof of his mouth.

And then his mother stood before him. Her eyes were tear-stained but she still managed to maintain that air of serenity and grace that Lucius had always likened to a swan. Just thinking of his father sent a chill up Draco's spine.

"Hello," Draco said flatly.

Narcissa walked over to him and embraced him tightly. "Why haven't you visited until now? I've been so worried." This greeting was quite unexpected; he couldn't remember the last time his mother had hugged him.

"Have you, really?" Draco snapped when she released him. He was suddenly so angry but he didn't know why.

"Of course. Do you realise how bad I felt having to keep you at that school when those vile children were putting you through hell?"

"Well you sure had a funny way of showing it," Draco replied.

"I did it to protect you," she said sharply.

"From what?!"

"From You-Know-Who, if he should ever rise again."

The anger drained from Draco's being with that comment. "What?"

"It was like my prayers had been answered when he was destroyed in the Ministry last summer. I never wanted you to follow in your father's footsteps. I thought if you were taking the brunt of anger from the students at Hogwarts about his Death Eater activities then… well, you'd be put off ever thinking about becoming one of them. I can see now that I went about it the wrong way."

"Well a word of warning would have been nice," Draco grunted, but he couldn't keep the joking tone from his voice. Narcissa reciprocated with a humorous twinkle in her eyes. "I thought you were punishing me, or too caught up with keeping the family reputation in high standings."

"All I ever wanted from you was to grow up into an honest hard-working man," Narcissa said. Then paused. "Well, with your inheritance I suppose you wouldn't need to work, but I thought I'd be teaching you the wrong lesson if I allowed you to run from your problems so easily. Your father's involvement with You-Know-Who always did prove a fragile topic in our marriage, especially after you were born. I couldn't stand the suspense when he'd go away on missions, wondering if he'd return alive. Wondering if he'd do something wrong and worrying if You-Know-Who would use you as a weapon or punishment."

Draco's eyes widened. He wasn't used to any member of his family being so open with him. First the hug and now this: what was going on?

"Well, thanks for telling me the truth," he said.

"Oh Draco, come here," Narcissa gave him no choice in the matter, and hugged him again. "I'm sorry that you got the wrong idea, but my 'mothers intuition' told me that it would benefit you more if you were oblivious to my motives for keeping you at school. Did it work?"

The arched eyebrow and leading question was clearly a Malfoy trait. His mother was fishing for a compliment, and he couldn't help but smirk at the shared characteristic. "Again with all the hugging? I feel like I'm back at Hogwarts with all of those Hufflepuffs."

Narcissa cringed slightly. "Yes, about that, I apologise if you felt like I was acting distant or cold towards you before you left. I felt guilty: I thought showering you with hugs and kisses would make it seem like I was perfectly content with keeping you at school."

Draco shrugged. It seemed like struggling to face one's demons ran in the family. "Well, better an aloof Malfoy than a weedy Powderpuff, right?"

Narcissa's stoic mask cracked as her lips twitched upwards. "Well come on, I'll tell the house-elf to make us some tea and you can tell me about this competition. Personally I don't really see any point in it. It seems like such a waste of the school holidays."

"It hasn't been that bad," Draco replied, his mouth twitching into a smile.

Narcissa arched a brow again. She wondered just what or whom he was thinking about to evoke such a reaction. It meant that someone or something at Hogwarts, other than his Slytherin friends, was putting a smile on his face again. And that's all he deserved after last year.

Hermione sat in one of the armchairs in the common room talking – or rather comforting – Padma about Ernie, along with Hannah, Susan and Mandy. It's not that she disliked Padma, but Hermione really wasn't good at giving relationship advice (hell, she couldn't even figure out her own circumstances!). Plus, she had been hoping to catch up on some reading, but that idea went down the drain after just half an hour.

It also didn't help that her and Draco's success in the task had been the trigger for their argument. She almost felt to blame for it, or at least, she felt the need to defend herself – say she only knew the answers because she'd revised the fact sheet – but nothing seemed to help.

"He's just over-reacting," Mandy said, rubbing Padma's shoulders. "It was just a complete fluke how well Mione and Malfoy did."

"Mandy," Susan berated. "Mione I'm sure she didn't mean anything bad by-."

"Oh no," Mandy blushed slightly. "I mean, I'm guessing it was just luck judging by the looks on their faces whenever they scored points."

The others looked at Hermione for confirmation. "Er, yeah completely. It's really nothing you two should fall out over. It was only one point difference."

"But Ernie's been avoiding me whenever I try and speak to him," Padma said.

"Do you want me to say something," Susan asked. "I know what a drama queen he can be at times."

"Who's a drama queen?" Ernie asked, emerging from his dorm right on cue. He surveyed the occupants of the living area of the room. "Oh, me."

"Yes," Susan narrowed her eyes. "Why are you making such a big deal out of this?"

"Hey! Padma's the one who went in a mood for half an hour after the task finished."

"Well, she's a Ravenclaw," Hannah was clearly grabbing at straws in the hope of coming up with some kind of excuse. "It's only natural that she become frustrated if she didn't do so well on a quiz."

"You mean it was nothing to do with me?" Ernie asked, the sheepish grin replacing his angry frown.

"No, you idiot," Padma said, though her voice lacked malice.

"I s'pose I did take it a bit far. Sorry Mione, but I just freaked out when-"

"When she and Malfoy beat lovey-dovey Padnie?" Susan finished for him.

The area fell silent and everyone's attention turned to a now blushing Susan.

"Padnie?" Padma asked on behalf of everyone.

"Yeah, yeah, never-had-a-boyfriend Susan is a soppy romantic and made an amalgamation of your names because you're a couple, ha, ha," she said sarcastically.

Everyone laughed, leaving Susan unsure whether people were laughing at her or with her.

"Okay, are you two going to kiss and make up now, or what?" Hannah said.

Ernie and Padma took her words very literally, and Hermione immediately averted her gaze, not very comfortable with the public PDA, which was pretty ironic considering the Spin the Quill game, but at least people were wearing blindfolds… except Harry…

That was the moment when Draco entered the room. His nose crinkled in disgust at the sight of 'Padnie' snogging. He refrained from commenting, though.

Hermione inadvertently caught his eye across the room. She wondered where he'd been all day. Part of her wondered if he'd actually gone home after their talk yesterday. She noticed Draco subtly flick his head towards the door, as if gesturing for her to follow him.

He then left the room whilst spouting profanities about having to rip his eyes out after seeing Ernie and Padma, and Hermione followed him out when a reasonable amount of minutes had passed do it didn't seem suspicious. She was making sure to be extra wary after she promised Harry to not arouse Ron's concerns about Draco anymore. She needn't have been so cautious; the boys were engrossed in a game of Wizard's Chess at the back of the room and the Slytherin girls seemed to be finding great entertainment in doing anything possible to put them off. Judging by the colour of Ron's ears, they were doing a pretty good job.

Hermione slid out of the room and jumped when Draco was waiting just outside the door.

"You took your time," he drawled.

"I didn't realise I was keeping you waiting," she replied.

"Malfoys are never kept waiting."

"There's a shocker," Hermione rolled her eyes. "So what did you want?"

The words had been right there on the tip of Draco's tongue. He wanted to get rid of the feeling that he was in-debt to her by thanking her properly for listening to him the day before. Wanted to begrudgingly admit that she'd been right about going home; if he hadn't gone then he'd still be under the impression that his mother had kept him here last year as a punishment.

It was all so well thought out. So Draco could never explain what possessed him to close the gap between them, cup Hermione's cheeks in his hands and kiss her.

To be continued…