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Draco Malfoy, was obviously losing his mind. He was now staring into the eyes of someone he never thought he would share the room with. Her eyes were filled with confusion but in the center of the hurricane of mixed emotions was the still calm. If he could only find himself in that calm, free from worries and peaceful.

He wondered if she knew that to him her eyes conveyed all things calming. He heard her breath hitch slowly and the sensation of her concentration turned to face the kitchen cabinets. He swore inwardly, only he would fall unnecessary in like with someone who would never feel the same.

He felt as though it was his destiny to always want the unattainable. His birthright to some of the same birthright should be enough to get him everything he desired. The times had changed and he knew it was for the better. He wished secretly he had been born of no importance, that everything his father taught him was just a dream. He wished that maybe he could have had a childhood of normalcy and where blood purity was never discussed over dinner.

He couldn't change where he was from and he was well aware of that. What he could change was who he was because of it. For the most part he had. He had promised his mother he would do his very best and he never broke a promise especially a promised made to his mother. He had bought a T.V, a microwave and most of his gardening tools were muggle made. But most of the women he attracted were more interested in the Malfoy economy then his own desire to be anything but a Malfoy.

He knew that regrets were not worth having but he regretted not being a good person in his younger years. He knew the victim of those years was sitting beside him in her cottage by the lake. Though those years had been long gone, his generation wore the imprint of a decade gone on their faces, and their bodies, some literal and some figurative. Granger had both. Her left leg had been terribly damaged in the fight at Hogwarts it had kept her unwillingly in St. Mungo's for almost four weeks. A backfired spell had shot clear through. Draco looked at the scar that extended from the tip of her short bath robe to mid calf. For two years after that she had a cane, and a loving nickname of 'gimpy.' She had suffered, Potter had suffered, Pansy had her fair share and even Weasley.

Their suffering to him felt like it was more noble then his and his was still very much apart of his everyday life. So, was Granger's. At least everyone knew what his baggage was. A sick psychopathic father, who blood lusts after those who don't believe in blood purity and a broken mother who met her untimely death. It was humorous to Draco, well not funny but it was stupid how his father could live through ten plus years in Azkaban, simply rotting and how one winter could wither his mother to practically dust. Why in her first few, of surely many years of peace should she be taken? Did she have to pay for her husbands faults? It was iniquitous, unequal and certainly most unfair.

Granger cleared her throat softly and picked up the Profit reading another story on the now very publicized appeals. Draco wanted to know what her baggage was. He wondered if he were to befriend her more she would finally let him in. He felt himself shake his head. Over ten years she had not told anyone, or at least no one had ever let on that she had.

He thought to Potter, who only three Saturday nights ago had nodded when she had informed him of her absence. Maybe he knew. If he did he didn't and wouldn't ever inform anyone that he did. He was a safe and that is why Draco had chose him to be his confidant truly, Potter knew more then Blaise and Pansy. Potter was a safe. Even from his hot headed spouse. Draco lifted himself from the seat and stretched. Granger had continued reading. He paced around the island to the coffee pot and took it out of it's seat and poured himself and Granger more coffee. She smiled in thanks and became solid faced reading more rubbish about the Ministry.

Draco found himself back in his seat, she made a quick movement to the back of the paper and pulled out the market place section and handed it to him without looking at him. He took it and she returned to her article. He liked that she had known exactly what he wanted. Not right now, but at least she knew what part of the paper he liked. He wanted to talk to her. He wanted her to just give it up and spill her guts. He knew that was mere shadow of dream.

He sipped his coffee and skimmed over Friday's closing numbers. He tried so hard to focus but he wanted to talk to her. The silence between them was comfortable but he felt too comfortable, it made him uneasy. He liked being on his toes it meant he had to be completely focused at the task at hand. Not deep in thought, like he was now. Immediate attention was how he got through work, and how gardening got him through the admittedly lonely hours at home.

Home. Why hadn't he gone home? He was still sitting there, when he could have gone home no questions asked. Yet he lingered in companionable silence. He was thinking but yet he experienced some sort of bodily peace. It troubled him. How could his mind be in such upheaval and yet his body to at peace to move towards the fireplace? He wondered if he should continue to sit there until she pushed him out? He placed the paper down on the table and looked at her closely, her hair was a tangled mess, but she carried it well. The black silk house coat made it look like she wore nothing. But upon further exploration a hint of a gray short and blue V-neck, T-shirt. She shifted her weight in her seat.

He looked at her head again and she was facing him with her head gently leaned on her hand. Looking at him, no emotion. Just looking at him subtly, when his eyes met hers the heat in his head rose. The pounding in his head quickened and painfully consumed his head. Merlin, she would be the death of him.

Hermione could feel his eyes upon her body, several times since he woke. Now, as she pretended to read the profit he seemed almost fixated. Why would Malfoy be fixated by her? It was something she honestly had no answer to. She wondered what he was thinking, obviously what she was wearing seemed to intrigue him but the overall experience of his gaze was starting to perturb her. She also wondered why he was still here? Not that she wanted him to go.

The cottage was lonely and right now she didn't want to be alone. Which was a rare occurrence but an occurrence nonetheless. She wanted to be with someone this morning. She had waited nearly an hour before throwing a pillow at him on the couch and another half an hour before he woke up. She smiled at the paper. She enjoyed Draco Malfoy's company. She would admit it but only when he was quiet and not when he was staring at her like a typical man. Was he attracted to her? She knew she wasn't beautiful but she wasn't plain either.

Maybe he was merely staring at the scar on her leg. No, his stare was higher shifting from her head to her waist and in between. His eyes shifted back downwards. She lifted her arm on to the table subtly and leant her head in her hand facing him. He watched as he realized he was caught, but he did not break the silence.

He merely stared into her eyes. His eyes though cold in color were filled with inner heat and battle. She knew he was fighting what ever was going on. She watched him lift hand but set it back on his leg defeatedly. He pursed his lips in frustration and she looked back at his hand. She watched in amazement that he lifted it again. This time he brought to her cheek, his hand was so warm, covering from the chin to her cheek bone. She felt herself emit a small smile. She closed her eyes, he felt his forehead touch her own. She opened her eyes and met his gray eyes.

The intensity of the stare made her feel like they were the only two in the world. The only two who mattered. Even though she was staring into a man's eyes that merely ten years ago he would hide this raw intensity behind his superiority complex. It felt good to stare and see somewhat of herself looking back.

He had been broken and he was fixing his way through each day. She was broken on the inside too but she was struggling to keep trying to fix the mess she called her life. Doomed from the beginning. Maybe that's what made the stare so intense that normally this wouldn't happen, if the world hadn't changed like it had. Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger would not be literally seeing eye to eye. She didn't give a damn that it was cliché it felt right, or right enough. She moved her hand to his face. His cheek was hot, she extended her hand into just the brim of his hair. Her hand fit perfectly. It was a silly thought but to her it did. Did it mean that perhaps the man who for sometime occupied the eviler thought processes of her mind had now become the one who would occupy her thoughts of intimacy.

"Hermione?" Blaise's voice called out from the living room. Draco shot up from his place and almost ran around the counter. Blaise came in with a smile on his face. "There you are, wait Draco what are you doing here?"

"I just took him home after you left. It was all I could think to do, Pansy and Ron were...busy." Hermione said awkwardly. Blaise looked Malfoy not in a friendly way, Hermione looked between them raising her eyebrow.

"You feeling better mate?" Blaise asked in a happier tone. Blaise walked up to Draco and slapped him on the back. "Hermione, we should get going." Blaise said to her. Hermione nodded and excused herself to get dressed. Before she even stepped up the stairs an argument broke out in the kitchen. She steadied herself on the bottom stair and listened.

"Why are you still here, Draco?" Hermione heard Blaise asked snidely.

"I thought I would have breakfast with Granger, Blaise." Malfoy bit back. Hermione wondered why they were being so uncivil towards each other.

"Look, you are my best mate but Hermione is very special to me. I know setting her off was an accident but you infuriate her." Blaise explained.

"You think I am going to set of an attack. I was the one who took to the hospital." Malfoy yelled at him.

"You set her off, what if next time she dies?" Blaise yelled back. "You don't give a damn, do you? It's just Draco against the world. Well, guess what you can take you pity party somewhere else. Stay away from, Hermione." Hermione heard steps towards the front of the house, she could her more shouting but decided to ascend the stairs. There were muffled voices downstairs.

After she dressed she started walking down the stairs until she heard the sound of the Floo. She rushed into the living room, Blaise stood looking out onto lake. She walked up from behind him and hugged him from behind. He turned in her arms and held her to his chest. Hermione looked up to him, he was deep in thought.

"Where's Malfoy?" She played dumb.

"I don't want you near him. He causes you distress." Blaise explained cautiously.

"He wasn't distressing me this morning." Hermione stated still in his embrace.

"Yes, well. Let's just chalk this one up as Blaise is incredibly tired from work, jealous that another man slept in your house and angry that it was his best friend." Blaise admitted with his head down.

"Blaise, come on." Hermione said almost annoyed.

"Please, Hermione." Blaise looked into her eyes lovingly.

"Blaise I told. It not you--"

"I know it's you." Blaise said letting her go. "I don't feel like brunch today, I am going home." Hermione watched as Blaise picked up the Floo powder and disappeared into the fireplace. Hermione slumped onto her couch and folded her arms in place. She was stuck at home, alone. She picked up a book from the end table and began to read.

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