-This chapter took forever because I wasn't sure how to connect everything...but I think it works. Hope you agree! -

What in the bloody hell was wrong with that woman? First she gets into a screaming match (although most of the screaming was by her) with her apparently close friend, then she drops the matter completely? And what was with Hermione making him into a sodding muggle? Something was going on with his flatmate that Potter seemed to understand on a deeper level. But not even the great "savior of our time" could help. She wouldn't discuss it, whatever it was, with anyone, but it was obviously still destroying her. Draco shook his head, maybe it hadn't been a good idea to move in with her, this witch had a roller coaster of emotions. And yet...every once in a while she showed the old Hermione. Hell, Draco sighed, the screaming Hermione was better then the morose woman hiding in her room.

But why was she even like this? Draco had spent most of his life judging, reading, and playing with peoples emotions. He was very good at it. But Hermione left him at a dead end every time. He hoped to God that not all witches, or mere women for that matter, were like this. Draco had enough trouble with his miserable job, over-bearing mother, and a ministry that would never, it seemed, stop watching him with suspicion.

Draco finally shook himself from his trance, and slowly left the carpeted common room floor where Hermione had just left him. He walked into the kitchen and saw the letter from his mother lying in the center of the bare table. He left it there, sitting down to ponder his most present issue. His flatmate.

Hermione said from the beginning that she wanted a friend in this apartment, someone she could relate to as a magical person. But that was only half the truth, Draco realized, she wanted someone who still bore the scars from the Second War, someone who was on the wrong side of the media's respect, and apparently, someone who also felt alone. And like it or not, Draco fit all of those categories. And he had not been fulfilling his request to help her. But that was also her fault, at times he felt things towards her that confused the hell out of him. It had been a very long time, Hell, maybe the first time, someone had lied to protect him. Hermione hadn't judged him for renting a room in muggle London, had helped him get a new wardrobe, and on most nights, had been trying to grow their apparent friendship. But that was where they both stumbled, Draco Malfoy had never needed friends before, never needed someone to look out for him before. This was all so new to him, and Draco was getting the suspicion that she was expecting something more out of him. As if she were expecting an automatic and heartfelt thank you for all her good deeds. But Draco Malfoy did not do such things. Of course, one day in the future he would know how to do this, but it wasn't going to be soon.
Sighing Draco pushed back the chair and stood, glaring at his mother's letter. Then he turned and walked down the hallway towards their rooms. What was it that mother had told him before? Witches always want a wizard who can comfort and solve problems, but also someone who listens...Draco could try to do that.

Sooner then he expected Draco stood before her door, and with a hesitant knock he entered. As always her room was dark and so unlike the rest of the apartment, but Draco stared only at the bed where Granger sat, deep in thought.

He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off.

"I had a dream last night...Well, a nightmare, really...of the war. And you were there. We were in Malfoy Manor, remember?"

Draco nodded slowly, standing awkwardly next to her unmade bed.

"Your vicious Aunt kept trying to decide if we were us, 'cause Harry looked all different. And you...you kept avoiding her question. You didn't turn us in."

Draco swallowed, "Not directly."

Hermione finally glanced at him, smiling sadly, "But still, your uncertainty probably saved our lives..."

Draco cut her off this time, his wand hand clenching unconsciously,"No, don't...don't say that. I was just being a bloody coward. I wasn't trying to help you guys. I don't know what I was doing."

"Draco you were seventeen, of course you were a coward. I was a coward. You have no idea how scary that was...when your Aunt, when she..." Hermione closed her eyes and quieted. Draco stared at her, something in his brain warned him that this was the moment to do the whole comforting shit, but she cut off his thought process again, "Sometimes, sometimes it feels like yesterday. The war. The fear. It still isn't all buried away. I don't know if it ever will be..."

Draco took a breath, "Granger, It is over. It is."

Hermione glanced at him suddenly, "Then why do you still act as if you are a Death Eater on trial?"

Draco took a step back, shocked by her sudden change in attitude.

"Seriously Draco, the War isn't over. Every time I look at you I see it in your eyes, all the guilt and the fear. Why? What are you still ashamed of?"

Draco swallowed, staring at her unblinking gaze. How was he supposed to answer that?

"Jesus, Draco..." Hermione got up suddenly, the bed between them, and she stared at him with wild eyes, "What is wrong with you?"

Finally Draco found his voice, "What does that mean, Granger?"

She rolled her eyes, and walked around the bed, throwing her hands up in the air, "You!"

He stared at her, and Hermione shook her head slowly, then her demeanor softened, "Who are you?"

Draco took a step back, looking at her questioningly.

Hermione asked it again, "Who are you?"

"I..I'm Draco. Draco Malfoy..."

She took a step towards him, a glint in her eye. Her teeth glinted as she looked up at him, "Oh, really?"

He stared at her, "...Yes."

"Then act like it!"

She glared at him, then stormed out of the room with a huff.

Draco stood next to her unmade bed, completely in shock. What was that all about? He stared at the open doorway, his fist clenching, then stormed after her. If she wanted to fight with him too, then so be it.

"Hey, Granger, get back here! What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?"

He turned into the kitchen to find Hermione facing away from him.

"You know what it means!" She shot back, her whole body rigid.

He stared at her, feeling the anger boil up through his body, his wand hand clenching in preparation. Only a small part of his brain made him forget that his wand was in his back pocket, and that he could have easily blasted her through the room.

"No I don't! You don't make any sense, and that's why!"

Finally she turned around, her words slinging at him like a stunning charm to the chest, "Where is the boy I punched in third grade? The snooty pure-blood brat that called me a mudblood? Huh? What happened to him?"

Draco practically ran forward, glaring at the small witch before him, daring her to speak again. How dare she question him? The air in the kitchen sizzled as they stared each other down.

"Why?", He spat the word out slowly.

"Because that was Draco Malfoy."

He shook his head,"The bratty snob? You want him?"

Hermione glared up at him, her chin thrust out, "Yes, yes I do. Because at least he would fight for what he wanted. At least that Draco would make demands and bully his way into getting what he wanted. He wouldn't be content with a dead end job, hiding from the Prophet or any of that shit...So why do you?"

Draco turned away, he was close to losing it now, "That is not your concern."

Hermione gave a hollow laugh, "Oh, so you don't deny it?"

"Granger, stop now. Before I really lose it."

"Go for it. Lets awaken that Dragon."

Draco let out a breath.

"Ferret."

That did it. Draco turned and grabbed Hermione by the shoulders, smirking at the flicker of fear in her eyes, "How dare you judge me! You who ran away for a year after a failed marriage! If I am hiding from the world then guess what, so are you. At least you don't have to walk around with the evidence of your failures on your bare skin! 'Cause that never goes away! People will always look at me like I am something to fear! I can't move forward because no one lets me! I am what society sees me as!"

He shook her when she didn't respond, and when he met her eye Draco wished he hadn't.

"Draco," Hermione whispered after a moment, "It's not your fault."

He stared at her, and pushed her away, letting Hermione stumble back into the kitchen wall. But she only stepped forward, and he quickly retreated, what kind of mind game was she playing with him? Was she crying?

"Draco you were innocent. You did nothing wrong."

"It's not your fault, Draco!"

He flung his hands up but Hermione didn't pause, she practically ran at him. Draco stared at the crazy witch before him, feeling as if he were watching this happen from another perspective. He watched her grab his hands and steady them with her own. Hermione stood inches before him, blocking him between herself and the table, and she was crying.

They were inches apart, both breathing rapidly, faces tinged with the pink flush of anger and confusion. She clenched his wrists in her hands, and stared at his fleeting grey eyes, as Draco tried to think back as to how they ended up here.

Taking a slow breath Hermione slowly lowered their combined hands, and she realesed his from her own sweaty palms. They fell to his side and he watched her, feeling like a puppet doll who had no control over his own movements. Draco realized he was completly at her mercy.

Then, in slow motion, she closed the space between them and Draco felt her body join his. Her arms wrapped around his torso, and her head pressed against his chest. He stared down at his flatmate as she clung to him, and without any other thought, his arms came around and encircled her.

"I..I don't want to be alone anymore, Draco." Her whisper clung to his shirt, and Draco closed his eyes.

Swallowing he relpied in the same tone, saying it for her as well as for himself.

"Me neither."