AN: Well...um...this is awkward. I have really no excuse for my prolonged absence, other than work has been an absolute bitch lately. Hopefully you all can forgive me and review? Or at least read this, I call it a peace offering of sorts.

January 11th, 1999

"You're awake." Draco whispered quietly, his forehead resting against the cold bars of her cell. He hadn't moved all night, eyes watching her sleep throughout the night after she had finished her meal. Hermione jumped, the iron around her wrists sliding across the floor as she wrapped her arms around herself to try and preserve some warmth.

"Have you been there long?"

"All night."

"Afraid I was going to escape?" She sneered nastily, her face contorted in disgust. Draco sighed and shook his head, one finger running through the cold dust on the floor by his feet. His knees were tucked high into his chest, his cheek resting on his left kneecap. All in all he reminded Hermione of a boy much younger than himself, and the image of a Death Eater was the furthest thing from her mind that she could even attempt to conjure up.

"No." Draco answered sullenly. "I just wanted to see you."

"See how I look locked up and filthy, my dignity cast to the side as my best friends scream for me from the other side of this wall?" Hermione tossed her head towards the south wall, where Draco knew Potter and Weasley were being held. Her words cut him much deeper than he thought they would, and he could barely hold back the grimace that was threatening to surface.

"Yes." He mustered all the malice he could and then rose to his feet suddenly, kicking a plate under the bars to her. "And to bring you table scraps." He turned on his heel and fled the dungeon, willing his feet to carry him faster as the soft sniffles of Hermione's tears began to echo in his ears. He covered them with his hands, kicking open the door that would lead into the front hall of the Manor. He burst out, panting heavily with choked breaths, his throat tight with what he knew would soon become tears of his own. Draco put both hands on the wall in front of himself, sucking in greedy breaths to try and calm his emotions.

12:20pm, January 12th, 1999

"Why are you feeding me?" Hermione asked as she slid the now empty plate close to where Draco was sitting on the other side of the bars, his pale hand reaching underneath the metal apparatus to return the porcelain to his side.

"It's common courtesy to feed one's pets, Granger."

"Pet?" She scoffed and grabbed the bars by his face, shaking them angrily. "I'm not your damn pet!"

"You're the one behind the bars, Granger."

"Am I?" Hermione snapped. "Because from where I'm sitting you look imprisoned as well." She said haughtily, folding her arms over her chest with a sharp huff of air. Draco let the smile spread across his face slowly. "Yes, smile, you sadistic bastard. I hope you rot in whatever hell you die."

"That's not nice to say to the person who brings you food."

"If you call this food. Prepared by house elves, consumed by Death Eaters, lovingly given to a Mudblood." She rolled her eyes as the sarcasm dripped from her lips. Draco reached through the bars, gripping her shirt in fist and using it to pull her to him until she was pressed against the border to the cell, her face smashed against the cold metal.

"Don't you dare say that." Draco hissed, shaking her furiously. Hermione turned her head as best she could, glaring at him with hot eyes. "Don't you ever dare to say that in front of me again."

"What, offended that I would have the guts to call you a Death Eater to your face?" She ground the words out as her face was pulled even tighter against the bars.

"You will never say Mudblood in front of me again." He demanded in a whisper, face tight and set with an aged tension that Hermione had never noticed until now.

"You've changed." She said quietly after nearly two minutes of silence. Her face was cold, and her teeth had just started chattering, but she held his gaze for as long as he would hold hers. Finally he let go of her and rose to his feet, taking the plate and leaving in a hushed hurry.

6:38pm, January 12th, 1999

Hermione knew he was late when she heard the dungeon doors opening. He had been coming to see her for the past couple of days, and he was always on time for their meetings. This morning she had seen the deadness in his eyes, and she knew he no longer understood nor took in the Death Eater's agenda.

"Malfoy." Hermione greeted him civilly. Draco nodded, his eyes downcast. From what little of them she could see, Hermione knew he had been crying again.

"They're going to attack Hogwarts."

"What?" Hermione felt as if she had been crushed beneath a wave of stones. Draco nodded and entered her cell, her shackles falling to the floor as was customary for their visits. He sat beside her on the floor, his legs sticking straight out in comparison to hers, which were drawn up to her chin.

"They just released the plans tonight. That's why…why I'm late." Draco cleared his throat, his chin wavering unsteadily. "I can't do this anymore."

"You don't have to." Hermione said carefully, putting a gentle hand on his arm. He flinched at first and then relaxed into her touch. His skin was surprisingly warm for someone so pale, as if he had fire running in his veins. "The Order could protect you."

"The Order would turn me in without a second thought."

"If I vouched for you, if I told them that you kept me alive and well, and looked after me…they would help."

"Potter would need more than that." Draco sighed and withdrew his arm from underneath her hand. They sat in silence for a few minutes and finally Hermione spoke.

"When is the attack?"

"Next week." Draco bit his lip tightly, and when he released it Hermione could see the indentations where his teeth had been clamped over the flesh. In this light, in the too dim and musty dungeon, Hermione swore he was almost ethereal. He had always been a good looking boy, with sharp, well-bred bone structure that many people would kill for. She had, once or twice during their school days, wondered if such an attractive person could really be evil. "You're staring, Granger."

"Sorry." She turned her head away and felt the blush forming on her cheeks. She swore inwardly and folded her arms in her lap.

7:02am, January 13th, 1999

Draco stepped into the cell quietly as Hermione slept on the stone floor, curled tightly into herself as a way to preserve warmth. He sat beside her, trying not to make any noise that would wake her up. He wanted to just watch her, make sure she was sleeping well, or as well as anyone could in a place this cold. He pulled his wand from his robes and cast a simple Warming Charm on the poor girl, relief flooding his chest as she sighed and uncurled from the fetal position. His hand stowed his wand, and then drifted on its own over to her, his palm lightly landing on her mane of tangled hair. Her eyes flew open, suddenly aware that someone else was with her.

"Malfoy." She scrambled back, away from him, as her heart thudded loudly in her ears. "Why were you touching me?"

"I didn't mean…you just looked very peaceful." He said dully, his eyes averting to the floor. Hermione reached up to touch the same spot of hair that he had, almost as if to check he didn't drop anything in it. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright." She whispered, shivering again as it got suddenly cold. She narrowed her eyes at him in a question.

"I may have cast a warming spell." He mumbled, feeling her accusing gaze.

"Well." Hermione opened and closed her mouth, unable to come up with anything clever. "Thank you." His head lifted at her words, almost hopefully. His eyes were bright, unlike any other time she had seen them. "I guess you aren't all bad on the inside then."

"I'm trying not to be." He pointed at her shackles and they fell from her wrists. "Are you still cold?"

"A bit." She answered honestly, swallowing her shock when he removed his thick cloak and handed it to her. She buried herself within it, his scent assaulting her nostrils as warmth began spreading around her.

"Better?"

"Much." They again fell into silence, and this time Hermione discovered that it was a comfortable silence that existed between them. She was, however, the first to break it again. "Malfoy, will you let me go?"

"I don't know." He sighed and rested his chin on a kneecap, looking at her carefully. "I want to, but they would know it was me. They would murder Mother." At this announcement he turned his head away, ashamed at the tears that flooded his vision.

"I understand." Hermione replied weakly, torn between being angry at him and feeling an ocean of pity that she had never experienced before.

"I will keep you alive." He said definitively. "I won't let them kill you. I swear."

"Good." She let out a dry bark of laughter. "I'd rather stay alive if I could." They shared a small smile, and Draco thought to himself that when she smiled, she was actually fairly pretty.

"I have to go to breakfast, but I'll bring you food when I'm done." Draco rose to leave and Hermione made to undo the cloak from her shoulders, but he stopped her with a hand on hers. "Keep it for now. I'm the only one who comes down here. No one will know."

Hermione smiled again, this time genuinely, and pulled the cloak tight around her body once more as Draco left the dungeons, occasionally glancing over his shoulder at her.

12:51pm, January 13th, 1999

"Granger." Draco called her awake as he opened the cell. She lifted her head from the cloak he had given her earlier, her eyes widening at the plate of food he brought with him. "I stole it from the house elves before they could take it in to lunch. I thought, if it's ok with you, we could have lunch together."

"Well, the dining arrangements aren't the best, but I suppose it'll have to do." Hermione surprised herself by joking, but they both smiled as Draco set the plate between them. He let her pick which bits she wanted to have before he began eating, every now and then their eyes meeting as they ate in relative silence.

"I was tasked with getting the Death Eaters into Hogwarts." Draco said suddenly. Hermione's hand froze as she lifted a slice of apple to her lips. He kept his gaze trained on the now empty plate. "I had to fix a Vanishing Cabinet so they could be transported into the castle."

"In Sixth Year?" Hermione frowned. "That was you?"

"Yes." Draco swallowed thickly and blinked against tears. He had spent more time crying in the last few days than he had ever before in his life. "It's my fault he's dead."

"No, Snape killed him, you-"

"Because I couldn't." Draco interrupted fiercely. "I couldn't kill him. I was stupid, I was so stupid, but the Dark Lord had threatened my mother, and I was supposed to kill him. I knew it, I knew the spell, and all I had to do was say it. But I couldn't. I froze." He inhaled sharply. "He was talking me out of it. I wasn't going to do it, there was no way I could."

"So Snape…" Hermione let her mind fill in the blanks and she leaned back against the stone walls. Draco nodded and buried his face in his hands, shaking bodily. She stared at him, waiting for something to happen, but nothing did. He stayed seated, with his head in his hands, trembling. Hermione bit her lip and crawled across the floor, carefully sitting beside him and draping some of the cloak over his shoulders. A tentative arm went over his shoulders as well, and his head flew up from his hands. She withdrew, unsure.

"What are you doing?" A beat of quietness passed as she gathered the confidence she needed to speak of her actions.

"Comforting you."

AN: Please be kind and leave a review, and if you want to leave one just to tell me that you're mad at me for not updating sooner, I'll take those too.