A/N- So the story format has reverted back to normal (third person, Hermione POV). Also (if you haven't already noticed), occurrences in the story deviate from the course of J.K. Rowling's so please keep that in mind as you read. Thank you for reading the story as always! You know the routine: relax, develop an alternative energy source, read, REVIEW, and enjoy.

Hermione awoke the morning after her incident with Greengrass and Pansy blushing furiously. Her confrontation with the Slytherins was enough to get her heart pumping, but what occurred afterwards set her heart racing. Had it really happened? Did Malfoy really comfort her in a public corridor? Did Malfoy seriously give himself sole permission to make her cry?

Hermione shook her head violently. No. Of course none of that happened. Malfoy would never do anything of the sort, except perhaps the last. He certainly would do that. But he didn't. Because none of the things she "remembered" had actually taken place! But why would she even dream about something like that happening…

She violently sat up in bed and threw her head into her hands and began to shake all over. What was going on? This was serious. Malfoy wasn't just any boy. He wasn't just any Slytherin. He was a Death Eater. A Death Eater who had hated her friends and she even before he became a Death Eater.

Hermione lifted her head and took a slow, deep breath. She was a smart girl. She knew what the dream meant. What it meant about how she truly felt about Malfoy. She'd always known. She'd just chosen to ignore it.

Her feelings weren't true. She didn't love Draco Malfoy. Hell, she didn't even like the dimwit. She was just…attracted to him. Yes, attracted was the word.

She was a romantic girl. Falling for the hot, misunderstood, bad boy was something every teenage girl has done. Falling for the hot, misunderstood, bad boy who was also a sworn enemy just made everything ten times hotter. It's something every girl has fantasized about.

But that's all it was: a fantasy. Nothing sincere about it. But just being "attracted" to him was enough to annoy the hell out of her.

She didn't love how he furtively helped her out when she was falling behind on work. She didn't love how (in his own coarse manner) had offered her words of advice when she'd been feeling overwhelmed. She didn't love how he'd consistently shown up whenever she needed someone.

She especially didn't love how his silky, blonde hair was gracefully swept just above his brow. She didn't love how is body was pure, lean muscle. She didn't love how sensual his voice was. And she especially didn't love those glittering blue-grey eyes that seemed to stare directly into her heart.

Nope, she hated all of that. Because this intense feeling she felt couldn't be anything other than hate…right…wrong…fuck.

-Hey, how about during this page break, you review! Good idea, right?-

"Wow, you look like a zombie, Hermione," Ron said, mouth full of eggs, as Hermione entered the Great Hall for breakfast.

"Gee, thanks, Ronald," she responded dismissively.

Hermione saw Ginny harshly elbow her brother in the side, then turn to her and say with concern, "What he means to say is that it looks as if something were bothering you."

"Oi, I'd say, with Ron-Ron around, anyone would be bothered," Fred Weasley chimed in leaning in across Seamus.

"He's got a point, mate" George agreed, winking at his flushed younger brother.

"Will you two pipe down! You're ruining Won-Won's breakfast time," Padma said, running her fingers soothingly through Ron's hair.

"Ma'am, we two gentlemen shall immediately suppress our pipes," Fred said, saluting Padma.

Hermione, after having her share of laughter, turned to look at Harry who had been awfully quiet since she'd arrived. She felt her chest swell with pride when she saw that he was intently studying his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook and taking notes. She leaned over closer to see which section he was reading and gasped upon closer examination of the book.

"Harry! That book is filled with writing and doodles! Why haven't you asked Professor Snape for a replacement!" she exclaimed.

"Maybe I don't want a replacement, Hermione," he mumbled, still intently reading.

"Harry Potter, you do not have to put up with this mess of a book," she announced while snatching the book away from him, "Just because you lived under the stairs of your Aunt and…"

Her words trailed off after she received a closer look of the writings in the book.

"Harry, this book is filled with dangerous spells. Some of them I'm almost positive aren't legal. Who had this book before you?" She asked fiercely.

"It doesn't say."

"Don't be silly, of course it says. Look. It says right here. It belonged to the Half-Blood…Prince…"

"I told you."

"'The Half-Blood Prince'…I wonder what it means…" Hermione trailed off.

"Truthfully, I don't care. So may I have my schoolbook back, please?"

"Harry, you really must hand this in. It's dangerous. Look here at Sectumsepra. That is an incredibly dangerous spell, Harry. It's nearly as bad as the killing curse, only this curse is defendable."

"Which means it truly isn't that horrible. Now, if you'll excuse me," Harry said, grabbing his textbook and resuming his previous activity.

-BREAK! REVIEW! CONTINUE!-

Weeks passed quietly for Hermione as the students made their way towards the winter holidays. She was disappointed to hear that her father had a dentistry convention in Switzerland during her break, and her mother would be visiting her gravely ill great-aunt in Scotland (in a community where no one under the age of eighteen was allowed to enter). Hermione, then, would be spending her break with her favorite red head family.

On the night before the Weasleys, Harry, and she were scheduled to depart for the Burrow, Hermione spent hours packing and chatting with Rosa about their holiday plans. Rosa would be spending her holiday at home, and would spend Christmas Eve at Thomas's house (right across the street from Rosa's). Hermione couldn't help but smile at the pretty blush that spread itself across Rosa's face at the mention of Thomas.

After Rosa said goodnight and retired to her bedroom, Hermione plopped down on the couch in the common room in front of the fireplace. Hermione was enchanted by the dance of the flames and intently watched them for what felt like hours. She wasn't aware that she had fallen asleep, but at some point during the night she was shocked to attention by the heavy smell of blood.

Hermione snapped her head up and looked around for the source, and felt her heart stop when she saw a figure hunched over the railing of the staircase leading to the boys' dormitories. The figure wasn't moving (to Hermione's knowledge), but a study stream of red ran out from under its form. Hermione began to hyperventilate before she forced herself to think logically.

The figure obviously had to be Rosa, Thomas, or Malfoy, since it had come through the password-guarded portal. It couldn't be Rosa since she had watched the Head Girl go to her room only hours before. That only left Thomas or Malfoy: two people she couldn't leave without medical aid if necessary.

Hermione slowly stood from the couch and forced herself to walk towards the boy. He flinched as her footsteps came closer, but he did not move away. She bit her lip as she saw blonde hair as she came closer to him.

"Draco," Hermione said quietly and hoarsely.

This time he did move away from her. He tried to step up the stairs, but failed. Instead he crumpled to the floor, issuing a grunt.

"Draco!" Hermione quickly knelt beside him and asked, "What's wrong? Where are you hurt?"

He didn't respond to any of her questions, and only muttered, "Damn…Potter…"

Hermione gasped and exclaimed, "Harry, did this!"

"Guess, he's not the saint you thought he was, eh?" Malfoy answered feebly with a wary smirk.

"Oh hush! You provoked him, you arsehole, don't even say otherwise. What did Harry do?"

Hermione waited for a response, and got worried when Malfoy made no attempt to do so. She then realized that the Slytherin was slipping out of consciousness. She quickly grabbed his face between her hands and ordered, "Stay. Awake. Now, what curse did Harry use?"

"…sex…sex…" he murmured, eyes closed.

Hermione immediately turned bright red and squeaked, "What!"

"Curse...some…like…sex…sepra…" he attempted to clarify.

"Oh! The curse sounds like," she blushed, "sexsepra? There are no curses like that…any legal ones, at least."

And then it clicked.

"Sectumsepra!" Hermione exclaimed, causing Malfoy to jerk backwards, "Oh Merlin, I'm sorry! How could Harry use it! I told him that accursed textbook was bad news. And I don't know how to heal its effects…wait…why didn't you go to Madam Pomfrey!"

"No point," he grumbled out.

At this point Hermione's eyes began tearing at the site of so much blood and the obvious pain he was in. She cried out, "I don't know what to do!"

"That's a first," he responded.

"Shut up, you bastard, I don't have to help you," she said, furiously wiping the tears from her eyes.

"Hmm," he responded, again slipping out of consciousness.

"Wait! No, um," she paused while searching her mental archives for a healing spell.

She eventually thought of one that was said to lessen the pain of the Cruciatus Curse, so she figured it may help Malfoy now. She unbuttoned Malfoy's uniform shirt and pushed aside his tie. She couldn't stop herself from gagging at the site of his sliced chest. She then, after a deep, calming breath, began to perform the healing spell.

After a few moments, Hermione saw the effects of her spell. The gashes in his chest began to close up and Malfoy's breathing became less ragged. As more time passed, the gashes were almost completely gone, and Malfoy's breathing stable.

By the time Hermione completed the spell, she could hear Malfoy snoring. She sat on her knees with her hands on his chest and her head hung. Her breathing became erratic as she felt tears coming on.

She began to sob and thought I can't go a week without tears, can I? She told herself that she was crying simply because of the stress her situation put her under. She actually believed herself for a few moments. But her delusion soon faded. She knew the true cause of her tears: relief.

Relief that Draco Malfoy was still alive.