She had been so sure that all of this was finally over. That their life could move forward now, knowing that Voldemort was gone once and for all. This new attack just proved that they would never be safe. Not really.

Hermione must have fallen into a light doze at some point, because she jolted up at the sound of the door to the Room of Requirement opening. Panic ripped through her. She leapt from the chair, crashing to the floor in a tangle of blankets. She crouched with her wand at the ready, waiting, watching.

Malfoy stepped through the door. He raised his eyebrows at her position and closed the door softly behind him. "If you're going to curse me, I suggest you do it quickly," Malfoy said.

Hermione, straightened, trying to return as much dignity as she could muster before tripping over the blanket as she tried to step away. Her hands fell to her sides, but she didn't let go of her wand. Her heart still thumped with hard learned distrust.

"Is everything okay?" Malfoy took a step forward.

Hermione shuddered and moved back away from her armchair—and Malfoy. "Do you know anything about all this?"

His forehead wrinkled.

"About what?"

"The attacks." Hermione threw up her arms in exasperation. "The Death Eaters, do you know who it was? Was anyone else involved?"

Malfoy's eyes darkened to hard iron and his muscles tensed into a defensive stance. "I don't know anything about the attack. Why should I? I've been here for the past couple months. Before that I was under house arrest until they decided that it was safe for me to return."

Hermione didn't realize she was walking across the room until Malfoy was standing close enough to touch. The anger bubbled deep inside her, hot and dark. "You must have some idea," she pressed.

"Why don't you ask me what you really want to know?" He towered over her and Hermione couldn't remember a time when he'd ever looked so angry, not when she'd punched him in their third year, not when he'd been plotting Dumbledore's demise, not even during the Battle of Hogwarts.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Were you involved?"

"No." His voice cracked in her ears like a whip. "I'm not. And if I knew anything, I would make sure all of this was brought to an end."

"Why?" Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. "You hate Muggles. You hate Mudbloods. You hate everyone."

"I don't hate everyone." For the tiniest second, his eyes flickered on the last word, but then it was gone and the hard look returned. Hermione wanted to look away, but she found that she couldn't. "Don't you think if I wanted to hurt someone, I could have done it ages ago? Like the night in here—" he motioned to the surrounding room "—with you."

Hermione swallowed hard, her mouth and throat dry. She thought of the Malfoy she'd seen recently, the one with tortured eyes that poured her cups of tea. Even those thoughts couldn't stop the flood of memories: Malfoy with his wicked grin being Sorted into Slytherin, Malfoy capturing them under Umbridge's tyranny, Malfoy standing by while she was tortured.

She pushed them all away and stepped so close to him that she could breathe in his scent and see the muscles in his throat flex as he swallowed hard. "I don't seem to recall you fighting for our side last year when this place was being invaded by your kind," she hissed.

Malfoy's voice rose until he was almost shouting in frustration. "They're not my kind."

"Prove it," Hermione growled.

His eyes glanced back and forth in desperation, muscles tensed with suppressed anger. Hermione felt a strange rush of satisfaction at having thrown him off-balance. Then Malfoy put his hands on her shoulders and, before she had time to flinch away, his lips were on hers.

The kiss was all fire and anger and desperation. Heat roared down Hermione's spine as she pressed her hands to his chest. His lips were rough and demanding. When his tongue reached down and traced her bottom lip, one thought finally broke through the fog.

I'm kissing Malfoy.

The rush of ice in her veins quenched the fire in seconds. Her hands clenched on his chest as she shoved him away. He stumbled back, catching himself against the wall before he could fall. Hermione stayed where she was, gasping for breath.

Malfoy looked up at her, but she found that she couldn't meet his gaze. Emotions twirled inside of her like a hurricane: fury, guilt, sorrow, even longing.

He opened his mouth to say something.

"Get out," Hermione whispered.

Malfoy's eyes darted around the room, looking everywhere but her. All the tension fell out of his muscles at once, making him slump back against the wall for support. For a second, Malfoy looked like he might stay and say whatever it was that was on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he turned his back to her and slipped back out the door. Hermione fell to the floor, too deeply in shock to make it back to the chair.

What was that? She'd kissed Malfoy. She'd liked kissing Malfoy. Friendship was one thing. It was easy, simple, to explain away that they were just two outsiders seeking comfort in the same room. But this…this was anything but simple. It took her a few minutes before she realized that she believed him when he said he didn't know what the Death Eaters were up to this time.

Once she'd come to that conclusion, she realized that she needed a game plan. She couldn't avoid Malfoy forever. He was in her Potions class, for Merlin's sake. Then again, she wasn't sure if she really wanted to avoid him. When she'd felt most alone, he of all people had been there for her. She sat on the floor, the warmth from the fire seeping into her bones, until well after midnight.

By the time she fell into her bed in the Gryffindor tower, she had come to one conclusion: whatever had happened was past now and she couldn't see Malfoy like that again. If anyone found out, she could lose her friends and her life as she knew it. The kiss was a one-time thing and that's the way it would have to be. If that meant she could only see Malfoy in classes, then so be it.

A week passed with her resolve intact. She refused to look at Malfoy any longer than necessary. He faded into the background, just another student in the thousands. She stopped hiding out in the Room of Requirement, choosing instead the library, the Gryffindor common room, or seeking solace in a little alcove behind a tapestry that she'd found on the Map.

Until one evening when she was walking in the hallway and something tapped her on the shoulder.

Hermione turned, expecting to see a friend or perhaps a lost first-year looking for guidance. Instead, there was a paper bird fluttering at shoulder-height.

She reached out a hand and it landed in her palm. This one wasn't as delicately folded as all the previous ones. It seemed slap-dash at best, bits of paper sticking out at odd angles and a small tear at the top of its head.

Hermione ran down the hallway to her alcove hideaway and unfolded it with shaking hands.

Printed at the center were only two words, in a handwriting she'd only seen a few times but would recognize anywhere: I'm sorry.

Regret and longing burned in her chest. Whether it was regret for the kiss that changed everything or the past, she really couldn't say.

Hermione stared at it for what seemed like days, before she realized that it didn't change anything. She was still Hermione Granger, war hero and best friend to Harry Potter, and he was still Draco Malfoy, Death Eater and the would-be killer of Dumbledore. Even so, she found herself folding the parchment back up and stowing it away in a pocket of her robes.

Hermione turned her attention to her Defense Against the Dark Arts essay. It was almost finished, already over a roll longer than their professor's specifications, but she needed just a touch more research before she could be satisfied. She peeked out from behind the tapestry and, satisfied that no one was there to see her hiding place, slipped out and down to the library.

The book called out to her like old friends as she ran her finger down their spines. In the back of the Restricted Section she found the shelves she was looking for and started tugging down volumes.

"A Head Girl sneaking into the Restricted Section," a voice said behind her. "Scandalous." Hermione squeaked and dropped the books in her hands with a resounding crash. As she bent to pick them up, Malfoy knelt next to her to help.

"I have a permanent pass," Hermione snapped once they were all stacked safely once more in her arms. "Now if you'll excuse me…" She moved to push past him.

Malfoy let her go, but whispered, "Hermione."

She froze, the sound of her name strange on his lips. "Yes?" She refused to give him the satisfaction of turning around, refused to acknowledge the way her heart tingled at the knowledge that he was standing right behind her.

"I am sorry."

Hermione turned around slowly, but kept her gaze on her books. She was afraid of the things she might feel if she looked up and into those now-familiar silver eyes. "I'm sorry I accused you."

Malfoy shrugged. "If our positions were reversed, I'm sure I would question me too."

"Still…I jumped to conclusions…" Hermione looked up, eyes following the proud lines of his shoulders up his neck to his face. His mouth was in a tight straight line and his eyes wide with confusion.

"I actually came here to ask you something." He clasped his hands behind his back. "Would you mind reading over my essay?"

Hermione's eyes searched his and her face broke into a cautious smile. Homework was something she could understand and deal with. Maybe this could be simple after all. "I wouldn't mind at all."

Her heart beat a little faster as Malfoy motioned for her to go first over the rope and back into the rest of the library. Then again…maybe not.