A/N: I'm so glad you liked the Dramione interaction in the last chapter! It was so fun writing it. =) Draco still has a lot of struggles to overcome, though... Thanks, once again, for your reviews. They mean more than I could ever express.

Narcissa held up her head, and strode purposefully into the room. The Healer woman, Madam Adonna, had just attempted to ask her some very personal questions regarding her life, Draco's life, and Lucius's life. Narcissa could hardly believe anybody would dare to be so intrusive about the Malfoy family.

"Draco, darling," she said, "we need to talk."

It had been a busy day for Draco, first Hermione and now his mother. He couldn't help but smile though, his two favorite women coming to see him. He could get used to that. "Yes, Mother."

She walked over to the bed and sat down next to her son. "There is this...Healer woman..." she said the words, and wrinkled her nose slightly, "who might be coming around here, poking her nose in our business. Asking questions."

"Mother, that's her job." Draco answered, knowing where this was going. "She has to ask, but I won't discuss-" he looked down at his arm, referencing the Dark Mark.

Narcissa gave a little huff. "Well, I would think you wouldn't discuss that at all," she replied. "How could it be her job, prodding in our familyaffairs?"

"I don't know," Draco snapped back, trying not to get harsh with his mother. "But I'm ready to get out of here. This place, this food. I don't know how father does it."

Well, just stay true to the Malfoy name," she warned. "And I don't mean the way your father does," she added softly.

Draco looked at his mother. He had just promised Hermione he would try to open up and now his mother was asking that he not. His mother, who had never steered him wrong, was telling him to keep his mouth shut.

"What do you want me to say?" He asked, "You know what? Forget it! I'm tired, mother, I'm going to sleep." Rolling over, he turned his back to his mother, making sure she don't see the tears of frustration blurring his vision.

Backing away, Narcissa gave a small sigh of frustration, giving a last glance over her shoulder at Draco, and walked away out of the door.

He couldn't turn back over, even if he wanted to. Never in his life had Draco purposefully disobeyed his mother, mainly because she didn't lay many rules on him, but also out of respect. Never had he turned his back on her.

"I'm sorry, Mother," he spoke out to the wall, unsure if she were even still in the room. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too, Draco," she said softly, hearing him through the door. She knew she couldn't show it, but she was nearly as conflicted as Draco was at the moment. She just couldn't show him her vulnerability. She had to be strong, for Draco wasn't even being himself. It was the first time he had ever turned his back on her. And...it hurt, so she walked away, to let him collect his thoughts. Hopefully, leaving him alone would help.

Madam Adonna straightened her clipboard against herself, nodding at Narcissa Malfoy as she walked down the hall toward Draco Malfoy's room.

She rapped her knuckles on the door, determined to try to get something out of Draco this time. "Draco?" she questioned, it's Madam Adonna.

"Come in," Draco groaned, rolling back over onto his back in the bed s he wiped the tears away and sterned up his face, trying to appear more like a man.

"Draco," she continued, sitting down in the chair by the side of the bed, "how are you feeling today?"

"Ugh, this again? Can't we talk about who won the Quidditch cup or how's the weather? Do we really have to jump into this emotional rubbish?"

Madam Adonna's lips thinned as she said, "Draco, I am not the enemy here, you know. I am attempting to help you."

"I know you're not the enemy," he whispered, shaking as he thought about Hermione, "but I don't need your help. I just want to go home."

Madam Adonna sighed a small sigh of frustration. "Shall we try this again?" she questioned. "Tell me about...something that makes you smile?"

Draco thought about it, knowing he could answer this one without disobeying his mother. He pictured her chocolate brown eyes, her frizzy hair that never had body in the right places. A smile crept across Draco's face as he remembers the slight mumur she made as soon as she fell asleep every night, the way she would kick her feet while reading a book until she hit a really interesting spot, then they would stop. "Her name is Hermione," he answers, the smile on his face unmistakable now. "Hermione Granger."

"'Hermione,'" the Healer repeated, smiling with him. It was the first time she had ever seen the look on Draco's face. "Such a lovely name. Why does this Hermione make you so happy?"

Draco shrugged, "I don't know, she's just...she's smart, smartest witch of our age, and a firecracker. I love getting under her skin. She does this, this eyebrow thing when she's mad and I can only hope-" Narcissa's voice rang out in Draco's head, reminding him not to mention the baby. Quickly, the smile disappears. "I only hope she sees that," he answered.

"You only hope she sees her eyebrow thing?" the Healer asked in confusion. "…or…was there something else?" she prodded.

"I only hope that she sees how much I appreciate her," he answered, shutting down again.

The Healer looked over at Draco with sadness. For one glorious moment, he appeared to open up-but then she had lost him once more. "Draco, the sooner you can talk with me, the sooner you can leave."

"I am talking," Draco snapped. "You asked what makes me smile, I said Hermione. I talked."

"Then perhaps she would be able to loosen your tongue," said the Healer, as she stood up. "Good day, Draco." Then she put her quill on her clipboard and walked out the door.

Frustrated, Draco wanted to get up. He wanted to punch something, to tear apart his room like he could at Hogwarts but it was out of the question. He was confined to the bed and he hated it. "Dammit!" he screamed out in frustration, "Why me!"