Hello! I'm writing a new story (don't worry I am also trying to finish off The Unexpected Pack, hopefully final few chapters up soon!), my first Dramione - I hope you enjoy it. I've got 5 chapters written already and now that I've graduated from uni have lots of time on my hands to write so hoping to get a chapter out each week for the foreseeable future but for anyone who's read any of my other works you'll know I'm not a consistent poster so for that I apologise. Anyways I hope you enjoy this, let me know your thoughts in a review!

- HermionesPolyjuice xo

*trigger warning: talk and implication of rape*

Chapter 1

Draco Malfoy peered around the corner to check the coast was clear before continuing down the corridor. He may be a prefect, which gave him extra privileges, and a fifth-year, allowing him in the library until midnight during the weekdays, but he still didn't want to get caught by Filch or that cat of his. It would make life a lot more difficult. He silently trod down the weaving corridors before he finally reached his destination. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, not surprised to see a faint glow radiating from the far corner; Granger. It always was, even just a few weeks into the new academic year he knew she would already be getting ahead with her revision and work for their OWLs in May. But the rest of the library was pitch black. Every other sensible person was probably in bed and near asleep. If people knew that Draco Malfoy visited the library every night, well…safe to say his peers wouldn't think so highly of him. But he had to work, it didn't come naturally to him. Yes, he was very bright and consistently scored high in exams, but mainly because of the work he put in in the dead of night.

He headed over to his usual table, currently bathed in the moonlight under the window and settled down for a long night of work – this potions essay wasn't going to get done itself and he had to prove to his father that he was competent. A shiver went down his back as he thought of his father. Not that Draco truly considered him a father figure. He never so much as smiled at his son, never complimented him, and most certainly never let him live it down he was being outperformed by a mudblood. And now he was chasing after some snake trying to prove himself, for what? Draco hated to admit it, but there was a part of him that just didn't quite understand the whole hierarchy within the wizarding world. Those thoughts must have come from his mother, a quiet, lonely woman, who certainly frowned upon Lucius' actions. But that was only a tiny part of him that thought that; the more significant part still very much frowned upon anyone who wasn't from one of the ancient pureblood families. Draco sighed as he pulled out books, parchment, quills, and ink and laid them on the table, settling down to a long night.

He had just finished the introduction when he heard the door click open and then shut behind almost immediately. He couldn't see the door exactly from where he sat but no one would be able to walk in without him seeing them so when he looked up and saw no one walk through the library he was confused. But he shrugged it off, the school was plagued with ghosts and people who could disillusion themselves to sneak around. It didn't surprise him too much, and so he turned back to his work and continued to scribble away in his neat, perfect handwriting, completely unawares to what was happening a mere few metres away from his table.

Draco continued to write away for the next hour, the only noise in the room his quill scratching away at the parchment. He hadn't twigged that the other quill to parchment noise could no longer be heard despite the golden glow from the other table still there. He was too absorbed to hear the second click of the door a while after the first one had opened the door. He was too focused on his essay he hadn't heard the scuffling that came from the other table his classmate had been working at. It wasn't until he put down his quill to stretch his fingers did he notice just how quiet it had become. And then he heard it. It was faint, almost silent and to an untrained ear wouldn't be heard. But from a very young age Draco had been taught to listen out for the tiniest of sounds, which he mostly put to use to creep down to the kitchens for midnight snacks when he was younger. So, he heard it. He heard the whimpering. As he sat there, his eyebrows furrowed it almost seemed like it got louder, and it made his stomach jolt. It wasn't a good sound. It wasn't good at all.

A large part of him, the prejudiced Slytherin side, wanted to just pick up his quill and continue his essay. Just as he had been taught to listen for everything, he had also been taught to block out any noise. A child should be seen but never heard he had been told hundreds of times by his father. He wanted to finish his work, go to bed for a few hours and continue his life as normal. And he told himself that's what he should be doing. So when he found himself pushing his chair back he couldn't explain his actions. He felt in a daze as his legs carried him through the darkened library towards the source of the sound. He shouldn't care. He should just ignore it. Who cared if something had happened to a mudblood? Who cared if she was crying? But she wasn't just crying, no something had happened to her. And Draco was telling himself she needed him. And regardless of who he or she was, he couldn't just leave her. His mind was full of conflicting thoughts. But it was the overriding need to help. He would look back on this and convince himself that he was just a human helping another human, nothing more, nothing less.

His feet dragged towards the glow. He still had time to turn around, but something was pulling him away from his desk and comfort and into the unknown. He didn't know what he was expecting, but what was in front of him shook him to the core. She was lying on the floor, semi-conscious, blood seeping from so many cuts across her body. Her robes were ripped and large bruises were spreading. Some of her limbs looked slightly deformed and she was cradling her stomach as she whimpered in what Draco now identified as pain. He froze and took in the sight before him. How in Merlin's name did he not hear anything happen? Surely he hadn't been that engrossed in his work? He didn't know what to do. He had committed himself this far, and once again there was a part of him telling him to take her to the Hospital Wing. He couldn't leave her. Whoever she was and however far beneath him she stood, she was hurt, and she needed help. No one else was around, so it had to be him. Or did it? He could take his things back to Slytherin Common Room, no one would be none the wiser. They would have no proof he had been there.

But once again, he felt his subconscious going against what he had always believed in. He walked over to her, wrapped what clothing she had left around her a bit more, he didn't need to see any more than was necessary. He picked her up and without even a second thought he left the library and wandered through the dark, silent corridors. His heart was racing, if anyone saw him in his current situation he would be sent away from Hogwarts before the sun appeared over the mountains. He crept up the stairs and towards the Hospital Wing, his shoes echoing around him, considerably louder than he wanted. Finally, he saw the large oak doors at the end of the corridor. He had made it. He let out a sigh and quickened his pace, relieved to have not crossed paths with anyone else.

He pushed open the door and wasn't in the least bit surprised to find it deserted. He put her down on the nearest bed and headed towards the matron's quarters. He knocked loudly on the door, and in just a few seconds heard grumbling and movement.

"It's the dead of night, what on earth could have happened?" the stern matron said as she opened the door. "Malfoy?"

"I need your help. I found her, in the library. I don't know what happened, but it's not good," Draco responded in his usual voice, void of emotion. The matron furrowed her eyebrows in confusion but followed the prefect back through the Hospital Wing. She let out an audible gasp of horror as she took in the sight before her.

"What in Merlin's-" she started, unable to finish with shock. It took her just a few seconds before she put on her bossy way and started to work healing up the cuts and bruises, performing spells well beyond Draco's ability.

"You need to leave, Malfoy. Go to your common room and come back in the morning before breakfast so we can talk," Madame Pomfrey said over her shoulder as she peeled off the robes. She flicked her wand and curtains around the bed shut, leaving Draco in the dark facing a piece of green fabric. He turned around and stalked out the room, without so much a second thought. He had done his job. No, he had done more than his job. He hadn't needed to do that; it was only because he was a human he did it. Either way, there was no need for him anymore. He walked back towards the library, packed his bag quickly and hurried back to the dungeons, enough adventure to last him at least a few weeks.

Just a mere 15 minutes later, he found himself lying on his bed, staring up into the low ceiling. His brain was a muddle of thoughts. He didn't know what had happened. He didn't know why he had done what he had. He was confused. And he didn't like being confused. He was in for a long night; he was not going to sleep when so many different thoughts were running wild through his mind.

[-*-]

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy. Thank you for joining us," Professor Dumbledore said as Draco walked into the Hospital Wing early the next morning. He was surprised to see both the headmaster and transfiguration teacher deep in conversation with the matron. But really, he shouldn't have been. A student was attacked the previous night. And the attacker was almost certainly a student in the school. He didn't quite know why he had come. He, once again, associated his decisions, or lack thereof, to his subconscious. If he was acting how he normally had, he would firstly never have helped the previous night and then secondly not have come this morning. Draco nodded at his headmaster.

"I believe we need to talk about last night. Poppy, please can we use your office?" Dumbledore asked, turning to the matron. Madame Pomfrey trotted off towards the back of the Hospital Wing, the three others following in her wake. Once they had all settled themselves down into various chairs around the office, Dumbledore looked down at Draco, over the top of his spectacles, his blue eyes not twinkling as he had been so used to. No, the look Draco was currently receiving form his headmaster sent a shiver down his back. Before anyone else could say anything, he blurted out.

"I didn't do it." Dumbledore raised an eyebrow ever so slightly as if he were examining the student and staring deep into his thoughts. Draco shuddered but then relaxed a little when Dumbledore sat back against this chair. Of course he didn't relax too much, his back was still rod straight and looked the headmaster straight in the eye.

"I believe you." Draco almost let out a sigh of relief at those words. "But we're going to need to know exactly what happened." Draco hesitated for a fraction of a second but then told the three of them everything that had happened the night before. Once he had finished, they all surveyed him, each with their own expressions. Dumbledore's was of deep thought, McGonagall of disgust and Pomfrey of shock.

"So you heard the door open, didn't see anyone enter the library. You didn't hear anything until the door then opened again?" McGonagall asked for clarification. Draco nodded. "I see." Before anyone else could say or do anything, Draco blurted something out that once again shocked him, and judging by the looks on the staffs' faces they had not been expecting it.

"She is OK, isn't she?"

"She's not in a great place right now. She had extensive damage internally and…well…there are suggestions that she…umm…she may have been –"

"Poppy," Professor McGonagall interrupted sternly. "Is it wise?" It was all very cryptic to Draco, but he had a strong feeling he knew exactly what the matron had been about to say, and it made him feel very nauseous. She may have been, no be, a mudblood but no one, not even the scum of the earth, deserved that. No one at all. It was then that Draco pledged revenge. No matter who she was, it didn't matter to him. All that mattered was that the attacker was reprimanded and punished, regardless of who it was.

"Draco deserves to know. He saved her life," Professor Dumbledore said surveying the blonde over his glasses. Draco's heart skipped a beat at that comment. He had saved her life? He had only brought her to the Hospital Wing, it wasn't that special. It couldn't have been enough to have saved her. If he had been paying more attention, he could have prevented this all from happening. It's not as if his potions essay mattered in the grand scheme of things.

"She…she almost died?" Draco asked tentatively. They all looked grave.

"If she hadn't have been found until this morning there is a high chance her internal injuries could have killed her, yes," Madam Pomfrey said and Draco was surprised to see her eyes watering.

"It was incredibly lucky you had been there at all, Mister Malfoy," Professor McGonagall said, her voice choked.

"I…er…could I see her?" Draco asked, his shoulder slumping somewhat. He watched as they all shared curious, and shocked in the matron's case, expressions, as if they were having a conversation telepathically.

"I don't see why not. Just a minute and then you had best be off to breakfast, I gather the house elves made waffles today," Professor Dumbledore said, rising from his chair and leading them out of the office.

"I will be down to see you later, Poppy. Minerva, you may need to tell Harry and Ron, they should know. And, Draco, thank you," Professor Dumbledore gave them a nod, his face grave and his eyes dull before turning on his heel and leaving the Hospital Wing in a swish of his purple robes.

"I had best be off to find Potter and Weasley. Poppy, please let me know if anything changes." And just as Professor Dumbledore had left, McGonagall left with a swish of her black robes, her shoes clicking loudly on the stone floor.

"Just a minute, Mister Malfoy and then to the rest of your day please." Madam Pomfrey opened the curtains a fraction so Draco could slip in without anyone passing the doors catching sight of her. He looked over her and was surprised to see bruises spreading across her face and the arm that was on top of the covers. She had one black eye and her noise looked a little crooked. He hadn't managed to see her that night before, so it was a shock to see her so…so damaged.

His feet dragged him up towards the end of the bed. He reached out and stroked a stray curl behind her ear, no awareness of what he was doing.

"I shouldn't have let it happen," he murmured. It was as close to an apology she was going to get. He turned on his heel and left the Hospital Wing, his heart hammering deep inside his chest and his mind working at a hundred miles an hour.

[-*-]

"She's what?" Ron exclaimed loudly as Professor McGonagall finished explaining what had happened to Hermione after taking them away from breakfast. She nodded gravely.

"Miss Granger is not in a good way, it's a relief Mister Malfoy found her or else…well…she likely wouldn't be with us anymore," the elderly witch hiccupped, her eyes watering.

"He did it. Of course he bloody well did it. He fucking hates her guts. Why else would he be in the library? He did it and then took to the Hospital Wing so she could just suffer more," Ron continued loudly as he jumped to his feet. "I'm going to kill him."

"Mister Weasley, sit down." Ron had no choice but to obey, the look he was receiving from his head of house was menacing. "I will not tolerate that language or those accusations in my office, or anywhere. Mister Malfoy did not attack Miss Granger. He was there at the time and he found her. Thank Merlin he did. The headmaster believes him, so do I, and so will you. If I hear any more of that nonsense, there will be consequences." Her eyes had narrowed, and she was practically glaring at the two boys. Ron gulped but nodded slowly.

"Can…can we see her?" Harry asked quietly after a few seconds of silence. Professor McGonagall's expression softened almost immediately.

"Yes, of course you can. But you'll need to wait until break, your first lesson starts in under five minutes. You'd better get going." Knowing that was the end of that conversation, Harry and Ron picked up their bags, slung them over their shoulders and left the office in silence. They didn't say a single word as they made their way outside to the greenhouses. They stood outside in silence, waiting for Professor Sprout to let them in. The Slytherins waltzed towards the greenhouses, Draco Malfoy stood slightly to the side rather than at the front like he usually did. He looked over at Harry and Ron, making the slightest of eye contacts with them both before looking distinctively away at the ground. Harry could feel Ron tense up next to him.

"Don't. You'll make it worse," he murmured warningly, his eyes not leaving the top of Draco's face as he neared them. The Slytherins stopped just in front of the Gryffindors. Harry could see Pansy Parkinson's eyes flitting across them all, making an internal head count.

"No mudblood today? Finally snuffed it, has she?" she smirked. Harry reached out and grabbed the back of Ron's robes as he lunged. Fortunately, before any further retaliation could happen, the door to the greenhouse opened and the squat, Herbology professor appeared, announcing the start of the lesson. She took no notice of Harry, and also Dean who sprung to Harry's assistance as Ron continued to reach for Pansy, holding back his best friend. Squabbles between houses outside classrooms were common occurrences, nothing to get involved with. Harry had to practically drag the fuming Weasley inside the classroom and towards the farthest Moly from the door, the plant they were currently working on to extract and dry the flowers. He didn't dare let go of him until he was sure Ron wasn't going to pounce at the Slytherin.

"She. Has. No. Right," Ron stammered, his hands fisted and his whole body shaking.

"Ron, calm down will you. You're drawing far too much attention." Harry was correct. Even Professor Sprout was eyeing the duo carefully. Harry gave her a meek smile and judging by the look that flickered through her eyes she knew what had riled Ron up. It was clear all the staff members knew about Hermione. Given that gossip spread like wildfire at Hogwarts, Harry dreaded how long it would take for the entire school to know a student was attacked in the library. He assumed everyone would know by the end of the day at the latest, more likely by lunchtime.

It was probably the slowest Herbology lesson Harry had ever had to endure. The clock hands just didn't seem to move. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, only once their Moly plant had been entirely stripped of all its flowers, did the bell ring, signalling the end of the lesson and the start of break. Harry and Ron didn't even hear Professor Sprout give them their homework before they had darted out of the greenhouse, into the castle and up the flights of stairs, battling their way through the crowd all heading outside to catch the last of the sun before autumn fully took hold. They made it to the Hospital Wing, both panting heavily and pushed open the doors.

The medi-witch looked up from where she was administering a potion to a small first year Hufflepuff in the closest bed. Otherwise, the infirmary was empty. The far bed on the right had its curtains drawn, suggesting that that was the bed Hermione was currently occupying. Madam Pomfrey nodded her head towards the bed and Harry and Ron slowly walked towards it, their hearts hammering in their chest, not just from the run through the castle but also from the nerves coursing through their bodies at what they were going to see. If Hermione had been so close to her death, they knew it wasn't going to be good. It was no surprise, therefore, that tears filled both of their eyes as Harry pulled open the curtain and they finally caught sight of their best friend, lying on the bed, completely motionless and almost entirely unrecognisable.

Silently, Harry and Ron sunk into chairs on either side of Hermione's bed, neither of them taking their eyes off of her. Seeing her lying there, so helplessly shook them right to the core. The last thing they had expected when Professor McGonagall had pulled them away from breakfast that morning was to tell them Hermione had been badly hurt during the night. It hit home hard. The amount of times they had just let her be all alone in the library in the dead of night. They should never have allowed it. They both felt like it was their fault she was lying there. If only they had been with her. If only they had taken their work seriously rather than playing games the entire time. If only…

The boys didn't know how long they sat there not saying anything, just feeling the presence and overriding guilt of each other, until they heard scuffling on the other side of the curtain. They exchanged a wary look and Harry pulled back the curtain a fraction to catch a glimpse of what was happening the other side. His eyes widened in shock. He didn't know what he was expecting, but seeing a shock of white blonde hair, grey eyes and a pointed chin was not it. Draco Malfoy was in the Hospital Wing. And it was hardly a coincidence as he watched the grey eyes flitter over towards the gap in the curtain and make contact with Harry's own tear-filled green eyes. Harry quickly pulled the curtain closed, not wanting anything more to do with the Slytherin. The professors may well believe he was innocent, but Harry wasn't about to just let him off like that.

"What's going on?" Ron asked, watching Harry curiously.

"Nothing," Harry muttered in response. He definitely didn't want Ron to know that Draco Malfoy was near them. Utter chaos would ensue and that was the least of his concerns. Fortunately, Ron accepted the answer with a curt nod. It wasn't much longer until they heard the bell ring again, signalling the start of their next lesson. Without talking to each other, Harry and Ron picked up their bags and stood up.

"We'll be back, Hermione," Harry whispered as they ducked between the curtains and hurried out of the Hospital Wing and down to the Charms classroom on the third floor.

"You know, we should probably make sure we get all her homework and notes from the classes for her, you know so she won't feel so behind when she wakes up," Ron said as they disappeared behind a tapestry that would give them a short cut to the Charms wing.

"Yeah. She's not going to be happy even missing one class," Harry agreed. They had arrived outside the classroom and judging by the deserted corridor their classmates had already entered and begun the lesson. Harry reached out to turn the doorknob and push open the door when he was stopped suddenly.

"Harry?" Ron asked so quietly and fully with worry that Harry's heart flipped. He'd never heard his voice like that before. He turned and looked at his best friend, concern etched among all the freckles.

"Ron," he answered just as quietly.

"She's going to be OK, isn't she?" Ron asked so many emotions evident in his voice it was hard for Harry to pinpoint just one.

"Of course she will be, she's Hermione. She will be fine," Harry said, trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince his friend.

"I hope so," Ron muttered looking down at his feet. Harry watched a tear dropped and splattered on the floor. He reached out and placed a hand on the red-head boy's shoulder.

"It will all be OK," he repeated softly giving Ron's shoulder a squeeze. Ron reached up and roughly wiped his eyes, but he nodded. The duo walked into the Charms classroom and found a seat at the back of the room where they couldn't be disturbed or looked at keenly by their peers, wallowing in misery.

Harry and Ron visited Hermione at every opportunity they had for the rest of the day; during lunch, their afternoon break, before and after dinner. They made sure to make a note of every assignment and left an ever growing pile of notes and books next to her bed. They even pulled some desks and completed their Potions essay next to her bed that evening. It wasn't until 8 o'clock that Madam Pomfrey shooed them out telling them visiting hours had finished. They left the Hospital Wing and headed back to the Gryffindor common room so caught up in their own thoughts they didn't notice the person creeping about in the shadows going in the opposite direction.

That person happened to be a certain Slytherin, who was heading towards the Hospital Wing. Yet again, Draco would say that it was his subconscious telling him he needed to see her, not any conscious thoughts. He knew he was pushing the time but didn't really care as he quietly pushed open the large oak doors. There were two beds surrounded with curtains, the closest belonging to a first year, and the further one hiding Hermione. He treaded silently towards the far right corner and eased open the gap in the curtains. A strip of evening light from the window above her bed was falling across her face exposing her black and blue bruises to Draco's eyes. He sat down in the seat that Harry had abandoned just a few minutes earlier and just stared at her. He wouldn't be able to tell anyone what he was doing there yet alone what he was even thinking about. But just being there, being in her presence calmed him down. It confirmed to him that he had done the right thing, even despite all their differences he had helped her. And there was something, deep down inside of him that changed. In saving her a switch was flipped; he wouldn't be able to quite say what it did, but he knew he had just altered how his future was going to look.