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We approached the door to our common room on the seventh floor. The seventh floor.The walk had been agonising, my breath now coming in short pants. Hermione looked at me in concern but again refrained from pursuing our earlier discussion. I was grateful.

"So," I puffed, "This is it, is it?" I attempted to stretch casually but winced in pain, ruining the effect.

"Yes. Um would you like to catch your breath or…" she trailed off, staring pityingly at my wan form.

"No, no it's fine. I'm fine." I assured. "Shall we?" I pushed off from the wall I had been resting against and Hermione opened the door.

Inside was a cosy room; currently warm from the fire burning in the grate on the far wall. The lush, red carpet and the scarlet drapes matched exactly, providing a certain grandeur to the décor. Two plump velvet armchairs sat facing the dancing fire with a low mahogany coffee table between them. Bright red banners embroidered with the Hogwarts coat of arms hung on either side of the grand fire place. As we entered, I felt welcomed into the embrace of the room and relaxed.

I limped over to one of the chairs, dropped my trunk and collapsed in front of the fire. Heaving a deep sigh, I sunk into the plush velvet.

"Very swish." I muttered to myself.

Evidently, Hermione had caught my words as she replied, "Yes, I think this will do nicely." Her almost posh mannerisms reminded me of Mary Poppins, a character from a muggle children's book I had read secretly when I was ten. "Well I think I'll go unpack. I only had time to bring up my trunk earlier. Goodnight Malfoy."

"Mmm g'night." I mumbled, the soreness plaguing my body dissolving as my eyes drooped, sleep consuming the pain.

I woke with a start; heart pounding, breath painfully sharp. Hermione was standing over me, her hands on my shoulders. Apparently, she had just shaken me awake from my disturbed sleep. In the nightmare, Lucius had come to Hogwarts and violently assaulted me in the crowded great hall. Hermione, clearly silhouetted in the dream, had simply turned her nose up in disgust at my weak behaviour. I had screamed for her to help, to stop him, but she hadn't even spared me a second glance.

However, any prior thoughts of her indifference were banished as the current fear in her eyes was unmistakable.

"Draco? Thank goodness. Are you ok? Are you hurt?" She questioned me, clearly panicked, with her hands still pressing into my shoulders. Her warm eyes darted as they searched me for any sign of injury.

I nodded my head, gasping slightly, and stuttered, "Yes, yes I'm fine."

She removed her vice-like hands and crouched before my armchair.

"You were bellowing in your sleep. I heard you from upstairs, in my dormitory, and came rushing down. You sounded like you were being tortured Malfoy. It was petrifying." Her brown eyes filled with anxiety as she gazed up at my weak form. "Draco, I'm going to be honest, I'm freaked. There is clearly something wrong with you. I tried being patient. I tried being calm. But it can't continue like this. I can't continue like this. Let me help you Draco."

For a second, I let myself believe she could help me. I imagined my complicated life fixed with a simple confession to Hermione Granger. But as quickly as the hope had occurred, it vanished. What in the name of Merlin could she possibly do to help me?

I jumped up from my chair, with as little groaning as I could muster, and stormed away yelling behind me, "I'm fine Granger! Stop hounding me. Can you just leave me alone?"

She was before me in an instant. I came to an abrupt halt in order to avoid collision. Anger was written into her features as she glared at me furiously. "Draco Malfoy you tell me what's wrong this instant! I'm not letting you go until you spill."

I cursed at her loudly in frustration. Didn't she get that I didn't want help? Didn't she get that I couldn't be helped? In return for my language, she heatedly shoved me, hard, into the wall. Her small hands pressed violently into my injured chest and I stumbled, leaning agonisingly on my broken leg. I cried out and doubled over, clutching my chest and gasping in pain. Hastily, I removed all weight from my injured limb, hobbling on the spot.

Hermione, seeing the immense pain she had caused, instantly jumped to support me back to my chair.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry Draco. I shouldn't have… It's my fault… Are you alright?" she exclaimed in genuine concern as she lowered me into the plush velvet.

I knew then that I would not be able to hide my injuries any longer. I had given too much away. She would only persist until the whole truth was discovered. There was no escaping the fact she was a better witch than I a wizard so I couldn't force my way out. I stood up again, groaning loudly, and silently unbuttoned my shirt.

"What are you…"Hermione tailed off in pure horror as my chest was revealed.

She stared, transfixed, at my blackened torso. Large purple clouds covered two thirds of my chest, as deeply violet as a 'Cadbury' chocolate wrapper. Yellow edged the purple bruising which extended around my back. The place where the chest tube had been inserted was tightly stitched, matching my busted lip. I promptly lifted the leg of my pants to reveal my now visible cast, and the horror in her eyes deepened further.

"Oh, Draco. I'm so sorry." Hermione whispered, almost inaudibly, her glassy eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"Who?" she asked quietly, after a lengthy silence.

"My father." I replied, equally as quiet.

I sat down onto the carpet below and Hermione joined me, embracing my shuddering form.