Granger sat down beside him and for a moment Draco almost looked up to greet her. He quickly decided against it though; Granger wanted them to be civil and Draco was sure he'd end up saying something rude if he spoke at all. He wasn't the nicest person in the world and he never would be; the list of things that he would need to improve for that to happen was the longest thing in the world. He only looked up when she sneezed and-Granger looked like hell. Draco was almost sure that she looked like she'd been hit by a car or a couple of Cruciatus Curses. He'd seen her after the-No, he refused to think about that now. He'd done enough thinking about Granger being tortured in front of him during the past week, ever since she'd had that flashback, and it was driving him crazy. At night he was sure he could hear her screaming like she had that day and half the time it kept him awake. It was awful. He needed to get away from her if he wanted his life to go back to a semi-normal state.

But the pale color of her skin, excluding the redness of her cheeks and nose, the way her eyes seemed heavy and had bags under them, the way the corners of her lips seemed to constantly tilt down had him wondering what on earth was going on with her. It wasn't the Granger he had known from previous years and he was curious more than anything else. He wanted to know, for some reason, what had happened to make her change so drastically. She'd always been the same know-it-all book lover that he'd always found irritating but not bad enough to hate. And he didn't hate her now, not really, even though he was still wary of her. Draco contemplated telling her that she should go to the hospital wing as she sneezed again, but he didn't. His frown deepened and his mind began to race, trying to find a good way to offhandedly make her feel better. He cursed himself for wanting to do that, but it appeared she'd gone through hell. She hadn't actually, Draco knew, but something that effected her that much was enough to make him take notice. Taking notice of Hermione Granger was something he never thought would happen more than once in a week.

The lesson began and Draco glanced at Granger again; her eyes were half closed and she looked like she was about to fall asleep. Which wouldn't surprise him; he'd finally reached getting up a few minutes before five and she was still up then too. It seemed that she reads more than she sleeps, which Draco couldn't understand wanting to do, but it was her life. He refused to express his concern-No, not concern, curiosity. He didn't care about what was happening with Granger, he was curious. It had to be only curiosity.

Draco was pulled out of his, in his opinion, disturbing thoughts by the sound of Professor Vector asking Granger a question. She didn't respond and Professor Vector frowned and began approaching their desk. "Granger," Draco said, elbowing her. She blinked and sneezed, looking rather confused as her eyes narrowed at him.

"What?" she asked, her tone slightly angry and wary.

"You just completely ignored Vector-"

"Quiet, Mr. Malfoy," Vector said, frowning at him before turning her attention to Granger. "Are you feeling all right?"

Granger nodded even though it was obvious to everyone in the room that she wasn't. "Of course, Professor, I'm fine. Just a little tired, that's all,"

"Well try getting a little more sleep, Miss Granger. Now, let's try that question again..."

Draco stared at Professor Vector in disbelief as she walked back to the front of the room; something was wrong with Granger and it obviously wasn't just being tired. He had no idea why Vector had just accepted such an obvious lie when she was one of the smartest professors in the school. They moved on after Granger gave a correct answer though, and now Draco couldn't help but stare at her. "What the hell is going on with you?" he whispered, frowning at her.

"Nothing," she said, keeping her eyes on her textbook. "Please be quiet,"

"Granger-"

"Please," she said again, glancing at him.

Draco frowned and turned his attention back to the front of the class, though he didn't really care to pay attention after that. He was thinking, his mind going about a million miles per hour as he thought about Granger. He absolutely despised thinking about her because she confused him more than anything else, but he couldn't stop his mind. He'd have to convince her to talk to him so he could figure her out. That's what he needed to do; figure her out so he could stop thinking about her so much. It wasn't something Draco was incredibly happy about doing it but if it got him to stop thinking about her then it was worth a shot.

The class ended rather quickly after Draco's decision, which he was pleased about. There was just one more class in his day and he was ready to be done. Granted there was still the Delegate meeting with McGonagall that night, but that wouldn't take too long. Mostly Abbott and Boot talked while he and Granger sat and listened, but so far no one had gotten upset with their lack of participation. McGonagall didn't seem thrilled, but no words had been spoken. Until she demanded more of him, he wouldn't speak in those stupid meetings. He hurried to Transfiguration, not really wanting to see McGonagall but knowing that she would be furious if he didn't show up to class and he would end up hearing about it later.

Transfiguration was definitely more boring than Arithmancy had been that day and while Draco didn't like it, he was sure it was because Granger wasn't there for him to watch every few minutes. Trying to understand what was happening with her was more entertaining that taking notes in McGonagall's class. He respected the older witch, definitely, and she was a good teacher but he had no desire to deal with classes.

But then that one ended too and Draco had nothing better to do than go back to the common room before dinner and the meeting. He might start on one of his assignments, but that would require effort and that wasn't something Draco was willing to give at that moment. He was, however, ready to settle into his chair and spend a few quite hours reading. Or maybe writing a letter to his mother; he'd promised to do that but he hadn't yet. He didn't know what to say; most of what had happened this year had to do with Granger and if his father ever saw that letter, he would be absolutely furious.

He entered the common room and frowned; Granger was sitting on the left side of the sofa as usual, reading her book that Draco was beginning to hate. "This is not happening, Granger. I won't let it," he said angrily, frowning at her and watching her look at him in surprise.

"Malfoy, what are you-"

"I'm not going to let you sit on that stupid sofa anymore, reading your damn books-"

"You don't have any control over my life," Granger said angrily, closing her book and narrowing her eyes at him. "We're not friends or anything like that; you have no right-"

Draco narrowed his eyes too and his frown deepened. "I don't care what we're not, Granger. You look like death, and I can't-I mean I won't let... Just go to bed, Granger!"

"It's not even four-"

"I don't give a damn what time it is," he said, anger beginning to grow in his head. She wasn't listening and she wasn't taking care of herself; if she didn't someone had to. "Just do it, Granger,"

"Why do you even care?"

"I don't-"

"That's not what it seems like," she stated, frowning at him.

He could only stare at her, wondering why it felt like she was right. Did he care? Did he want her to be okay? No, that definitely wasn't it. He just didn't want to be blamed if something happened to her, as he knew Weasley and Potter would find some way to make it his fault. "Well I don't, okay? I don't. Just drop it, Granger,"

"Well I'm not-" she stopped, coughed for a few seconds, and frowned back at him. "I'm not going to bed, Malfoy. That's a ridiculous request,"

"Come on, Granger, you know you want to-"

"Is this about getting me out of the common room? So you don't have to be around me?"

"What?"

"You don't want to be around me because I'm muggleborn. Or a Gryffindor. Right? That's it, isn't it?"

Draco stared again. It was all he could do not to scream at her about how wrong she was, but screaming wouldn't help either of them. "I don't care about what you are, Granger. I haven't cared for months. If I want you out of the common room at all it's because I don't want to spend my time with someone who looks like they could fall apart any second!"

"I do not look like-" she protested.

"Take a look in the mirror, Granger!" he shouted, storming past her and into his own room. That was why he didn't want to spend any time with her; despite what she might say she still thought of him as the same person he'd been before the battle. He wasn't that person, if he was he wouldn't have bothered telling her to do something that he thought would do her some good. If he was still that person then he wouldn't have tried to defend her when Weasley was making an ass of himself. But even though he was a different person, or at least he was trying to be, he hadn't bothered to take notice of anyone but Granger. Why he didn't understand, but thinking about it would only make him go crazy. Again he wanted to write to Blaise, but he had no idea what he would say. He was tempted to write to his mother, but he could say something wrong and end up revealing that he was thinking about Granger.

He spent the next few hours fuming and attempting to read from his textbook, though it was slow. He hated that Granger thought he was still incredibly prejudiced; he still was, in a way, but not as much toward blood. He wanted, more than anything, to prove her wrong but the only way he could do that was to make her think that they were friends. And that was something he refused to do. Whether it was becoming friends or tricking her that he had a problem with, it wasn't going to happen. And that was the end of his thoughts on that. He'd have to find a different way; if he did small things that made her think differently of him that would work. At least he thought it would.

He went to dinner and was pleased when he didn't see Granger there; maybe she had actually gone to bed at his request, though he was half sure she was probably just in the library. He didn't know Granger well, but he did know that she loved that place.

He didn't really know why dinner went so quickly or why he was already on his way to the meeting, but all he could think of was that at least the day was almost over. Draco didn't want to deal with Boot, Abbott, or Granger because he was annoyed with them all. He got to McGonagall's office and saw that the other three were already there and Granger looked just as awful as she had the last time he'd seen her. She'd definitely been in the library. "Good evening, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall said, nodding at him as he took his seat next to Granger. At that moment he would have rather sat by Boot, as he could feel Granger looking at him, but he refused to meet her gaze. He refused to say a word to her too. Maybe it was childish, but staying silent and not looking at her made him feel slightly better.

"Malfoy," Granger whispered as Abbott began talking excitedly-She wanted a dance, something like the Yule Ball. That had been awful enough; they didn't need something like that now. McGonagall didn't look to keen on the idea either, nor did Boot, but no one was willing to shoot her down. It wouldn't happen, Draco knew, though it wasn't pleasant to listen to. And since he was trying to block out Granger, that was all he had to listen to. "Malfoy come on, can't you just look at me?" He still refused to respond, remaining incredibly childish, but he didn't care that much. "You're being an idiot," Granger muttered.

Draco was tempted to shrug and tell her that he didn't care, but he was too busy staring at McGonagall with wide eyes. "And it might help boost the morale of the castle," she was saying, nodding slightly. "If you give me some time I'll think about it and get you an answer by next week," He could only hope that it was just McGonagall trying to be nice. He couldn't imagine people wanting to go to that. If, on the off chance it did happen, Draco knew there would be no way he would go.

For another half of an hour Draco sat and listened to ideas that he disagreed with; there was only one on his mind and there was no way he would say that idea in front of everyone else. So when McGonagall asked for his input, he simply shrugged and said he had none. McGonagall had sighed then and dismissed them. Boot and Abbott had walked out together, chatting about something Draco didn't care about, and Granger had hesitated before she'd followed them. "Mr. Malfoy, the meeting is-"

"Over, yeah, I got that," he said harshly, standing up and frowning. "I think you should get help for those who haven't dealt with the war well. And make sure that Weasley goes," he said quickly before turning and walking away. McGonagall asked him to stop, but Draco kept going.

He wished, when he got back to the corridor, that he would have stayed behind. "We need to talk," Granger said, her arms folded. She lost the tough look she'd worn when she sneezed again, and Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm serious, Malfoy. I owe you-"

"Nothing, Granger. You owe me nothing, so just leave me alone," he said, his eyes narrowed. He didn't understand why she would have waited for him, even if it was only for a minute, but he didn't want to think about that.

"No, I owe you an apology," she said, frowning. "I shouldn't have accused you of-"

"Granger I don't care what you accused me of," he said, well aware that he was lying.

"You don't?"

Draco was tempted to smirk; maybe she wasn't as brilliant as everyone thought she was. "No, I don't. Just drop it, okay?"

"Well I'm still sorry. I'd really just like for this year to go smoothly, Malfoy. I'd like for us to get along, maybe,"

"I think that's a bit of a long shot," he muttered.

"But we could try, couldn't we? I mean you've already been kind of nice, standing up to Ron when you didn't have to. I could do that for you when all those people try to talk about how you used to be a Death Eater,"

Draco frowned; he didn't know that Granger had discovered that was happening. "You know about that?"

"I've noticed, yes. But we could just work this out, right? Make the year better for both of us?"

He considered it. Strongly, for a moment, he considered shoving her attempt at peace in her face. He didn't need Granger, he didn't need someone who could so easily make him feel awful on his side. But the slightly pleading look on her face and the way she wore that stupid half smile didn't make him want to upset her. "I don't... I guess it doesn't really... Do whatever you want to do, Granger, and I'll just...Well..." he hated not having the perfect response to give her, but he hadn't expected that. He'd expected her to throw something else in his face, not try to make peace. Maybe that was something he needed to do; if he was at peace with Granger then maybe he wouldn't feel as guilty as to what had happened with her at his home.

"I'll take that for a yes," Granger said quietly, nodding slightly. "We'll just keep the peace, okay? Nothing more, nothing less. Deal?"

"I guess," he said, shrugging. Draco didn't wait for her to say anything else; he wasn't sure what to make of the sudden agreement so he hurried to the common room and into his bedroom. Thinking about the deal was unwanted but he couldn't stop either, and thinking in private was a lot easier.

It took a few hours for him to realize that he was slightly okay with the idea, and by that time it was just past midnight and he was ready to get some sleep. He finally changed out of his school robes and into his pajamas, laying down in bed. It was actually decent in his room and he knew that he would get a good night's rest. He was seconds away from closing his eyes when he heard a quiet, muffled scream. Had he been thinking or sleeping he was sure he wouldn't have heard it, but he had. And it took him a moment to realize that he knew that scream.

Draco nearly jumped off his bed and hurried out of his room. He stared at Granger's door, wondering if he should knock and ask if she was all right, if she'd had another flashback, even though that would make it seem like he cared. Maybe he did, a little, he didn't know. But then her door opened and out she came, book in hand and a blanket draped over her arm. She looked shaken and tired and still sick, which made him scowl. "Granger?"

"Malfoy?"