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Hermione had made her way down into the dungeons of the school. To her surprise, the route she was able to take was completely unguarded. She had her eyes focused on the map as she followed the path towards where she saw Draco Malfoy's name - somewhere deep in the dungeons.

'How odd,' she had thought as she took quiet and careful steps down the turning staircase, 'I imagine this would be much more difficult once school is in session. Hopefully, if all goes well, I won't have to ever know.'

'Very astute observation, Granger. They should give an award at the Ministry for the most obvious conclusion,' Malfoy had slid into her mind. 'Though, I do think you'd have to be a real witch to win such a thing. When are you going to get yourself registered, by the way?' He was snickering in his mind - it was such an odd sensation in her head that she wasn't quite sure how he even managed to do that.

She had heard his thoughts of her arrival playing out in the background of her concentration. She could feel his nerves rise. Thoughts of his hands sweating, how to best present himself, what he should say. What there was even to say, considering they lived in each other's minds. The concerns weren't to impress Hermione - no, he made that quite clear - but rather how he wanted to come across as superior. What was the best way to do that when you're a coward hiding away from the consequences of your actions?

Hermione knew that Malfoy had known the very worst of her thoughts as well. She feared his scathing glares and his judging eyes as he took her in all at once. How he'd say one vicious quip and have her faltering. How she could best put up a front that she didn't care what he thought. To a point, she really didn't care what he thought, but Hermione was human and as much as she wanted to, she couldn't let everything roll off her back. Sometimes she did get hurt.

After descending several flights of stairs, turning around a number of tight corners, and checking that no one was watching, Hermione found herself standing in front of a blank stone wall. No door, no portrait, no indication that anything was there. She, however, knew better. On the map, she spotted Malfoy's feet pacing around behind the wall. For a moment, she was concerned she wouldn't be able to get in.

Suddenly, a door appeared. Malfoy's thoughts indicated he was aware of her presence, and he intended to open the door for her. As Hermione reached for the knob, the door creaked open inward. There, in the doorway, stood Draco Malfoy. Seeing him through less enraged eyes than the last time, Hermione took him in. He was nearly as tall as Ron was - his posture would surely push him over the edge if the two were to stand side-by-by. His shoulders were broader than she had recalled, and just as sharp as always. He stood pin straight, his narrow hips leaning neither to the right nor the left. She took in his black trousers and his off-white knit jumper that seemed to fit him as though they were made for him. They probably were.

Her eyes trailed to his face. He looked tired and gaunt, bruises formed under his eyes where he lacked sleep. It was then that she noticed how much weight he had lost - and how he was using every thought in his mind to keep her from seeing that he knew this as well. All of that aside, he was handsome. Very handsome. With his short, silky, soft blond hair contrasting his sharp, symmetrical features.

Hermione blushed as she realized he could hear exactly what she was thinking. She quickly reminded herself - and him - of how his vileness overrode any bit of attractiveness he had.

She had not heard a single thought coming from him about her. He seemed to be heavily focused on keeping up his own appearances.

"Well?" He drawled in a low tone. "Are Mudbloods like Vampires? Do you need an invitation to enter?"

Hermione noted how different his voice sounded from his thoughts. His voice was much slower and deeper. Much more calculated. She supposed that made sense. She wondered how different her voice sounded than her thoughts. In the same moment she pondered this, she shot daggers at the young man and pushed in past him.

"I see you haven't matured one iota," she stated fussily as she undid her cloak and placed it carefully on a dilapidated wooden chair.

"Hoo, I see someone is still taking enjoyment in using words no normal person would use in a sentence," he teased as she shut the door and flicked his wand. The door disappeared behind him and Hermione suddenly felt small.

"Seriously, Granger?" He shot her a look of disgust and she blushed. "Believe me, the last thing I want to do is waste energy hurting you."

"Yea, well you seem to spend most of your days trying to," she said with a huff. "Unsuccessfully."

"Mostly unsuccessfully," he corrected as he quirked up one side of his mouth in a smirk.

Hermione looked around the room to avoid his eyes as she crossed her arms nervously over her chest.

"Yes, I have the books you've requested," he answered before she could ask. He stalked over to his bed and bent down on one knee to grab the books underneath. Hermione could hear his thoughts about how he felt insecure in her presence, and she felt how quickly he brushed it away. Her eyes fell to the bed and she blushed. This is where he slept.

"Very astute again," he replied to her as he croaked while standing. He had three books in his hand. "You really never fail to state the obvious."

Hermione turned red as she moved a loose piece of hair from her face. "State? I don't state anything to you, Malfoy," she spat as she took two steps towards him and stopped within arms reach. "You invade my personal thoughts and always have something to say about it. As if I want to share any of this with you." She snatched one of the books out his hand and turned on her heel away from him, flipping the cover open.

Inside the Mind: How to Keep Your Thoughts to Yourself, A Lesson on Occlumency.

Malfoy froze for a moment and Hermione heard him thinking.

'Well, of course. If I have to hear her thoughts I'm going to say something about how pointless they are. What does she expect?'

His thoughts paused - he was trying to keep something from coming through.

'How else are you supposed to keep her out?'

Hermione avoided looking back at him. "You know," she started. She closed the book and looked back at him over her shoulder. "I hear a lot of sad, painful, and embarrassing thoughts in your head. It would be so easy for me to comment on every single one. To let you know that I am in every personal thought you have. But I don't."

Malfoy was quick to speak this time. "Yes, well, that's you. I'm not trying to waste any time here, Granger, so let's get moving on with it."

"Fine," Hermione replied curtly. "I hope you know that just because I don't say anything, doesn't mean I don't know everything."

"Right. For the record, this time, you did state the obvious," he said looking at her with a mocking grin.

"Listen," she started as she went to sit on the couch with the book. "If we're going to do," she gestured with her hands between the two of them, "this - then at least while we're here let's have the mutual respect of not commenting on each other's thoughts. It's very distracting otherwise, and I don't want anything to get in the way of this."

Malfoy looked down his nose at her and let out a breathless laugh. Hermione heard him mock her in his mind, the word 'Mudblood' crept through at least twice. He pulled his hands out from his pocket. "I will try my best, I do promise," he said as he placed a hand playfully on his chest over his heart. "But it won't be an easy task."

She knew he was being sincere. It would be hard for him to keep to himself, and she knew he also wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. Hermione patted the seat cushion next to her.

"Well, let's get started then."

Malfoy scoffed as he beckoned the dilapidated chair towards him with a flick of his wand. He looked her in the eyes as he picked up her robes and tossed them to the floor. "I'd much rather stay on this side of the room."

Hermione honed in on his thoughts unconsciously. Malfoy was afraid of her. Well, not of her but of Muggle-borns and Muggles alike. Afraid of diseases, afraid of their wicked ways. Most importantly, he was afraid she'd steal his magic.

'As if I'd ever do that, even if it were true.'

Malfoy snapped his fingers and brought her attention back to him and the task. "If you're going to break your own rule, Mudblood," he growled, "then what makes you think I'll try to follow it?"

"You're right," she said. "I'm sorry."

"Good. Let's get started, then."

Hermione clawed her way back out of the tree knot in anger and frustration. She tried to gain her composure as she struggled to her feet and wiped the dirt from her cloak.

Malfoy hadn't offered a single helpful thought or theory. He'd sat there while she read as he picked at the dirt under his nail. He'd commanded her to read and let him 'know the most useful bits'.

He was having a particularly hard time keeping his thoughts to himself - commenting on every other thought she'd had. When she would snap at him to cut it out, he would say that his mind reacts quicker than he can stop it. If she stopped having such stupid and silly thoughts, he wouldn't be responding so much. When she had taken a moment to wonder if he was doing this to mask the many real thoughts and feelings he was having, he had sent silent daggers in her direction.

Hermione's biggest takeaway from the reading she'd done today was something neither of them wanted to hear. Learning Occlumency to mitigate the bonded connection between two minds was more difficult than learning it without. The two minds are used to one another's presence to the point where one's mind is not foreign to the other's. The best way to learn, in this case, is to be in physical contact with the other party while learning. This reminds the mind and body that there is a separate entity within.

Malfoy had shot up from his chair when he heard her come to this conclusion. He didn't wait for her to gather her thoughts and present it in the best way. "I'd rather die before letting you lay a rotten finger on me," he'd said incredulously.

"Fine, then die. It would save me a lot of time and energy," she snapped back, part of her actually meaning it. She had paused and rubbed her fingers into her temples. "No - I don't mean that."

"Yes you do," he accused. "Why don't you do me a favor and die instead? They're going to kill the lot of you filthy magic thieves anyway. Save me the suffering."

Hermione had been shocked. He meant that with his entire chest, his whole being. And she saw that he knew something about Voldemort's plans that the Order didn't. Extermination. At that moment, she slammed the book shut, put it away in her bag and stormed out.

It didn't go over well.

Now she could hear Malfoy's panicked thoughts of what he'd just revealed and how this would further hinder his ability to get back into Voldemort's good graces. She really had to control her mind to stop the thoughts going forward of how he'd never get back into Voldemort's good graces (if such a place even existed), and how he'd be just as dead as a Muggle-born if he came out.

After taking a moment to compose herself, Hermione took a good look at the knot in the tree and where it was located, before apparating back to the cottage.

Draco was brooding nearby the fire, trying to keep his wild thoughts under control before Granger inevitably went to bed. He hadn't known what he had been thinking when he snapped. His mind was so full of rage that she partly wished him dead - even if it was a small part.

How dare she wish such a thing? She was worthless in the grand scheme of things, and if all went well with the Dark Lord's plans, then she'd be nobody's problem in less than a years' time, and he can rest.

Draco was torn. On one hand, he wanted to get back out there and prove he wasn't a coward. Prove that he could fight for what he believed in - to fight for what's right. To stop Mudbloods from stealing magic from powerful families, and to take back what was rightfully theirs. On the other hand, Draco was certain that he would be killed regardless of the circumstance of his return. He hadn't wanted to kill Dumbledore, and the Dark Lord knew that. He hadn't wanted to let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts, and the Dark Lord knew that.

He was afraid and unsure when push came to shove. And the Dark Lord knew that.

He was a disgrace to the Malfoy family name. His father would rot away in Azkaban, losing bits of his soul day by day. His mother -

Draco gulped.

He'd left his mother all on her own. He wondered if she knew where he was. She surely knew he wasn't dead, given that Snape was still alive. Somehow, that made it worse for him. She knew he was alive and she knew he'd left her on her own. A tear came to his eye and he wiped it away before it could form.

He knew Granger was listening, but he also knew she was working on her potions and probably didn't catch most of what he'd thought. He suddenly conjured Granger in his mind.

She had grown since he last remembered perceiving her. Sure, they had many classes together in sixth year, but Draco had other, more pressing things to focus on that year. He'd also been seeing Pansy Parkinson, so his eye wasn't wandering much anyway.

She was still the very same Hermione Granger he knew from first year. Puffy, brown hair with wild curls. Large teeth - though no longer bucked - that shined brightly when she flashed a smile. They fit her mouth more now than he recalled. Her eyes were the color of the honey he put in his morning tea. Her nose was pointed upright, and splattered with freckles from days gathering herbs in the sun. Her body was trim, and she grew into her shirts very nicely.

He'd be lying if he said she didn't look rather fit. He also knew that she thought the same of him. It's truly too bad that she was such a disgrace and waste of space. There could have been hope for her if she was pureblood - and a completely different person.

Draco snorted as he felt heat from Granger's mind. She'd caught all of that.

The door to his quarters suddenly burst open. Draco leapt to his feet, wand in hand. There, in the doorway, stood Severus Snape. His hair was wild and greasy, his face flush with anger. He looked down his beak-like nose at Draco with his beady eyes.

Draco was breathing heavily as his eyes flitted between the books on his table and the man in the doorway.

"What in Merlin's name was Hermione Granger doing here tonight?"

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