Hermione recorded the gardener's testimony. After he heard she was from the ministry his grumpy demeanor perked up. He admitted he didn't know much about the ministry or current affairs, he was quite content maintaining the garden and going home at the end of the day. Wasn't at all too interested in wizard politics. Which was perfect for Hermione because he was an unbiased witness, having no personal vendetta against the Malfoys.

Upon further interrogation she discovered that he had heard some of what Malfoy was mumbling and was on his way to talk to him when the Aurors came. He said that the boy was repeating how sorry he was and was apologizing for not being able to protect her and save her from dying.

Hermione's heart lifted, this was perfect evidence. The old wizard agreed to testify in court if he had to, although he didn't seem too pleased about having to go to the ministry.

Hermione finally felt she was on the right track. He's a wizard, he'll be able to testify in court. But she needed something stronger. She needed the name of the death eater that killed Narcissa.

Wasting no time, she returned once again to Malfoy Manor. Something warm was buzzing inside of her. Hope. Passing through the gates, she almost couldn't feel the cold dementors presence as she was alive with determination.

But he didn't answer the door. After ten minutes of incessant knocking, she grew frustrated and decided to open it herself. The Manor was as cold and quiet as it usually is, but there was no shuffling around, no sign of Malfoy anywhere.

"Malfoy? Malfoy?!" Nothing.

She checked the kitchens first, the library, the entire first floor. Hermione grew more nervous by the minute, her hopeful attitude wearing off. Climbing the stairs, she began going through the maze of rooms, calling for him. Until she came to a door that was the only one ajar.

"Malfoy?" She called, still nothing. Creeping closer, she slowly opened the door, somehow afraid of what she would find.

The room was obviously his. A giant four poster bed covered in green and silver silk lay in the middle of the room. Dirty dishes were strewn everywhere, along with robes and towels and god knows what else. The mess was insulting. But perched on the window sill, Malfoy sat, staring out the window.

"Malfoy, why didn't you answer me?"

His eyes did not leave the garden, and he didn't move a muscle.

Being careful not to step on anything, her heels clicked towards him.

"Stop." He croaked, as if he hadn't spoken this whole time, as if he's just woken up.

"But why? I have news."

"No news of yours can help Granger, leave." His coldness swept the room and Hermione felt a pang in her chest. He hugged his knees tighter to himself. Moving sideways, she was able to see his face now.

Bloodshot eyes, disheveled hair. Not different from the last few times she's seen him, but it was. His eyes were empty and sad, not even having the energy to look about the window, just staring in one place. With a start, Hermione realized she was the only one that could help him, in more ways than one.

"I'm not leaving you." Whispering, she moved to sit next to him.

"I said leave." Almost yelling, his eyes started to swell with tears and he angrily wiped them away.

"No!" She screamed. Finally, he looked at her. "I'm not leaving you."

"Why not Granger? Everybody else has. What would Potter and Weasley think about you helping me? Must be a joke for them. A bloody joke for Granger to help me of all people, the one who bullied you for years. Why not just end the charade now and leave me to the dementors?" His lip began to tremble. With fury or pain, Hermione didn't know. "Nobody in their right mind would help me or feel sorry for me. I was a death eater, and I have the mark to prove it. I'm already dead." The emptiness returned, all emotion wiped away like it was nothing.

"Draco, look at me." His eyes flew to hers, surprised that she used his first name.

"I'm not helping you for any gain on my own. I'm helping you because I don't want to see you waste away. You don't deserve Azkaban. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. You may have bullied me for years but I've lived through it, and you can live through this. I know you can." She forcefully put his hand into hers. "You're stronger than you think, and I'll be damned if I let you think otherwise."

The tears erupted, as if tucked away for some time. A gasping sort of crying that left his body shaking. His hand tightened to the point she thought it might bruise.

Hermione, never imagining herself in this situation, felt strange. Scooting closer, she took his head into her hands, placing him upon her shoulder. And Malfoy, for the first time in who knew how long, was hugged, comforted. Hot tears stained her jacket but she could care less. Adjusting his position to get closer, his arms wrapped around her and hers around him.

They stayed like that until his sobs subsided, until his face was dry. Hermione didn't want to be the first to let go, she would sit here all night until he was ready. But he finally pulled away, his face red and puffy. As soon as their eyes met they both burst into giggles. Did she really just hug Draco Malfoy? Did he really just cry in the arms of Hermione Granger?

"If you'd have told me this would happen five years ago I never would have believed it." Malfoy chuckled, but his eyes grew sad again, as if in realization.

"I'm sorry, Hermione." He said her name with a sigh, using it felt strange up on his lips, but also right. Perhaps they would've made good friends, if the circumstances were different. If he grew up different.

"Don't be sorry-"

"No, I mean for everything. I know I didn't take it easy on you at Hogwarts."

"You can say that again." She chuckled. But he didn't, his eyes were serious and softened towards her. She understood what he meant, and felt the sting of his insults and antics vanish. Saw him for who he was, not for who he was trying to be back then.

Taking his hand once more she said, "I accept your apology. It's in the past." Their eyes met, as if they saw each other clearly for the first time. Finally, a smile, filled with hope and clarity graced his once emotionless features.