A/N: Hey, new story. This is all I'm going to write for now. (but that's subject to change) yah, please read & review, thankee!

Whispers in My Ear

The rain sang softly out the window as Draco reflected on his past. It had just occurred to him that he didn't seem to care anymore, some how he had managed to ball himself up inside a shell and let his arrogance run on without his mind. He hadn't really noticed what he what he was doing, at least, not until he was separate from himself. The world didn't seem to affect him anymore. That day his father had done something that would have "normally" pissed him off, but it didn't matter. He could give his father what he wanted, and he could keep himself. Now, it was just a hollow act, no questioning his own actions. No, curled up inside away from the world he was not a part of it. He was safe. Safe from his father, from the hurtful words; safe from danger and sorrow… and pain: safe was he. The shell was just there for those around him, and he was not a part of it, he was not contained in it's whole. All his actions were as thought of as breathing, which is not at all. But what he was thinking of now was how it had begun, where had it begun?

There was not time to answer that question now. He had already waited too long, put off his task for too long. There was only one thing he had to do before he would be his father's son. One thing he had to do before he sold his soul to a man he hardly knew, but feared greatly. Lucius' son stood up, and put on his cloak, black as night. Taking up his wand he slipped out of the common room. Through many dark corridors he weaved, his task in his mind, eating part of him alive, fueling the other part on.

Too soon, and too late, he came to the door and opened it. He quickly moved in and shut the door behind him with a light slam. The rooms single occupant whipped around to see who had come in. She immediately gave him a glare and a snarl, "Malfoy," she said his name like it was poison, "why are you here?"

"Why do you think I'm here?" said Malfoy with a trade mark smirk. Draco was not a part of this.

Slowly lifting up his wand, Malfoy watched as Granger quickly made a grab for hers. Before she had even blinked he had disarmed her. He could have finished his task right then, killed her on the spot. But part of him wouldn't let that happen, it wasn't the way she ought to die.

Malfoy let out a cruel laugh, "Thought you could fight me did you?" He fingered his wand playfully, in almost morbid fascination.

Hermione was breathing hard and nervously, there had to be a way out! She had let her guard down, and she seriously hadn't expected Malfoy to try anything at school, if at all. Part of her kept prodding that she had secretly believed he wasn't like that. Stupid Hermione! Always caring when it wasn't needed, and when no one else saw anything remotely important in the thing to care about. Sometimes she felt like the patron of lost causes. But part of her still wouldn't believe that this was happening. It was almost funny, in fact it was quite humorous.

Malfoy glared at Granger when she started laughing a little choked, ironic laugh born of desperation.

"What's so funny," Malfoy asked in a dangerous voice, she should have known that would make him angrier, well, maybe that would speed things up.

"Oh, you know," said Hermione stepping forward in a confident way that contradicted the feeling in her gut and her shaky knees, "I was just thinking how silly it was of me to even think of studying when evil ferrets are running about the school making ass wholes of themselves and killing people. Silly me. I wonder if their mothers are proud of them."

He showered her with a great wealth of evil glares, he hissed, "That's a fine thing coming from a mudbl—" but before he could finish she walked up and slapped him. She couldn't stand it when he said thing like that.

At first he just seemed to turn his head aside, and he gingerly touched the red spot that was forming across the side of his face. What happened next left Hermione without a moment to even breath. Malfoy had grabbed her and practically threw her up against the wall, letting one of his hands press dangerously down on her throat, keeping her in place. Now she was scared… really scared. She looked up fearfully into the cold expressionless face in front of her, and watched as he slowly raised his wand and stopped somewhere near her heart. She flinched away, gasping and sobbing a little, but doing her best to hide it. I won't beg, I won't beg, I won't beg! She repeated over and over to herself, but she didn't want to die. So she waited for the whispered words, for the death that was forthcoming, she waited for the end… and she waited…

What was taking the damn bastard so long!

While the Malfoy stood emotionless, ready to end her life, Draco was not. He couldn't do it, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. No! screamed his mind I don't want to do this. Not her, please not her. I never wanted this for her! Didn't we promise ourselves that we wouldn't become this? She was supposed to stay away, to stay safe. Didn't we promise ourselves that before? Didn't you promise me that we would protect her? But why? Because… he couldn't answer that right away, but it was as if her slap had knocked some of himself back into Being Because… I want to. That is what I what! But Malfoy only griped her neck tighter in his conflicting thoughts. No, don't! please… don't. But Lucius's son would not stop, he could not stop himself. His anger turned to desperate pleading with himself, in a small defeated voice. But that would not stop him from gripping her harder. no… and that's when he started to cry, his face emotionless, but his eyes were his.

That's when Hermione looked up to see what was taking so long. And she couldn't have been more surprised to see tears streaming down his face, it made as much sense as Ron deciding it was a good idea to marry a frog. Her surprise turned to fear and confusion, he looked so odd with out any emotion in his face, without a change in his stature or the tight grip around her throat, not once did he lower his wand. But there he was, tears streaming down his face.

Draco could no longer plead with himself, but he tried to reach Hermione. Don't let me do this… don't let me become what I never wanted to be…

Hermione didn't understand. She couldn't see the fight he was having with himself. She couldn't hear his pleading, his hate, his woe. But she could feel it, with the part of her that wanted to believe. And she couldn't stand to see him crying like that. Crying on the inside, and not the outside, no one should have to be that way.

Suddenly, as if moved by a guide, rather than a thought, Hermione reached up, unhindered, and gently wiped away the tears. She marveled as his grip loosened, and he slumped over in exhaustion. His eyes seemed almost glazed over. When his knees gave way, she tried to catch him so he wouldn't fall on her, and when they reached the floor, her grip turned into and embrace.

He hadn't expected her to do that. He hadn't expected her to feel anything but loathing toward him. When she reached and touched him, not with force, but with care, he hadn't known what to think.

So he just stopped thinking.

Now, in her arms, he couldn't help but notice that she felt just the way he imagined, with her soft skin and rough, curly hair he had secretly admired for so long. It should have been easy; it should have been no difficulty in doing what his father had requested on behalf of The Dark Lord. It would have been easy for a Malfoy. But he did not, could not, do it. Now he was too confused.

So, He let Hermione sit there and hold him close the way his mother had when he was young, but no longer would.

He didn't know what to think anymore.

~~~~~~

A/N: So, what do you think? I may write more, but first I need think up why Voldemort wants Hermione dead, and I have to come up with what they're going to do to get out of this situation O_o My motivation may depend on how many reviews I get... so, I pose this question: continue or not?