Note: I know nothing about French. Lol, I am taking Spanish, but I'm not fluent in it. About the two twins and their physical characteristics, I'm sorry that has caused such a ruckus. If anybody wants me to change their hair and eyes colors, I would gladly do so. It's not written in stone. After all, it's only a story. I'm sorry I killed of Hermione's parents. We don't ever see from them, anyway. But, I know it's sad. Though, I've never lost a parent before. About the Draco having something to do with Hermione's parent's death, you could say he did, but really I don't think so. All he did was work with Hermione on the project of looking for the ring. Lucius lost it. Even though Draco working with a muggle-born really caused no harm, Lucius didn't like it. So, he complained to Voldemort. Voldemort decided to hurt two of the people closest to Hermione; her parents.

Okay time for some romance!!

Disclaimer: I don not own Harry Potter. But you all know that.

                                                Chapter Twelve:

                             In the moment when I truly understand

"If you look inside me… and let me open myself up to you… you'd see how much more there is to me… than you'd ever know." ~ Don't know

Hermione sat silently at the table, anxiously awaiting Draco's presence. Ever since the night before she had been thinking about him.

Draco was so full of contradictions like night and day. In one moment, he wears all that he is on his sleeve. A pure-blood, a muggle-heater, a Slytherin, an arrogant fool. He puts everyone down. Then when you think you know him so well, and hate his very being; he surprises you. He shows you there is another side to his harsh, bitter day. He has a soothing, calming night wrapped up in that package as well. Someone who would gladly welcome you to cry on their shoulder. Someone t help you through the pain.

Hermione laughed, that didn't sound like Draco at all. Maybe possibly she had gotten a little off on that description.

Hermione heard Draco enter into the library. They weren't going to do any investigation today. They were going to start researching the last two accidents. Hermione was now helping him for two reasons: to help Hogwarts and to distract her from the pain of her parent's death.

Draco sat down in front of her, pulling a folder from his backpack without saying anything.

"Hey, Draco. How was your day?" Hermione tried to make friendly conversation, seeing as his silence was agonizing.

Draco looked different tonight. His hair was not slicked back or in the bed-ruffle state. It hung loosely, reaching down to his eyes. He had a cow-lick (I don't know what you call them. But I don't know how else to describe it. You know where your hair just won't lay in one area.) Hermione noted. His hair parted in the middle, leaving his forehead showing.

Draco had still not answered her question, "Are you okay?" It was in that moment, when Draco sat his quill on the table and his hair fell to the side a little bit; that Hermione noticed a bruise on the top part of his head, just at his temple. Hermione reached her hand out, as if to touch it, but Draco swatted it away. "What happened?"

"My family is different from yours, Granger. You fail. You earn a beating. Simple as that. I failed. I asked for help and then I did not leave you alone. I continued to fraternize with the enemy," Draco calmly stated.

Hermione frowned, "If me helping you is affecting your health. I don't think we should have meetings anymore."

"No, I think we do need to have them. Because, if I don't get the necklace to him. This bruise is little compared to what will happen then. He would kill me."

"I should hardly think he would go that far-" Hermione began.

"No, he would. He would kill me for not helping Voldemort. For dishonoring the family name and crest. For working with a muggle-born. Oh, there are too many things he could pin me for."

Hermione listened in horror. His family was beyond unbelievable. How could anybody kill their own children? It was horrible. She knew now why Draco was how he was.

"I grew up around it-"

Hermione interrupted him, "You don't have to pour your entire childhood out to me. I am sorry for how you grew up."

"Don't be sorry for me. Your pity cannot change anything." His grey eyes watched her. He stood from his seat. I don't want to discuss the necklace right now. Beside we have nothing to go by. No way of finding it. We need another clue. Perhaps then." He stood and left.

My pity may not be able to help you, Draco. But maybe my friendship can…

~

Christmas break was finally here, and Draco did not go back home like he said he wouldn't. Since they weren't having the Triwizard tournament this year, the Yule ball was also not being held. But, a different ball was going on. One devoted to the Christmas holidays.

Hermione sat watching Harry and Ron play wizarding chess. "So, guys. We haven't talked much lately. How are you both?"

"Good," Harry said while contemplating his next move.

"Perfect." Ron smiled as he watched Harry. Ron already knew Harry was going down. No doubt about it.

Hermione smiled, "So, obviously neither of you are going home."

"Nope and unfortunately neither is Malfoy."

"I know," Hermione stated.

Ron looked over at her.

"So, Harry how has your past few games in Quidditch been?"

"Good, we have one with Slytherin as soon as break is over."

"Didn't you already have one with them?" Hermione questioned.

"Yes, and we won last time. Blew them clear out of the water."

With the developing relationship with Draco, which by the way Harry and Ron knew nothing about, she didn't know whether to clap or not. She settled on smiling. "Great, but Harry you never loose."

Ron jumped up, and yelled, "Checkmate!"

"Except at chess," Hermione corrected herself.

"In the moment when I truly understand my enemy, understand him
well enough to defeat him, then in that very moment I also love
him."
-- Orson Scott Card (b. 1951), American writer,
author, "Capitol: The Worthing Chronicle," "Enders
Game"

We cannot tell the precise moment when friendship is formed. As in filling a vessel drop by drop, there is at last a drop which makes it run over; as in a series of kindnesses, there is at last one which makes the heart run over.
~ Samuel Johnson

Note: I know this was a short chapter. Sorry. It was more of a picker up chap. Hopefully, next chapter I will get into the beginnings of the ball. It's not the Yule, I don't want a Yule ball. Just a Christmas one. A little more on the necklace. And maybe some more romance.

My goal is 140. Please help me reach this goal. It's only 15 away from 125. And if you all are really kind I would ask for 145.

Those who don't usually review. Please review!

Your reviews get me through this story.  

Those who want to be e-mailed ~ TELL ME! But if you have already told me, don't worry about it.

~ Midnight Rain~