Disclaimer: I do own Harry Potter! I am J.K. Rowling! Muahahahaha! *is tapped on the shoulder by said author* Umm… never mind. *sigh* What do I own? I own the plot. Whoop-dee-doo.

~*~*~*~*~* Chapter 1: The Murder of Narcissa ~*~*~*~*~*

Draco was in Arithmancy when the owl came. Professor Dumbledore came up to the classroom and pulled him out immediately. Draco could see the grief in his eyes, and he looked back to see Hermione with a concerned expression, her gaze piercing his eyes.

He followed Dumbledore to his office, where he was asked to take a seat. Next to him stood Professor Snape and Lucius, both apparently pained.

"Draco," Dumbledore began, "I'm afraid we have just received some terrible news." Draco looked over at Lucius, who walked over and put a reassuring hand on Draco's shoulder.

Dumbledore continued, "It's your mother, Draco. She was killed." He felt Lucius' hand squeeze. He didn't know how to react. He was speechless. "The culprit was a Death Eater." Draco didn't want to hear anymore. He immediately stood up and pried the hand off his aching shoulder. For a second, holding Lucius' hand, Draco connected with his father. He knew that Lucius loved Narcissa with all his heart. And for that moment, Lucius was not the strict, merciless man Draco grew up with. He was the loving, tender father that every child was supposed to have.

Draco was excused from classes for a week. That weekend he went home with Lucius for the funeral.

The sight of my lifeless mother hurt me in unimaginable ways. To see her so pale, so somber, so dead - at first I denied that this woman lying in the casket was my mother at all. My mother was a cheerful woman whose presence always warmed any room in Malfoy Manor. She was always there to comfort me when I once again didn't live up to Father's standards. Now, she was gone. Nothing would ever be the same again.

Draco didn't sleep for days. He lay on his bed in the dormitory, eyes burning holes through the ceiling. It would've been better if he'd have just cried. But he couldn't cry, even if he wanted to. He was emotionless. It was as if he didn't know what to feel. This continued even after he decided to wander the Slytherin common room. All of the students gave him their sympathies, but Draco never showed one sign of sorrow.

I couldn't even concentrate in my classes. I didn't really feel like doing the work. In fact, I didn't really feel like doing anything. After Potions, Millicent Bulstrode asked me if I wanted to play a game of wizard chess, but I refused, claiming I had homework. Truth be told, I had piles of homework due soon, but I wasn't eager to begin. All I wanted to do was lie around, and maybe even sleep. All I could think about was how life at Malfoy Manor. How would I survive over the summer? Mother wouldn't be there to bake me cookies when Father was gone, or tell me that what Father did was wrong, or shield me from Father's lectures…

Of course, Draco doubted Lucius would ever lecture him again. His father had changed since Narcissa's death. He finally realized that something was truly wrong when Professor Snape asked him to stay after class one day.

"Draco," he began. There was a hint of worry in his voice. "Since the death of your mother, your grades have dropped significantly. If you don't do something about it immediately, I can guarantee you are going to fail."

This was just too much. Draco collapsed onto the floor outside the classroom and buried his face in his hands. "I give up," he muttered to himself. "I can't take this anymore."

"And I thought you were a Slytherin." He looked up to find the last person he expected to see in front of him. Hermione kneeled down next to him.

"What do you want, Granger?" Draco spoke with annoyance and distress.

"I'm worried about you, Malfoy. I've been worried ever since your mother's death." He saw concern in her amber eyes.

"How do you know about that?"

"Dumbledore made an announcement." Hermione sighed. "You're depressed, Malfoy, and you need help."

Draco closed his eyes and hung his head. "Mother was the only escape from my home life."

"Look at me, Malfoy." He raised his head again and stared into her eyes. "Whatever it is that used to happen at home, I don't think it'll happen again. I've seen Lucius here. He's been talking to Snape and Dumbledore about you. He's very concerned about you."

"How do you know?"

Hermione cast her eyes downward and gave a little smile. "Well, you should know by now how well the three of us can eavesdrop." Draco smirked.

She offered to help me with my schoolwork, and I reluctantly accepted. I was actually somewhat glad she showed up. As we worked together in the library, I felt myself become a bit happier. It kept my mind off of Mother and Father, and my grades improved. Toward the end of the year, I was truly grateful to Hermione for coming to me after Potions. She brought me back from the dead. As she supported me, I saw things in her that I never thought I would: patience, caring, and a strong will. She reminded me of Mother.

Maybe that's why I fell in love with her…

I admired her strength. Since our first meeting in the library, the word was spread around the school, and in the halls I heard people - mostly Gryffindors - giving her a piece of their minds for hanging around with a Slytherin. Despite their words, she met me in the library day after day. Soon, rumors started that we were secretly dating and Hermione was the victim of harassment. Still, she helped me. She was strong. I would've collapsed under the pressure, being in my fragile emotional state and all.

It was along this train of thought that I noticed something. The reason Hermione went through this torture was because of me and my damn depression. I had to talk to her.

As Hermione walked quickly through the hallways, ignoring the taunts and jeers from her classmates, Draco gripped her arm and pulled her aside. "Listen Hermione," he said, looking towards the floor, "I'm sorry about all this."

"About all what?"

"The ridiculing, the reprimanding, it's all my fault-"

She gazed right into his eyes. "It's not your fault, Draco."

"Yes it is, if I hadn't become depressed-"

"Listen to me, Draco." She placed her hands gently on his shoulders. Draco's gaze lifted as she spoke. "It's not your fault. To lose someone you love very much is heartbreaking. You can't avoid the pain like that. It's not my fault, either. It's everybody else's fault, for being so damn suspicious!"

Her grip tightened, and Draco could tell that she was stressed. Stressed from the extra work, the cruelty of her classmates, and the duties of being a prefect. He delicately took her hands off his shoulders and tenderly held them in front of him.

"You don't deserve to be treated like this," he said. "This is way too much pressure for you. So to lighten your load, I'm going to end our study sessions."

"No, it's okay. Besides, you're-"

"Me? I'm fine. Look at me. My grades have improved dramatically, and I'm apparently more cheerful. Don't worry about me." He gave her a smile, and she smiled back. Then, looking down, she slowly pulled her hands from his grip.

The days passed, and I felt myself sinking again. I could not figure it out. I could not concentrate in my classes, and I felt as if my heart was being pulled to the floor by some unseen force. I spent the better half of each day working the problem out in my head. Why did I start experiencing this so soon after I was encouraged by Hermione? Then the answer came to me. How did I not see it before? I decided to take action, and wrote Hermione a note:

Hermione,

I know that you're having a rough time right now. So I'd like to invite you for a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks this weekend to help cheer you up, as you so voluntarily did for me.

Sincerely,

Draco Malfoy

I borrowed Pansy's silver-colored owl and sent it on its way. Hermione received the note the next morning, when the owls entered the Great Hall with the mail. I dared not look up at her when it came, for I was positive that our staring would become a very uncomfortable moment. Later that day I was joined in the library by a snowy owl. I took the parchment and read:

Draco,

I'd love to go. I'll see you on Saturday!

Love,

Hermione

After a few days of impatiently waiting, Draco woke up to find the bright Saturday morning sun shining through the window. He got dressed and dashed up to the Entrance Hall for the visit to Hogsmeade. This was the day he'd been waiting for. The day that could change his life.

When they arrived, Draco headed straight for the Three Broomsticks and sat down at an empty table. He rested his head on his hands. What in the world was he going to say to her? It'd probably be best just to tell her the truth. A few seconds later, Hermione walked in, her hair chaotic from the windy day. She straightened it out as she relaxed into a seat across from Draco.

He mimicked surprise. "No bodyguards to save you from me?"

Hermione smiled. "I convinced them that I was in no real danger. They're browsing the other shops."

Draco heard the clicking of high heels as Madam Rosmerta approached them. "Two butterbeers?" she asked, setting two mugs of the foamy drink down onto the table.

"Thank you, Madam Rosmerta," Draco replied.

Hermione took a sip. "Ah," she said. "Just what I need. That wind almost froze me in place."

Draco smirked. He sat there in silence for a bit, swallowing the delicious butterbeer and finding the right way to word what he needed to say for her.

"Is there something wrong, Draco?" she asked.

He sighed. How was he going to get this out? "Hermione," he told her, "you were there for me in my time of need. You helped me when I was dangerously ill. And I greatly appreciate it. Thanks."

"You're welcome," she answered, but Draco could tell that she saw something unsaid in his eyes.

He continued. "After the death I saw you in a new light. You remind me of my mother. You care about me, and you kept helping me even when every other person told you not to. I guess that's why…"

"Why what?" She leaned closer to him.

Draco took a deep breath before the words escaped his lips.

"I love you, Hermione."

Hermione managed to look surprised and not surprised at the same time. "Well," she said, "I have to admit that during the hours spent together in the library, I got to know the real Draco Malfoy. I learned that you have a heart underneath your snobbish and judgmental façade. And I learned that you greatly depended on your mum. I realized that you couldn't live without someone like her. Like me."

She paused, and Draco could sense what was coming next. "I guess," she told him, "what I have to say is that… I love you too."

"I love you too." The four words I most wanted to hear that day. They rang through my ears like the church bells at a wedding. My heart was lifted back into my chest as Hermione stood up and walked over to me. I got up, and she wrapped her arms around me, enveloping me in an immense hug. I returned it and buried my face in her shoulder. I felt as if I could cry.

I was so caught up in everything that I didn't hear the door open. Hermione did, and I felt her let go. I followed suit, and found Potter and Weasley at the door, bewildered expressions on their faces.

Harry stammered, "Um, we- we just wanted to- to let you know that it's time to go."

"Really?" Hermione answered. Reading their countenances, she added, "I'll talk to you later." They nodded and waved while she took one last swig of butterbeer.

She turned to face Draco and said, "Thank you for the invitation. It was wonderful."

No," Draco responded, "thank you. Thank you for everything." He placed a kiss on her cheek. Hermione let out a little smile and ran out of the Three Broomsticks.