A/N: These chapters will probably be all posted at once. Why? Carleen is on vacation. I am all alone... LOL No I'm not but ah well, I write a lot at night and now I have a laptop in my room. Too bad it doesn't have internet. Anyways, the story is starting to get serious. Why? Because, it needs to. Read on, dear reader!

Draco and Ron both lay in cots in the Hospital Wing. Draco stared up at the ceiling with his icy eyes that were colder than the Arctic itself.

"Why do you do that?" Ron asked him, as he bit into a chocolate frog.

"Do what, Weasley?"

"Be so mean. It's not like Neville did anything to you."

"It's my job, Weasley. Why do you care? Don't you hate me?"

"Yes, I do-"

"Then don't ask stupid things!" Draco yelled at Ron as he sat up.

"Touchy aren't we?" Ron jeered.

"Look, I'm not going to waste my time listening to a poor wizarding scumbag who wouldn't even care if I died right now."

"Then I'm going to sleep." Ron lay back down and pulled the covers over his head, and soon enough he fell into a dreamless sleep.

Draco held his head in his hands. He hated himself. He hated the image he potrayed. Who wouldn't? If only his father-

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy," Albus Dumbledore approached Draco's bed. "I need a private word with you."

"Go ahead," Draco said, disrupted from his train of thought, "Ron's asleep."

"I have some very bad news, Draco," the professor addressed him by his first name for once. "As a result of the present situations in the outside world, I am most sorry to tell you that your parents have been killed."

Draco shook his head. "No," he said, "You're mistaken. My parents have protection from-"

"Lord Voldemort, I know. But in fact," Dumbledore bowed his head, "he is the one whom killed them. Please do not take this too harshly. And remember, I am always here if you need to talk."

If only Draco wanted to talk. Hell, if only he could. He had been frozen. Frozen in shock, disbelief and a sudden hate. This hate was even greater than his hate for Ron. This hate was for life. Life could be beautiful, but only if you had perfect parents and perfect friends. Life could be perfect, but it wasn't. Draco's life wasn't perfect. Years of torture every holiday. Years of obeying orders. Years of learning to hate. Hatred, for no reason. Hatred, because his father said so.

A single tear rolled down the Slytherin boys face. He stared into nothingness. And then, Draco disappeared into the nothingness. The shell of Draco sat next to Dumbledore, pale and barely breathing. Dumbledore called for Madame Pomfrey.

"Should we send him to Miss Finkles Young Wizarding Recovery Centre?" She asked, staring sadly at the frozen boy.

Dumbledore sighed. "Yes. He'll get better."

"I'll be praying." Madame Pomfrey put her hand on Dumbledore's shoulder and shuffled off to reserve Draco a spot.

******

Hermione sat in the poufy red couch that sat by the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. She cried silently.

"How come it happens to us, Harry?"

"What?"

"Everything. Beginning this year... Our whole world, it just came crashing down."

Harry sat next to her. "I don't know, Hermy. I guess it's my fault. I really should have stayed friend-less. Then nobody would have to get hurt."

"Except you," Hermione whispered. "I could never let that happen. Harry?"

Harry snapped out of a train or thought. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Being about the worst friend you've ever had."

"You were never a bad friend, Hermy. You were just confused. We all were."

Hermione wiped away her tears. "How do you think Ron will react to the news?"

"Knowing Ron... He'll kill Dean, then kill Dumbledore and then kill me for being an ass to Ginny."

Hermione laughed hollowly. "Do you think everything will turn out alright?"

Harry hugged her close to him. "It always does."

******

The next day, Draco was sent to the Recovery Centre. He was no longer a shell, but Draco refused to talk to anyone. He needed to think. He needed to become someone he hadn't been since he was younger than two. He needed to be Draco, not Malfoy.

The Recovery Centre had a huge yard. Draco sat himself under an apple tree. It was cold out, still late December. His hair was no longer slicked back. That was Malfoy. His sneer was gone. That was Malfoy. He tore away at Malfoy and slowly Draco began to emerge. The real Draco wasn't mean, cruel or abusive. The real Draco was clean, kind and loving.

"Malfoy?" a familiar voice asked. A shadow darkened Draco's view.

"Malfoy is not my name. If I had it my way, it would never be. The Malfoys deserve to rot in the pits of hell." He looked up. "Hullo Ginny."

Ginny sat next to him. "Why are you here?"

"I really don't want to talk about it."

"Well then I'll talk about me. I need to talk. The rest of the people here are mad. I'm going to be going back to Hogwarts soon."

"Lucky you."

Ginny sighed. "I'm just looking for decent conversation, okay? I can tell that you're hurting. I am too. Hell, we're all hurting. What's bothering you?"

Draco looked up and stared up at the sun. "My parents are dead. Killed by the one man who was protecting us."

"That's horrible." Ginny moved closer to Draco.

"I know." He sighed. "It's hard, you know. Living your life as someone else. Someone you hate. I swear if I was someone else, I would kick my ass."

Draco turned to Ginny. As their eyes met, they felt a connection. No, they didn't love each other. It was deeper than love. An understanding. One that broke all the hate. The mystery was gone.

"Mystery's gone, so bring back the sun, bury this hate, build it with love," Ginny sang softly.

"You described it perfectly." Draco put his head on Ginny's shoulder. "I wish I had parents like yours. Ginny... Can I tell you something, that you can't tell anyone?"

Ginny nodded.

"I always was jealous of Ron." He laughed. "I can't believe I'm actually telling you this. You must think I'm a real idiot."

"No, not at all. In fact, I feel for you. You had no control over who you were."

Draco smiled and started crying. "Finally! Someone understands me! Oh god!!! You're going to have to explain to your friends. Especially Ron and Neville." Draco stopped smiling. "I could have killed both of them."

The red headed girl looked up to a cloud. If only she could float away with the clouds. Be free. Forget everything.

******

Harry and Hermione had visited Ron. He now knew everything. Once again, the golden trio were together. Bonded by an in-serperable force that sometimes strectched and twisted, but always remained un-broken. Harry left to go get some food for the three of them.

Ron was sitting up in his pyjamas and holding Hermione's hand. "Hermione," he spoke softly, "I need to tell you something. I've said it before but now I know for sure. I've had time to think, but all I can think about is you."

Hermione nodded and felt the butterflies rise up in her stomach.

"What I'm trying to say is," he paused, "Hermione, I seriously, truly, absolutely love you. I don't think I could live without you."

Hermione started to cry. "I've been a fool, Ron. I really have. I never realized how much I loved you. Love can be denied. It can be forgotten. But it never goes away. Ever."

Hermione leaned closer to Ron and kissed him softly. "I love you, Ron. And I always have."

Ron smiled. Both students' eyes were watery but there was no time for tears. Harry soon came back.

"I heard everything," he said. "I'm happy. It's finally back to normal. Oh and Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"I have to say something and it's hard because I don't want you to kill me. I think I'm in love with your sister. Please don't laugh. It's crazy but Ginny, she makes me feel... It's so hard to describe!"

Ron put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Go ahead and love her. I wouldn't care who she fell in love with as long as they truely loved her. Harry, I can tell. You love her."

Harry smiled and hugged Ron and then Hermione. Harry then got up.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked him.

"To go see Ginny. I can't live without her." With that final word, Harry left Ron and Hermione and went to seek permission to see his true love.