Hey everyone im sososo sorry about the wait I wont keep u waiting that long for chapter Four I promise! well I hope u like this chapter

Chapter 3:
Everyone in the Weasley family stood up and rushed to see the couple as they got up, dusting themselves off.
"Oh, perfect place to take us, Granger. Are you trying to get me killed yet again?" Draco sneered under his breath.
"I didn't know where else to go," she whispered sheepishly. At the stares of her friends, she raised her voice and started to explain, "This isn't what it looks like...um...well..."
"What Granger is trying to say, but finds herself incapable of doing so, is when she was coming here from where ever she was before, something went wrong and she ended up at my house where..." Draco trailed off, not sure what he should say next. He didn't want them to know about the kiss or about how he had rejected the Dark Mark, hell, he didn't even want to be there. But the fact was, he was there, and he couldn't back out now. H had to and she knew it, this was his mission. Slowly and a bit shyly, Draco started to explain about Voldemort, the Dark Mark he had refused, the order to murder Hermione...everything except the kiss he had shared with the girl on his right.
"Are you saying," Mr. Weasley questioned, looking unsure at the young man standing before him, "that you would rather join the light and fight against the Dark Lord?" Draco only nodded. Arthur smiled; he was wrong to have judged the son by his father.
"Mr. Weasley!" Harry blurted with disgust. "Don't tell me you believe this evil, conniving little ferret!"
"Opposed to believing your sorry ass?" Draco retorted with equal disgust and anger. Harry whipped his wand out and pressed it against Draco's chest, driving the point in hard.
"Give me a reason and, so help me God, I'll do it," Harry spat, narrowing his eyes at Draco, "and you know I can." He noticed, however, that his wand nor his words posed a threat to Draco. Instead of whimpering and cowering like he had done in third year at the hands of Hermione, he tipped his head back and smirked.
"You'd be doing me a favor," Draco breathed to his assailant.
"Are you trying to tell me that you want to die?" Harry said, confused. No one should ever wish death upon themselves, that's not right. But you've thought of it, Harry's conscience whispered mockingly. Yes, Harry said back, I have. But I've experienced true pain, unlike this pampered, self-loving bastard. He's gone through nothing of the sort. Harry, feeling as though his actions were justified, was conjuring a curse, when his bothersome conscience once again spoke up: Or has he?
Right as Draco was about to retort, he was pushed against the wall and someone infiltrated his carefully blocked thoughts. Now let's see why you really want to die, Harry's voice echoed. Draco closed his eyes. Harry searched through the thoughts and memories of his enemy until he found something that interested him.
He saw a little boy who couldn't be older than three crying. It was Draco; he had fallen off his toy broomstick. His mother, Narcissia, was rushing over to pick him up when a man with blonde hair push her away.
"Draco," the man said sternly. Harry knew immediately it was Lucius. "Get off your ass and stop crying." Draco tried to get up but it took him too long. "I thought I told you to get up and stop your damn crying," he barked, yanking his son up which made the young Draco yelp. "I said stop and I mean it!" Lucius spat, venom dripping from his tongue. With that he drew his hand back and smacked his son across the face as hard as he could, while Narcissia watched in fear. The picture soon faded and a new one came into view.
Draco was seven and he was sitting with his mother in a huge room with books covering the shelves. His mother was reading to him, and she handed the book to Draco, saying, "How about you give it a try?" Draco smiled and received the book. Opening his mouth to read, he stopped when Lucius stormed into the room, seething. He looked at the two of them and a smirk formed on his lips- the same smirk that Harry had seen Draco use so many times before.
"Accio Book!" he commanded, and the book went flying into his hands. After reading the title, he whispered something, and the book erupted into flames. "What have I said about muggle things in this house?" he said, his voice soft and murderous. Narcissia stood up quickly, placing herself between her son and the monster she had married.
"It's not his fault," she said meekly. "I wanted to read it to him."
"So it's you who's been filling my boy's head with this shit, " Lucius yelled. "I won't have that done, you bitch!" With a flick of his wrist, Draco was thrown and chained to a wall. Lucius grabbed Narcissia's wrist and threw her down in front of him. "Watch and learn," he said to Draco, smirking. "Your mother needs to be punished."
Draco fought hard against his bonds, trying to reach his mother as Lucius ripped her clothes off. But as he struggled harder, Draco's chains tightened. Completely helpless, he was made to sit and watch while his father raped his wife. Harry felt resistance, but pushed and a new memory appeared.
It was again Draco, but this time at age twelve, who was the focus of this thought. He was chained to a wall while his father stood before him, screaming, "You let a good for nothing mudblood bitch beat you in your studies!" Draco merely watched through half-closed eyes and said nothing. "Well," Lucius said, a little piqued that he hadn't merited a response. "I guess I'll have to teach you a lesson." With a slight movement, Lucius whispered, "Crucio," and Draco shuddered with pain. His body was being ripped apart, but Draco made no sound or voluntary movement. Lucius' anger proceeded to escalate, driving him to repeat curse after curse that tore his son to shreds. With a final flick, Draco's chains were gone and he fell to the floor. Standing, Draco looked up in time to receive a hard punch from his father, and was beaten physically until he was black and blue. The picture faded as Narcissia came in to help her battered son to his room.
In the next one, Draco looked like to be about fifteen years old. He was holding a frail body in his lap and leaning over her face. "Mum, stay with me." Draco said, a faint quiver apparent in his voice. Narcissia beamed at him, though it hurt, and her beautiful smile was hardly apparent through the blood and cuts.
"Draco," she said softly, tucking a piece of his hair behind his ear. "Oh, my handsome Draco, I need you to be strong for me. Okay?" She knew this was going to be the last time she would ever talk to her son. "I need you to be brave." Draco nodded, unable to speak, as he wiped the tears from his mother's face. "I need you to make me a promise so when I'm gone-" Narcissia started, but was interrupted.
"But you're not going to be gone, you're going to stay here with me," Draco said, perfectly knowing that his mother, the only person who had ever given a damn about him, was dying.
"Stop being stupid, Draco. We both know I'm dying. Now," she said, resuming her optimistic demeanor, "Promise me that you will never turn out like your father. I want you to get married and have a lovely life."
"I promise." Draco took one last look at his mother's beautiful violet eyes as she closed them and breathed her last. Harry blinked back tears, but pushed for another. He was, however, rudely interrupted.
"Ow!" Harry cried, dropping his wand and clutching his cheek. "What the bloody hell was that for Hermione?" The occupants of the room stared. Excepting Ron, everyone thought these two were the best of friends. It was unbelievable that she could ever have hurt Harry.
"Could you all excuse Harry and me for a moment?" Hermione asked sweetly, without taking her eyes off of Harry's. "I doubt he'll want everyone to be present for this." They all made a rush for the door- the children going upstairs, Mr. Weasley leading Draco into the parlor, and Mrs. Weasley heading for the kitchens. The moment the door clicked shut, Hermione rounded on Harry, her eyes livid and her face contorted with anger.
"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" she shrieked. Harry winced. "I can't believe you!" Why she had made everyone leave, Harry wasn't sure, because they all could hear her anyway. "You can't just enter people's minds at your own free will!" she screamed. Harry looked up and met her gaze with his own icy one.
"I can and I will," he said softly. Hermione backed down, her anger giving way to confusion and disgust.
"You're not the person I thought you were, Harry," she whispered. "You've changed. You're worse than even Malfoy." Harry shrugged and started for the door. "And we're not the best of friends like I thought, either," she finished, turning away.
Harry turned back, anger rising in him, and took three long steps to reach Hermione. "Well," he yelled, "I'd decided you weren't a friend the moment you chose Malfoy over me!" He left, slamming the door behind him, and ran up to Ron's room. Hermione closed her eyes, and sank to her knees, crying. In one short day, everything she had ever held dear had fallen apart around her.
When she heard a door creak open, Hermione tried in vain to wipe the tears from her eyes. Ginny came over and knelt next to her, and Hermione looked up, her eyes red and watery.
"Come on, lets get you upstairs to my room," Ginny offered, helping Hermione up and directing her to their destination. They got there all right, but Hermione hadn't even reached the bed before she broke out into a fresh wave of tears. Ginny wrapped her arms around her friend and let her cry herself to sleep. When she felt the sobs subside and the breathing even out, Ginny carefully placed her friend's fragile figure on the bed, and went to find The-Boy-Who-Was-Fucking-Up-Everything to see if see could smack some sense into him.

well there it is I hope u liked it! coughreviewcough