After watching Harry walk up the path back to the castle, Hermione turned apprehensively towards Draco. He was sitting on Hagrid's bed, a dreamy expression on his face. He looked harmless at the moment, but Hermione made sure she could easily reach her wand, just in case. She took a seat on the sofa, watching Draco out of the corner of her eye. If Draco hadn't been completely dazed where he sat, it would have been an extremely awkward moment.

"You know," Draco said quietly, his voice light, "I really, really like it here at Hogwarts."

Hermione didn't respond immediately. She decided that it wouldn't hurt to answer. Besides, she was curious as to what having a real conversation with Draco would be like. "I like it here, too," she said, "it's more like my home than my house."

Draco nodded in agreement. "I can't imagine ever leaving. When we met with the heads of our houses to talk about careers, the only thing I could think about being was a teacher at Hogwarts, maybe even Headmaster."

Hermione struggled to hide the expression of surprise that spasmed over her face. "Didn't you want to go to Durmstrang before?"

Draco's face clouded slightly. "My father wanted me to. It was politics that made him consider the change. I never wanted to go. I love Hogwarts. Like you said- it's more like home then, well, home. I would really like to be a teacher here..."

"Nothing's stopping you," Hermione said, turning to face him and tucking one leg under her.

"My father will," Malfoy said, looking a little despaired. "He'll want me to be a professional slacker, a con-artist, a politician, and..." he looked at Hermione then looked away. "He'd love for me to be a Death Eater."

"I see..." Hermione pursed her lips. An expression of anger was coming over Draco's face, so she tried to keep the subject positive. "What would you teach here?" she asked.

"I'm really good at potions," Malfoy said, "but Defense Against the Dark Arts... well; as you can guess I have a bit of experience with the Dark Arts, and therefore can defend myself. And if I become Head Master, some things are going to change around here."

"What would change?" Hermione was genuinely interested now. Who would have ever thought that Draco Malfoy wanted to be a teacher?

"The Slytherins are hated, and that's not good. I'm not going to force people to like them, but I'm going to try and find ways to fix that. We're not bad people... ok, well most of us aren't. We've just got a bad reputation, and we do what we're expected to do. Just like Hufflepuffs are inspired to be nice to everyone, Ravenclaws to be extremely intelligent, and Gryffindors to be brave."

Hermione nodded. He did have a point.

"What do you want to do with yourself? You may be a mudblood, but not even I can deny that you're smarter than any Ravenclaw and as skilled as, well, myself in the use of spells and potions."

Hermione felt her face blush slightly. That was as good a compliment as any. "I don't really know, yet. I've thought of becoming a teacher as well. Joining the ministry would be a waste of my talents I think, unless I join for the Mistreatment of Magical Creatures Board. And there's always, well, becoming an Auror..."

"You'd make a good Auror." Draco stretched out on the bed and stared at the ceiling. "You help Potter with his little bouts with the Dark Lord. Sometimes I think I'd like to be an Auror..."

Though it seemed impossible after this conversation, Hermione was even more surprised now. "But your father..."

"My father," Draco spat, "my father does nothing for a living and lives off of my family's fortune. He is nothing. All he does is threaten people to get his way." Draco sat up and put his back against the wall, crossing his arms moodily across his chest. "I am expected to follow what my father says, to support everything he does, agree with him One Hundred Percent. But I don't. He murders innocent people and follows the man who is going to tear our world apart. He's wrong." Draco pulled his knees to his chest and rested his forehead against them. "My parents have me ruined before I even get a chance. That's why I'm so mean to you. I grew up thinking that your ancestry was everything. My pure-blood parents condemn me as your Muggle parents condemn you."

Hermione couldn't think of something to say to that. This must be the true Draco Malfoy. This honest, human, lost soul that was trapped in a web of politics the day he was born. Now, there was nothing he could do to change it. Especially now- It would be dangerous for him to rebel against his father just as the Dark Lord regained strength. He had to hold his facade for his own safety and for his father's reputation.

"Why do you act the way you do to protect your father's reputation?"

"I want him to be proud of me. He expects nothing but obedience and affection. I do my best for him. But sometimes I fail..." He reached up and rubbed his shoulder, the same he had at the lake. Hermione followed the movement, but before she could ask anything Draco jumped up and started jumping on the bed.

"This is fun!" he said while rising and falling in the air. Hermione, though aware of his condition, couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at him. "Don't look at me like that!" He threw a pillow at her. "You need to lighten up and have some fun!"

"I think I'll pass Mal-"

"Awww, come on!"

"I really shouldn't-"

"Pleeeease?"

"I'm here to take care of you, not play with you-"

"Chicken! You know I can jump higher than you! You're scared!"

"I didn't say that." Hermione couldn't help but smile and was beginning to chuckle.

"C'mon, you sissy!"

"Am not."

"Are too!"

"Am not."

"Prove it!"

"No."

Draco plopped down onto the bed and pouted. "You stink," he said earnestly, crossing his arms huffily.

"I try," replied Hermione absentmindedly as a knock came from the door. She peered carefully out the window to see a tiny elf in a simple blue frock that matched her eyes. Opening the door, she let Winky the house elf in, who was carrying a large tray full of food.

"Harry Potter says that a student is sick, but he cannot go to the hospital wing! 'He is in Hagrid's cabin and he need some food' he says, so Winky brings him food! Winky brings good food for sick students, Hermione Granger, she brings soup and crackers and other good foods!" Winky said while placing the tray on the table. Then she caught sight of Draco sitting on the bed, watching her with interest. "Oh, Hermione Granger! Harry Potter did not tells me and Dobby that Winky was taking care of Dobby's old master!"

"Malfoy's sick, Winky, and we don't want anyone to know. Will you keep it a secret? Will Dobby?" Hermione looked into Winky's huge, electric blue, lamp-like eyes.

Winky nodded. "We is never betrayed Harry Potter or his friends! We is still loyal house elves!"

"Thank you Winky- would you like to have something to eat before returning to the castle?" Hermione didn't like using Winky's sworn loyalty to manipulate her, but the need for secrecy was more important. Despite that fact, Hermione still wanted to treat Winky as an equal.

"Oh no, Hermione Granger, I shouldn't! I is supposed to be back in the kitchens- someone might notice I'm gone and ask questions!" Winky bowed and moved towards the door. "You can trust Winky!" And so she left.

Hermione sighed and moved to the table. She wished Winky had stayed for some food. "You ought to eat, Malfoy, you'll most likely need the energy."

Draco approached the table and sat down in front of his bowl of soup. There was a second bowl for Hermione set across from him, who had missed lunch. "You should call me Draco," he said, eating a spoonful of soup, "since you're taking care of me and all."

"I suppose..." Hermione said, looking down at her food. It was so awkward, sitting in Hagrid's cabin with Draco Malfoy, eating soup and talking about what they want to do with their lives.

They ate in silence, Draco eating monstrously.

When they finished, Hermione did the dishes while Draco looked out the window. His arm was resting on the window frame, and his head rested on his arm. He was staring moodily at the Forbidden Forest, which looked calm and peaceful in the afternoon light. He seemed contentedly lost in thought, and Hermione was happy to do likewise. She curled up on the sofa and began to mull over all that she had just heard.

Hermione thought about this new, honest Draco that she had been introduced to. He was a decent human being, for starters. He had a goal in life, and something holding him back from it. He hated his father and saw the world the same as any non-Death Eater did. He didn't want to follow his father's footsteps. He knew that everything that Voldemort did and will do is wrong. That boy in Hermione's daydreams was coming alive.

She didn't know how long she and Draco were lost in thought, but the next thing she knew, Harry was walking through the door, his schoolbag loaded with books. Draco mumbled a salutation to Harry as he entered, then resumed his brooding at the window. Harry took a seat next to Hermione on the couch and watched the blonde boy stare unblinkingly outside.

"How was he? He didn't threaten you, did he? If he threatens either of us we should-"

Hermione shushed him before he could finish his sentence. "He was fine. He was... friendly. And likeable at that. It's almost like we're in an alternate reality. It's a little scary."

"Likeable? Him?" Harry was slightly incredulous.

"He was extremely likeable, actually. We talked. He told me what he wants to do with his life, and that he doesn't like his father's involvement with Voldemort. It's fascinating."

"Whatever," Harry said, unbelieving. "But I grabbed these books for us to look through. Let's get started- the sooner he's remedied the better."

Hermione nodded and picked up One Hundred Potion-Making Mishaps and What to do About Them. Harry also had a book in his lap and was boring over the table of contents. The first three books contained only references to the effects of Sundragon Venom, but nothing useful. The fourth book said that the same potion that they had made in potions class would cure him. The fifth book was also useless, but the sixth book came in the most useful.

According to How to Remedy Mistakes Made with Remedies, Sundragon venom could be counteracted by the Sundragon antidote. However, the fact that it was homeopathic meant that it would have to get worse before it got better. When someone who was not poisoned with Sundragon Venom took the potion, they would have the mood-swings for about an hour. However, someone with the venom in their system could take days. The longer the venom had been affecting the person, the longer it would take the antidote to work.

"How long has he had it in him?" Harry asked.

"Well, he had to have cut himself after Neville fell, which puts it at about this time yesterday. 24 hours. How long will it take for the antidote to work?"

Harry looked at the book and groaned. "Four days. Four whole days of nursing this bloody twit. And on my vacation, too!"

"Well, there's not much else we can do. We'll trade off places watching him. The next few days will be rough, because he's going to get worse. But after that he should get better and better until he's normal again."

"What about at night? I'll have to spend every night with him here!" Harry was looking more and more frustrated by the second.

"Well you can't expect me to," Hermione said, and Harry sighed. "Don't be some glum, Harry, it'll be fun. We can spend all day out by the lake. We can do our homework here. We'd be sitting around doing nothing if not doing this."

"I happen to value my sitting around doing nothing time, thanks," Harry said sulkily, although he knew she was right.