Disclaimer - Nope. I don't own Harry Potter, or his buds, or his enemies. Ain't that a shame? Oh, but Druidess and Anderson are mine, along with the plot. I'll beat you down with a stick if you steal either.

Pre-Author Notes - This chapter is about double of what the previous chapter was. Sorry 'bout that, but I just couldn't cut it in half! Also, please know that *~*~* means it switches view. The views are between Hermione and Draco. Read on!


Chapter Two - Confession

For the next couple weeks,Draco acted like his normal pratty self. But never towards Granger. They had their own silent respect for each other.

Draco slipped back into remembering how stupid his friends were and how cruel his father was. Events from the previous summer ran through his mind. He cringed.

Sitting in the middle of potions class, Draco zoned out for the first time in a very long time. That is, in Potions.

"Draco?" Snape said his name.

"What did you say, sir? Sorry, I couldn't hear you," Draco lied smoothly.

With a sigh, Snape repeated, "I said you're paired with Granger."
Draco's jaw dropped. What was he supposed to say? He peered at the board. It read one word: Veritaserum.

Minutes later, Draco and Hermione were stirring their cauldrons.

"Well, we were wrong about Druidess and Anderson," Hermione commented, trying to make talk.

"I don't care," Draco said, the words coming out harsher then he meant for them to be.

Hermione fell silent. Draco was thankful. Keeping up an image was getting difficult.


A couple minutes of stirring, and they stopped. They poured some of the potion into vials - two for each of them. Then, four vials were shining with silvery liquid.

"You want to go first, or me?" Hermione inquired nervously.

Draco shrugged, "You can go."
She picked up one of his potions, and reluctantly gulped it down. Draco surveyed her as she fell into some sort of trance. She wouldn't remember anything.. so he asked to his heart's content.

"What's your opinion of me?"
"You're very intelligent, normally a big prat, and not too bad looking."
Draco lifted an eyebrow at her last comment. He didn't think she was too shabby, either. "What's your goal in life?"
"To excel."
"What's your deepest desire?"
"To find true love."
Hermione rubbed her head - a sign she was no longer entranced. Draco was slightly disappointed... he wanted to ask a little further. Then he realized it was his turn. Just dandy.

*~*~*

Hermione looked at him awkwardly, wondering what he asked her. Probably personal things. No mercy.

He took a gulp of her potion, and his gray eyes clouded over.

"What do you think about me?"
"You're a clever muggle-born who hangs around those who don't deserve you... You're also a bit pretty."
Hermione blushed. She didn't think she was pretty. Snapping out of it, she reminded herself she had limited time.

"Who do you love?"
"No one. Everyone I have loved, or will love is dead. Or I can't touch them."
"What's your most secret and darkest sorrow?"
"The death of my mother."

Hermione looked shocked. His mum? She had no idea she was dead. After all, it wasn't in the Prophet. Draco was starting to come back to himself, and he started to realize the look on her face. He looked at her curiously, then ferociously.

"What did you ask, Mudblood?" he exclaimed furiously. Herione shook her head and glared at him.
"So that's what it boils down to, Malfoy? I'm nothing but a Mudblood to you?" she asked sharply, hiding the fact she was hurt.
"You were never anything more!" he yelled impatiently, drawing the attention of nearby pairs.

Hermione felt enraged, like she was slapped in the face. She got up and left the class. Stupid Malfoy.. why did she care what he thought?

When she reached the Great Hall, she looked at the tables. There were House Elves hoisting lunch onto the tables, and Hermione frowned. First Draco - no, Malfoy, she corrected herself, and now this. It didn't seem nearly as important, though.

Dobby caught sight of her, "Miss! Miss! Hello, Miss! Why are you not in class?"
"I left," she muttered in response, not really answering his question.

"Dobby thinks his old Master did, too," Dobby pointed behind her.

Hermione turned around and spotting Draco jogging up to her. She growled and walked away swiftly without so much as a 'good-bye' to poor confused Dobby.

*~*~*

Draco shoved his ex-House Elf out of the way. It made him feel a bit better, but it still was no help as he went after Her- no, Granger.

He snatched her wrist and spun her around. "What did you ask? What's your problem!?"
"What's my problem, Malfoy? What about yours?" she shot back at him.

"My problem... I don't have problems, Granger," he said defiantly, and released her wrist. He didn't think any of them were that bad, anyway.

"Oh? So your mum dying was nothing to you?" Granger snapped, now looking more upset then hurt.

Draco wasn't sure what to say. He backed away from her, as if she was contagious, then growled, "That's none of your business." He left her standing alone near the doors to the Great Hall as he stormed to the Slytherin Dungeons.

*~*~*

Later that night, Hermione turned it all over in her mind. How did his mother die? Why wouldn't he tell her? She wanted to know the secret behind the story.

Unable to stand the mystery any longer, she sprung up from under her covers in her PJs, then slipped down to the Gryffindor Common Room. Everyone had gone to bed already. Good, she thought.

Hermione cautiously peered around corners as she avoided teachers. She nearly stepped on Mrs. Norris, but she was preoccupied chasing after some sort of rodent.

When she reached the Owlery, however, she knew instantly she wasn't alone. Standing by the window, the moon casting their shadow, was someone she knew - someone she didn't want to see right now - Draco.

He turned around to face her, and she could barely see him squint at her.

"Granger?" he whispered.

"I have a name, Draco," Hermione replied. "It's not Granger."
He seemed to have disregarded her comment, "What are you doing here?"
"Walking. Thinking."

*~*~*

Draco nearly asked about what, but he already knew. Instead, he questioned, "Why?"
"I don't know," the answer came. She hesitated, then inquired, "How did she die?"
He took a deep breath. Draco knew this was coming. After his long intake of air, he began on how he came home from school last summer and his mother wasn't waiting for him outside as normal.

"When I came into the house, I heard sobbing. My father came out of the other room. He screamed about how I was a failure, a disgrace to the family name.
"Then he told me I didn't deserve to be a Malfoy. That he should teach me a lesson. My mother came in - she was beaten, and bleeding - and she told him to stop. I couldn't stand it.. she was so delicate.. He hit her, and I hit him, punched him, screamed at him.. but he -"
Draco took a shuddering breath. He didn't want to go on. It was too painful to go back to. Closing his eyes, he recalled and told her about how his father had cursed him with Crucio against the wall and how he had laughed so coldly. Maliciously, he had taunted him and told him to watch.. then he had said two words, and with a flash of green light, his mother had died. She had tears in her eyes, and looked at Draco as if she was sorry. He bit his lip, feeling some of the pain leave him after finally telling someone.

*~*~*

Hermione's eyes filled with tears. Draco just seemed to realize it was her he had told. She was almost like a total stranger to him.

"I'm so sorry. I had no idea," she could see him struggle with tears. Her voice quivered as she repeated, "I'm so sorry."
Suddenly, on impulse, she reached out and embraced Draco. She could feel his lack of response, but she could care less. She breathed in time with him. There were so many emothions bubbling inside of her that she had to express them somehow. She felt Draco raise his arms slowly, then wrap them around her small frame.

*~*~*

Draco had no idea what overcame him. He gave in to her outbreak and felt himself return her hug.

When she pulled away, he was almost sorry he had to let go of her. But it was for the better, he decided. He had to get this out of his head.
He seemed to suddenly take in what just happened. Draco Malfoy, pureblood Slytherin, son of a Death Eater, had just hugged a common, Muggle-born girl.

She looked as if she was struggling with what to say, "What can I do?"
Trying to get back to his old self, Draco snarled, "Nothing." He left the Owlery, sweeping past Hermione. What did she want? There must have been a reason for her kindness.. there was no such thing as kindness without a price. Then, he slapped himself mentally. Why did he tell her?!

But that was a question he couldn't answer.