A/N: Hi! Thanks to those who reviewed! . this is kind of a short chapter, but...oh well. Hope you like! .

Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing.

Hermione couldn't concentrate one her lunch, instead she stared down at her plate. She felt Draco's eyes from the Slytherin table. She knew he was looking at her, but she wouldn't look up. It was only one day into the school year and Hermione knew that it was going to be a disaster. Instead of eating she listened to Harry tell Ron about his summer, and the weird dreams he'd been having.

"You've been having weird dreams?" Hermione asked, looking at Harry. "That's not good, Harry."

He grimaced. "I know. And, I'm worried about Sirius."

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"Because, I think Malfoy knows it was him, as Snuffles, on the platform yesterday." Harry said gently. Hermione felt her eyes widen, and turned to look at Malfoy. When she did he looked away quickly.

"Oh no, Harry." Hermione said, worried. "I don't think he knows." And with that she pushed away from the table, and walked up to the Slytherin one, everyone watching her.

"What's she doing?" Ron asked Harry. Harry shook his head, his dark black hair swinging side to side slightly.

"Malfoy," Hermione said, "I need to talk to you." Even she was shocked with how bold she was acting. Malfoy laughed.

"And why would I want to talk to you, Mudblood?" He asked halfheartedly.

"I need to talk to you," She said again, getting angry. As she said it she felt a presence behind her.

"May I ask why you are harassing Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Granger?" Snape's deep voice asked. Malfoy got up from the table.

"It's nothing, Professor, really," He said nervously. He grabbed the arm of Hermione's robes and pulled her out into the hall.

"Sorry," he said once they were out of earshot.

"For what?"

"Calling you a mudblood." He said, as though it was the most obvious thing. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"It's nothing new for you, is it? Anyway, isn't the joke old?"

"Huh?"

"Nothing," Hermione said, annoyed.

"Look," Draco said, "You don't know anything, ok? You don't understand. You don't know what my dad would do if he found out I was hanging around a...a..."

"Person with no magic parents?" Hermione helped him out.

"Yeah," he said.

"Right. Wouldn't want to upset your father, would we?" She said. She saw Malfoy's expression change. He lifted the sleeve of his robe. Bruises where scattered across his pale arms. Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"What the..."

"Their from my father," Malfoy said, letting go of the sleeve so it slid back down his arm. "When he found the letters you wrote."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, feeling bad. "You should've said something, I would have stopped writing."

"But I didn't want you to stop writing," Draco said sweetly, something very unusual.

Hermione found herself laughing slightly. "Why not?"

"My holiday's are bad enough. Your letters actually made them a little better. They gave me something to look forward to."

This wasn't the Malfoy Hermione had known from the past four years. This wasn't the Malfoy that always terrorized Harry, Ron, and her. This wasn't the cold, evil, Slytherin Prince. This, Hermione decided, was the real Malfoy. The Malfoy she liked.