The snow had just started to fall, and classes ended. The trio of friends: Harry, Hermione and Ron were all traveling up the staircases to Gryffindor tower. Their plans were to drop off their bags and go outside to have a massive snowball fight. After saying the password to the fat lady, they stepped inside.

'Hey, I'll be a minute. I need to change.' Hermione called after her as she started up the stairs to the girls' dormitories.

'Why for?' Ron called up; he was having trouble taking off his read and gold tie. Harry stood beside him, and already had his tie off, it sat lying on top of his school bag.

'Ron, I'm wearing a skirt!' She ignored his last comment ('I still don't see why you have to change.') and continued to her bedroom, which she shared with Ginny and Lavender.

Downstairs, Ron and Harry had started up a conversation.

'So what do you think of the new girl, Harry?' Ron chirped, finally dragging his tie over his head out of frustration.

'She was pretty, but…' Harry trailed off. He had yet to tell Ron who he had a crush on. He didn't know if he should even tell Ron his secret crush.

'But What?' Ron pushed. The new girl had been beautiful. She had transferred from Beauxbatons. Her hair was the color of the sun, and eyes as green as grass in the morning dew. She was a little too thin, but Ron couldn't think of a problem with that. Her skin was fair, and it looked soft. Since first laying eyes upon her, he'd longed to touch it. After a moment, Harry answered him.

'She's pretty, but I like someone else.' Harry mumbled. Here it was, the time to let spill. It was time for the truth.

'Who then?' Ron's round , freckled face turned eager.

'Ready? Now, are you boys ready to lose this fight?' Just then, Hermione came back down the stairs wearing jeans and a Winnie the Pooh hoodie the color of vanilla. Her somewhat bushy hair had been pulled back with a ribbon. Her hands were covered in blue and pink mittens.

'Hermione, how on earth do you expect to throw a snowball with gloves on?' Ron demanded, he did not notice Harry's sigh of relief.

'Ron, what are you talking about? I can throw a snowball with these on. And for your information, these are mittens, not gloves. Gloves have singular – '

'Gloves are mittens, and vice versa. They cover your hands, can we go now?' Ron said sounding frustrated. He hated it when Hermione corrected him, which is exactly why she did it in the first place.

Harry had just sat back or rather, stood back and listened to the two bicker. He loved to hear them bicker, they were pointless, and that way he could snicker at them. 'If you children are done, I have a fight to win.' With that, they were done, shoulder to shoulder, the trio left together in a burst of giggles.

Ron was right, it was much harder to throw, but she had nailed Ron in the back of the head, and once she even hit Harry in the face, knocking his glasses askew. When Hermione bent over to pick up a rather big snowball she planned to throw right to Ron and hopefully hit his snooty face. Ron had thrown a well-aimed ball, which hit Hermione in the butt, giving the effect of Hermione had an "accident".

'Ronald Weasley!' She screeched. She rounded off the giant snowball, turned and without looking, threw with all her might, the incredibly wet snowball. It missed Ron by a few inches and hit an innocent bystander in the middle of the shoulder blades. To Hermione's horror, the 'Innocent' bystander turned out to be no other than, Draco Malfoy. As the snowball slid wetly down his back, Draco turned to look at her; his leather jacket swirled in the slight wind. His pale skin was not even tinted with the impossible cold, his mouth fixed in a permanent sneer, but his eyes were burning.

'Watch it, Mudblood. This jacket is worth more than you are.' His voice held more fire than usual. He seemed to be angry, but not necessarily at Hermione, than anything else. Something was bothering him.

'Take that back, Malfoy, before you regret it.' Ron growled, reaching for his wand. Harry grabbed his hand and shook his head.

'Sod off before I let Ron finish what he started.' Harry calmly said.

'As if he could do any real harm, he going to send his plump mother to waddle after me?' Ron was absolutely fuming, his face turned bright red, and he was shaking with anger.

'Why don't you buzz off before I hex you, Malfoy, and I know some really effective hexes?' Hermione challenged, pulling out her wand, she cocked her him to the side to show attitude.

'That wouldn't fix anything.' Draco mumbled so quietly that Hermione barely caught it. She knew that Harry and Draco hadn't. Draco turned and stalked away, but not before Hermione saw the sadness enter his eyes, his face portrayed unbearable pain.

'Go, Hermione!' Ron yelled loud enough for Draco to hear.

'Ron, shut up.' Hermione said rather violently. She turned and started back for the castle, she was no longer in a snowball fight mood. No one else had heard what Malfoy said, or seen the pain on his face. She hated Draco, that was a given, but she was still human, a human who cared about other humans. Although debatable, Draco was human. Something must have been horrible wrong for Draco to break his composure in front of enemies.

Halfway up to the castle, Harry interrupted her thoughts.

'Umm…Hermione?' Harry started, following her. 'What's wrong? I mean, if you're angry at the whole 'Mudblood' thing, don't be, because Malfoy was just being Malfoy.'

'No, Harry, it has nothing to do with that. Did you guys notice anything wrong with him today?' Ron had joined them; he was now in step with Hermione.

'Other than his fat head and pasty skin, he's the same old jerk.' Ron said fiercely.

'Seriously Ron, there was something really wrong with him today.'

'Sorry, Herm, I didn't notice anything.' Harry said weakly.

'Oh well.' Hermione finished. From then on, they silently walked back to Gryffindor tower, al thinking of separate things.

Harry was thinking of his crush. What it would be like to have this pressured feeling off his chest if he just shared his secret with Ron. Harry wanted to fun his fingers through his crushes soft hair, and feel her skin and to taste her lips…'I bet they taste like Raspberries, she seems like a raspberry kind of girl.'

Ron was thinking of ways to desecrate Malfoy. He wanted to rip his lungs out and use them like bagpipes. 'Of course, I'd have to learn how to play the bagpipes first, but that's okay. I'm a fast learner'.

And Hermione was thinking about Draco, he confused her, in all the five years she'd known him, the only emotion he let come through his stone like features was anger and startling calm. 'I wonder what is up with him, he must just be having a bad insult day' Shaking her head, as if trying to shake him out of her head, she stood in front of the fat lady in the pink dress, she was snoozing in her frame.

'Godric' Harry supplied. The fad lady swung open without even opening her eyes, and just barely missed Ron's nose.

'Should we do our Transfiguration homework first or defense against the dark arts?' Hermione asked after stepping through the portrait hole.

Ron looked flabbergasted, 'Can't we at least switch into dry clothes before we jump into our homework?'

'Of course, But!' She stopped halfway to the stairs, and looked directly at Ron. 'Don't get sidetracked, be back in five.' She turned around and missed Ron roll his eyes at her, but she heard his last comment.

'When did she become Mum?'

Sitting in his room, on a plush green and silver chair, was Draco Malfoy. He'd been sitting there all night, staring aimlessly into the fire. The day had been a long and gruesome day. He started his day by waking up with a letter laying on the edge of the bed. He opened it up to find that it was from his dad. His dad wrote to tell him that his mother was dead. Based off the contents of the letter, his mother started a fight with his dad, and then ran off and freakishly, he found her dead in the broom closet. Her wrists had been cut. Draco knew something else had to have happened, Draco suspected that his father had something to do with her death.

Throughout his childhood, his mother had protected Draco from his father, taken beatings for him, healing him when she could not. Then to find out, his mother, his strength was dead…

His mother loved the snow, which was why he was outside that day. He'd been giving his last good-byes to his beloved mother. Then the trio of friends had abruptly interrupted his meditation time. When Hermione stuck up for Ron, he could only think of his mother, and he nearly lost his composure. When they left, Draco had cried silently. No one but his mother had seen him cry, but he could no longer hold it in.

He stood up from the chair and pulled a picture from underneath his pillow. His mom stood by a fountain; her hair wasn't white blonde in the picture but her nature color. Golden brown locks of shiny hair fell around a tan and rosy face. She looked so happy, standing there, smiling and waving at Draco. Who had known that three years later, she'd meet Lucious and change her entire life? Her looks changed as well as all the happiness she once held in her soul. Draco replaced the picture and decided to walk the halls. After pulling on a hoodie, he stepped out of the hole and let his mind as well as body, wander.

After leaving the library, well…after being kicked out of the library by Madam Pince, Hermione was going to pay a visit to Winky down in the kitchens. Reading and humming to herself, she made her way down the hall, turned the corner and smacked right into a blonde hair, gray-eyed boy. They landed together in a heap on the floor.