A/N: I would like to thank: Draco4lyfe, wrc g-rp, Lil' Bode and wingless87 for reviewing, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Also, to anyone who may read this fic... PLEASE REVIEW!!!

Disclaimer: I do not, and never will own the rights to Harry Potter (damn it!)

Draco and Hermione were sitting in the common room in front of the fire talking.

"So you dream things," he asked, "and they happen." Hermione nodded and Draco let out a low whistle. Hermione had spent the last half hour explaining to him what was going on.

"I think I've answered enough questions. Now it's your turn." She stated, "Who were those men and why did they want to kill you?"

Draco looked at his knees. He considered not answering, but he reasoned that she had saved his life and she at least deserved the truth. "They are death eaters." He said bluntly. "They wanted to kill me because I refused to join Voldemort's ranks." Hermione looked surprised.

"You mean you're not a..." she trailed off.

"Death eater?" he finished, when she nodded, he gave a little sigh and said, "No Granger, I'm not."

Although she did not say anything, Hermione was surprised by this revelation. There was no doubt in her mind, until now that Draco was one of Voldemort's followers; after all it was no secret that his father was on the Dark Lord's side.

After a while Hermione's eyebrows knitted together in concentration, at last she finally asked, "There's one thing I don't understand, how did they get into Hogwarts in the first place."

Draco shrugged, and almost smiled at the girls' naivety, "There are ways... half of Slytherin are death eaters, and the other half aspire to be. They probably got help from one of them." Hermione nodded silently, then yawned.

"I'm going to bed," she mumbled and got up, heading towards the staircase. It had been a strange and long night, and up until now she hadn't realised just how tired she was.

"Ok Granger."

She turned around. "Why do you call me that?"

"Call you what?" He asked, confused.

"Granger." She sighed, "My name is Hermione you know." And with that she walked up the last few steps and into her room leaving the blonde boy deep in thought.

Draco Malfoy looked into the fire and let it surround him, as much as he hated to admit it, he was confused. He hated Granger all his life, and she had made it perfectly clear in the past that the feeling was mutual. But she had saved his life, and for that he would always be grateful.

Lucius Malfoy stood in a dark room; it was unfurnished and full of cobwebs. The only clue, which indicated that someone lived there, was the fire burning on the far wall. He was not alone, a man sat behind a desk in the corner of the room.

"You called for me master?" Asked Lucius, not quite looking into the Dark Lord's eyes.

"The boy," Voldemort hissed, "he was not killed."

"He was not in his room," Muttered Lucius, his usually powerful persona fast vanishing under the critical glare of the dark lord.

"That is impossible! I used the spell to check."

"You must have checked wrong." Replied Lucius. As soon as the words left his mouth he knew he had made a mistake.

"SILENCE!" His cold voice echoed the room. "DO NOT QUESTION ME!" Lucius knew what was coming next; Voldemort lifted his wand and muttered, "Crucio!" Malfoy doubled over in pain, but made no noise, being used to such punishment for the slightest mistake, never mind a major failure as this one had been. The Dark Lord was livid and it showed in the force and power of the spell he cast. It drove the blonde man to his knees but the torture did not end until Lucius was on the brink of unconsciousness.

"No one refuses to join me! You shall kill him. Or I will do it myself and kill you in the process for your incompetence!"

Lucius flinched slightly when Voldemort raised his voice, then he nodded. If he felt the smallest bit of remorse for having to kill his own son, he did not show it.

"Now leave!" Voldemort commanded.

Lucius did as he was told.

The next morning Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table with Harry and Ron. The boys were in deep discussion about quidditch, Hermione had a book propped up against the jug of milk and was reading whilst attempting to spoon cereals into her mouth. Neville gave a loud squeak as a package fell on his head; the owl gave a merry hoot, pinched some bacon off the table and flew off. Things seemed to be back to normal.

"So how was it?" Asked Lavender a little too enthusiastically for Hermione's liking.

"How was what?" The head girl asked slightly annoyed at being interrupted from her reading.

"Sharing a common room with Draco of course!" Squeaked Lavender and Parvati nodded, a dreamy expression on her face.

"Have you seen him with his shirt off yet?" Joined in Ginny, ignoring Ron who fell off his seat and nearly swallowed his spoon.

"It's fine. And no Ginny I haven't" She said quickly.

Ron opened his mouth and let out a strangled cry, he shut it again, thought for a moment and opened his mouth, this time managing to for a coherent sentence, "FINE? What do you mean fine? It's Malfoy you know!"

"Oh." She said, "In that case it was terrible," and with that resumed reading her book and refused to say any more on the matter.

A while later Harry said, whilst prodding her gently with his fork, "come on Hermione, we're going to be late." The girl shoved her book in her bag and followed Harry out of the hall, half heartedly dragging Ron along behind her who was now complaining he hadn't got to finish his third bowl of porridge.

They walked to transfiguration, happily discussing Hagrid's new infatuation with a female giant friend he had met over the summer. Upon reaching the class, they sat in the back row, waiting for McGonagall to arrive.

As always, she entered the classroom neither early, nor late. Instead, she was perfectly on time.

Hermione gave a little sigh and turned to the page in her textbook, which the teacher had indicated to, and began to read, soon, her worries were forgotten as she dipped into the pages of the book, her thought all focused on learning new things.

When Draco entered the common room later that day, he was disgusted to find the golden trio seated in front of the fire talking in hushed whispers.

"Granger, you know perfectly well no visitors are allowed in here," he drawled half-heartedly.

"Shut up Malfoy!" jumped up Ron defensively. Much to the ginger boys annoyance, Draco smirked but said nothing, "We just wanted to keep her company. We figured she would be going insane having to share a common room with a ferret like you!"

Draco pulled out his wand. Over the years he had been growing increasingly irate with the Weasley boy and now seemed as good a time as any to curse him within an inch of his life. It did not surprise Draco in the least when Potter (forever being a hero) pulled out his own wand and pointed it squarely at his chest, Ron followed his lead. The three stood like that for a moment, immobile, each considering their options when someone interrupted their concentration,

"Ron! Harry! Stop it. Leave him alone," neither paid any attention and continued to point their wands at Malfoy dangerously.

"You don't want to get in trouble because of him do you?" she reasoned, shooting the head boy a dirty look.

"But Hermione..." whined Ron, itching to beat Malfoy to a pulp; however after a moments thought, both boys grudgingly lowered their wands (they refused to pocket them until they had left the company of Malfoy).

Draco merely stood in silence as the head girl convinced her friends that she would be fine, and exchanged goodbyes with them, she then headed up dejectedly to her room, completely ignoring him. He paused for a moment before following the girl up to her room; he did not bother knocking, instead walked in as if he owned the place. Granger was sitting on her bed reading 'Hogwarts a History,' and was completely oblivious to Malfoy's presence.

"Granger, it's not normal to spend so much of your life with your nose stuck in a book," muttered Draco, unable to think of anything better to say. Hermione jumped slightly, but then readjusted her startled expression into a scowl,

"What do you want Malfoy?" she thundered. The head girl was in no mood to argue, and wanted to re-immerse back into the pages of her book as soon as possible.

"Nothing in particular," he said blankly, enjoying the annoyed look on Hermione's face. "I just wanted to check if everything was back to normal and we could go back to hating each other."

The girl did not reply, instead she processed what he had said in her mind, she thought carefully, and just when he thought she wasn't going to reply she muttered,

"We could call a truce," her voice was doubtful and she expected Draco to refuse, or perhaps even laugh in her face. Unknown to Hermione, an inward battle was raging inside Draco, in the end however he decided life in general would be easier on his behalf, if they weren't constantly at each others throats. He extended his had and tried not to smirk at the girls surprised face. She looked at it questioningly until he gave a sigh and said,

"Granger, it's a hand," he looked pissed off, "you shake it, and call a truce between us."

"You agree?" She asked confused. Malfoy quirked a brow, and had to muster all the self-control he could to not shoot back a slick reply.

Hermione placed her smaller hand in his and they shook hands.

A week having passed since the head boy and girl called a truce, their relationship remained civil. That is, up until now. "Don't be ridiculous!" Hermione said, attempting, and failing not to raise her voice.

"Stop being so stubborn." Malfoy returned.

The both glared at each other. Hermione and Draco had been pulled out of their last two classes of the day to organise the Christmas dance. At the rate they were going however, it seemed as though they wouldn't even be ready for the following Christmas. They were unable to see eye-to-eye on anything concerning the dance, or otherwise.

"Malfoy, we are NOT decorating the hall in green and silver."

"Why not?" asked the head boy innocently, not willing to give up on his side of the argument.

"Because they are the Slytherin colours!"

"Details, details..." he muttered, waving his hands in the air.

Hermione glowered at him before offering, "how about black and white?" Draco looked thoughtful for a moment. He considered refusing just to further annoy the Gryffindor girl, but decided against this when he saw the dangerous glint in her eye. He nodded his head slightly. Hermione gave a sigh of relief, happy they had finally agreed on something.

The evening passed in much the same way. Disagreements and compromise, it was only once the sun had gone down and the moon was shining brightly in the sky that the two students decided they had worked on the Christmas dance enough for one day, and sat in front of the fire in the common room in a comfortable silence.

Draco was silently thinking over the events of the last few weeks and something occurred to him, "Does Dumbledore know about your dreams?"

Hermione looked shocked, "No. No-one knows."

"I know."

"Thank you Draco, for stating the obvious." She sighed then corrected herself, "except for you no-one knows. And that's the way I want it to stay. People will think I'm crazy!"

"I feel this is a good opportunity for some serious blackmailing," Draco joked.

"Don't you dare Malfoy!" She muttered, unsure weather he was being serious or not, "Besides, you owe me!"

"Calm it... I was just joking." He said, "and why do I have a feeling you're going to remind me that you saved my life whenever possible?"

"Because I am." She grinned.

Hermione was still cautious when talking to Malfoy; she didn't know how to act around him. They had never got on in the past, and that was to put it mildly. Although they had called a truce, she still felt that the smallest thing would set him off and make him angry. Over the last week they only spoke when they had to, and when they did, his voice was neutral. But now, he seemed almost friendly; as if the past six years had never happened. Hermione considered that perhaps the Slytherin Prince had changed after having a brush with death, however she quickly discarded this thought. She just didn't know what to think.

"Have you had anymore?" Hermione looked up confused. "Dreams." He added.

"Oh." She mumbled, "no, and I'm hoping it stays that way."

Draco nodded. He decided he liked talking to Hermione. She still annoyed him sometimes, to be sure, and she seemed to have something against the colour green, (he smiled slightly at this thought). However, she had saved his life, and that was something he couldn't forget.

Draco Malfoy had never been short of friends. He was always surrounded by people who were trying to impress him, and trying to be friends with him, after all he was a Malfoy, and his wealth was no secret. Hermione was different, she just acted like herself. Not for the first time, Draco reflected that the girl just wasn't as bad as he previously thought.

He stifled a yawn, fighting sleep down to the last groggy second, but eventually his eyelids got heavy and he couldn't resist sleep any longer. He was tired, but equally stubborn and didn't want to admit defeat and go to sleep before a girl.

Draco woke with a start as a shark finger prodded him in the stomach; he jumped up and looked around wildly.

"You fell asleep," she stated.

"Oh."

"Maybe you should go to bed," the girl mumbled.

"I'm not tired!" He lied. She raised a brow, and stood up,

"Fine. Well I'm going to bed. Goodnight."

She turned and headed up to her room, as she was leaving she could have sworn she heard him reply, "Good night Hermione."

The Gryffindor head girl smiled and entered her room.

Draco watched her retreating back in silence, the sleep he had been so desperately fighting earlier, had suddenly gone, and now he was wide awake. He had surprised even himself by calling her by her first name. He had not intended to so. It just came out. Draco decided not to ponder this any further and instead stared deeply at the flames of the fire, he enjoyed the warm feeling against his skin.

Outside he showed little emotion, inside he was terrified. He knew that the Dark Lord would be furious that he hadn't been successfully killed. He feared for his own life. He also knew that if they found out that Hermione had been the one to help him escape his fate, she would be killed also. For some reason this thought made him feel even worse.

His father had made it clear to him over the summer that he was a disgrace. He had punished Draco for refusing to join Voldemort, cast endless curses on him, each one worst than the last, but Draco had refused to give in. When Voldemort found out Draco had refused to join him, he was livid, but by then Draco was on the train back to Hogwarts.

Draco was sure he would be safe here no matter what. The first month wasn't yet over and the head boy was already proved wrong.

He stayed up to the early hours in the morning, thinking of the events of the summer, and the indubitable trouble to come.

"No... please..." stuttered the frightened girl. She cowered in front of the Dark Lord, he had his wand raised to her but he wasn't quite ready to kill her yet, he enjoyed torturing her too much. He seemed to get a sadistic satisfaction from seeing his victims squirm and plead pathetically for their lives.

He took a step closer to the girl, she whimpered and tears streamed silently down her cheeks. The girl repulsed Voldemort. He had no particular reason to kill her; he did so just because he could.

"Crucio." He snarled, the girl screamed as the curse engulfed her, she shook violently and opened her mouth to cry but all that came out was a strangled choking sob.

The Dark Lord laughed coldly and he slowly lowered his wand ending her torment. She lay at his feet shaking, small moans escaping her lips, a veil of blonde hair covered her face. Voldemort frowned loosing interest and kicked her with his boot. When she didn't respond he aimed his wand at her heart and shouted the words, "Avarda Kadavra." Green light shot from the end of his wand and hit his victim before she had the chance to protest.

Back at Hogwarts, Hermione Granger woke with a start, she was shivering and every muscle in her body ached, as if she had been the one hit by the curse.