Disclaimer: Potterverse belongs to JK Rowling, of course. I only own the plot.

hermione granger

As Draco settled himself to bed that night, the day's events kept replaying over and over in his head. He could not quite get over what had happened and was almost sure that if he were to lay down to sleep, he would wake up and realise it was all just a figment of his imagination. Pulling the covers over his body, he snuggled down to a comfortable position, then turned his head to face the open window. A solitary star shone in the faraway night sky. His mind began playing a perfect memory of his day and it was almost as though he was back at Madame Puddifoot's.

Hermione had gone so stiff she vaguely resembled a glass figurine. Draco moved slightly so he could look at her right in the face. It was a war between their eyes, browns and greys searching each other for explanations within the other. Some semblance of realisation must have misted over them because they were no longer just a boy and a girl in each other's eyes. He could tell by the confused chocolate brown eyes in front of his. The girl had grown into something intricate. Something about her had bloomed in him not unlike a flower shyly maturing into a delicate form. He was the bee to this flower, needing her just as much as she needed him.

They left Madame Puddifoot's in a whirl of intensified emotions. Held hands they did not but rather walked as close to each other as possible, talking quietly all the while. Her silent promise of lending him the listening ear that he needed from her kept him patient as she began the thread by talking about her problems.

"Well, what do you mean they've changed?"

"I mean ... I just don't feel quite as connected to them as I used to all these years. And Ron ..." she cut herself off, looking into the far distance as her eyes became glassy.

Ron. That Weasel. He frowned. She had already informed him she had been seeing the Weasel King for the past year and he was not surprised that he never knew this. Why should he? He hated her. Never bothered once to take even a casual passing interest in Granger's life. But now ... how different things stood. He had become the girl's confidante just as she was about to become his in turn. She gave herself a little shake before continuing.

"I don't know what made him change but he has been so detached lately. He never really cared.." At this point she bit her lip and looked down. Her steps seemed to be carved heavily as though her feet were just blindly mimicking the pair of feet beside her. "Once, we had a little argument. It was so silly .. so stupid. I don't even remember what we argued about but oh, he was so childish! And it just ... went down from there. I tried.. I tried so hard to disregard it and pretend to .. I thought if I pretended to be happy he would stop acting like a prat and treat me better."

"He didn't, did he?"

She shook her head, her massive hair bouncing against her cheeks and shoulders. "He didn't. He never understood my needs, he's just too... self-absorbed with his thick head to notice that I'm just ... not happy."

A soft silence lingered between them for a short while as they turned a corner, taking a few calming breaths of the sweet, cold winter air around them.

"On Halloween night..."

"... he confronted me."

"He confronted you?"

"Said he'd been hearing from 'various sources' that I was with you. That I was so distant from them because I had secretly wanted to form a Dark alliance with you so that you'd be greater than Voldemort ever was. I asked him who the hell would tell him such things about me ..."

His veins tightened. "Pansy."

She nodded in affirmation and ceased talking. Thinking she was just reflecting on her bad luck with relationships, he let slip pass a few silent minutes before casting a sideway look at her, his eyes widening as they took in the tears coursing down her supple cheeks. She seemed to sense his stare for her hands quickly rose to rub the unwelcome wetness off her face.

"Something else happened..."

She nodded again, apparently unable to speak. And yet, he had to admire her strength as she took a shaky breath and her lips parted slowly. "Two summers ago .. I went to a Muggle clinic. And they warded me in a hospital for a week but .. I never told anyone about this. Not even Harry and Ron ... they had other things to worry about."

His eyebrows creased slightly, feeling the familiar sense of foreboding loom over them and he knew this was not going to be happy news. He guided her to a nearby bench and made sure she was sitting down properly before he settled himself beside her. His legs slightly apart, his elbows on his lap and his hands clasped together with his body leaning forward, he turned his head toward her, inviting her to continue any time she wanted to. And time she took. It seemed hours before she resumed in the same wavering tremble, her voice so fragile it threatened to break into a million shattered dreams.

"I am diseased with a hereditary Muggle sickness. When I first got my letter informing me that I am a witch .. my parents stopped worrying that I would inherit the sickness. They thought surely, a witch wouldn't be affected by Muggle diseases?"

She stopped again, exhaling heavily as she hid her face behind the palms of her small hands. He swallowed thickly, realisation upon realisations hitting him from all angles. So that was why she had been such a relentless studious bookworm. She had wanted to make the fullest use of her time before ... he blinked and sat up.

"But..."

Her voice was muffled and heartwrenching. "Now I have only five months left to live."

If anyone had ever doubted a Malfoy could actually have a heart, much less feel, one look at the boy right then would have quelled all doubts. His face was a picture of shock, anger and sadness all mixed up in a jumble of hatred. Hatred he had always felt and never went away. Hatred at how the injustice of diseases claiming innocent victims. Hatred at how the one girl that had recently made sense to his senses had to fall prey to disease. Hatred at how he had let so much hatred consume him before realising this was the one girl who could put him in such an emotional high and turmoil.

Draco snapped himself out of the memory, bringing him back to the present as he lay between the sheets on his bed. The star continued to shine, giving him a small glimmer of hope. He had listened as Granger confessed her troubles and he had decided to say nothing of his own although she persisted. He remembered the looks on several Hogwarts students as they visited a few favourite shops in an attempt to forget what secrets had been shared so intimately between them that day.

He showed no concern to what they thought. He did not care. Walking around Hogsmeade with her had awakened his senses and as they climbed back into the carriage at the end of the day, he finally saw her for who she was. She was not just a girl anymore. She was not just a confidante anymore either. She was his friend and the very idea of having such a friend as she had made him smile. One day, he would tell her his problems and she would in turn become his shoulder to lean on but desperate as he was to expose his skeletons, he had to be patient.

Draco closed his eyes and all worries and thoughts flew out except for one on which he fell asleep upon; Hermione Granger.