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

the second step

"She is still unstable. I won't know her proper condition until she wakes up. Right now it looks bad."

Hovering around in the background while watching the gaggle of Gryffindors fuss over an unconscious Hermione did not suit Draco well. 'Wasn't it me who brought her up here? I'm the only one who knows what's wrong with her.' The boy watched the school nurse check Hermione's pulse and after multiple warnings not to touch the patient, bustled into her office. Draco wasted no hesitation in following her.

"What are you doing in here, boy?"

"I just wanted to tell you ..." he trailed off as he noticed what the nurse was doing. "You knew!"

Madam Pomfrey looked up from her task of grinding what looked unmistakeably like the little tablets he once saw Hermione take. Giving him a small smile and a nod, she went back to reducing the tablets to powder and mixing it into a glass of water.

"But ... she said no one knows about her condition."

"Ah. What she doesn't know won't hurt her now, would it?" Smiling again, though gravely this time, Madam Pomfrey motioned for Draco to take a seat before settling down into her armchair. "Miss Granger doesn't know, no. Her parents contacted Professor Dumbledore when they found out about their daughter's ailment two summers ago. Very caring parents they are, not wanting her child to stay here with no one to keep an eye out for her. Your Headmaster arranged for me to be able to acquire the Muggle medical supplies needed for Miss Granger. Medicine, syringes ... honestly, I did not even know how half those contraptions work. Oh, don't worry, I had help learning about them," she added upon seeing Draco's slightly horrified look.

Draco could not believe his ears. All those times when Hermione suffered the brunt of her sickness and they did not know professional help was on hand. His mouth became quite dry as he tried to form his next words.

"Are you and Professor Dumbledore ... the only ones who know about this?"

"Oh, no dear, of course not. Your good Professor has informed all staff concerning Miss Granger's health to make sure if anything happens during classes ... well, she would be taken care of. Your friend is in good hands, young man. Which reminds me, I need to check on her. Will you excuse me?"

Draco let Madam Pomfrey pass and had barely time to digest anything when a hard yank on his arm made him yelp in surprise. Rubbing his sore arm, he looked up to see an irate Potter glaring down at him, silently demanding him to get up and face him.

"Damn, Potter, trying to finish off Buckbeak's work on my arm?" he muttered as he stood up.

"I heard everything."

"Yeah, good for you, then," Draco muttered distractedly as he lifted his sleeves to check, then froze as he slowly looked up at Potter. "Wait ... what do you mean you heard everything?"

"What you and Pomfrey were talking about."

"What exactly did you hear, Potter?" he asked, circling around the boy, who turned to fix his stare on the blond wizard.

"What exactly do you know, Malfoy?"

"Why are you being so inquisitive? Curiousity killed the cat, you know."

"Why won't you tell me what you know about Hermione?"

"I don't know, maybe because Hermione doesn't want you to know. Or Weasley. Or anyone else. Scared of being treated like a charity case."

"Charity case?" Potter's face paled slightly. "Malfoy, tell me what you know."

Perhaps it was the fumes from the nearby healing potions cabinet. Perhaps it was the defeated look on Potter's face. Perhaps it was even the face that his nagging conscience told him it wasn't right for Hermione's best friend to be on the brink of finding out and not be told anything. Perhaps he just needed to talk to someone close to Hermione about her fatal disease. Whatever it was, Draco found himself giving in, sighing slightly before launching into a detailed babble on everything he remembered Hermione ever telling him at Hogsmeade. Finishing his story, Draco avoided looking at Potter - the grievous look on his face was too much for him to handle.

"Look ..." he began awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "You wanted to know and ..."

"Over a month left..." he repeated Draco's words, his voice strained. "How can you be so calm?"

"I'm not calm, Potter. I get panic attacks when I see her having one of her fits. I drive myself silly wondering if she'll make it. Do you know how scary it is knowing she has a ticking timebomb inside her and there's not a damn that I can do about it? She doesn't even want to talk about it and when she does, it's to tell me things like not wanting anyone to cry for her when she's gone. If you love someone as much as I love Hermione, hearing her talk about her dying day is not something to be taken calmly. But what can I do about it? She doesn't want to be treated any different."

"Malfoy, I didn't ..."

"Don't tell anyone you know what's wrong with Hermione. Please, Potter."

The look on the Gryffindor was priceless. Undoubtedly, he was taken aback by Draco's pleading. It's not every day that someone who has been your antagonist for almost seven years suddenly pleads for a secret to be kept. A moment's odd silence settled as he nodded in agreement. Draco leaned back against the wall as Harry slowly sank into the chair Draco occupied minutes before. 'Harry? Since when did I think of Potter as Harry?' And then he felt it. It was strange. Draco felt like he had just forged an alliance with his former enemy. Maybe sharing a secret about a mutual love had something to do with it.

Harry's voice was soft when he spoke next, obviously measuring his words carefully. "How do you keep something like this from everyone? How do you keep yourself from treating her like she's ... fragile? Which she is."

"I don't know ... she made me promise."

"Oh ... I'm sorry."

"What for, you did nothing wrong. If anything, I should be the one apologising."

"What?"

"If there's one thing I've learnt from Hermione ... prejudices are childish. My father was childish. And I let him take me down with him before I realised he was all wrong. I'm not Lucius. There's so much value to be put on life and friendships for childish prejudices to get in the way. And ... I'm sorry for all the wrongs that I've done, and all the wrongs that my father had done. It's not much but ..."

"Boys," Madam Pomfrey reappeared, making the small office feel even more cramped. "Miss Granger has awakened. You may have a small talk with her but she needs her rest. I'll have to keep her under my care for the week. You may go now."

Without a word, the two students left the office and made for Hermione's bed, where she sat propped up on several pillows. Harry took his spot next to the youngest Weasley, then moved over slightly so Draco could have some space. The Head Boy smiled at Hermione and settled for keeping his comments to himself. He watched as little Weasley chatted animatedly with Hermione although he did catch a few glances in his direction, no doubt wondering why he was there. Brother Weasley however had a harder time keeping his anger in check but everytime he tried, he received a frown from either Hermione or Harry.

Draco allowed himself a small smirk at that, then gently laced his fingers through Hermione's. For the next few minutes, he let the conversation roll around with the Weasley's chatter, Harry's words of concern and Brown's slightly inappropriate gossip of the Ball which received a few laughs and smiles from Hermione for some strange reason.

It was well past midnight before Madam Pomfrey seemed to realise her patient was still awake and not resting. Hermione's little group of visitors were chased out by the nurse and with promises to visit her often, they left the hospital wing to their respective common rooms.