Disclaimer: Plot's mine, that's it, the end

Chapter Four

"all I could think about was monday
And maybe I'll be back around

If this keeps me away much longer
I don't know what I will do
You've got to understand its a hard life
That I'm going through

And when the night falls in around me
I don't think I'll make it through
I'll use your light to guide the way
Cause all I think about is you"

"Landing in London" – 3 Doors Down

Draco woke up smiling. He hadn't had a nightmare the whole night.

"Morning, sunshine," a soft voice whispered from his right.

He turned over to see Lena sitting next to him with her feet up on the bed. He smiled at her – actually smiled. Then, he remembered who he was. He was Draco Malfoy. And no matter how nice she was to him, she couldn't change who he was. That was too much, even for wonder woman.

Lena saw his eyes turn cold. She closed her eyes and steadier her breathing. She knew this wouldn't be easy.

"What are you doing here?"

Lena sighed and got up from the bed. "Wanted to point out to you that even brainiacs lack common sense."

Draco stared at her, caught off guard. What was she talking about?

Lena rolled her eyes. "Hermione. She came in last night ranting about how she needed a good night's rest for the first day of classes."

"Shit! First day of classes! What time is it? What's my first class?" How could he have just slept? He started to make his frantic way to the bathroom. He heard Lena start to laugh. Turning to face her, Draco noticed she was still in her pajamas. Really skimpy pajamas, too, for head girl.

Lena rolled her eyes and walked over to Draco.

"You might want to get ready to. Get out of your whore wear and get ready to face the first day."

"You mean tomorrow?" Lena asked, unfazed by his insult. She kept on coming closer to him, making Draco unwillingly back against the wall.

"What?" he spat, his back against the wall.

"Draco," she began, right up against him, playfully tugging on his shirt, "it's Sunday. We start classes tomorrow."

Draco sighed, aggravated that he was getting her all flustered.

"What's your problem?" he asked angrily, pushing her away and walking to the other side of his room. He pushed back his white-blonde hair from his face; he hardly ever took care of it anymore. It was getting very long.

"My problem?" Lena asked calmly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Yes! I come in at night, you're there. I wake up in the morning, you're there. You don't leave me fucking alone. I never asked to be babied."

"And I'm not babying you, Draco! God, it's called caring about someone, Draco!" Lena said, losing her composure. Something inside her snapped; it shouldn't have.

Draco came closer to her, shaking with anger that he knew wasn't directed at Lena, but he would aim at her anyway.

"Caring isn't real. It's a lie. No one really cares about anyone! None of it's real. Love? Just an excuse for people fucking up their own lives! Friends? Just another way to get hurt. Let someone into your heart, into your life, and they'll only stay long enough to screw up your mind and your feelings, then they leave like everyone else. No one stays and nothing's real!"

Draco's breathing was ragged when the silence entered the room, leaving Lena and Draco locked in a gaze once more.

"Okay, so nothing's real. You know what I think is real?" she paused, voice trembling, but went on without an answer. "Those cuts on your arms? They're real. The pain you feel when there's no one left to yell at because there is no one you can cry to; there's only you and the blade. That's real, isn't it Draco? Those people your father killed? They're real…or they were. Your father's real. This whole war is real. But me and you, we're not real yet."

Draco flinched at her words. She was so honest. And she understood him more than anyone else ever had. He was amazed. But he was hurt. Her words made him remember how it felt – to not exist in a real way to anyone. Pain was real – he only hurt himself. Loneliness was real – he never made anyone else feel alone. There was no one he could leave when they had all left him years ago.

"We aren't real," she continued, voice sounding as if she, too, was on the verge of tears. "We don't hurt people. You hurt yourself, and I just stand on the sidelines. I noticed last year, but I didn't do anything. Not until now. Yeah, now as we scream bitter words at each other, we may not be real. But we came close last night. We were getting closer. I'm not going to let you sink back down into the man people think you are, Draco. So as unreal was it may be, I'm going to care about you, if that's okay with you."

With those words, she retreated from his room through the bathroom, into her own. Draco was left with her words echoing in his head. She had never been more right. He had felt it, last night. But…who he was…

Who you are isn't real, a voice said in his head Lena, she's what's real in your life. He had to follow her. He had no choice.

She was lying on her bed when he walked in, back facing him. It was easiest for him to stay in the shadows and talk to her.

"Why does everyone think I'm so bad?" he asked quietly, reflecting on his years at Hogwarts. True, he had been mean. But he had never been truly evil, not really. Not like his father.

"Besides the fact that you tortured Harry every chance you got?" came her smooth reply. Sighing, she got up and walked to where he was leaning against her wall. Taking his hand in hers, she replied, "Draco, people see the world how they want to see it. They made a hero out of a survivor, and a villain out on someone who simply hasn't learned to survive. Potter survived before he knew what it was, and he keeps on surviving. He's everyone's hero. And you…you don't know how to survive. You don't face evil once every year; you face it every day, Draco. Doing that, it's hard. You're still figuring out how to survive in all that, and somehow, you became the villain. I don't know why, Draco. I don't."

Draco was once again left in awe by her words. He wasn't sure if he really understood it; he wasn't sure if he really understood anything anymore. Slowly, he brought her hand to his face and held it there, looking down into her hazel eyes – the only place he could find warmth, light.

"How can I change their minds?" he whispered.

On an impulse, Lena quickly brought her lips to meet Draco's cold ones. The kiss lasted only a second, and then she pulled back.

"Prove them wrong."