A/N: It's Chapter Two! Ha!

2

"Punishment"

Hermione and Draco hurried down the hall to the empty classroom they had been studying in. It was their punishment for getting into a fight in arithmancy about a week ago. Draco was failing anyway, so Professor Vectra had assigned Hermione as his tutor. During the past week they had been studying, and Hermione had seen that Draco wasn't as evil a person as she had thought him to be.

Flashback

Hermione sat down at the desk and took out her arithmancy books. Draco wasn't there yet. The jerk had probably forgotten about the appointment completely, and Hermione would be sitting there all night, waiting for him, the egotistical, self-centred, inconsider- Draco sauntered into the room. It was apparent that he wasn't at all excited about their situation. He dropped into a seat and pulled out his books.

"Well, Granger, are we going to get started or just sit here?" he asked heatedly. Hermione glared at him, but pulled out the list of assignments they were appointed to finish that night. She and Draco worked for two and a half hours, and every minute seemed to show that Draco wasn't as daft as he seemed. As it turned out, he was only failing because he didn't participate in class. He knew all of the material, but fifty percent of the grade in arithmancy was participation.

"So, you didn't really . . . need a tutor, did you?" Hermione asked.

"No. I didn't," Draco answered, "I wouldn't even be here if you weren't such a know-it-all."

"You didn't have to make that rash comment just because I enjoy studying!" Hermione pointed out.

"Enjoy it!" Malfoy countered, standing up to emphasize his statement, "You would die without it, you nut!"

"Why are you like this?" Hermione asked.

"Like what?" Malfoy snapped.

"Why are you so cruel?" Draco looked taken aback, but he regained his cool composure quickly.

"I was born this way. I was always like this and always will be," he replied, looking down on Hermione as if she were a hair in his mashed potatoes.

Hermione stood up also. Her face levelled with Draco's. She glared at him insolently and shook her head. "No one is born a certain way. They become that way over time, depending upon their upbringings and social relationships," she stated, her gaze softening on the boy in front of her, looking into his eyes. "Something horrible happened to you, didn't it?"

"You come up with that crap on your own?" Draco asked uncouthly, hardening Hermione's sympathetic look in an instant.

"No, it's Eugene Vulgar's life work. Now answer my question."

"Some guy named Eugene studied people for his whole life, and that measly sentence is all he was able to come up with?" Draco asked.

"God! Would you just answer my question already? Did something bad happen to you or not?"

"As a matter of fact, many unspeakable things have happened to me in my life, but if anything, they have made me stronger and capable of dealing with filthy mudbloods like you!"

Hermione backhanded Draco hard across the face, "You rot in hell, Malfoy!" she yelled, grabbing her bag and hastening out of the door.

Malfoy stood in disbelief at what had just happened. That grimy little mudblood had just slapped him and told him to rot in hell, and he was just standing there? Oh no, she was not going to get away with that!

Draco sprinted into the corridor to catch up with Hermione. He reached her side and grabbed her wrist. She grimaced as she tried to wriggle free of his grasp, but he held fast.

"You're-hurting-me," Hermione said, trying in vain to get loose.

"You, little mixed breed, will not slap me and tell me to rot in hell and just head off to your friends to tell them how you got the better of me! Oh no, that's not how it works," Draco said menacingly.

"Malfoy! I'm warning you!" she said.

"You will pay. I don't know how though. It seems I've forgotten to devise a plan for my revenge."

"I will not let you take your anger out on me! Just because your father beat you-"

"How did you know about that?" Draco asked, tightening his grip on Hermione's wrist so that it really was painful.

"Malfoy-stop! You're going to break my wrist!" Hermione pleaded. She was beginning to fear him in all of his anger. Draco had never meant to break any of her bones, maybe leave a few reminder bruises, but not any broken bones. Bone breaking was for Potter and Potter alone. He was the one who deserved it. Harry Potter. On the night that boy had lived, Draco had witnessed horrible things. He had been just a baby, but he still remembered the screams and pleas from that were emitted from his mother. His father had bludgeoned his mother to near death that night. Then, every year that same night, the same abusive man had tried to beat Draco. On the first year after, he had succeeded, but Draco had been wary every year since.

Thinking of these cruel happenings, Malfoy's grip on Hermione's frail wrist had grown lax. Hermione wrenched free, but did not run away.

Draco stood as if in a trance, staring past Hermione.

"Malfoy?" Hermione asked. Draco's gaze snapped back to her, and he narrowed his eyes.

"How did you know that?" he demanded, lunging for her wrist again. Hermione yanked it away from him before he could grab her.

"I guessed," she replied.

"You guessed. You just supposed that my father beat me, but did you ever once wonder why he beat me, or why I hate you, and Potter, and that bloody weasel you both hang around with?" Draco snapped.

"No, I didn't really think of that, but I am now, so why don't you just tell me?"

"Potter. Potter is the reason for all of it. He almost killed my mother, and I once."

"What? Harry never did anything to you!" Hermione exclaimed.

"He lived! That's what he did! There was chaos in my house that night and every year after! It was his fault he had to be 'the boy who lived,' and now, he's famous for being a hero and defeating You-Know-Who every year!" Draco almost yelled.

Hermione stared at him in awe. "What do you mean 'chaos'?" she asked.

"Chaos! As in, my father nearly killed my mother, and then he tried to kill me! I'll never forget her screams and pleading the night she almost died!"

Hermione's eyes widened. This story sounded so much like Harry's story: his mother's pleas and screams, the small child who would remember it all.

Tears welled up in her eyes. She had never known how horrible Draco's life had been. She had guessed that he had had some rough patches throughout his existence, but she had never imagined that he had suffered almost as much as Harry.

"What?" Draco asked, "Is it that hard to imagine? This is what you wanted, right: to know why I'm so screwed up? Well, Granger, there it is!" he roughly pushed his sleeve up, revealing a jagged scar that travelled up the length of his forearm, "See this? This is what I've been forced to do! You got what you wanted, so get the hell away from me before you get caught out of the dormitories this late at night," he finished, pulling his sleeve down and folding his arms.

"Draco, I didn't know you had it so bad. I wouldn't have asked if I had had any clue," Hermione said, a tear of sympathy running down her cheek.

Draco frowned. "Are we doing away with the last name basis then?" he asked.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"You called me Draco," Draco said, still frowning.

"Well, I mean, we never had any 'basis' set up, did we?"

"Well, no, but you've never called me by my first name before. It's always been Malfoy or some other name, but never Draco."

"Well, I guess I didn't think 'Malfoy' would flow properly with what I was about to say, but, um, if you want me to keep calling you by your last name, then I can."

"No, I mean, whatever. I don't care," Draco said, trying to regain his cool aura, but failing.

"I should be going, but I'll see you tomorrow evening, same time, same place. So . . . um, bye," Hermione said, hurrying up to Gryffindor Tower.

End Flashback

They sat down and pulled out their books, as they always did, and finished the evening's studies.

"So, what was up with Weasley? He seemed like he was in pain when I came up to get you," Draco said as he slipped his books into his book bag.

Hermione froze. She hadn't told anyone about her secret practices of legimency and communication through minds. She had thought about trying it on Draco once, but she had decided that she would give one of her best friends the opportunity first.

"I, um, believe he had a headache," Hermione answered, not completely lying. The side effects of a broken mind connection were usually headaches or migraines. To avoid them, you had to break the connection slowly. Hermione had gotten used to the headaches by now, so she hadn't gotten a full blow from the sudden divide, but she had still had a minor pain in her head.

"Oh . . . Hermione, I was wondering if you would-" Draco looked up at Hermione, and his steel grey eyes met hers. There was a long silence, "Are you and Weasley going out?" he finally asked.

"Going out?" Hermione asked. She knew perfectly well what he meant, but she didn't see why he would care.

"Dating, seeing each other."

Hermione flushed. "Well, no, but I don't see why you would care at a-" she stopped as realisation hit her. She turned an even brighter pink.

"Would you like to go to the Graduation Ball with me, Hermione?" Draco asked, trying his best to stay calm.

"But I thought you and Pansy-"

"Do you believe the stuff people say during passing? Just because she's the only half decent looking girl in Slytherin does not mean I am in any way courting her. I went to the Yule Ball with her only because my father and hers are well acquainted. I'm not particularly fond of her actually. She's just too . . . let's just say she's not the sharpest tool in the shed."

Hermione frowned. She had hoped that . . . someone else would ask her to the ball, but Draco had asked first.

"Well, then, yes, I suppose I'll go with you. You were the first to ask," Hermione finally decided, gathering her books.

"It will be my honour to accompany you to the ball, Hermione," Draco called to her as she walked out the door.

A/N: Please review. Thankee.