A/N: Sorry updates are coming so slow, lots to do and not enough time to do them. I realize that I've been writing mostly from Draco's POV, but I suppose that's how a lot of this is. The books are our only true insight to his character and we never get in his head or even remotely close to it as we do Hermione. I suppose I just enjoy getting into his character, so you're just going to have to deal with it! Heh I'm kidding, I dearly love my faithful readers. There isn't going to be much dialogue in this chapter, sorry, but it's going to be more introversive (I love that word) and awkward between them for a while. Not too long to get boring, though. I promise. I hope. I'll just see where this takes me.

For almost a month, the two Heads avoided each other at all costs. The only time they came into the vaguest amount of contact was during classes, where they pointedly avoided eye contact and even verbal exchange. Many in their classes were surprised and confused at the apparent 'truce' between the sworn enemies, since Malfoy ceased to even taunt Harry and Ron… that is, when they were there.

Harry and Ron became a popular topic of gossip amongst the students of Hogwarts. Their strange and unexplained absences, for sometimes months at a time, viciously interested every gossip-mongering student in the entire school. Hermione was regularly bombarded with questions about where they were, why they were gone, when they were coming back. It got quite tiring and painfully obvious that she was no longer in their inner circle and therefore never knew where they were going, why, and when they'd be back. People became disgusted with her and she was actually shunned for not knowing any information. It was a dreary and lonely life Hermione lived nowadays, and she spent an alarming amount of time in the library reading and sometimes crying very quietly.

What Hermione didn't know was that Malfoy watched her. Even when he refused to look in her direction, refused to even speak to her, he was always watching. He understood how miserable her life was, and was able to relate in a way. He watched her drag her feet to her classes that she had usually dashed to. He watched her take the farthest seat in the back of the room in every class, and he watched her slowly lose her flushed and lively coloring that he had begun to associate with her. He registered silently that Hermione was despairing, and that he was too.

Even people outside their walls of misery were beginning to notice how drawn and pale the two Heads were. Both of them were more withdrawn and introversive and both of them had dark circles under their eyes. They were suffering, but no one apart from Malfoy and Hermione knew why. In fact, Malfoy and Hermione didn't even realize that they knew what was wrong with them. Hermione thought she was lonely without Harry and Ron, but deep under her conscious mind she knew there was another reason that was far from her two friends that was making her so despondent. Malfoy wasn't exactly sure what was wrong with him. He vaguely understood that somehow, Hermione being depressed was intricately and inevitably linked to his own feelings, but he would never accept or admit it. But this silence was driving him insane.

Hermione is fascinating, he admitted sadly. Wait. When did she become Hermione? Granger, Granger, Granger, that's her name. That is how I refer to her. She is nothing, remember?

Of course I remember, another voice answered. It slipped out. I didn't mean it.

Did I mean it? Oh no, this isn't happening. No, no, no, NO! At this point he slammed his fist on the desk in their common room, sending a reverberating shock through the silence. Hermione, who was sitting across the room from him in the other desk, slowly looked over at him and then turned back to her work. She looked terrible.

Malfoy was stuck. The transfiguration essay McGonagall assigned was atrociously difficult, and he didn't understand how to continue it. Realizing that he had little choice, he said tentatively, "Granger? Do you think you could help me with this essay?" At first she did nothing. Then, she slowly picked herself up and walked across the room.

Quietly, she said "Transfiguration?" He nodded. A little stronger, she continued, "She wants us to write about the advantages of transfiguring oneself into an inanimate object and to define the difference between an Animangus and one simply transfiguring themselves into, say, a chair. I think it's pretty much spelled out for you, what are you having trouble with?"

Draco blinked. "How on earth do you absorb all of this in one bloody lesson?" he exclaimed. Hermione looked wary for a moment, and then gave a half-smile. It was the first smile she had given in several weeks, and her mouth had almost forgotten the strange sensation.

The half-smile broke into a full one and she said, "I just do, now you said you needed help?"

Draco pulled up a chair beside him and said, "Where do I start?" With that, the two began working and conversing briefly between the two of them.

As the night wore on, they kept working and discussing the homework. Draco noticed the color slowly returning to Hermione's face and a bit of the spark back in her eyes. She seemed more animated with every hour, and looked very much alive compared to her state earlier that day.

Maybe she was just ungodly lonely, a voice offered. That'd take a toll on anyone not used to it.

Shouldn't I be happy that she was miserable? Shouldn't I try to make her more depressed, instead of pulling her out of it? The answer was obvious to him, if it wasn't to his thought process. He should have enjoyed her sorrow, delighted in her solitude, but something had changed between them. She was being cautiously friendly and he was being more civil to her than he ever had in his life.

Doing homework has never been as interesting as it is with Hermi—Granger. Not Hermione, He thought irritably.

Hermione looked up to see Malfoy with a concentrated look on his face as if he were arguing with someone, only no one was there to argue with.

Does Malfoy talk to himself, she mused, because that would be quite amusing.

She decided to say something. "Malfoy?" He looked at her, startled.

"What?" he demanded, embarrassed at being caught in his thoughts.

"The last few lines you've written have been scribbles."

He paused for a moment and realized she was right. "Oh," he said vaguely.

"Here," Hermione said. "Let me fix it." She leaned across him onto his desk and erased the scribbled lines from his paper with her wand. Malfoy caught a whiff of coconut as her hair fell in front of his face, shimmering in the sputtering firelight. He had never realized how long and wavy it was.

It's a trick of the light.

"There!" Hermione exclaimed triumphantly, still leaning across him. She turned her head to look him in the face, a grin spread across hers and then they both froze. Realizing how close to him she was, Malfoy found himself unable to think about anything except her face that was mere inches from his. He couldn't control his body anymore. His breath caught in his throat and before he could stop himself, he put a hand on the back of Hermione's neck and pulled her close. Too close. They were much closer than they had ever been before. Her eyes went wide, but she didn't resist him. He had no rational thoughts in his head at the time as he tasted her sweet, spearmint breath. He kissed her very gently, still in shock at what he was doing. Hermione seemed to be shocked too, but she eased into it and kissed him back. She closed her eyes and kissed his lower lip, sinking into his lap from her uncomfortable position of leaning across him and the desk. He deepened the kiss and she slid a slender arm around his neck, pulling herself closer to him. He entwined his fingers in her hair, and there was not enough space between them to fit a piece of parchment. Draco realized how perfectly she fit against him, her 5' 5" frame fitting exactly into his 5' 11".

Hermione was losing herself in him. She honestly could not tell where her body ended and where his began, and wasn't so sure that she ever wanted to be just herself again. The fact that Malfoy had kissed her illuminated everything that she had puzzled and pored over for the past month. They say everything becomes clear in death, and that was how she felt; except Hermione was fairly sure that she was still alive.

If this kills me, then I could die happy, she thought, drowsy with happiness.

Draco didn't know what to think with this. It felt so right, yet he was beginning to realize what would happen to his reputation if word of this got out.

Do I care anymore? He asked himself.

I shouldn't, but part of me does. He knew he was finally being honest with himself and realized what he had to do. He pulled away from her and she gazed at him with content in her eyes.

"Hermione," he started, unsure of what to say. "This can never… amount to anything. It's a lost cause. I'm a lost cause. This was a mistake."

She looked at him and instead of tears, there was understanding and sorrow in her gaze. "I realized that, but did you feel what I did? That there was something—I don't know, special? Did I just imagine that?"

Draco fought back the words "No! I need you with me!" that were rising in his throat like word-vomit and instead said, "You imagined it. I didn't feel anything special. It didn't mean anything, okay?"

Hermione sucked in a deep breath with her eyes closed. "Okay. I can live with that. Thank you for being honest with me." Draco could feel his heart breaking in his chest as she climbed of his lap and walked to her room calmly.

What he didn't know was that the moment her door closed, Hermione cast a Silencing Charm on it and erupted in sobs. She threw herself onto her bed and cried herself to sleep.

Draco walked into his room and sat numbly on his bed, staring out the window at nothing in particular for hours beyond count.

A/N: There you go! Did it in one day! I'm fairly proud. Well, keep reviewing and special thanks to soccerpixie3000 for sticking with me!