It was only a week later, but the tension between Draco and Hermione left a stony silence over their dorm. Draco sat on the couch, still dressed in his black suit even though he'd been back from his father's funeral for over two hours. It had been small, with very few people attending. He had been the one chosen to give the eulogy. Even he had to admit that it was a charming speech: it was short and it brushed over all the wrongdoings of Lucius Malfoy, Death Eater, and focused on all the good qualities possessed by Lucius Malfoy, husband and father. Draco had been furious with his father for what he had done, but even that couldn't erase the ties between father and son. More importantly, he was furious with himself, knowing that he could have saved Hermione pain.

This is how Draco was sitting, deeply engrossed in his thoughts and staring into the dying fire when Hermione crawled through the portrait hole. Though her eyes were bloodshot, she still looked stunning in a simple black dress covered by a long black wool coat. She hadn't bothered much with her hair, pulling half of it back away from her tearstained face. Draco wanted so badly to reach out to her, to tell her he was sorry. She wouldn't even look in his direction as she made her way towards her room. The situation was getting desperate.

"Hermione, can't we talk?"

"There isn't anything to talk about," she replied tersely.

"The hell there isn't!" He jumped up from the couch and followed her as she ascended the stairs.

"I think everything has been said that needs to be: my parents are dead, as well as about a hundred other muggles, and all of that at your dad's hand. And you knew it, knew it was coming, and did nothing to stop it. End of conversation."

"No, not end of conversation. I'm tired of you walking around here like you're the only one who has lost family, like you're the only one suffering. I can't stand the silence between us anymore. We went from being extremely close to being worse off than we were last year! I'd rather you be flinging insults at me than treating me like I don't exist!"

Hermione flung the curtain to her room shut, but Draco just followed her inside.

"Draco! For God's sake, leave me alone!"

"You're not going to shut me out anymore! You're not going to pretend like nothing has happened between the two of us, like nothing has happened this past week!"

She turned on him.

"And why not? Why can't I pretend that nothing has happened, when you walk around here like a damn zombie, no emotions, not a single tear shed for anything that's happened. You'd think you'd even try to offer me an apology, try to offer someone an apology, but I guess for the hundredth time I've misjudged your character. You are still the prideful, arrogant Malfoy that everyone thinks you are!"

For what seemed like an eternity they stood there, glaring each other down, neither daring to say a word in their fuming anger. Finally, Draco found the words he needed.

"I...I understand that you have been under a lot of stress and that you are going through a lot. But, have you ever stopped to think that maybe I've been going through a lot as well? Hermione, my father is responsible for the murders of so many muggles I couldn't possibly keep count. I can't ignore that, I can't disregard that. But none of those murders change the fact that he was my father. I've told you before, he wasn't the best father, or the best man, but I am still his flesh and blood. And I lost him. I never got the chance to tell him all the things I needed to say. And on top of all that, on top of losing my father, I could have stopped the murder of your parents and countless other people."

"That's right. And you didn't. You knew exactly what your father was going to do, and yet you were too cowardly to turn him in."

"No. I told you that my father often wrote about what he was planning. But I also told you that he never gave me too many details. He said in his letter that he was planning an attack on Halloween. He told me in many of his letters that he was working on something big, something that would really shock the ministry. And I told you that he never carried out these so called big plans. So yes I could have stopped the attack, only in the way that I could have told them where my father was."

"Ok. And you didn't. So if you're looking for excuses or sympathy, you're looking in the wrong place."

"What do you want from me? Do you want blood? Do you want to see me laid out in a morgue like your parents?"

Hermione was horrified.

"No! But you think you'd try to apologize, and you haven't because you're too prideful."

"FINE! For god's sake, Hermione, I'm sorry! I would think I wouldn't have to say that, but I'm sorry. You know I'd never try to cause you any pain. All I've ever wanted was to keep you away from pain, to make you happy!"

Draco began to cry, tears that had been held back for a week. Tears that he had been looking for since his father passed flowed freely, as if the only source of his emotions was found in Hermione. She was the key to his joy, his happiness, his freedom from the name Malfoy, and to turn her back to him was the same as putting a knife through him.

"You say that I haven't cried, that I'm heartless. I've been trying to cry, I've wanted to cry! All this week I've wanted to take you in my arms and cry with you, no, to cry for you, to take away all of your pain and make it my own, but you won't let me! You refuse to let me in, you've been refusing to let me in all this time now! I'm sorry for what my dad did, I'm sorry for what I did. But you know, you know inside of your heart that I would have done anything to save your parents, and that I'd do anything to keep you away from pain. But I've failed. I've failed, and for that I am the most sorry."

He collapsed in sobs on the nearest armchair. Hermione stood, silent tears flowing down her cheeks, her hand covering her mouth. She kneeled down in front of him.

"Oh Draco, I'm the one who should be sorry. I knew that you were going through pain, but I... I was so wrapped up in my own misery I didn't want to think about anyone else. Maybe you should have turned him in but… oh it wasn't fair to blame you. You're not your dad, I know that."

"So you believe me then? You trust me when I tell you that I would do anything to make you happy?"

"Yes, but I don't understand why."

He looked up, his eyes meeting hers for the first time in a week. He reached down, stroking the tears off her cheeks.

"I think you do."

She shook her head, never removing her eyes from his gaze, mesmerized by his soft silver eyes. He looked down at the floor for a moment, taking in a deep breath. Then he looked back into her eyes, his voice barely above a whisper, and gave her his reply.

"Because I love you."

Hermione stood up, the words overwhelming her. She shook her head a few times, shutting her eyes against the truth on Draco's face.

"I-I can't do this right now. I'm going to go... I've got to talk to Harry."

With that, she threw her coat to the floor and walked out of the room without a second glance. Draco sat, staring at where Hermione had been kneeling until he heard the portrait hole slam shut. He stood up and walked to his room, not bothering to undress before climbing into bed. It was still late afternoon, but Draco wanted to be alone. He was lying in bed, replaying the conversation, and when he got to the end he chuckled. It was a sarcastic, dry snort of laughter not born of humor, but of despair. How could he have ever thought Hermione would say it back to him?

"You're a fool, Draco Malfoy. A damn fool."