Why he hated her? That seemed obvious – she was muggle born, he was pure blood, she was a friend of Harry Potter, and his family strongly supported Voldemort. What was there for him to explain?

"The truth is, it doesn't bother me that you are a mud- muggle born. My family's devotion to Voldemort does not represent my own feelings… Because of my father's unique parenting I have found it difficult to break from his shadow," his tone was disconnected and very formal sounding. When he brought up his father a steely glint appeared in his eyes, and his expression hardened. "But now I want to come clean. I don't expect you to ever forgive me, and I will understand if you have no desire to talk to me again…I just wanted you to know, that's all"

Hermione was stunned. That didn't stop her from seeing right through him though.

"So, what you're saying is you wanted to tell me so you could feel better about yourself. Did you honestly think I would buy all that? Really Malfoy… that was a pointless conversation, what did you expect? You just wanted to apologize to me? Why not Harry, or Ron? I have to go meet up with them, you're wasting my time."

She threw open the compartment door. It smashed against the frame, but Hermione was already half way down the narrow aisle. She didn't turn around. If she had she would have seen Malfoy's pale face peering around the door. He wasn't sneering at her, or laughing, but instead he looked worried, almost sad. He definitely wasn't his usual boastful self when Crabbe and Goyle returned to his compartment…

She had to finish this essay "The Biddelia Charm is…"

Lavender was yelling in the middle of the crowded common room. He wasn't really listening to the content of her words, but marveling at the astounding decibel her voice could reach. She was squealing about some trivial incident in the dining hall.

"RONALD! Are you listening to me? I can't BELIEVE YOU!" Ron was staring into the fire, remember not to long ago when Harry had gotten so upset when he and Hermione had asked him to teach defense against the dark arts… and in the fourth year when Harry had been talking to Sirius in the fire and Ron had walked in. Ron looked up at Lavender.

"Honestly, Ron, do you EVER listen…" Hermione… she always said that when she was angry or just thought Ron was being stupid. Ron turned around and started heading to the boy's dormitory, ignoring Lavender's shrieks that followed him up the swirling staircase. He had to talk to Harry; they couldn't all slip apart so easily. But when Ron entered the room he saw Harry's cheek was glued to the pages of an ancient textbook, and his eyelids fluttered rapidly. Ron was about to turn away and go to bed, disappointment clearly etched in his face, when curiosity got the better of him. That wasn't one of the schoolbooks, he and Harry were in all the same classes. What had been keeping Harry up so late each night? Ron slowly extracted the book from under Harry's snoring head. He turned it right side up and began to read

"The following spell is one of utmost difficulty. Only highly trained witches and wizards should attempt it, because it can have many dangerous, disfiguring side effects. The successful wizards who have completed this transfiguration are listed in alphabetical order below, along with the - " A hand came up from the bed and snatched the book from Ron's grasp. Harry's face was wide awake, and livid. He snapped the book shut, hiding the title under his hand, and started in on Ron.

"Ron? What were you doing? Snooping? I thought I could trust you, but clearly not! I was asleep! And you came and took my book! What are you playing at?" His words came out fast and the sentences jumbled. Lack of sleep had left deep hollows under his eyes. His face was white and pasty, and he looked slightly emaciated.

"No, Harry, I just came up here to talk to you - "

"TALK to me? Then why were you standing over me holding my book while I was asleep?"

"No, mate, come on! I saw that you were asleep, so I was moving the book! You had your face resting on it, your drool was sticking to the pages!"

"Yeah, bloody right you were moving it! I guess from now on I'll just have to be a bit more careful around you!" He opened the trunk at the end of his bed and dropped the book in. Not taking his eyes off Ron he rummaged around in his bedside table, eventually locating the key. Then he got off his bed and proceeded to pick all is belongings off the floor. Once everything has in his trunk he slammed the top shut and twisted the key. All the while Ron stood gaping at him.

"Harry, mate, you need some rest," he said in the voice in which one might reason with an escapee from the insane asylum.

"Piss off!" Harry flopped back onto his bed and pulled the curtains shut around him. Ron stared at the crimson velvet for a few seconds before he went off to his bed, feeling considerable worse than he had when Lavender was yelling at him.