I'm tired of playing games, of looking for someone else to blame
for all the holes in answers that are clearly showing
for something to fill the space, was all of the time I spent a waste
'cause so many choices point the same way I was going

so why does there only have to be one correct philosophy?
I don't want to go and follow you just to end up like one of them
and why are you always telling me what you want me to believe?
I'd like to think that I can go my own way and meet you in the end

Draco stepped in the room and looked around. It was nothing like he thought it would be. Instead of Gryffindor color's infused in every available space, there was a blue or black. The walls were black, nothing like the walls in his room, which were sanitarium white.

"What did you want?" she asked, perched on the bed with a pillow clutched to her stomach.

"Umm…" was all that came out, and all that was probably going to come out for a while. "What do you have on?" he asked when she flung the pillow to the head of the bed and buried her face in it.

She answered but all he heard were mumbles. He took the time to look her over. She was wearing some type of shirt that doesn't have sleeve's, he had never seen anything like it. It showed off her back, which had a scar that started on her right shoulder blade and disappeared into the shirt. Looking at her leg's he saw a small scar at the top, where the short short's. Was it the same scar maybe? It looked like it was in the same place the scar would be if it continued all the way down her back. But then again, why should he care?

"Excuse me?" He asked, pulling the black pillow from under her head and throwing it aside.

"I'm wearing pajamas." She answered, looking up at him with tears in her eyes.

"Those are not night clothes." He announced to her.

"Yes they are. My mum bought them for me." She defended.

He looked down at her and sighed heavily. Her eyes were puffy and her nose was running. All in all she looked… disgusting.

"Wipe you're face mudblood." He demanded, the sentence leaving his mouth before he even processed it.

"Go away!" she moaned to him, falling back onto her bed and pulling another pillow under her head.

"I thought you didn't cry?" he asked, truly curious.

Every time he'd insulted her over the years, she either sat there at took it or hexed him. Well there was a slapping incident but that didn't count really, he wasn't even insulting her then. He honestly didn't think she could cry.

"Well I do. Can you go away now." It wasn't a question, more of a demand.

"no." he answered simply, pushing her legs over and sitting down of the edge of the bed.

"I told you not to touch anything!" she shrieked at him.

"Well excuse the hell out of me." He said sarcastically, not really caring that she felt put out, she was crying near him, making him feel put out. Never mind the fact he demanded entrance.

"Will you just leave?" she asked, at least that what he thought she said.

"Why are you crying?" he asked, some how caring a little bit about the answer.

"Why do you care?" she shot back, moving her head slightly to be heard better.

"Why are you answering a question with a question?" he countered, knowing she'd get mad, but a mad Granger was better then a crying Granger.

"Why are you here?"

He sighed and gave up trying to talk to her. He'd just study her room until she calmed down. He glanced around, trying to find a spot to start.

"What's this?" he asked going to her desk and picking up a box with her name written on it. It looked like it was already opened so he flicked the top off and looked inside. "Cookies?" he asked after picking one up and examining the chocolate chip covered exterior.

"Put those down! My mum sent them for me!" she yelled at him.

He was just looking over when the box was snatched from his hand as was the cookie.

"Get out." she demanded, the cookie that was once in Malfoy's possession now firmly in place between the Gryffindor's teeth.

"That was mine!" he whined, reaching for the box to get another one.

She twisted her body away and pointed to the door. The meaning to leave clear in her eyes.

"I'm going to get my cookie, Granger. One way or another."

With the threat hanging in the air, Draco turned and walked out of the Head girl's dorm. He sat on the couch, staring into the fire. He knew going in her room was a bad idea as soon as the door opened to let him in. Why had he gone in there? Before he could think another thought his fathers head popped into the fireplace, he didn't know how his father was doing it but he wished he would forget quickly.

"Draco." his father said in the normal impersonal tone.

"Father." he answered in kind, matching his fathers tone.

"Is the mudblood gone?" his voice was clipped and he sounded on edge, just a tad.

"No, she's in her room." he answered, hoping that would make him leave.

"Good this will only take a minute." no such luck it seemed. "I want you to not speak to the mudblood. She's dirty and will only bring you down. I don't want you to even look at her, she's a filthy excuse for a witch." his father started.

Draco knew his father would rant and rave for the better part of an hour so he sat back and tuned him out. Maybe if his father caught him with Granger he'd lay off him and deem him 'not worthy' to serve the pitiful excuse they call the 'Dark Lord'. Draco thoughts drifted to the girl in question, he'd tried to curb his use of mudblood for the past year. Only when he was very upset did he use it, and then he usually didn't remember it coming out of his mouth, but anyway's back to Granger. No... make that Hermione. She didn't really look as bad as he played her up to be when he thought about it. Her body had filled out nicely over the summer, from the glimpses he'd caught of her in the bathroom and then again on her bed. When he thought back to it, she'd actually looked like someone he'd want to go on with. Her eyes were a beautiful, the color of cinnamon, her hair complimented her eyes. Her nose was small, and was actually cute, when she wasn't crying. Then it turned a horrible shade of pink, he'd work on it though. Her mouth was alright. He'd never really seen it shaped properly to tell the truth. She always had a scowl fixed on her face when it was turned toward's him. So he had that to go on for now. If he played his card right he'd be rid of his father in a week's time all while driving Grang....Hermione mad, either for wanting him or for wanting to get away from him. It was a win/win. He could get the chance to break another girls heart while getting back at his father all at the same time.

"Draco Alexander Malfoy! Have you heard a blasted word I said?" his father's voice boomed from the fireplace, breaking Draco out of his daze.

"Of course." he answered lazily, his eye's darting to the portrait that hid Hermione's room. Maybe she was listening again, if she came out it would be perfect. But the portrait stayed unmoving.

"Draco! I will not be ignored boy." his father interrupted, once again.

"Then leave, father." he snapped, looking his father straight in the eye.

"What has gotten into you?" his father demanded.

"Light." Draco answered, smirking as his father's face screwed up at the word. "I can't stand you father, at all." he ended.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
"Draco? Draco?" he heard a voice say from above him.

"Granger?" he said groggily. "Hermione?" he corrected, remembering his talk with himself.

"What did you call me?" she said, her voice catching.

Draco opened his eyes saw the girl above him, her face lined with what looked like worry.

"What happened?" he asked, moving to sit up but being pushed back down by Hermione.

"You're in the hospital wing. I went into the common room and saw you lying on the floor, you weren't moving. I tried to wake you but you wouldn't even move so I called Dumbledore and he took you to the hospital wing. What happened?" she asked his question back to her.

"I don't remember." he answered truthfully. Chances are his father used their family bond to cause him excruciating pain. He'd done it before when Draco was six and he'd let his hawk out of it's cage before it was properly trained. The hawk had come back to find it's master in bed for a week while he recovered from the beating his father had given him, both mental and physical.

"Well you can't come back to the common room for a couple of days. Is there anything you need out of you're room?" Hermione asked from the side of his bed, where she'd sat down when she was sure he was awake.

"There's a book on my desk, another on my bed." he said, not really asking her to bring them.

"I'll be right back then." she said, standing up and moving away from his bedside. "What's your password?" she asked when she was at the door.

"Draco." he answered back before turning his head and closing his eyes.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>.
He opened his eyes sometime later to find a light on by his bed side and the hospital wing filled with shadows from the moonlight. He looked over and saw his books on the small table beside the bed. Sitting up a bit he picked them up and set them on his lap. He looked over to the table for a glass of water and was surprised to find a small box next to the glass. He picked up the box and opened up the lid. Inside sat three chocolate chip cookies.

I hope you guy's liked this one. I've been working on it for acouple hours.