Hermione left the Great Hall feeling happy for the first time since she'd been back to school. She was truly blessed to have the people she had in her life.

She heard voices as she turned the corner and headed down the last hallway to her room, but didn't think anything of it. Curfew wasn't for another hour.

And then, in an instant, she felt her leg explode in pain. She cried out and stumbled forward. She looked down but couldn't find the source. She looked around but saw nothing. The voices had gone away. Her brain wasn't functioning like it should, all she could think of was the pain.

In a few seconds she was at her room.

"Miss Granger, are you alright?" said the stuffy looking old wizard in the portrait guarding her door. She cried out the password desperately. She needed to get to the bathroom to look at her leg.

She stumbled through the portrait hole and started toward the bathroom. She saw Malfoy sitting in his chair and she swore loudly. She tripped and saw Malfoy standing next to her. Her head was feeling faint and the pain was strangling her but she had enough sense to know that she didn't want Malfoy touching her.

She told him to get away from her and she made her way to the bathroom. She leaned against the counter and took off her robe. Her Oxford shirt was loose from her skirt. She looked down at her leg and saw a hole in her skirt. It hurt so much worse just looking at it. For some reason, the blood was amplifying the stabbing sensation. She cried out again in pain and the door burst open.

She saw Malfoy coming toward her but she didn't have it in her to stop him. The pain was too great.

He knelt down in front of her and yanked her skirt up. She wanted to tell him to get the hell out but when she looked down and saw her leg bare and blood pouring out of it she couldn't. It was a bullet wound. She felt…dizzy. Her vision was going dark, and then…

-

"Miss Granger?" said a calm voice. The voice sounded like it was far away.

"Miss Granger…" the voice said again.

Her eyes flickered open and she saw Dumbledore looking gently into her eyes. She blinked and looked into his eyes.

"What?" she muttered. "Where…"

"Do you remember what happened to you, Hermione?" said McGonnagal from beside her.

What? What happened to me… And then she remembered.

She sat up quickly to look at her leg.

"My leg!" she said in a stressed voice.

"Don't worry, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore's calm voice. "Your leg is fine. The bullet came out easily and dear Madame Pomfrey repaired the damage. You're quite as good as new."

Hermione exhaled in relief. "So it was a bullet…" she muttered.

"Yes," he said simply. "Hermione, do you remember what happened? Did you see where the shot came from?"

Hermione thought to herself then looked up at Dumbledore. "No, Professor. I was…walking back from dinner. I was almost to my room, and then…" She remembered her leg exploding in pain. "That's it."

Dumbledore didn't say anything. He just nodded.

Hermione remembered stumbling into her room and seeing the bullet wound and then everything was black. "But, wait!" she said urgently. "I think I passed out. How did I get here?"

"Ah," said Dumbledore with a smile. "Mr. Malfoy carried you here."

Hermione felt like she'd been slapped. "Malfoy…he…what?"

"I haven't spoken to him yet, but from what I understand, he carried you here and then alerted Professor McGonagall to the situation."

Hermione's eyes were wide.

"He…why?"

"I suppose you'd have to ask him that," said Dumbledore kindly.

Hermione closed her mouth and stared ahead. He could have let her die…why hadn't he?

A few moments later, Dumbledore's gentle voice interrupted her thoughts. "Hermione, I want you to go back to your room and get some sleep. You'll be safe there. I want to speak to you in the morning, and Mr. Malfoy. Please come to my office together before your breakfast."

Hermione nodded distractedly, wondering vaguely what he wanted with Malfoy.

"I also want you to try, if you can, to remember whatever you can about what happened to you."

Hermione nodded.

"Minerva, will you escort Miss Granger back to her room?"

"Of course," McGonagall said softly. She sounded more worried than she had in a long time. "Come with me, Miss Granger."

Hermione obeyed silently. She followed her teacher out the door and walked behind her, not really noticing what was around her. She looked at her watch. It was midnight. There were so many things going through her. Thoughts and feelings were taking over her. She felt overwhelmed.

Someone had just attacked her. Why would someone attack her? Why would someone use a gun in Hogwarts? Why would someone have a gun in Hogwarts? - Those were the thoughts…but there was more.

Malfoy had…saved her life. Selfish, angry, annoying Malfoy who hated her as much as she hated him had saved her life. She could have died, bled to death. Maybe not. She couldn't say for sure what would have happened, but it was possible. She remembered telling him to, 'stay out.' Stupid Malfoy of course ignored her and did whatever he was going to anyway. But what if he hadn't? She didn't want to think about it.

And she really, really wished she didn't feel as guilty as she did. Maybe guilty was the wrong word…conflicted. That sounded right. She was in his debt. That thought made her feel very uncomfortable.

"Well, here we are."

Hermione snapped to attention. McGonnagal was smiling tiredly at her. She returned the smile and said goodnight.

She walked into her common room and looked around nervously. A part of her was relieved that Malfoy wasn't in the room, but a part of her wanted to scream at him for helping her. She knew that was crazy, but she hated how confused she felt. Someone she hated so much had no business making her question that hate.

She paced the room quietly for quite some time, thinking furiously. This was how she worked. She let everything happen inside her until she felt some clarity. She sorted it all out, organizing her thoughts and feelings so that she could feel some calm. After a while, she decided to go to bed.

There was only one thing left to do…

-

"Get out of here, Draco!" screamed his hysterical mother. "I don't want you to see this!"

A nine-year-old Draco Malfoy ran out of the lavishly furnished dining room of his ancestral mansion in fear.

He'd been eating dinner with his mother when his father came in. Draco could tell instantly from the furious state of his father what was going to happen. He felt fear well up inside him and looked at his mother. She continued to eat as though she noticed nothing.

The room was painfully still until Draco's father moved forward and backhanded his wife. The force knocked her out of her chair and little Draco had screamed out. His father ignored his attempts to get to his mother, but she told him to get out. So he obeyed her. He didn't want to make things worse. Maybe if he did what he was told his father wouldn't hit his mother again.

He tore out of the room as fast as he could and ran up the stairs toward his own bedroom. He didn't want to hear anything. He stuck his hands over his ears but it didn't shut out the sound of his mother screaming, "Damn you, Lucius! You're son saw that!"

He slammed the door behind him and ran to his bed. He lied down on his bed and stuffed a pillow over his head. He scrunched his face up and felt tears rolling down his face. Not again…he hated this.

The child cried into his pillow for what seemed like hours until his mother opened the door softly and Draco opened his eyes in fear. When he saw his mother standing there he started to cry again. She crossed to the bed and sat down. Draco wrapped his arms around himself, wishing they were his mother's. But then, she never hugged him.

"Your father loves us, Draco."

"No, he doesn't!" he spat hysterically. "He hits you. He hits me. He doesn't love us!"

His mother was silent and he continued.

"Well, I'll hit him, I'll hurt him. I'll save you."

"You can't save me, Draco. And I can't save you. As much as I'd like to, I can't. You have to save yourself. You have to trust yourself. Be strong. Things happen around you that cause you pain, but you mustn't fall, and you mustn't fear. You are my son, and you are your father's. You're a Malfoy. Malfoy's fear nothing."

Draco listened to her and felt her words hit him. She was right. He was weak. He didn't want to be weak. He wanted to prove that he was strong.

"Wipe your tears away, Draco. You must never let anyone see you cry."

He nodded and dried his face.

"Your father wants to see you."

-

Draco woke up in his room, still hearing his father's voice telling him that what he was doing was making him strong. He could feel the sting of his father's hand on his face.

The room was dark. He could see small outlines from the light of the moon coming through his window. He tried to slow his breathing as he wiped several tears from his face, disgusted with himself.

There was a soft knock on his door and he froze. Granger.

It must have been her, unless it was someone else here to tell him Granger had bled to death. He got out of bed and walked to the door. He opened it about a foot and leaned against the doorframe. It was Granger. She was alive and looked perfectly well. Well, as well as she ever did, which wasn't saying much. He smiled smugly.

"What do you want, Granger?"

She cleared her throat and spoke. He noticed she wasn't looking him in the eyes.

"Professor Dumbledore wants to see us both in his office before breakfast tomorrow," she said in a small, expressionless voice.

"Why?" he asked coldly. She should at least have the decency to look him in the eye after what he'd just done for her. Did she even remember?

"I don't know," she said, still staring at a point around his neck.

There was a long pause until Draco said, "Fine."

She nodded and he turned his back on her, ready to close the door. The bitch woke him up to tell him that? She could have just told him in the morn-

"Thank you, Draco," she said quietly.

Draco froze. He whirled around a moment later, just in time to see Hermione's bedroom door close behind her.

000

Okay, this chapter was rather difficult for me to write because it gave a glimpse into Draco's childhood. I didn't want to over do it, so I hope I didn't.

I'm really loving writing this story and thank you so much for the reviews. I love feedback, it's very validating. Seriously, please everyone tell me what you think, good or bad.

To my reviewers:

Magical Who – I really didn't want to rush the romance. These two have been enemies for six years and I really hate fics where the author doesn't take time to develop the relationship realistically. I swear it will happen! I want it to too. Don't worry, it's coming.

geegeetee – You were quite right, 'Draco' and 'Nice' can't stay in the same sentence for long…;)

SelfHatred – No, it wasn't Ron.

I'd be really interested in what you all are thinking about the gunshot. Where do you think it came from? Any theories?