Disclaimer: you know the drill. I'm me, not she.

000

Draco woke up a few hours later, amazed that he had drifted off and wondering how long he'd been out. He pulled his watch out of his pocket. It was only noon. He'd only been asleep for two hours. Still, Granger had told him she be back, where was she?

He rose hesitantly from the bed and walked to his door to open it. He looked down the hall to Hermione's door and saw that it was closed. He walked slowly down the hall, unsure if she was in her room or not. As he got closer he heard music and he knew she must be inside. He wondered what she was doing, alone in her own bedroom. He leaned back against the wall across from her door and crossed his arms.

He was half tempted to go off and explore the Grangers' house on his own but he knew this was a bad idea. He thought he should probably knock on Hermione's door but curiosity at what she was doing got the better of him. He moved forward quietly and turned the handle of her door slowly, careful not to let it squeak.

As it turned out, he needn't have worried. The music that had been faint from the hall was rather loud now that the door was open. He let it open about a foot and looked inside.

It was almost fascinating, he thought. He glanced around Hermione's room almost reverently. It was like touching something he wasn't allowed to touch. He knew she would never have given him permission to intrude. It was even more amazing to see her room that was just so…her. Someone else had decorated the Head Girl's quarters at school. But this room was all Hermione's. Everything in it was what she had chosen for herself. It was more than a room; it was a window to this girl who confused and often angered him. He didn't understand her. But this, this gave him a hint of who she really was.

It was something he never thought he'd want to know. The idea of being curious about what Hermione Granger kept personal was absurd, but then, here Draco was.

He really hadn't known what to expect when he'd opened the door. A part of him expected to see cheesy stuffed animals perched all over the place. But that's not what was here. Her bed was made of black brass. She had chosen pale blue and gold satin for her very fluffy comforter. It was very simple yet very elegant. Her walls had pictures of different places she'd been in the world. She had a map of the world with little dots on the places she'd been on one wall. She'd been a lot of places…

She had a large vanity with a mirror next to her bed, and several bookshelves, which were mostly filled. Draco recognized a TV and computer under her window. Another large silver box with buttons was flashing red lights. He wondered vaguely what it was, but his attention rested finally on Hermione herself, who was sitting Indian style on the foot of her bed, writing in her journal.

Draco felt a sudden desire to know what she was writing, but ignored it. He just watched her. She had pulled her hair back again and had changed into muggle clothes. Denim shorts and a simple yellow T-Shirt covered her smooth skin. He saw her mouth move slightly and realized she was singing along to her music. He listened closer to the song and realized he liked it. It was smooth and unpretentious, much like the girl who obviously loved it.

Hermione smiled slightly for no apparent reason and laughed to herself. Draco felt himself smile. A violin started playing in her song and she closed her eyes and bobbed her head a little until it was over and the music evened out again. She opened her eyes and smiled peacefully. She began to write again, completely unaware that there was someone watching her.

Some part of Draco knew then.

He just stood there and watched her. It was amazing to him that after everything she'd been through and seen, after everything she'd been a part of, she could still smile like that. She was wholly untainted. There was an innocence about her that Draco almost resented.

Draco didn't really know what he was feeling, or thinking. It was like the world was new to him, in this place. He was broken out of his trance when Hermione suddenly looked up and saw him standing there. He instinctively took a step back.

He expected her to start screaming at him, telling him to get out, but she didn't. She just looked at him with a startled expression on her face. Finally she closed her journal and got up from her bed gracefully. She crossed to the silver box and hit a button. Immediately the music stopped.

She turned to him and said, "Hi. You're awake."

His throat felt dry when he spoke. "Why didn't you wake me?"

She crossed the room and slipped her sandals on. "I thought you needed to sleep." She said simply. Then she looked him right in the eyes. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Not long." He lied. Then his curiosity defeated him again. "What was that song?"

Hermione came to the door and walked out into the hall, pulling it closed behind her. "Crush. Dave Matthews Band."

"Oh." He replied. He had a feeling he'd remember that for a long time.

Snap out of it, Draco.

"Your room is very…juvenile." He said smugly, regaining some of his usual swagger.

Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "You could have knocked."

"Where's the fun in that?" He asked teasingly. He was still being a little too…nice. He needed to piss her off. "I only wish you'd been naked. Then I'd know for sure that your body matches your room."

She threw him an icy glare that made him smirk. Hermione's body was far from childlike, but anything that irritated her, true or not, was okay by Draco.

Hermione led the way down the stairs. "If you're quite finished insulting me, I'll show you where the kitchen is."

"I'll never be finished insulting you, Granger."

Hermione glared at him again. "Why am I not surprised?" But she kept walking, so he followed.

Through a short hallway and a swinging door Draco found himself in a spacious kitchen with an island covered in blue ceramic tile and surrounded by bar stools. The dining room was adjacent. Everything was very clean. Yet it still retained the warmth he'd felt since first walking through the front door.

Hermione pointed to the icebox and said, "Fridge." She pointed to the counter in the corner and said, "Coffee."

She indicated in the same way where the dust bin, silverware drawer, and dishes were.

Clearly she wasn't going to cater to him.

"Are you hungry?" She asked, walking to the fridge and opening it.

Draco admitted he was. He walked up behind her and peered over her shoulder. "My God, Granger. You've got nothing here."

"My parents normally eat out, I think."

Draco reached in and grabbed a box labeled 'Corn Dogs.' He wasn't sure what a Corn Dog was, but it looked to be the only substantial food in there.

Hermione looked annoyed. "Help yourself." She quipped sarcastically.

"I will." He said unabashedly.

He looked at the box then around the room. He really had no idea what to do with a frozen corn dog. "How do I…?" He muttered.

Hermione sighed in exasperation and snatched the box out of his hand. She pulled out two corn dogs and placed them in another silver box. Draco found himself reluctantly fascinated by the gadgets muggles used as substitutes for magic.

"This is called a 'Microwave." She said condescendingly, as though speaking to a child. "It heats up whatever you put inside it."

Draco gave her a sneer but didn't say anything. She pressed several buttons and a timer popped up on the box. Draco watched in skepticism. He found it very unlikely that when the timer hit zero, their food would be 'magically warm,' so to speak.

But sure enough, two minutes later the 'Microwave' beeped and Hermione pulled the steaming corn dogs out. She put one on a plate for each of them and pulled a bottle of ketchup out of a cupboard.

The two of them ate in silence. Hermione finished first.

"I didn't want to be the first to bring it up," she said. "But we need to figure out what we're going to do next."

Draco swallowed. "I thought we were going to wait for your parents to get home, then talk to them about it."

"Oh. Yeah…we were. I just. I mean, I didn't think you would…"

"Stop muttering, Granger. Under the circumstances, I think that's our best option." He said. He didn't like admitting it, but he already trusted Hermione's parents. He felt sure that they'd be able to help.

Hermione nodded then got up. "It's 12:30 now. They'll be home at 5:30. That's five hours."

"I can add, Granger." He snarled.

"Will wonders never cease…" She said, bating him.

"Listen you-?"

"I'm going to go take a nap." She said, cutting him off. "I'm sure you can find a way to amuse yourself. The TV is through that door and the library is through that one. I'm assuming of course that you haven't forgotten how to read."

She gave him a nauseating smile and strolled out of the room.

Draco shook his head. Hermione Granger really went above and beyond the call of obnoxious.

A few more bites finished his corn dog and he got up.

He went through the first door and bent down to fiddle with the buttons on the TV. About an hour later he was thoroughly bored so he turned it off and decided to do some exploring. If he ever wanted to, now was his best chance.

About ten minutes later he figured he's seen most everything and found himself in the library. He smirked inwardly as he pictured Hermione spending hours in here like it was a bloody chapel.

Draco looked around the room until he found the most valuable thing he'd seen yet in the house. And by 'valuable' he didn't necessarily mean monetary worth. Draco Malfoy loved the piano. It was a little known fact, but he'd been playing since childhood. It was the one escape he'd been allowed as a boy. The Grangers' piano was very fine indeed. He smiled genuinely as he pulled the bench back and sat down. He was at home now.

-

Hermione wondered if leaving Draco alone and unsupervised in her house was a good idea, but she didn't fancy the idea of babysitting him and she really did need a nap. The bizarre nature of the situation she found herself in hit her harder than ever when she had told Draco to amuse himself with her TV.

Also, Draco had been noticeably less hostile toward her after his nap. She wondered what had caused the change and how long it would last for, before he remembered that he was Draco Malfoy and that his mission in life was to be an insufferable prick.

Not that she didn't appreciate him behaving himself in front of her mother; she had honestly expected him to treat her mother with the same open animosity that he showed her. But he hadn't. He'd surprised her and been very charming. Hermione suspected he had it in him to be charming at any time and chose not to be. What a shame…she could almost tolerate him. Almost.

Hermione fell asleep easily and woke up several hours later. She rolled over to look at her clock. 5:15. She sighed sleepily and closed her eyes. She really hoped her parents would have some ideas. She wondered how Draco had chosen to spend the last five hours and hoped dearly that he hadn't disregarded her mother's request that they not set anything on fire.

She got out of bed and straightened her cloths. When she left her room she heard the music. It was beautiful, like something out of a dream. Someone was playing the piano. Someone was playing the piano very well. She froze for an instant before the music pulled her toward it.

Who could possibly be-?

No way.

Hermione quickened her pace and walked toward the library. She knew before she got there who was playing but when she saw him sitting there, his hands creating music like she'd never heard before, something changed inside her.

She watched him from the side as his fingers moved faster than hers ever could. He stared straight ahead, his face blank. His body swayed slightly, following his hands wherever they took him. She was captured.

And then he closed his eyes. She'd never seen him more alive. She was seeing something she was not meant to be a part of and it scared and moved her. How could this boy, this boy who had never been anything but horrible and selfish, create something so beautiful? He'd never shown himself to her, but his music gave him away.

Physically, he was the same Draco he'd been five hours ago. But now Hermione's eyes had changed. She was seeing him now, really for the first time. She felt so much in that moment. Every emotion hit her like a tidal wave, and then he smiled. He was the most beautiful enigma she'd ever seen.

A door opened and closed behind her and she jumped. Draco turned around and saw her standing there. She didn't even look at him as she turned away quickly to go greet her parents. She wiped tears hastily from her eyes and pushed everything she'd just felt deep down where no one would ever find it. This was dangerous and she knew that whatever had just happened to her could never be known.

"Hermione." Her father said, holding his arms out for her. She ran to him and wrapped her arms around him.

"Hi daddy." She whispered.

"I'm so glad you're okay." He said, pushing her back took look at her. "When I heard what happened…Hermione…" His voice started to shake and Hermione hugged him again.

"It's okay daddy." She said. "I'm safe."

"I know you are. Thanks to this boy here."

Hermione's father released her and crossed the hall to Draco Malfoy, who was standing awkwardly in the archway between the library and the foyer.

"Thank you." He said simply, holding his hand out to Draco. "I owe you my life and more."

-

Draco was speechless. Hermione Granger and her father obviously had a bond unmatched by anything Draco had ever seen. The way he held her, and spoke to her…Hermione was her father's life.

Draco didn't know that kind of love was possible until that moment. He felt more out of place than he ever had. And then the man looked at Draco. Draco didn't know what he would say. This man emanated goodness and authority. He commanded respect. Draco was terrified for a brief moment. But then the man offered Draco his hand.

"Thank you. I owe you my life and more."

Draco didn't trust himself to speak, so he shook Hermione's father's hand and nodded. He glanced at Hermione but she reused to look him in the eye.

Does she really hate me that much?

About ten minutes later Hermione's mother came in the door and greeted both her daughter and Draco warmly. Was this what Hermione's life was like? Draco wondered if she knew how lucky she was.

He stood back and watched as the family had their moment together. Anger rose up inside him and he walked into the kitchen to sit down on a barstool. The last thing he wanted was to hang around in the hallway witnessing something he would never have. Was it possible that he was jealous of Granger?

No…Hermione was a mudblood. She had nothing that he wanted. Draco knew that if he wanted something he had to get it for himself. Hermione didn't understand that. She had her friends and her family to rely on and they had her. Draco was alone. It was better this way…

If ever he had a moment of weakness where he forgot who he was and what Granger was, he would remember how she hated him. Her father had thanked Draco and Hermione hadn't been able to so much as look at him. In that moment, as much as he hated Hermione for ignoring him, for having a perfect family and perfect friends, for being able to smile, he hated himself so much more.

000

Okay, this chapter had some obvious cheese in it, but I felt like it needed it. I'd go into more detail, but I don't want to give anything away. I'll just say that these seeds needed to be planted now.

Thanks for reading and so on…

I should have chapter 10 up later tonight or tomorrow afternoon.

Again, I apologize if the chapter was too soft, but I swear, it won't stay so.