In the days following the incident with Ron showing up to Draco's dorm, Draco had been promoted from sleeping on the couch to sleeping next to Hermione on the bed. This ascent of comfortability between them had begun when Hermione, who couldn't sleep for the night, shuffled into the living room, her sleep deprived and fatigued mind sending her in search of Draco, and upon finding him curled up on the couch, snoring softly in a state of sleepy bliss, joined him. She apologized profusely the next morning, although Draco had assured her that it was fine. She also did admit that that was actually the first time in a while that she had had a good night's rest.

The first night in bed with Hermione certainly was awkward, what with the fact that they weren't a couple and haven't been as amicable as they were with each other before. But slowly they began to ease into this new arrangement…

Sometimes Hermione would drift right to sleep as Draco wrapped his arms around her, his head nestled in her pleasantly scented locks. Other times, when sleep took its sweet time to get to her, they would converse, covering a different array of topics until they eventually drifted off to sleep. And when they awoke in the morning Blaise and Harry would both stare at them with identical smug, knowing looks.

Draco desperately wanted Hermione to drop her co-dependency to Ron and yearned to help her unlearn the negative self image that he had instilled in her, and learning the vast toxicity that he had fed her wouldn't be a walk in the park. He despised looking into her hazel eyes and seeing the despair that lingered in its depths, such beautiful eyes had the potential of being more alit with life.

As for lessons… Hermione had taken Ron's threat about meeting in the corridors to heart and was very sceptical about returning to class. Draco and Blaise reckoned that he was bluffing; as macho as he claimed to be he seriously wouldn't attempt to hurt Hermione in public for all to bear witness to. Draco had advised Hermione to go talk to the Dean of the college but she had shut down his suggestion in a heartbeat. She was convinced that if she reported Ron he would just find a way to punish her for it. She did mention that he was connected to very dangerous people. Draco determined that it wouldn't do her any good to force her to go. Sadly her marks were going to suffer from her decision to take Ron's threats to heart, but at the moment that seemed a lot more appealing as opposed to the possibility of being hurt by him for the umpteenth time.

Hermione sat cross legged on bed one warm spring afternoon, the sun seeping through the fabric of the curtain, kissing the surface of her porcelain skin. The flowers planted on the balcony were just beginning to bloom, revealing their picturesque display of petals in an assortment of colours. Hermione held a yellow flower in her hand (the names of these magnificent plants always seemed to be illusive in her mind, sadly), her fingers delicately fingering each velvety petal.

Suddenly the door opened, and Draco walked in, rucksack hanging from his shoulder and a book in his hand. He tossed the book towards Hermione and dumped his bag by the door, his demeanor one of exhaustion. "We had one hectic lecture today, I swear, it's days like these that make me want to drop out. Oh, by the way, I got you something to read, and hopefully it'll help clear your mind. I hope you like it, after all I'm not familiar with your literary tastes." He said.

"Thanks Draco. I just… I cannot thank you enough." She said, her eyes growing glossy with tears. There was never a second in the day that passed without her shedding a tear. It frustrated her to no avail that she was constantly mopy and crying, like some petulant infant. She feared that Draco, Blaise and Harry would tire of her melancholic moods and ask her to leave. Then where would she go?

She felt the bed sink as Draco sat in front of her on the edge of the bed. His hand reached forward, (Hermione flinched slightly; of course the movement didn't go unnoticed by Draco) and with the back of his hand wiped the tears that began to cascade down her face. "There's no need for that now." He took her hand in his, his fingers tracing the lines on her palm. The action was relaxing, calming her current state of distress. Silence reigned afterwards, maintaining its position over the two of them until Draco's words tore through it.

"Can I tell you something?" Hermione looked up, staring at Draco now. His eyes were directed to her hand so she couldn't see what lied within their cryptic depths. Hermione nodded. He looked up, his eyes locking with hers, a brief flash of angst visible in his eyes until he looked down again.

"My God this is so hard…" He gave a nervous chuckle. "But it won't do any good to keep it to myself, especially now that I know there's someone I know in a similar situation. Okay, here goes."

"Hermione, I grew up in an abusive home." Hermione stared at him, the words taking their sweet time to process in her mind, and when it did, it ran through her body in an icy cold sensation. It seemed so hard to grasp that somebody as put together and calm and composed as Draco was once a victim of somebody's wrath. Silence once again hung over them, but this time it wasn't as comforting as it was previously. He took a deep breath before continuing. "My name is Draco Malfoy. For a long time I wanted to omit the Malfoy from my name, because I despised who it was associated with. I feared that the way he acted would be passed down to me due to sharing the same blood, hell even through sharing the same name. I wanted to drain the filthy blood out of my body because it was his degenerate DNA that ran through my veins. I didn't want to be a monster like him." He said, voice dripping with bitterness.

"My father was abusive. He was a bully who took pleasure in patronising my mother, and making her feel small and pathetic." His form grew hunched, almost as if he was shrinking into himself. A shaky breath left Draco's lips.

"He extended his wrath to me as well. I still have scars from when he would 'teach me a lesson'. It took years, years Hermione, of emotional labour to get her to leave. She was convinced that she was bound to him, and that even if she left he would find a way to bring her back. He was a very powerful man, with connections so he managed to dodge any retribution that he might've gotten."

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek, not knowing how to proceed. Even if she couldn't see his face at that present moment she could feel the wrath radiating off of him, the pain of recounting that memory heavy in his heart. "I've seen my mother in the worst of situations. I've sat next to her while she battled death in the hospital, while he continued with his life like nothing happened. I watched this man steal the life from her, unable to do something to help. And now I see how your boyfriend steals the life from you, and I just can't sit back and watch. I'm tired of simply sitting back and watching."

He sat up, his grey eyes darker than night itself. Tears slid down his face, his visage hard and stony. Hermione had absentmindedly plucked off a few petals from the flower.

Seven yellow petals lay scattered over the sheets "Draco?" Two engaged in a dance in the soft spring breeze.

"Yes Hermione?" Two more joined them.

"You're braver. Braver than I'll ever be."

Before Hermione knew what she was doing she leaned forward. Almost as if reading her mind Draco did the same. He cupped her cheeks, taking up the little space that spanned between their lips as he kissed her.

Seven yellow petals danced in the wind as he kissed her, their fluid motions somehow a reflection of the life that she wanted to live: a life of freedom.