The pain in my arm was white hot, searing, and it travelled all the way up to my neck and down to my fingertips. I was under the Cruciatus curse once again, Bellatrix's blade being dug into my arm as she shouted, screamed, laughed, and raved about the 'filthy little mudblood' she was 'scarring for life.'

I was crying, trying to scream but nothing came out. I was terrified, the pain racked my entire body, I was unable to move. I felt as though I couldn't breathe, and when the pain became too much I cried, begged for someone to just kill me, please. Just kill me, end this, please, please, just kill me.

In my dream, Draco was there standing obediently by his father. I heard him screaming my name, I looked to him and saw his tear-filled eyes as his aunt hovered over me, laughing and twirling her cursed blade between her hands, admiring what she had done. He was there, screaming my name, over and over, just standing there, looking at me. He wasn't moving, he wasn't trying to stop any of it, he was just screaming my name. Hermione… Hermione…

"Hermione!" I shot upright, Draco's hands around my face, wiping my tears gently.

His eyes were sharp; fear was evident in them as he looked into mine. He was sitting on top of me, cupping my face in his hands and wiping my tears away, looking at me with wild eyes like he was afraid for his life.

I quickly came to, realizing that it had been a dream and Draco screaming my name was him trying to wake me up.

I spoke slowly, my voice hoarse, "What happened?"

Draco hugged me, hard, then held my face in his hands again, "Oh god, Hermione, you- you were screaming and crying and I just…" He moved my hair from my face and kissed my forehead, "I couldn't wake you up, I tried so hard…" He was crying now, still straddling my legs, inches away from my face, "It was just a dream, Hermione. It was just a dream." The last lines were calmer, more controlled.

He steadied himself and rolled to the side, pulling me into his chest and hugging me tight, still crying with me, rocking me gently.

His bedroom door opened as Mrs. Weasley, Harry, Ginny, and Ron flew into the room, wondering what all the screaming was about.

I couldn't speak, I was still rattled with fear and so confused in my partially awakened state. I stayed silent and let Draco speak for me.

"It was a nightmare, that's all." He said calmly, wiping the tears from his eyes and smoothing his hand against the back of my head, "I'm sorry we woke you."

Mrs. Weasley sat on the edge of the bed, putting her hand on my shoulder, "Do you need anything, dear?" She asked, worry thick in her voice.

I lifted my head enough to see her, "No, no I'm okay. Thank you."

She turned her eyes to Draco, "And you, Darling? Are you alright?" Her motherly instincts coming out with the question.

He nodded, "I think I'm okay, I just had trouble waking her up is all. We're okay now," he rubbed my back gently, "She's okay."

Mrs. Weasley nodded and stood, "You just let me know if you need anything at all, you two. Goodnight."

Draco nodded and I put my head back on his chest. Mrs. Weasley left the room, walking past the other three who stood in the doorway with no intent to leave.

Harry spoke first, "Hermione, do you need to talk about it?"

Draco spoke with anger he tried to stifle, "I can handle it, Potter. She's in here, with me, for a reason."

Harry put his arm around Ginny's waist, "She's my friend, Malfoy. I'm only offering a shoulder."

Draco softened a bit, "She has two right here."

Ron butted in, "I think Hermione should speak for herself."

I looked at them all, sternly, "Draco is taking good care of me. I would appreciate it if we could be left alone. Go back to bed, all of you."

They did as I instructed, and Draco stood to close the door behind them. He sat down in the chair in the corner, running his hands through his messy hair as he slumped forward.

"What…" He didn't know what to say, how to ask what he wanted to know, "Are you…?"

"It was the Manor… My dream." He looked at me, jaw tight with worry and anger, "I'll be okay."

His jaw relaxed, worry filled his eyes, "The way you were screaming… You weren't okay. What happened to you while you were there?"

I couldn't keep the tears from falling. I tried to muffle the sounds of my crying but Draco wasn't fooled. He came over to me and held me in his lap on the bed as I sobbed uncontrollably. He smoothed his hands through my hair, down my back, and across my face. I wasn't ready to talk about everything that happened in the Manor, especially now after reliving it so vividly. I was happy he didn't press the issue and just let me cry. It seemed like I cried on him for hours.

When I finally felt that there were no tears left, and the moon was sitting low in the sky, he positioned me under the covers and held me close to him, my back against his stomach. It was comforting to feel him there, protective over me, holding me close to him with his head just above mine.

He pulled the blankets up over my shoulders and hummed absent-mindedly as his hand moved gently up and down my sides, from my ribs to my hip and back. I was afraid of dreaming again, but when I fell asleep it was deep, dreamless, and peaceful.

I woke to an empty bed, sun high in the sky with the clock confirming it was mid-afternoon. My arm was stinging with pain and I wondered if I had experienced another nightmare, just without remembering it this time.

I got up and changed my bandages, carefully putting everything back where I had found it in Draco's drawers. Though my curiosity drove me nearly mad, I didn't go rummaging through his things the way I'd liked to.

I decided I should probably retreat back to my bedroom, if nothing less than to avoid strange looks from Ginny and the rest of them wondering what I was still doing lingering about in Draco's room alone long after morning.

I made his bed and gathered my potions book, then headed towards the other end of the house towards my bedroom. I ran into Ron in the hallway; he tried to duck past me without making eye contact.

I knew he must be a bit upset, "Good afternoon, Ronald." I tried, but received no response but a light grunt as he ducked into the washroom.

I felt my face flush with a twinge of anger. What was his problem? Was he jealous? Of Draco Malfoy? Well, if that was the case, then maybe he should pluck up his courage and bloody well do something about it rather than sulking about the house and avoiding me at all costs.

I retreated to my room where the anger came over me like a hot wave. I threw my book against the wall, sending it crashing to the floor with a loud thud. I stood staring at it on the floor, simmering with anger for a few moments before something jerked my attention away from it.

I spun around and met Draco's silvery eyes in my doorway. I tried to speak, but the words caught at my throat.

He leaned against the door frame, eyes not moving from mine, "Nice to see you up and moving this afternoon, Granger." He smirked, knowing his use of my last name would pinch my nerves.

I wanted to jab playfully back at him, but instead my voice lowered and I only asked, "How long did you leave me alone?"

His taught posture relaxed a bit as he took a few steps toward me, "Not long, really. I was starved and Potter insisted on talking my head off," he put his hands on my shoulders, "I was coming back to check on you."

I smiled and lowered my gaze, "I just had another nightmare," I lied, "It wasn't nearly as bad…" There was no reason to finish that thought. We both knew it wasn't as bad, because I didn't alert the entire house of troubles with my screeching.

He pulled me into his warm chest, hugging me close to him, "I'm sorry Hermione. I'm so, so sorry."

I felt his cocky attitude break with his words and his breath escaped his mouth in small, broken gasps as we both tried to hold in our sobs.

It was undeniably strange, the way Draco let his guard down around me now days. At first, when he was permitted to roam the house freely, he was still cold and distant with everyone, almost fearing that we all had the unbearable itch to curse him or kill him ourselves. None of that began to dissipate for weeks, almost a month even, until Harry started actively trying to get him involved in things. Rather than just asking him for information or prodding him for suggestions, he was asked to join in dinner conversations about things other than Voldemort and the war. He was asked to play games and drink butterbeer or mead with the boys of the house.

It was then he started loosening his tension around the others, and soon I decided maybe he wasn't half bad to be around myself. That's when we started playing Wizard's Chess and I found he was actually quite a delight. One night I switched the Wizard's Chess board with a muggle chess board after we both had a few glasses of mead and watched him try to instruct the pieces to move by talking to them. The side splitting laughter that came from his rising frustration at what was happening was more than enough to break down the rest of the tension between the two of us.

Since then, we spent a considerable amount of time together, playing chess and just being in each other's company. He became, very quickly, a rather good friend if nothing else, and he was very kind hearted. It was like something in him completely switched, like not being under the watchful eye of his parents and their expectations made him painfully unaware of just how much he had let his hair down, so to speak.

He was normally happy and cheerful, as much as one could be with the events taking place around us, and it made me feel safer to know that there was another strong, capable male body to protect and help the lot of us. Also, he was actually very intelligent, proving his marks in school had little to do with his surname. His ideas and suggestions, that of which I had never thought of, were almost brazen with the sheer nature of their complexity, but they always seemed to work in one strange way or another.

Another thing that just seemed to work was the way we had become closer than friends, as we were now, holding one another after we had spent the last two nights in each other's beds, doing nothing more than comforting the other while we slept. It was strange, to say the least, but pleasant, and it was much more than I would've ever expected from Harry or Ron, even during these dark times when nobody ever wanted to spend a second alone.

I really actually enjoyed being here, in Draco's arms, unguarded and still protected by him in a way, even if it was superficial in the grand scheme of it all. I enjoyed his company, his warmth, and his arms wrapped around me as they are now.

I felt his grip loosen, and I let out of the hug backing away just a step, so we were still close enough to feel each other's warmth but not chest-to-chest as we had just been.

His hand found the nape of my neck and he leaned down to plant a kiss on top of my head, "You must be hungry too," he left his hand in place as our eyes met again, "I mean with all that snoring-"

"I do not snore!" I felt my face flush as I pushed him gently away from me.

He laughed and let his hands fall to his sides as he raised an eyebrow in my direction, "Hungry?"

I tried to hide my now red cheeks by turning slightly away from him, "Starved, actually."

He followed me to the kitchen, and sat beside me sipping his tea while I ate a delicious lunch prepared by Mrs. Weasley.

The second time I caught Draco eying me as I ate I slammed down my fork with a little more intensity than I had previously planned.

His eyes went wide for a moment, then his sharp, poised, Draco Malfoy look returned, "What's the matter, Granger?"

"I don't like people watching me eat," I said, matter-of-factly, "It makes me uncomfortable."

Draco stood slowly, eyes piercing the top of my head. He tapped me on the shoulder and turned to walk out of the dining area, "I suppose you'll find me when you're ready, then." I could feel the smirk on my back.

I smiled, then continued to eat alone. When I was finished, I went about washing dishes and preparing what I could for Mrs. Weasley so she could relax a bit when it came time to cook dinner. When I was finished, I went to the living area and took my place at a desk, opening my potions book with a piece of parchment and quill to take notes as I read.

I knew we were running low on some vital potions, so I jotted down a few recipes and told myself I would brew them sometime later, after dinner maybe, when I could be left mostly alone in the dining room.

Just as I was finished making a list of ingredients I would need for my potions, I felt a warmth over my shoulder. I didn't have to look to know who was behind me.

"Hello, Draco." I said, not lifting my quill from the parchment.

"I think we're almost out of Burn Healing Paste," He commented, looking at the list I had made.

I thumbed through the pages of my text, finding the recipe for the Burn Paste and jotting down the ingredients on my list, "Thank you for telling me, I didn't think about that one."

Draco's hand fell lightly on my shoulder, protective and firm, but gentle and caring at the same time. I lifted my eyes to him, he was still reading the list I had made.

I watched him for a second, admiring the way his sharply carved out features glistened in the light of the lamp on the desk. His eyes scattered across the parchment, side to side as he read my scribbled words. His hand remained gently on my shoulder, his fingers tapping lightly just above my collar bone.

"Exceptional list, Granger," he said breaking my stare, "would you like me to help you mix them?"

He was looking in to my eyes now, the question hanging in the air, "I would actually appreciate the help, yes." I said with a smile, trying to forget how badly I wanted to jump up into his long, strong arms.

His lips curved into a devious smirk, "How about we wager on it?"

I couldn't help but smile at him with wonder, "You want to bet with me about healing potions?"

His grip on my shoulder tightened slightly, "I just know I could do better than you is all," he smiled at me again cunningly.

I tilted my chin up, mustering my confidence and staring directly into his charcoal grey eyes, "I'll wager you a day of Ginny's lessons that my potions will turn out better than yours!"

We had both taken turns with teaching Ginny, Draco mostly with Potions and Arithmacy, me mostly with Muggle Studies and Transfiguration. Draco hated Muggle Studies, and the thought of having to lecture Ginny for a day brought the competitive joy to his eyes that I recognized immediately.

"You're on, Granger." He patted my shoulder and turned on his heal, leaving the room with his all too confident smirk resting comfortably on his face.

I closed my book and rolled up my parchment, satisfied that I had completed my list. I felt a sudden rush of exhaustion come over me as I made my way to the small sofa in front of the crackling fire place. Winter was coming and there was a cold nip in the air. The fire was warm and comforting. I sat on the couch and pillowed my head in my arm, I was asleep almost immediately.