A/N: So, basically, I suck :P I am so sorry for taking years to post this. I could talk about how busy I have been, but that gets old, right? Anyways, thanks so much to those of you who have stuck with me and the story, it means a lot! This chapter is a bit of an emotional roller coaster, but hopefully you all enjoy it!

Thanks again for reading!

"Nervous?" Ginny questioned, jumping onto Hermione's bed and staring at her friend. Ginny had decided to move into the dormitory with Hermione, so rather than being alone all year, Hermione was able to spend it with the one girl she consistently got along with.

"What gave it away?" Hermione responded sarcastically, leaning against her headboard.

"Well, you're chewing on your lip for one. And you haven't flipped the page in almost twenty minutes," the redhead responded with a small laugh.

Shutting the book in exasperation, Hermione sighed, "I don't know why I'm so jittery about this. It's only – "

"Malfoy," Ginny finished, her voice suddenly cold. "Which means it's not only anyone, Mione. I'd be – well, maybe more ticked than nervous – but anyways, I wouldn't want to have to spend an entire hour with that ferrety git. I don't know what right he thinks he has to come back here after everything that he did."

Hermione considered this, and then nodded slowly. She hadn't told Ginny about her most recent encounter with Malfoy, because she hadn't figured out exactly what to think about it herself. She knew he had to be manipulating her somehow, but she didn't know exactly what his plan could be. It had been an entire week since their conversation and he hadn't insulted her once. Of course, she had only talked with him briefly, just long enough to set up the meeting they had in exactly twenty minutes. But the fact that he hadn't gone out of his way to bully her said something. And Hermione desperately wanted to know what that something was.

"Earth to Hermione, earth to Hermione," Ginny repeated, waving a hand in front of her friend's face. The older girl shook her head slightly and then shrugged:

"Honestly, I don't think that's it. I'm just not sure what it is yet," Hermione told her. Ginny's eyebrows creased together, and she looked entirely confused.

"What do you mean?"

Biting her lip, Hermione considered whether or not to tell her friend. After a moment she decided against it. Ginny had, after all, already tried to convince Hermione that Malfoy was incapable of change. As much as this might be true, Hermione wasn't willing to totally believe it until necessary. Though she planned to be very careful around the blond, she didn't see a point in working with him if he was going to be the same person he always had been. She needed to at least believe that he had changed in some way, even if it was barely noticeable and hard to define.

"I don't know," Hermione finally responded, sounding entirely unconvincing. Ginny studied her for a moment, and then shrugged:

"Well, let me know when you figure it out."

"You'll be the first I tell," Hermione replied.

The two sat in silence for a moment, before Ginny spoke again:

"Have you sent Ron a letter yet?"

A pang hit Hermione at these words. She had written Ron twice already, but she hadn't gotten anything back. She'd been trying to tell herself that he had to have a good reason, but she didn't know what that could be. He must have had time in the last week to at least write her once.

"Yes, but he hasn't responded," Hermione admitted. "What about you and Harry?"

Ginny blushed, "We've written back and forth three times already."

Hermione nodded, unable to give her friend any encouragement. Instead, she simply felt a crushing sadness and a strange anger at Ron. She hadn't expected him to write to her as much as Harry would to Ginny, but she thought she mattered enough for him to have taken the time to at least write her once.

Apparently, she had thought wrong.

Draco sat in the library staring at the empty table in front of him. Hermione was supposed to be here already, and it wasn't like her to be late. Or, he didn't think it would be like her. If he was honest, he didn't know enough about her to know for sure.

Even without removing his eyes from the scratched surface of the library's worn out tables, Draco could feel the cool gazes of the other students who frequented this corner of Hogwarts. It had been this way all week, and he was starting to get sick of it, yet he still felt in some deep part of him as though he deserved it. So he hadn't acted out, hadn't done anything other than look away and push his fear, hurt, and anger further down within him.

He didn't know what he would do without his friends, all of whom were going through the same thing. Draco Malfoy had a far worse reputation than the rest of the Slytherins combined, but it seemed as though the rest of the school was content to bully any Slytherin they saw. At least Theo was talking to him again, though. As much as he didn't really understand Draco, he came closest to it, having also received the Dark Mark. Theo hadn't talked to Astoria yet, that Draco knew of, but he didn't seem ticked with Draco anymore, either. Which was a start.

"Since when have you ever been the first to show up to anything," a voice questioned from behind him, pulling Draco out of his thoughts. Turning, he saw Granger staring at him, eyes a mixture of coolness and confusion. Oh, for Salazar's sake, not her too, he thought, and then stopped himself, wait, why do you care what she thinks? He tried to tell himself that it was just because they needed to work together, but this wasn't it.

"I was the first person in McGonagall's office for detention last week," he responded defensively, unsure as to why he felt he needed to defend himself to her, "And I'm not a late person, you know."

"No, I didn't. I don't know anything about you, Malfoy. Other than the fact that you've been a complete git and coward the last – well, all your life probably," Granger's voice was hard and sounded strange to Draco, though he knew she was right. He just wasn't sure where this change was coming from – he'd thought she would be civil at least, wanting to make the experience of working with him slightly more bearable.

"People can change," was all he said, angry for some reason.

"People like you generally don't," Hermione responded harshly, "And I've decided I want to know why. If you really have changed, then tell me what brought it about. And if you haven't, then we can save ourselves a lot of useless drama and just find a new Honorary Head Boy."

Draco realized then why it mattered to him, what Granger thought. She had probably been the person that he had been the worst to during their earlier years at Hogwarts. If he could convince her that he had or at least wanted to change, then he might be able to convince anybody. But it looked as though this wasn't going to be that easy.

Not that he had exactly expected it to be.

"That's not your decision to make," Draco responded coolly, "I'm Honorary Head Boy whether you like it or not."

"You forget about our encounter last week, where you called me you-know-what," Hermione spit out the last few words, "I'm certain that McGonagall will take my side on this."

Draco bit his lip, knowing his response hadn't exactly been the best. He didn't know what it was about Granger, but he had always used to spill out his pent up anger on her when they were younger. Apparently it was still a natural reaction.

"Well?" Hermione asked impatiently. Draco studied her, feeling sick once again. He felt trapped and he absolutely hated that feeling. Basically, he either gave into Hermione and spilled his darkest secrets to his old mud – muggleborn – enemy, or he lost his Head Boy position and disappointed his father. He'd received a letter from Lucius only a few days ago congratulating him on being chosen, and he knew things wouldn't go well for him if he lost it.

He was of age, and had been for almost two years, but he was still terrified of his father.

Some things never change.

But what are you more afraid of? he asked himself, Your father or your past? Lucius Malfoy or the dark truth about yourself?

Neither option seemed appealing.

"Fine, have it your way," Granger's voice once again cut into his thoughts, "I'm going to talk to McGonagall." She turned on her heel and started towards the library exit.

"Wait," the word left Draco's lips before he could stop it, but it did the trick. Granger stopped and, turning, walked back towards him, "Let's go somewhere else."

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, Granger studied him. After a moment, "Alright. Where?"

Draco stood, leaning against the iron balcony, staring out at the lake that seemed to stretch on for miles. Granger sat on the steps behind him, tapping her foot on the ground in what he assumed to be a purposefully annoying manner. He hadn't said anything for a good five minutes though, trying to gather his thoughts. Only it wasn't quite that easy, particularly for a Malfoy.

Thinking back, Draco tried to recall what had started his conversation with Theo a week ago, where he had ended up saying far more than he had meant to. The problem was that he seemed to have blocked it out of his mind, because he honestly could not remember much at all of their little talk.

"Are you going to tell me, or are you just going to stand there sulking?" Granger asked, and Draco spun around.

"I'm not sulking. And you don't have to resort to insults, Granger. We're not kids anymore."

"Look who's talking."

The two stared each other down for a moment before Draco turned away, feeling foolish. She was right, after all.

Why is this so bloody confusing? He asked himself, though he was almost certain he knew the answer. He didn't know who he was anymore. He didn't know what he believed. He didn't know why he was here.

He didn't know that he had changed, so how could he explain to Granger the ways in which he had.

And in that moment Draco realized what he was going to have to do. He need to tell her this. He needed to be honest, for what would be almost the first time in his life.

Is it worth it, though? The little voice in the back of his head asked, telling her the truth? Admitting that you don't know?

Chewing on his lip, Draco considered this. It wasn't worth it, really. But deep inside he knew that it was still something that he needed to do.

What am I doing here? Hermione asked herself, glaring at the metal staircase under her feet. This is a waste of time.

She didn't know what she had expected. On the way to the library that question had occurred to her, and she thought that she deserved to know the answer. But this was Malfoy. The fact that she was here, alone with him, was strange enough. Looking up for a moment, she studied the blond. He had his back turned to her, but she could tell that he was struggling with something. And for some reason this bothered her.

This is Malfoy. Why are you even trying to give him a chance? She asked herself, knowing that she sounded like Ginny. But, truth be known, she didn't have a good answer for the question. Why did she care about him? She shouldn't, and she knew it.

If only Ron and Harry were –

And there was the problem. They weren't. Her two best friends weren't here, and it was driving her insane. She'd told Ron all about the oddness surrounding Malfoy, but he hadn't bothered to respond, meaning she had to decipher his strange behavior all on her own.

"Look, are you going to tell me, or – "

"Will you give me one minute?" Malfoy spat out, cutting her off. The blond turned and glared at her, but Hermione was almost certain that she saw a glint of fear cross through his eyes.

"You've had almost ten."

The blond bit his lower lip, and this time Hermione was sure that she saw a look of uncertainty pass across his face. Still, as soon as it appeared, it was gone.

"Look, you want the truth? It's that I don't know if I've changed. Maybe I haven't," Malfoy took in a breath, looked as though he was going to continue, and then remained silent. His glare had transferred to the ground, and Hermione was almost certain that he was ready to hex something.

"That's all you have to say?"

"It's more than enough," he responded angrily, his eyes hardening as they met hers once again. Hermione could almost watch his wall being rebuilt. For a moment there she had seen a crack in it, but now that break had disappeared.

"Fine." She stood to her feet, getting angry herself. Her emotions were entirely mixed up, and she didn't know how to read them. She didn't think that she was actually angry at the blond, but this only confused her more, "I'm leaving." She turned and began to walk down the stairs.

"You act as if I care," he drawled, sounding just like his old self. Hermione spun back to face him and was entirely surprised by what she saw. Not malice, not anger, just confusion. Instead of responding, she simply turned back around and walked down the stairs.

Draco stood at the top feeling as though he had just lost something important, but was unable to figure out what it was.

To be continued...

A/N: As always, reviews are incredibly appreciated! Leave me a note on your way out, and thanks again for reading :)