Disclaimer: Unfortunately, the wonderful world of magic isn't my own creation, it's JK Rowling's

1997

The food and water Malfoy had given her had revived Hermione quite a bit and she was feeling much better. How could she have let something like this happen? She should have known that something wasn't right. How could she have been so stupid? Slowly, the headache began to disappear and the room completely stopped its spinning.

The way Malfoy was acting was utterly confusing to her. He was a total git then suddenly acting like he cared. One minute he was helping her to recover, giving her potions, healing her wounded hand, making her food, and the next, he was rude and storming out. He hadn't returned so Hermione assumed that either he really did not want to see her again right now, or he had gone to plant the clothes that marked her death.

Cautiously, she got up from the bed, deciding to take a look around the place where she was apparently going to be living for a while. The door squeaked as it opened and she walked down the now familiar hallway. Part of the way down the hall, there was a door that she had been too focused on escaping to notice last time. She poked her head inside and found it was a bathroom. It was always a good thing to know where that was. Hermione continued walking down the corridor which soon opened into a kitchen on one side and a sitting room on the other. The kitchen was quite small and kind of homey with wooden cupboards along one wall hanging over simple counter. There was a break in the wall of cupboards over the sink, where there was a window letting in some natural sunlight. In front of the preparation areas was a round white table with two chairs. This again seemed strange. It was as if he knew she was going to be there and had prepared for an extra person. She may also be reading far too much into everything. Why wouldn't Malfoy be prepared to host guests in the cabin?

Hermione shook off the confusing thoughts and moved into the joined room where there was a tan leather sofa in front of a large window, a similar coloured lazy-boy chair, and a coffee table in the center. Off the sitting room were two more doors. One of them she knew would be Malfoy's bedroom, but the other she was unsure of. Cautiously, she opened the door on the right, peaking her head around the corner. Her eyes grew large and a small smile spread across her face. It was a library.

Hermione opened the door wider and stepped inside the seemingly out of place room. She didn't think the typical cabin contained a library, but then again, she knew Malfoy was interested in the more sophisticated aspects of life. Multiple shelves stacked full with books lined each wall, surrounding two comfortable looking chairs sitting in the center. Slowly, she moved around the room, dragging her fingers over the spines and examining the titles of both novels and educational content. This would make everything much more pleasant and less boring. She left the room a bit happier, knowing that she was going to spend a lot of time there.

Behind the next door was probably Malfoy's bedroom; the one room he had explicitly told her she was unwelcome to. Her curiosity begged her for a sneak a peak and she stood between the doors thinking for a moment. Would he ever even know? No, she told herself. It's not right. That is his personal space, the place where he is allowed to be himself and feel safe. But oh, how she wanted to know. A bedroom could tell so much about a person, what they care about, who they are away from the rest of the word. It was very private. Hermione defied her temptation and made to sit down on one of the sofas.

The cabin was much smaller than something she expected from a Malfoy. The furniture seemed rather old, though it was well kept, and definitely not designer material. Being wealthy as he was, Hermione wondered why the Malfoys would have such a property.

Hermione was surprised that Malfoy wasn't back yet. Not that she cared. But still, she wanted to know what was happening. Had he placed the bloody clothes in the forest? Maybe he went into the castle for classes. It was what she would do. It was a bit smarter than staying away perhaps. People may have less reason to believe he was involved in her disappearance if he didn't run away. If he went to his classes, would he even come back that night? Did she want him to come back? I don't care. There was probably food somewhere that she could make for herself. She would be fine for at least a short while.

Her mind drifted back to earlier that day. Malfoy had used her first name. Why was that so significant? Why did that mean anything to her? It was an unexpected situation and it probably just slipped out. Still, he had never called her Hermione before. She had been quite out of sorts at the time, however, that didn't explain the strangeness not only of the name he had called her, but of her own thoughts when she heard him say it. It sounded nice, like he was somehow different when he used her first name. That was ridiculous, wasn't it? He was the same cruel boy who had always told her how inadequate she was, how she didn't belong in the world of magic.

As time went on, she began thinking less about Malfoy and more about her friends. She hated being there, unaware of what was going on at the school. Had they found the evidence yet? How would her friends take it? They would be alright as long as they had each other, wouldn't they? She hated this waiting. It made horrible images appear in her mind, such as Hagrid most likely being the one to find the bloody clothes. Poor Hagrid had such a good heart and she didn't want him to be the one to discover her death.

She wondered what the investigation would be like. Would the professors blame themselves for letting this happen at the school?

She had to stop thinking so much. She retrieved a book on advance charms from the small library and tried reading again, but her thoughts were too strong and overpowered whatever the book saying.

Hermione heard the door open and was on immediate alert. It was probably just Malfoy, but who else knew about the place? Should she hide? Should she find a weapon? Why hadn't she thought of this before!

When she saw Malfoy come around the corner, she breathed a sigh of relief. She knew he wasn't going to hurt her whereas other acquaintances of his wouldn't hesitate. With one look at her, he walked right by, heading towards his room.

"Wait," she called.

He froze, one hand clenching the handle of the door.

"Please tell me what's happening," she asked quietly.

Malfoy seemed to visibly exhale as if he just wanted to get by her into his room without a conversation. Well a conversation was necessary. Hermione needed answers.

"I planted the clothes in the forest with drag marks leading down to an underground cave. I went to my afternoon classes and yes, your idiot friends have noticed you gone and already blame me, but funny enough haven't told anyone about any of it yet. It's a real good thing you're here and not somewhere worse because you wouldn't be found for while," he explained harshly. "Hey, maybe by tomorrow they'll get started on a search or something. Maybe they'll just move on without even trying."

That last statement hung heavy in the air and made Hermione feel as though she were suffocating. Surely her friends would do something about her absence, especially in this war; this war where people like her, muggle-borns, were being killed for sport. She thought they would be more worried.

The door clicked shut and Malfoy was gone. Well good ridden, she thought, and got up to go to her own room. He didn't need to tell her that! He didn't have to imply what he had! Her friends cared! It had only been one day. In the muggle world, that wasn't even long enough to consider a person missing. Why should she believe anything Malfoy told her anyway? He was just trying to make her feel bad, just trying to get a rise out of her. Well, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Still, the words hurt. Why hadn't they gone to the professors yet? They knew she would never miss a class, and she wasn't showing up to meals like usual either. Surely they would be trying to find her. Even if they hadn't gone to the professors, Harry and Ron were very big on doing things on their own. But something this serious?

No, I will not allow Malfoy to get to me, she decided as tears were threatening to fall. He either didn't know the whole truth or was lying. Her friends would have noticed and they would have been trying to find her. She curled up on the bed, willing herself not to cry. After everything she had gone through in the last day, Malfoy had to throw it in her face, he had to try to make her believe that her friends didn't care about her. They did, they did care. Malfoy was just being cruel. That was the Malfoy she expected, that was the Malfoy who was now keeping her alive.

1995 - February

It was the second task of the triwizard tournament and Draco, among some of his fellow Slytherins had come, supporting Cedric. When they announced who the champions would be saving, Draco was surprised to hear Granger's name be called, and even more surprised with his own reaction. Supposedly, she was the one who Krum would miss the most and for some reason, this bothered him. He had to get this out of his head! It had been a while since the Yule ball at Christmas but Draco was having a lot of problems thinking of Granger as the gross mudblood he was supposed to. He was supposed to want to insult her, want to make her upset, but now, strangely, he didn't. He had to do it anyway to keep up appearances. He couldn't let anybody else find out about his little attraction. That was all this was. He needed to ignore this and focus on himself again, but now, it seemed as though her life was in the hands of Krum and he couldn't think of anything else.

He tried to convince himself that there was nothing wrong with this arrangement, that it was actually a good thing, that he could laugh while the mudblood drowned and act disappointed when she was saved. Something deep inside him cringed at the thought. He stared out at the water where he knew Granger was already submerged and found himself wondering if she was alright. No. He turned his head determinedly back to his friends who were being entertained by Potter's tardiness.

Potter was late for his big event and Weasley was going to be waiting down in the lake while his rescuer got his beauty sleep. How fitting. They were supposed to be diving in the lake at any minute and Potter was nowhere to be seen. Some people were getting a little antsy. Maybe he wouldn't make it.

That was when Potter ran in all huffing for breath, apologizing in his pathetic way and telling them he was ready. It was quite hilarious to watch.

Finally, the clock started and the champions dove in. It was so much more boring than he had expected. They couldn't even see what was going on! It was cold outside and they were just sitting there, waiting. Draco wanted to see the hostages tied there under the water, he wanted to see the excitement of any obstacles the champions had to go through to rescue them. Hostages. Granger was one of those hostages. Draco subtly looked over at Dumbledore. Surely he wouldn't actually let anything happen to them, would he? He scolded himself. No, he should not be thinking of Granger that way! He could not be concerned for her welfare! He didn't care what happened to her! He couldn't. He'd be socially dead if his friends found out, and possibly physically injured if his parents found out. This was so against the rules. It was the worst form of disobedience he could possibly commit! Draco had to control himself. This was all just some silly little attraction.

Granger was beautiful. He admitted that. If any other Slytherin got their nose out of their prejudices they would see that too. But she had dirty blood, she didn't even deserve to carry a wand. She wasn't a real witch. Draco told himself that the only reason she was able to play the part was because she was smart and manipulative. Wasn't that what he was always taught? Those mudbloods stole their magic and the ones to get away with it must be pretty intelligent to make up for what they lack in magical abilities, abilities that were not rightfully theirs. So yes, Granger was beautiful, she was smart, and he had a small attraction to her. The real problem came in where he started to question everything he was told about people like her. Draco had seen her work with magic and she didn't seem less capable than anyone else. He couldn't keep thinking like this! Of course, she was undeserving, and was intelligent enough to make the other houses think that she was a real witch.

Those old arguments that Draco kept rolling around and around in his head in an attempt to convince himself of Granger's inadequacy just wouldn't stick, and as time went on, he felt his heart rate increase. Worry, concern. He wasn't supposed to be having these feelings for a mudblood! Her safety wasn't supposed to matter to him!

Time seemed to inch by ever so slowly. Finally, Cedric broke the surface with Cho Chang. Draco cheered along with his friends, but was secretly still watching the surface for Granger. Why did this bother him so much to think that she might be in danger? He didn't like it one bit.

Once Krum reached the surface with Granger, he noticeably relaxed. Now, hopefully, he could enjoy the rest of the time with his friends, without thinking about her. That was the goal anyway. He needed to stump this attraction before it grew into anything. Not like it ever was going to. Draco tried to forget about her and celebrated Cedric's win.

1997

Draco sat on his bed, running his fingers through his hair. How could he say that to her? He knew he was supposed to be treating her badly to keep her from seeing the truth, but that was just cruel and unnecessary. To tell her that her friends would just get over her and move on without even trying to look for her? How could he say something like that? Well, he had now done his job of keeping her hating him that was for sure. She just wanted to know what was going on, to know how her friends were, that they were alright. And there he went telling her that they didn't even care. In his mind, they really didn't care enough, but he couldn't be telling her that.

There he went again, hurting Hermione when he had vowed not to. He wanted to fix this but he wasn't sure how to do that without showing his care. Ugh, this was all so frustrating. Not only did he do this to himself, he kept doing it to Hermione.

It was getting late and Draco was definitely hungry, wondering if Hermione was as well. He got up from the bed and hoped that she wouldn't still be outside his door. He would make dinner and if she wanted to eat it she could, or not. He wasn't supposed to care.

Slowly, he opened the door, relieved to see Hermione had, in fact, left. It would make preparing the dinner so much easier. He moved into the kitchen and got out the ingredients. At first he hated doing things for himself, it was so much of a hassle. He always used to use magic to make it easier, but now, he found the monotonous slicing and chopping somewhat relaxing. It cleared his mind and helped him think logically about things.

Draco was expecting to be called to the Dark Lord within the next week or so. This thought terrified him and he needed something to keep his mind from going back to all of his problems and worries. Would he be able to hide his mind from him? He had to believe he could. If he couldn't, it would mean a very painful death for both Hermione and himself.

Soon, he had two plates of food ready. He took one and sat down at the table, stuffing a bite into his mouth. He chewed slowly, wondering what Hermione was doing at that moment, what she was thinking. If she was hungry, would she come out and get some food? Would she let herself go hungry just because she didn't want to see him? Hermione was smart, but she was also stubborn.

He looked at the plate of food sitting on the counter and sighed, put down his fork and stood up to take the food to her. He wouldn't stay, or speak to her, just drop off the food. Draco grabbed it and this time knocked on the door, just in case. When there was no response, he just walked in, carrying the plate over to the night table again.

Hermione was curled up on the bed, facing away from him.

"Just stay away from me!" She sounded both hurt and angry.

"I'm bringing you food Granger," he told her, annoyed.

"Oh," she said softly and turned her head to face him though she wouldn't meet his eye. "Thanks."

Without saying another word, as was his plan, he placed the food on the table and turned to leave.

"Hermione." Draco froze as she said her own name. He didn't look back at her. She sounded a little uncertain as she continued. "You called me Hermione earlier."

Draco knew exactly what she was talking about. He had hoped she would have been too out of it to remember, but apparently she did. In his panic, he had slipped and called her by her first name, which he had never done before; at least not out loud. He wondered what her point of bringing it up was. Did she want to humiliate him? Surely she didn't want a conversation with him, especially after what he had told her. Maybe she was just curious. She hadn't asked a question per say, but it was implied. She wanted a reason. Why was this such a big deal to her? Why was her need to know so strong that she had to bring it up, even after he had said what he did to her?

What could he say? There was no way to tell her any sort of truth as to the reason. He had been using her first name all year in his head, and he worked very hard to keep from slipping up. It had just started to seem almost disrespectful to her to keep thinking of her as Granger, and besides, Hermione was a strong and beautiful name, well reflecting the person she had become. But now, it all seemed to backfire.

"Just thought you'd respond to it better is all," he finally replied and quickly exited the room, shutting the door behind him. He squeezed his eyes shut in an exaggerated wince at his own words. Surely she would see right through that and he did not like the possible outcome of her usual insight.

Hermione stared after Malfoy as he left the room. He had paused in answering and in that moment of silence, she could see a hint of panic in his eyes. None of this made any sense! Maybe she was just seeing things. He saved her life, then treated her like trash, when she collapsed, he didn't hesitate to help, but then he said cruel things just to hurt her before making her dinner and bringing it to her. Maybe all those things that may seem to be caring were a just her own imagination, that they were really only to keep her alive because his conscience wouldn't let her die. Maybe nothing had changed and he was just as nasty as he always had been.

Although, he had not looked calm and rational when she had collapsed. Quite the opposite really. Logic would have added up to his answer, not the concerned panic that he had shown. She may not have been all that conscious of her surroundings at the time, but she did remember his look of urgency.

Hermione didn't know why she even bothered to ask. It wasn't like he would ever give her a straight answer about something like that. If he really had been concerned for her, which he probably wasn't, but if he was, wouldn't he had slipped back into what he usually called her? Granger? But he hadn't. In that moment, he had used her first name. Something seemed off to her.

Hermione pulled the plate off the table beside her and placed it in her lap, beginning to eat. She had to remind herself that Malfoy was making this himself, without the help of house elves. She was learning that he was much different than he made himself out to be. He hid a lot of things from the rest of the world. Maybe that was what was going on, why the contradicting actions. He was brought up to believe one thing, but it seemed as though his heart was telling him what was right was something different. Maybe he was trying to act the way he was expected to and it was conflicting with how he wanted to be acting. Perhaps Malfoy wasn't as horrible as he came across.

She put another bite into her mouth, thinking about how much he was going through if his heart was taking him in a different direction from where his life was going. Now, that didn't excuse his horrible behaviour, but it did make sense. Hermione's heart was unsure about Malfoy. After everything he had said to her, everything he had done to people she cared about, it was difficult to say that he was anything but a cruel bully. Her brain, however, told her that maybe, he was just as confused as she was.

Author's Note:

I hope this chapter was alright. I wasn't so sure about it, didn't really like it for some reason. But oh, well. I said I would post Tuesday so I did. A big thanks to SereniteRose for the review on chapter 4! Please let me know if there is anything I could improve in this chapter. I didn't have as much time to edit this time because of work and going back to school today. I think I am going to change my updating day to Sunday to make it a bit easier to edit in time. Since University has started up again, I am going to have even less time to edit and write. Hopefully, I'll be able to stick to my weekly updating schedule, but reviews will definitely help to motivate me!

Thanks for reading!