Disclaimer: JK Rowling is the wonderful mind behind the magic, I just get to play around with it

1997 – February 28

Hermione stood in the same spot, frozen, a hand coming up to cover her mouth.

Malfoy was a Death Eater. She had seen the mark on his skin. It wasn't like she didn't already suspect that he would have it, he had been sent by Voldemort to kill her after all. But, still, he seemed so young. Hermione wondered if he had even been given a choice. His father was a Death Eater and she knew his mother also ran in those circles. It didn't seem that he wanted it to be there. She could see the shame in his eyes. He seemed so angry and hurt that she found out.

Hermione consciously lowered her hand to her side and took a deep breath to calm her speeding pulse. This was not what she had expected to happen that night. A bit of awkwardness, yes; an argument, possibly; but seeing his snake-like mark, not a chance.

Draco had a direct link to Voldemort himself and Hermione needed a minute to get over the shock, as well as the fear that had leaped to the front of her mind at the thought.

Sure, the sight of the mark seeming to move on his skin, being darkened and defined as if it were to leap off his arm and do the evil deeds of its master, it frightened her, but somehow, she knew he wouldn't harm her. Draco seemed so hurt when she took a step or two backward subconsciously. He must have taken it to mean that she was afraid of him. Hermione didn't think that was quite true. Not anymore at least. She may not know this Draco, but she knew the mark didn't define the person. People could change. Hermione was a firm believer that any Death Eater could come to their senses and join the other side.

Malfoy didn't know that though.

She couldn't imagine what it must feel like to have somebody look at you with fear when you meant them no harm, especially if that fear was based on something you had no choice in.

At this point, Malfoy's will in that regard was completely speculation and only a few days earlier, she may have agreed with Harry that he might have wanted the mark. But after seeing a different side to him every once in a while, she had a changed perspective. She must think this other side was worth getting to know because she had joined him for dinner.

Why had she decided to sit with him at dinner? She guessed it was because she was lonely. She wasn't used to being alone, with no one to talk to for weeks at a time. Hermione missed her friends terribly and wanted something to remind her of school, even if it was Malfoy.

She also hadn't had a chance to thank him for his decision to go against his orders, though, she was not expecting the response she received. He appeared almost upset by her thanks. Then he mumbled that the decision was not in fact difficult for him and she thought she needed to hear it again, just to make sure she heard it correctly. If he hated her, wouldn't that automatically make the decision not to kill her more difficult, especially with the consequences surrounding sparing her life?

Then, he had come out and said it.

He didn't hate her.

Hermione was shocked, but for some reason, she was also relieved. What did any of this even mean? Why did those words hold so much significance for her? Why did she care if Malfoy hated her or not? You want him to like you. Hermione disregarded the ridiculous thought as soon as it entered her mind. Of course she didn't want Draco Malfoy to like her. In fact, she really didn't care at all if he hated her or not.

But the small voice continued to pry and question. If Malfoy really didn't hate her, then why did he treat her so badly in school? He had said that things were complicated, but that wasn't good enough! She craved details, specifics, and his few words on the topic gave her practically nothing but more questions. Hermione wanted to ask him so many things, but knew that as soon as she started, he would shut down.

She wondered if any of his Slytherin friends were also Death Eaters. Did Malfoy have anyone who knew? Did he have anyone to talk to that understood? Maybe Malfoy was more alone than she was. Was that the reason she had decided to eat dinner with him? Because she saw that he was lonely?

Hermione felt an undeniable urge to tell him that he hadn't frightened her, let him know that he wasn't alone now, or at least he didn't have to be.

Before she could stop herself, her legs were moving and she was knocking on his door. There was no answer. She took a deep breath, instantly regretting her impulsive behaviour. She should not be wanting to comfort him, it was wrong, it was irrational. He was a Death Eater for goodness sake! He had said and done horrible things to her when they were at school.

It's the right thing to do. Knock again, that small part of herself pushed. So, she rapped her knuckles against the door once more, ignoring the other portion of her more rational self that told her this was completely illogical.

"Malfoy?" she called.

The door whipped open and Draco Malfoy stood before her, scowling. He had changed his clothes so that his left forearm was covered again and Hermione thought she saw some evidence that he had been crying. Was it because of the pain or was it because of what the mark represented? Her breath caught as she saw for the first time how broken he really was. It was as if the mask he normally wore had cracked and that small break revealed, even the tiniest bit, of what was really happening inside him.

"What do you want?" he growled, though he had lost the intimidating edge to the demanding words that he had in school.

She cleared her throat. "I'm not afraid of you," Hermione told him. He seemed a bit taken aback by the words. "I've just never seen one before. It wasn't you that frightened me," she added.

"Maybe you should be afraid of me," he said darkly and tried to close the door, but Hermione stuck her arm out to hold it open. She wasn't finished. She needed to finish. Before she lost this irrational courage, he needed to hear what she was saying.

Hermione shook her head. "It doesn't define you. You define who you are." She knew it sounded horribly cheesy, a complete cliché, but she also somehow knew that they were the words that were necessary for him to hear.

"You don't know me," he replied.

She thought about all of his conflicting actions. It seemed as though he was trying to push her away, trying to make the world hate him and something was definitely off with all the contradiction. This something was making Hermione question the facts, doubt what her and her friends thought they knew. It made her head spin and her heart ache. And she just knew that there was so much more to Draco Malfoy than the world saw.

"I know enough to say that you're not who the rest of the world thinks you are and maybe who you want them to see." When Malfoy didn't respond, she continued. "You are a cruel bully when you are with your friends, always tearing others down just for fun. Then here, there are moments when you are actually kind to me, a muggle-born. I won't pretend to understand what is going on in your life. But I do know that the dark mark is not the whole story." She took a breath and stepped back from the door, wondering if she had pushed too far, noticing a slight shake in her hands from the rushing of nervous adrenaline.

As they stood in front of each other in silence, Hermione considered what she should do. If she was right, they both needed someone to talk to. If she was right, Malfoy truly had no one. Hermione didn't even want to imagine how that must feel. Should she just leave? She wasn't sure what would be best?

What was she thinking? He probably didn't even want her company. She should just head back to her room.

Hermione turned around and started walking slowly back to where she always hid, when he called to her.

"Wait," he sounded hesitant, as if considering each word before he said it. Hermione turned back to face him. "Say you're right. What does that make me?"

She thought. What did he want her to say? What could she say?

"Confused," she decided, knowing it was more truth than he had probably ever been told. "And alone." She paused before continuing. "Most people are you know; confused by what life throws at them. It's how you make sense of it that matters. You don't have to be alone."

"Don't you think I deserve to be alone?"

It was a question that held a lot of weight and Hermione wondered if it reflected things he had been forced to do. She didn't even want to think of what he could have done under the command of Voldemort. The question held such pain, as though he believed the answer himself was that he deserved the horrible fate of loneliness that had befallen him.

No. Malfoy was just a boy. A boy her age who had seen terrible things, had done terrible things under the threat of Voldemort's wrath. He did not deserve this.

"I don't believe anyone really deserves to be alone completely. I think it's one of the worst things to happen to a person, to be left entirely on their own." Hermione slowly moved over to a sofa and sat down, picking up one of the book selections she had left there earlier that day, just to seem less awkward than standing there.

Malfoy stayed fixed in the doorway, appearing conflicted.

Hermione realized something while regarding him standing there. It's strange how something as simple as a name can have so much meaning.

Malfoy.

The usual proud and arrogant Malfoy stance had been replaced by a slightly slumped, defeated look. The typical smirk was exchanged by an expression of sadness and shame. This was not the same boy who roamed the halls searching for anything he could drag his father's influence into. This boy was different from Malfoy.

Malfoy – Mr. Malfoy. Mr. Malfoy described his father. His father, the Death Eater. His father, who stood for the same ideals Voldemort did. His father, who let his prejudices rule his life, his future, and more than that, his son's future. Mr. Malfoy was not the boy standing in front of her, he was not his father. Hermione didn't want to be comparing him to that man every time she said his name. He was his own person. A boy with a heart, soul, and a conscience.

She looked down at the book that was open on her lap. It wasn't as if she were actually reading it, she just didn't want him to feel like she was staring at him. When she switched her gaze upward again, she noticed that he had moved to sit on the other end of the sofa.

Hermione studied him, wondering what he was thinking. He swallowed and turned his eyes toward the floor beneath his feet, slowly rubbing his hands together, almost nervously.

"Malfoy," she started. His hands stopped moving, though they were still pressed tightly together, and his eyes lifted to hers. Hermione cleared her throat. "Would…" she paused and took a breath. "Would it be alright if I called you Draco?"

He seemed slightly shocked by the proposition.

"Alright," he replied in almost a whisper. "And I should call you Hermione?"

"Yes," she said with a small smile. Hermione suspected that for some reason he had already been using her first name. Whatever reason that may be, now he could freely use it between them as well.

It wasn't much, just a switch from last to first names, but Hermione knew that it was of far more significance than simply the name itself. It was the change from formal to informal, from enemy, to a… cordial relationship? It was a sort of understanding, an agreement, that there would be no more coldness between them; that they only really had each other, so they could, cautiously, trust one another.

Trust.

A first name implied trust, familiarity, concepts that Hermione thought she would never experience when it came to Draco Malfoy, but here she was, Hermione Granger, with only him to talk to, only him to connect with the outside world, with him basically holding her life in his hands.

This thought should have terrified her; it should have sent alarm bells ringing in her head. She was trusting Draco Malfoy with her life. Harry and Ron would think that she had finally truly lost her mind. But there really wasn't another way. He had saved her, he had hidden her, he was protecting her by keeping her there, in a place that no one else knew about.

By using a first name, they were turning away from their pasts together and starting anew. And nobody could possibly know where they were headed.

1995 - September

The new school year had finally started, and it couldn't have come soon enough. It had been much easier to avoid thinking of Granger when she wasn't around all the time, but all summer, he had had to listen to his father going on and on about what good the Dark Lord was going to do in the society by ridding it of muggles and muggle-borns.

It had happened. He had returned. The thought, that less than a year ago would have been an exciting event, now terrified him. What was even more alarming was that nobody seemed to believe Potter that he was really back. Was the ministry full of fools that they thought it better to ignore the signs of the Dark Lord's return rather than to gather their strength to fight against him? They were just letting the Death Eaters get away with doing whatever they liked, running wild throughout London, torturing and murdering anyone they thought below them.

Draco reminded himself that this was supposed to be a good thing for him, or at least he had to act like it was when he was with his friends.

The new professor of Defense against the Dark arts, Umbridge, was just plain annoying and it was almost painful to look straight at the woman due to her several too many shades of pink. Draco was shocked when he went to the class to find the new text taught nothing about actually applying the spells to real life. She was going to end up getting everyone in the room killed. The ignorant witch was adamant that the Dark Lord had not returned and that Potter had just made it up to get more attention. He would have loved for Potter to have been lying, but he knew better.

Draco stared ahead of where he was sitting, at Granger. She raised her hand.

"There's nothing in here about using defensive spells," she said.

"Using spells?! Well, I can´t imagine why you would need to use spells in my classroom. You'll be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way," Umbridge replied.

Draco was stunned. Out of anyone, it was most important for Granger, and others like her, to learn how defend themselves. Especially hanging around with Potter, she was going to become a target for the Death Eaters. An image of what those evil people could do to her flashed through his mind. She had to learn how to protect herself! Even if he couldn't outright talk to her or protect her, maybe he could keep out a listening ear.

No! This was wrong! He couldn't keep doing this! Now that the Dark Lord was back, he had to be even more careful. He had to stop this or else he would put her, and himself, in even more danger.

For the rest of the class and into the coming day, Draco couldn't get her out of his head. It was as if just seeing her again after the summer brought on a whole other flood of confusing feelings and thoughts. His eyes kept finding her no matter where she was and Draco was so thankful that she remained oblivious to his gaze, hoping that no one else caught on to his uncontrollable observances.

They were at dinner when it happened.

Draco tried his hardest to focus on the food in front of him, but his appetite had been lacking since the fear of what was coming grew within him. His friends were talking around him, but he wasn't paying attention to what they were saying.

Draco's eyes slowly lifted towards the Gryffindor table where Granger was sitting amongst her intolerable friends. He didn't know how she could stand to be around them as much as she was.

She looked back at him, gazes locking for just a moment.

Draco froze. She wasn't staring at him with contempt, but simply surprise. Even from this distance, Draco could tell that her eyes sparkled with curiosity. She was beautiful.

He quickly snapped out of his haze and returned his eyes to his own table. This was really bad. Had Granger noticed how he had been watching her? Had she noticed the longing that he felt for her to just say a civil 'hello' and for him not to have to act like a complete prick?

He couldn't keep doing this. Draco couldn't let her know, couldn't let her see his confusion in the things he had been taught, the confliction of his prejudices. He couldn't even imagine the terror that would follow if she discovered the things he was struggling with.

Draco briefly closed his eyes, desperately hoping he hadn't been too obvious, that his expression had been much more cold and disdainful than he felt.

"You alright mate?" Blaise asked.

Draco's heart began thudding wildly in his chest as he realized his friends could have also noticed the little exchange he had with Granger.

"Yes, a headache just came on," he replied smoothly. "I think I'm going to turn in early." Draco excused himself from the table and headed back to the Slytherin dungeons.

This needed to stop. He needed to go back to only thinking of himself. He was the pureblood, he was all that mattered, not some mudblood. He had to go back to the beliefs he had always been taught. He would make this more dangerous for himself if he kept this up. He didn't need to go and make this time even more terrifying for himself by going soft on mudbloods!

Author's Note:

Happy Sunday! I hope your guys enjoyed it! Thank-you for the reviews bennettfan84, FortyFandoms, and whoever the two guest reviews were! I really appreciate your opinions!

FortyFandoms – I have something planned that I hope you'll like! I loved reading your theory!

I had a guest review thinking that Hermione would be angry with how Draco acted, and maybe some others feel that way as well, but in my opinion, she would analyze the situation a bit and be more shocked than anything. It was obvious that Draco was in pain and ashamed of the mark, hiding like he did. I think Hermione would be quite logical and compassionate about the situation.

Thanks to everyone who favorited, followed, and read!

Please review! School's getting busier and reading your thoughts makes me more motivated to get my school work done quickly so I can have a thouroughly edited chapter up for you on Sunday!

Sorry for the long author's note! Hope you all have an amazing week!

(Review, review, review)