For the next few days, updating is going to be really easy for me since it's the first two days off I've had in awhile. So, count on that! :D I'm super excited to see how this is going to evolve! God, I can't tell you how many things I've looked up regarding HP, and hell, I even rented DH Pt.2. I'm becoming more and more obsessed as this goes on… Oh my oh my oh my. Review Review Review! (Also, I recommend listening to Radiohead while you read this… It certainly worked for me.)

Chapter 5:

"Keep that shield up, Neville!" called Hermione as she made her way around the Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom. "Neville, you're losing it! Concentrate!"

McGonagall was pacing opposite Hermione, instructing the thirty-plus students in the classroom on jinxes. Hermione's lot was focusing on shielding from those jinxes. Just as she got to Luna, Neville's shield broke and the jinx sent by Michael Corner hit him in the chest, sending him flying back and toppling over a few desks. Luna merely looked at Corner, bidding him a good job. Hermione had to stiffen a laugh.

"Very good, Mr. Corner. Next time, try not to damage school property," McGonagall said as she walked behind him. "Try it again."

Neville hurried to his feet, pulling his dirty black sweater down, and aiming his wand at Corner. "Ready, Corner? Give me all you got, you git!"

McGonagall and Hermione locked eyes, almost painfully. Neville conjured his shield, and Michael squared his shoulders, looking uncertain.

"Focus, Mr. Corner," McGonagall said, now stopping to his right. "Aim for Mr. Longbottom's chest."

Neville's intense eyes bore from behind his shield. With a half-hearted glance to McGonagall, probably worried he would send Neville flying once again, Michael shouted, "Impedimenta!" The green jinx hit Neville's shield, and it repelled it, sending it flying into the stone floor. Seamus clapped Neville on the back with a smile.

"Great work, Neville! Keep that going!" Hermione encouraged.

"Mr. Finnigan!" McGonagall said sternly, as she noticed Seamus egging Dean on to jinx him right in the chest. "It appears as though you've rubbed off on Mr. Longbottom."

"No, ma'am, he's rubbed off on me," laughed Seamus, practically jumping up and down in excitement from his taunts. "Let me see what you got, Dean, c'mon now!"

Dean raised his wand to his best friend, as Seamus flicked his wand. "Protego!" The wavy shield intercepted between them. Neville raised a hand in encouragement.

"One knut," whispered Corner to Zacharias.

"Two," Zac replied, leaning his head a little. The room had become silent since Seamus challenged his best friend. McGonagall crossed her arms; whatever made it work.

"Impedimenta!" yelled Dean, a rush of green light streaming out of his wand and hitting Seamus' well placed shield. But, the shield broke under the pressure of Dean. Quickly, Seamus' features hardened as he began to back up.

"Incarcerous!" Seamus yelled, sending a jet of black ropes from the tip of his wand. Dean easily repelled them with a flick of his wand.

"Obsurco!" Dean swirled his wand, causing a blindfold to appear over Seamus' eyes. "Petrificus Totalus!"

Seamus froze in his tracks, a laugh etched on his frozen face. Neville raced out to clap Dean on the back as the room began to cheer. Corner held out his hand for Zac to put his Knut into. With a growl, Zac stuffed two Knuts into his palm and joined Hermione in un-petrifying Seamus. When Seamus awoke, he pulled off the blindfold and jumped up with a quirky grin.

"Good job Dean!" he exclaimed. "Always knew you had it in ya!"

"Very good, Mr. Thomas," McGonagall nodded her head. "Anyone else want to try?"

"I do," Zac said, stepping in front of the crowd. The rest of the students backed away so it was only he and Hermione in the rectangular space. Hermione sighed: What was he playing at? He couldn't beat her and he knew it.

"Very well," McGonagall said. "Miss Granger."

Under the immense pressure of everyone watching her, Hermione raised her wand. Zac raised his in turn. The two locked eyes from across the room: his ocean blue ones on her hazel ones. At that very moment, Hermione couldn't help but notice how good looking Zac had become. His dirty blonde hair shone under the light, he had become muscular, and even the underneath of his white shirt had come untucked in his private dueling matches. He was almost unkempt.

"Relashio!" Hermione yelled, sending a wave of ivory light out of her wand.

"Protego Maxima!" Zac bellowed, sweeping his wand across his face, causing his shield to absorb the spell. "Stupefy!"

"Protego!" She was impressed. So far, Zac was keeping her on her toes. "Confrigo!"

After a few more attempts at shooting spells at one another, they resorted to not speaking their spells. Hermione used a Confundo Charm in an attempt to daze him, but he reflected that into the wall. She took a deep breath to calm herself and sent sparks of fire shooting out of her wand to which Zac countered with a water spell. McGonagall's eyes raised. Hermione shot a stunning jinx across the room, which caught Zac off guard, sending him fumbling backwards. She used that moment, bringing her wand back, and using all her might, produced a large wave of light that sent Zac flying back into the stone wall. He fell to the ground, but quickly gave a thumbs up.

"That was the most fun I've had in ages. Care for another go, Granger?" he asked. She saw there was blood coming from his lip. Suddenly, she felt responsible.

"No, no, you're bleeding," she said and pointed to her lip. Zac touched his fingertips to his lip, then wiped it off with his sleeve.

"Ah, well. Just goes to show I can't beat you yet. I may have to keep practicing," he said with a grin. Seamus eyed Hermione curiously to which she rolled her eyes.

"That's enough for today," McGonagall said. "I want you all out of here before anything else gets destroyed. Go on now. We'll meet tomorrow."

The room cleared out fairly quickly, but Hermione stayed behind, tapping her wand against her hands. She was deep in thought about Harry and Ron, and how she would've loved for them to be here with her now.

"Is something on your mind, Miss Granger?" McGonagall asked as she sat behind her desk.

"Yes and no," she sighed.

"How is Mr. Malfoy?"

"He's… reading," she stumbled on her words, still lost in thoughts of her best friends.

"Reading? I hardly expected that of him."

"Me too," she shrugged. Then, a thought occurred to her. "Professor, what is to happen to him if we get attacked? Shouldn't he have means to protect himself?"

McGonagall sighed and removed her glasses. "Indeed he should. The problem is: I can't trust Mr. Malfoy with a wand right now, Miss Granger. You of all people should understand this –"

"What if he practices for just a few hours a day?" Hermione chirped, not knowing what even possessed her to ask.

"I have to say that I don't think he's ready yet. When you are sure he is not volatile and won't try anything to escape, we will see," McGonagall told her.

"I just wish he would stop being such an ass. It's almost as though he gloats me on just to see what my reaction to him is going to be."

"Now, that sounds more like the Draco Malfoy I've known for seven years," McGonagall chuckled. "You could always ignore him, Miss Granger. For some reason, it's worked on men for several centuries."

"Ignore him?" Hermione repeated. Why hadn't she thought of that?

"Yes. Let me know how it goes. You may be in for a surprise," the Professor gave her a smile. "Good job today. If I'm not mistaken, it seems as though you may have an admirer."

Zac. "Yes, he's been trying to see me quite a bit lately. The feeling is not reciprocated, Professor. I have… bigger things on my plate."

"I understand," McGonagall had a grandmotherly look in her eyes. "Don't try to get your hopes up, Hermione, dear. You can't force someone to change and see things the way you do. They only change when they want too."

"I know, Professor, thank you. I really must be going. I have papers due in the morning," Hermione murmured and took her exit.

As she walked back to her dorm, she couldn't help but wonder why she had asked McGonagall to let Malfoy have his wand back. That was incredibly dangerous… She didn't understand it herself. Her thoughts fell on Harry and Ron again, and how just two years ago, they had formed the D.A. Look how far it had come now. Merlin, she hoped they were okay and would send word soon. It had been months since she had heard from them. Then, her thoughts fell on Zac and how he looked at her before they dueled. How she thought he had grown up to be a good looking young man; full of promise. Then, right before the panther on her door came into view, she thought of Malfoy and the hell that she was about to walk into as soon as she muttered her password.

Draco was waiting for her, on the couch, with a book in his lap. When he looked up and saw her petite form come inside, he knew she didn't notice him. He let her walk over to the kitchen and drop her bag on the table before dropping the book loudly on the floor and standing up. Hermione twitched only slightly to his disappointment.

"So, what did you learn today, Mudblood?" he asked sarcastically, walking up behind her.

Hermione eyed her room. She could just go in there and ignore him, like McGonagall advised her too. "Nothing you would be interested in."

"Oh? Not surprising. You were probably too busy dreaming about that red haired weasel to concentrate in class."

She missed it when they weren't arguing. Draco stared at her from the side, noting how she didn't flinch at his words or actions. He waited for her to bite her bottom lip before she spat him, like she always did. But, it didn't come. He reasoned the only reason he knew that she did that was because after you live in isolation with a person for so long, you begin to know their every move: how they react, how they speak. It wasn't because he was growing accustomed to her. It was because he had nothing better to do these days than to notice these things in his long hours of nothingness.

But, today, she didn't try to render an argument back. Her cherry colored lips didn't spit fire at him like they had for the past few months. Not knowing what to do, his fists curled into balls at his sides, his anger flaring in grey eyes. How dare she ignore him.

"I will not be ignored by you, Granger!"

Hermione wasn't paying that close of attention to him. Her thoughts were on Harry and Ron and her parents… Anything to keep her from coming back to the reality she was in. He demanded that she look at him, and slowly, she raised her hazel eyes from his socks to his grey orbs. They were angry, desperate even. But tonight, she wasn't giving into him.

"Fucking Mudblood! Say something to me!" he roared in her face.

"I feel sorry for you," she said, and it was quite the truth. It was all that needed to be said. Seeing the look of surprise in his eyes, she turned and went into her bedroom without another word.

Draco lowered himself to his bed after shouting a few nasty comments at her bedroom door. When he hadn't gotten a response, he realized that the argument was over and she wasn't coming out. But, she had said she felt sorry for him. Sorry for what? For him being trapped in this hell-hole with her? Stupid Gryffindor's, always feeling sorry for people, always trying to be heroes, always trying to cover up their stupidity with bravery…

He couldn't wrap his head around it. Why had she said that she was sorry for him? The more he thought about it, the more it screwed with his head. She shouldn't have had to sympathize to him. She shouldn't have done anything at all except stand there while he yelled at her.

Because the yelling helped.

But, so did her eyes. Her gazes. Her singing in the mornings that reminded him of home.

Draco stripped himself down and lowered himself onto his bed, pulling the covers up to his shoulders. He could feel the walls closing in on him now and his claustrophobia really beginning to set in. With a sigh, he turned over to see a sixth year Herbology book sitting on his bedside table. He needed something to do to keep him from overanalyzing… So, he pulled the book to him and began to read. Even then, his thoughts couldn't keep from replaying those five words in his head: "I feel sorry for you."

The two companions ignored eachother for the better part of the weekend. Hermione would always wake Draco in the mornings directly at eight with her heavy footing and moving around, but she would sing the lyrics to songs he would never know that lulled him back to sleep. He didn't know what was worse: that she woke him up every morning and interrupted his precious sleep or that she was able to make him fall back asleep not ten minutes later by merely singing.

Even though he attempted to focus on reading in his lonely hours, his mind always came around to why she was sympathizing. What could she possibly gain? It was humiliating having a Mudblood feel sorry for you.

He still wasn't sleeping well. He awoke with his head throbbing and his body covered in sweat. Draco thought being back at Hogwarts would soothe his nightmares, but evidently, he was wrong. It was always the same: on the Astronomy Tower, Potter attacking him, blood… So much blood. Every morning, he would awake with a start, bitter and pissed at the world. But, the moment she began to sing, he always felt his eyelids droop, and the warmth crawl back up his spine. If this were a different life, he would've complimented her on how beautiful her voice was. Instead, he lay in his bed, head hung in relish, that only she was able to make him fall back asleep.

Hermione's classes the next week weren't incredibly difficult. Instead of going back to her dorm where the Slytherin was, she would retreat to the library, where she would do her homework, catch up on sleep, or do a little bit of both. During the evenings, she would practice with the D.A. and attempt to escape from Zac's advances towards her. No matter if he fancied her, she didn't fancy him, and it was becoming irritating. Seamus would point out when Zac glanced at her, or the hopeful smiles he shot in her direction. After telling Seamus to bugger off, once a little too meanly, he had stopped but asked Hermione not to let him down easy because he was the biggest prat Seamus knew. It didn't help that the Head Boy and Head Girl were forced to do things together, like figure Prefect duties, go to Quidditch games, and plan school events together. There were times where she was actually happy to escape Zac's clutches and go to her dorm because at least there, she could express her anger. In front of Zac, well, that was out of the question.

Draco noticed when Hermione didn't come home when she was supposed to. He had memorized her schedule from the moment she woke up to the moment she went to bed, and wasn't proud of it. But, what else was there to do? The days were becoming jumbled, and honestly, he didn't even know what day it was. Gradually, she was spending less and less time in her dorm, and more and more time out in the castle. But, what was she doing? Did she have a lover? That thought gave him an odd sensation in his chest. He hardly thought that she would abuse her Head Girl authority by harassing first-years, so where in the world was she? This thought occurred to him as he paced back and forth in their kitchen that night, hands behind his back.

It was nearing two in the morning, and he was hungry. All of the dry food, he had already consumed and he still hadn't any idea how to make something good without magic. So, once again, he was completely at the Mudblood's mercy. Bloody humiliating.

Draco continued to pace back and forth, lost in his own thoughts. He didn't notice the doorknob open, and he didn't see Hermione sneak in. Their dorm was dark except for a few streaks of tattered moonlight coming in through the windows, but even that wasn't enough to illuminate the room. Quietly, Hermione made her way to the refrigerator, but not before colliding with a strong back in the process and tumbling to the floor.

"What the f—" Draco turned and caught her by her wrist. It was instinct, nothing more. But, the force of her body falling backwards made him fall down with her. She hit the front of the cabinets, and he hit the back of his head on the edge of the kitchen table. He had let her wrist go at some point, maybe when it was inevitable that both of them were going to fall, and now they were on opposite sides of the kitchen, staring at one another in with startled eyes.

"Malfoy! What are you doing?" Hermione demanded, her hand over her rapidly beating heart.

"Bloody hell, Granger! Don't you ever watch where you're going?" Malfoy snarled. He winced as he brought his hand to the back of his head. Blood. So it did leave a gash.

"It's dark, I didn't see you –"

"Yeah, that much is apparent," he growled.

"I'm not used to running into someone when I'm on my way to bed. Don't try to start another argument with me, Malfoy, now is really not the time –"

"Did it sound like I was trying to start an argument with you, Granger? No, so piss off," Draco replied with gritted teeth. The back of his head was throbbing.

Hermione clamored to her feet and turned the lights on to the kitchen, seeing the pool of blood collecting on the back of Draco's head and side of his face. With concern, she knelt down beside him.

"You're bleeding. When you fell you must've hit your head –"

Draco scowled. "Yes, Granger, thank you for pointing out the fucking obvious. I am bleeding –"

"Let me look at it," Hermione muttered, not giving him much of a choice other than to let her do it. He rolled his grey eyes, but allowed her to move his blonde hair back to examine the deep gash in his head. Even as she did that, his eyes squinted together painfully. He never did handle pain well… "I'm going to heal it for you."

"I don't need you to heal –"

"Shut up," she commanded, and he could feel the warm tingle of healing on the base of his spine.

He had never forgotten how magic made him feel: warm and giddy. It reached up to where the gash was, and even though he couldn't physically see it, he knew the gash was being healed by Granger's wand. It was a soothing sensation, and for a few moments, his eyes were no longer squinted shut, just closed, enjoying it. Another sensation came as well: the feeling of soft fingertips on the base of his shoulder and neck. His eyes popped open to see Granger was balancing herself so she could heal him properly. It had been a long time since he had felt another human's skin against his own. The last time, which he remembered with distaste, had been Pansy, about a year ago. Their on again off again relationship was tedious and confusing, and he had left in the past a long time ago. Granger's touch wasn't like Pansy's… It was softer, filled with care and innocence. He found himself enjoying it and wondered if under different circumstances –

"All finished," Hermione sat back on her ankles, waiting for him to say something. But, he didn't.

Thinking of Pansy reminded him that he was, in fact, a Slytherin and Slytherins are not meant to be touched or helped or healed by Gryffindor's. He did not thank her, instead he bounded to his feet when his instincts became clear of where he was and what had happened.

"I didn't need your help, Mudblood," he snarled down at her, his fists tightly balled at his sides.

"Malfoy, I just wanted to help..."

"Don't ever touch me again," he warned her.

Draco noticed that through their altercation, her cardigan had come off and her white shirt was speckled with drops of red. Her tie was loose and her hair had fallen out of its ponytail. They had even managed to put a rip in the right leg of her stockings. For some reason, seeing her tussled was somewhat… alluring. Muttering a string of swear words, he retreated to his room, leaving Hermione on the floor, confused and alone.

Why did I even entertain that idea?! He paced around his bedroom, just as he was pacing before, occasionally kicking things like the dresser or the bedframe. Why was she alluring? Was it her smell, her singing, what was it? Draco racked his head for reason, but couldn't find it. He had seen many girls tousled, with their ties slack around their necks, and their shirts halfway unbuttoned. After all, he was Draco Malfoy. The memories of girls leaving his dorm bed, buttoning their shirts and putting their hair back up into ponytails were many. But, Pansy hadn't even allured him in the way that Granger did, and he had seen every inch of Pansy. What did this mean? Wherever these confused feelings went, he didn't like it. Finally, he settled on the fact that Hermione was messing with his head. Even if it wasn't completely true, the thought made him feel better enough to fall asleep.