The next day, Hermione slumped to the bathroom and knocked lightly.
"I'll be out in a minute, Granger. I promise I won't take long."
"I doubt it," she muttered. "You and all your beauty products." She sat on the couch and took observation of the common room. It was all very lovely. It wasn't catered to either of their houses. It was subtle with its neutral greens, greys, and soft blues. The plush couch was surrounded by comfortable loveseats and recliners, facing the crackling fireplace. Their separate quarters were on opposite sides and in between them, behind the living room area, the bathroom was placed. There were windows on each side of the bathroom, the one on the left, next to her room, being her personally designated smoking area. Near Malfoy's room was the small kitchenette area. Hermione assumed it was already stocked with food, but she hadn't bothered to check. The only table present for them to dine on was the coffee table in front of the couch. Of course, hypothetically, she could eat on the desk provided in her room.
Her room, however, was adorned with shades of ruby red, glittery gold, and soft greys. Her bed was a magnificent four poster, large enough to fit at least three people comfortably. Its canopy was a sheer gold with subtle red sparkles and the comforter was red, matching the pillows which were ruby, trimmed with gold tassels. She had a spiral staircase that lead to an astronomical observatory, filled with books of all genres and varying telescopes. Draco interrupted her from her reverie, clearing his throat. "The bathroom is all yours, Granger."
Hermione nodded, and quickly went into the lavatory. She hadn't quite had the chance to marvel at it yet. The room was obviously charmed to be bigger on the inside. 'Much like the TARDIS," she mused to herself, thinking of her favourite muggle television show. It had a large pool-esque tub, much like the one in the prefects' bathroom. Its counter was long and extensive, with three sinks. Beside it was a vanity counter with plenty of space that displayed their toiletries on either of their respectable sides. She was shocked to see that Malfoy didn't have quite as many beauty products. What really shocked her, however, were the potions that were on the far right side. "Acne, scar healing, weight loss..." A throat cleared behind her.
Hermione jumped. "M-Malfoy. I- what are you doing in here? I said I was using the bathroom!"
"Yeah, and you left the bloody door open while you were marvelling at the bathroom. So nice, isn't it? The vanity mirrors with our names engraved, the self-refilling closet. Oh! And my personal items." His voice was dripping with acidic sarcasm, despite his personal promise to be nice to her.
"I'm sorry, Malfoy. They were right there, in the open, and I-"
"And you what? You thought you, Potter, and Weasley would get a nice right laugh out of it?!" He moved quickly to grab his potions from her confused gaze and she flinched. A flash of fear was noticeably bright in her eyes. Immediately, Draco felt bad and without thinking, grasped her hand. "I'm so sorry, Granger. I'm didn't mean to scare you."
"You didn't-" she began defensively before Draco interrupted her.
"I was one of the Death Eaters and I get scared easily. It must be worse for you." Tears were brewing in his eyes and he hung his head, sulking out of the room. Hermione followed behind him.
"Why do you have the scar healing potion?" She asked softly, forgetting any animosity between the two.
"Because healing charms only heal wounds. They don't make the scars disappear forever." Draco sat on the couch, trying not to cry in front of her.
"I'm aware of that. I mean, what are the scars from?"
"A- a plethora of sources." He choked out. To both their surprise, Hermione sat next to him and pulled him to her chest when she noticed him crying. She stroked his back softly as sobs started wracking in his chest. She could only pick up a few words he muttered, seemingly unaware he was doing it. "My fault... scars... cuts... disgrace... so beautiful... death... Azkaban..."
"Hey... Draco..." Hermione said soothingly, "why don't you tell me what's wrong?"
"But... but you hate me. Why would you care?" That statement seemed to bring back to reality who they were but it strangely didn't change her urge to help him. She hated seeing people who seemed as miserable as she was. She stuttered out a response and Draco cut in. He held her tightly, breathing in her cinnamon scent. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry I bullied you for being a muggleborn and called you derogatory names. I'm sorry I also bullied your friends." His sobs started up again. "I-I'm sorry I was a coward and did what my father dictated, instead of being my own person. I'm sorry I fucked up so badly. I never stood up, didn't join the good side while I could. I hate this stupid fucking Dark Mark. I hate my reputation. I hate my father and I fucking hate being a Malfoy. And I'm especially sorry I never told you how beautiful you are." Hermione held him tightly to her body for what felt like hours. When the grandfather clock chimed eight times, she gasped.
"We're going to be late for the feast!" She hurriedly ran to the bathroom, fixing her hair and makeup, brushing her teeth and throwing on her uniform. As she hurried out the door slipping on her robes, Draco noticed the raw red and silver lines that marred her arm. He decided not to say anything for now.
"Why is the feast so important anyways?" He asked, as they slowed down.
"Last night, they put the first years into generic dorms because they haven't been sorted yet and McGonagall hasn't given her Headmistress speech. Remember how the train was delayed later than usual? We arrived so late at school." Draco nodded.
Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table and braced herself for a long morning of sorting, speeches, pretending to eat, and escorting first years to the Gryffindor tower.