I do not own any of the characters or story line of Harry Potter, and all credit goes to J.K Rowling, the legend herself.

Please enjoy reading this, any comments or feedback is most appreciated. Enjoy!

Chapter Seven.

Hermione instantly dropped her hand from Draco's mouth. She wasn't quite sure why it was still lingering there anyway, her only intention was to keep him quiet, which he seemed to be doing despite her efforts. She watched as Dean glanced rather quickly at Draco. She sensed the daggers, that crossed between their glares, skim over her shoulder. As little as Hermione knew Draco, she definitely knew he wouldn't be too happy with Dean's presence. She imagined him snarling and frowning at Dean in disgust. The Gryffindor knew how that felt. She'd been on the receiving end of it many times.

"Did I not do enough to put you in the hospital, Thomas?" Draco spat. Hermione took a breath, looking to her left where the blonde was edging forwards.

"Just be quiet, Malfoy," she snapped, glancing back to Dean who looked rather amused at the orders being given.

This only annoyed Draco more. A small growl rumbled in the back of his throat, as he stood back and watched through narrowed eyes. Hermione was surprised at his obedience, but did not ponder on the thought as Dean began to speak.

"Look, Granger," he began, as Hermione noticed a shift in Draco behind her. He seemed to tense suddenly. She rolled her eyes at Dean. He really wasn't off to a good start,

"-Hermione," he corrected.

"-You never did care enough to get it right, did you?" said the Gryffindor, as she folded her arms angrily.

"I did care!" Dean cried, gesturing with his hands, "That's why I'm here, to prove that."

Hermione scoffed in return, shifting on her feet uncomfortably.

"It's a little late for that, Dean," she said, eyeing the floor with fake interest, "What exactly did you come here for?"

"I wanted to apologize" he said, edging closer to Hermione. She took a step back, almost expecting to fall into Draco. But he had strolled over to a stone wall nearby, leaning on it whilst watching the pair intently.

"Hermione I never meant to hurt you," the Hufflepuff said softly, "I don't know what came over me. I was drunk, and foolish. I didn't want you at that party because I know what I'm like when I'm drunk."

"So you would've done the same without me there anyway?" she said, flinging her arms beside her wildly, "Would you of planned on actually telling me? Or would I have to of found out from one of these stupid rumors that wont seem to die away?"

"That's not what I meant, Hermione," Dean said, reaching for Hermione's arm to comfort her. She flinched at his touch, shaking him off her almost instantly. With a step back, Hermione pursed her lips. Her brows were furrowed and her breathing was slightly rapid.

"Don't. Touch me." she said, her eyes alight with the fire burning inside of her.

"Please, Hermione, forgive me, I'm-"

"-I think you've had your say," interrupted a cool voice. Suddenly, Draco was behind Hermione. She jumped a little as his presence.

"Oh, here comes Mr. Night-in-shining-armor," Dean said rather sarcastically.

"Are you really that fucking stupid, to start again?" Draco growled, as Hermione edged away from the pair.

Dean took this as his warning. He dropped his arms to his sides, taking a slow step backwards.

"You've got her now," he said, shrugging his shoulders and gesturing towards Hermione, "Do what you want."

"Fuck off, Dean. Don't be so ridiculous-"

"-Do you know how he tried to ruin it for you?" Dean interrupted, pointing Draco straight in the face and talking wide eyed to Hermione.

She glanced at Draco, noticing him purse his lips and take a deep breath through his nose. He acknowledge her glance, but remained staring at Dean, the boy he now loathed.

"He tried to ruin everything!" Dean almost laughed, "Do you know how he'd try and brainwash me? Tell me you're no good. You're just a mudblood. Forced me to think differently of you. Drove me to end things with you. Apparently, with you in my life, I was 'wrecking my own future'. Isn't that right Draco?"

Hermione felt tears prick her burning eyes. She'd stared at the two for so long, she'd almost forgotten how to blink. But that was not what caused her tears. Her heart was racing in her chest, and no matter how deeply she breathed, there was an ever-growing weight, sinking over her ribs, into her heart. Her stomach was twisting in an acrobatic show of knots and falls whenever Dean confessed another line. A lump in her throat was demanding to be felt, feeling as though it would suffocate her any second if she didn't cry.

"It had nothing to do with you!" Hermione whispered,

"-Why do you even care?" she managed to choke out.

Draco's eyes momentarily flickered to Hermione, who was trying with all her might to keep calm.

"Exactly!" Dean cried, edging towards the two, "Why do you care? Hm? Come on Draco, spit it out. Be a brave boy for once. Daddy isn't going to come and fix this for you!"

Hermione thought Dean had broken the ice, with a sharp spear that shattered every millimeter of it's surface area. But, to her surprise, Draco simply glared at Dean once again. He and Hermione stared at Draco, Dean with his eyebrows raised in expectancy, and Hermione simply yearning for one simple answer that could possibly knit everything together and make sense.

But it felt like a whole day had passed, and Draco did not say anything. Hermione glanced at Dean, who looked almost smug with the satisfaction, and then back to Draco, who was simply looking to the floor beside him.

Hermione noticed the knit in his eyebrows as they furrowed slightly. His jaw was clenched tightly and the pulse that ran along a small visible vein on his temple, was throbbing violently. His chest was heaving with every sharp breath he inhaled through his nose. But he could look neither of the two in the eye.

And in that moment, Hermione hated Draco Malfoy, with every piece of her body. More than she had done when he'd call her ridiculous names. More than when it progressed to attempted hexes in corridors, or unsuspected attacks in the grounds. More than when it progressed to physicality, when he'd knock books purposely out of her hands, or barge her out the way when entering classrooms. And more than when he'd simply stare at her, with an unreadable expression, causing Hermione to become agitated and want to leave the classroom immediately. She'd been almost thankful of Draco, merely a few hours before hand. She'd began to question his morals, wondering if there was actually one sympathetic bone in his body, which knew the right things to do. But now she knew she was wrong. Even if there was some sort of caring inside of him, it'd never break free, surrounded by the idiocy and selfishness that bounded it to be kept inside.

She'd known he'd said things of the sort to Dean. She'd known he'd been trying to guide him away from her. But he'd never confirmed it, until now. And Hermione had never felt more belittled and worthless than she had then. No matter what, someone had wormed their way in, to break Hermione's happiness. And she began to question whether she really deserved to be happy. Maybe the things Draco had said were right. Maybe Dean was better off without her. But as she looked between the smug face of the boy she thought she'd once loved, and the scowl of the boy who was battling with himself, who she'd found a larger, re-ignited hate for, all she wanted to do was disappear. And now she'd couldn't fight back the tears. She just wanted to run away from the insanity that was growing, and pressing on her. And so she did. She ran, back along the corridor, and around the corner. Anywhere her feet could take her, anywhere away from there.

Draco looked up instantly as he saw the figure beside him shift and disappear, out of his view. He heard the quickened footsteps as she ran down the hallway. His heart was racing, and the blood was draining from his head, making him feel dizzy. And he had a ridiculous lurking feeling in his stomach, which didn't sit well with him. As he glanced up to Dean, who was stood, arms folded, watching Hermione with a smug expression as she ran away, he felt almost livid. The Hufflepuff eventually met his stare, and lost his smile.

"Go on, Draco," he said, in a low, chilling voice, "Run."

And without warning, he'd somehow managed not to beat Dean into an unrecognizable mess right there, and instead began fleeting down the corridor. Draco wasn't quite sure why he was running. He felt he was running away. Away from the questioning, and the claustrophobia. And the key that was jabbing into his thoughts, trying to unlock the truth. And he'd tried to block it out. But he knew that it was finding it's release, in a different body. Through Dean's voice, and into not only his head, but Hermione's too. And strangely enough, he was running towards something aswell. He could hear her echoed cries, and her gasps for breath as his long legs carried him in the direction of the sobbing girl. It was then, when he knew Hermione was crying, it had all gone too far.

He'd never meant to make her cry. He'd taunted and teased her in the past. Pushing her boundaries. Being careful not to cross them. Because it was all just fun and games. It wasn't serious. And what he'd said to Dean was never meant to come out. He'd subconsciously bullied her. And Draco knew how it felt to be bullied. By his own father, his own flesh and blood. Finally, the inner Malfoy in him that he'd tried to hide and never let it fully come to the surface, was taking over him.

Finally, she was in his sight. He was hot on her heels, following her, as eventually, she approached some large, oak doors with iron detailing over the front. They were doors he'd never seen before. But his feet were still carrying him, and as she desperately swung open the large doors, after carelessly wiping the tears that blurred her vision away, he grasped the handle to the door before it finally shut, and followed her inside.

The two stopped abruptly. Draco steadied himself, trying not to collide with the girl who was staring at him incredulously. The door slammed shut behind them, leaving the two gasping for breath, the only other noise beside a slight crackling that sounded like a fire burning humbly.

"Why did you follow me?! I wanted to get away from you, Malfoy! Not be followed by you-" she breathed, in between gasping for breath.

But Draco wasn't listening. Instead, he eyed his surroundings precariously.

The room was warm, and lit solemnly by the fire that burned in an impressive oak fireplace on the wall beside them. It was a rather small room, but snug and homely all the same. The floor was a dark oak, that matched the fireplace, and was covered with a large, Persian rug. The walls were a grey stone, adorned with bookcases fitted into large arches in the alcoves. In the center of the room were two, large, inviting red sofas with a more than ample armchair to match. They were sat around a coffee table with the odd book lay on the far corner, in front of the fire. At the back of the room was a small desk, lit by a candle with an open book lay carelessly beside some stacks of parchment. On the far wall were two doors, either side the largest bookcase of them all.

"Oh no," Hermione whispered, as Draco spun on his heel to face the way he had just come, hearing an almighty rumbling sound. The door that was once there, was now disappearing, fading into the cold, grey stone of the wall.

Draco turned back to Hermione, glancing at her for a mere second before eyeing the room once more.

"Where are we, exactly?" he asked, his breathing becoming a little steadier.

Hermione noticed his furrowed brow, much like her own. She hastily wiped her face of any lurking tears and looked away, not wanting him to see her in such a vulnerable state, once again.

"The Room of Requirement," she said gently, glancing around the room in a fashion much like Draco.

There was a bleak silence for a few moments. Hermione sighed, heading towards one of the doors at the back of the room.

"The Room of what- Granger, wait, what?" Draco called, as he watched the Gryffindor ignore him and continue across the space that separated them.

She stopped, briefly, before the door.

"The Room of Requirement, Malfoy," she stated, as if obvious, "I read about it in a book,"

Malfoy scoffed and murmured something along the lines of 'I should've known'.

"-It's a room that only appears when a witch or wizard comes across it's location in desperate need or desire to be in a certain place. It's different to everyone who enters it, and the room takes form of the place they want to be most..."

Her sentence drifted off to a finish, as she inspected the room once more.

"Please do enlighten me, with your freakish amount of knowledge, as to where, exactly, we are then?" Draco mocked, running a hand through his tousled hair.

"Well," Hermione began, "If I'm right, I think we're in a smaller version of the Gryffindor Common Room."

She received a large sigh from Draco, who's admiring expression concerning the room, had now contorted into one of disgust. Hermione ignored it, regardless.

"And if I'm not mistaken," she began, finally approaching the doors, "This should be the dorms."

She took the handle in her hand and twisted it with a smile. But that smile had soon faded, along with her slight feeling of hope that had briefly returned. The handle was refusing to move. She turned it once more, and then tried at third time with two hands. Locked. Feeling her wand beneath her robes, she slid it out gently, pointing to the handle with precision.

"Alohomora," she said clearly, and tried the handle once more.

It was useless. As a frown returned the her face, she made her way across the room, to the second door beside her. Draco leant on the cold stone of the wall from the other side of the room. He watched as the witch before him tried the second door, but had no luck once more.

"Problem, Granger?" he called, slightly amused by her bothered expression as she paced in front of the door in thought.

"They're locked," she replied.

Draco rolled his eyes,

"Yes I know that," he said, a slight feeling of annoyance creeping into his voice, "I can see, I'm not blind. Neither am I an imbecile."

Hermione halted, turning to him. With a exasperated sigh, she ventured over to the sofas in the middle of the room and collapsed into one, resting her head on the arm rest.

"By all means try it yourself then, Mr. Genius," she said, gesturing with her hands to the doors behind her.

Draco did as she said. He strode over to the door with confidence, and carried out the test as Hermione had done. He'd just about announced his last 'Alohomora', before Hermione called from behind him.

"It's not going to work," she said, with a song-like tone to her voice.

"No shit, Granger," he said, sliding his wand back into his trouser pocket and leaning against the bookcase beside him. He let his head fall to rest against the dark wood, and winced in pain as he hit it with distinct more impact than he'd expected.

"Why are they locked?" Hermione questioned, talking rather more to herself than the only other person who occupied the room with her.

"I think the main question here, is how the fuck do we get out?" Draco replied, rubbing his head gently.

The blonde watched as Hermione emerged from the sofa infront of him. She approached the wall where they had entered, and paused before it. Firstly, she delicately traced her fingers over the rough surface. Draco rolled his eyes in defeat, and slouched against the wall, sliding down it's cool surface before sitting on the floor. Hermione then knocked a couple times and pursed her lips in concentration. She withdrew her wand finally, and tapped that against the wall, thrice. Draco was quickly becoming impatient. He had been in the room not even ten minutes with the Gryffindor, and already he could feel the air closing in around him. Hermione began casting spells of which Draco did not care to attempt to recognize. Eventually, she sighed and turned to lean against the wall. He eyed her with caution as she stared at the ceiling. The very little confidence Draco unwillingly had in Hermione was now gone, and he felt that sinking feeling, as it began to settle in his stomach.

"I don't think we can," she said finally, breaking the more than uncomfortable silence.

"What do you mean, you don't think we can?" he said, beginning to rub his forehead as he felt a headache approach, "You thought of the room, can't you just think of a door and make it appear?"

Hermione almost laughed at his lack of knowledge. Clearly Draco had never read Hogwarts: A History.

"The room has a mind of it's own, Malfoy," she sighed, "And I don't think it's planning on letting us out. Atleast, not any time soon."

A/N: Hello! So this chapter is a little shorter than the rest, simply because it gives you the information you need for the next half of the story, and is more of a fill in chapter, than one with exciting events, (unless you class this as exciting, I don't know). Anyway, Draco and Hermione in a confined space, forced to spend time together? Do I smell cliché Dramione? No I don't. Do not worry, this is not as cliché as you think it is, you'll soon see. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and the idea.

Don't forget review, good or bad, all feedback is appreciate and really motivates me to continue writing.

Thanks, Amelia x