Walking back to the castle Hermione weighed her options. She could go back to the common room. She could deal with all the stares from her fellow housemates as they whispered about her red, puffy eyes. She couldn't deal with the third degree from Ginny though so she knew that she had to avoid going back to her room. She thought about going to the library as well but that was the first place anyone would look for her. She eventually settled on the room of requirements. It was the one place she could get what she wanted, peace and quiet.

She walked quickly through the hallways and up the stairs until she came to a dead end. She stood still and closed her eyes, imagining the one place she really needed right now. When she opened her eyes, the door had appeared. Walking through the door she was never more grateful for this secret little room. It looked like a muggle hotel room. Everything looked modern a stark contrast from the dark stone and metals that decorated the castle walls. There was a large bed covered in white pillows and a large overstuffed comforter. Hermione thought it looked like a bed of clouds. On the other end of the room were large bookcases that ascended to the ceilings, each filled with countless books, in front of them sat a couch that looked like it was made of slate grey velvet.

She walked towards the couch, admiring the artwork hung from the walls. This wasn't the room Hermione had imagined exactly, she had been thinking of her room back at her parent's house, but she would gladly take this room instead. Hermione eyed the bookshelves, reading the spines of the books to see what was there. So many of them she had read but a few caught her eyes. They were rare books that were no longer in print. Hard to get copies of old writings, things that Hermione had only dreamed of getting her hands on. Eagerly she grabbed one and plopped down on the couch and began to read.

It must have been an hour or two before she heard a noise behind her.

"Excuse me? But what exactly do you think you're doing in here?"

Without looking away from her book Hermione responded, "What does it look like I am doing? I am reading. What are you doing here?"

"This is my bedroom. That's what I am doing here."

Hermione tore her eyes away from the book in her hands to see Draco Malfoy standing before her.

"Your bedroom? Since when does the headmaster give death eaters special privileges like a private bedroom?"

Walking to stand before her Draco Malfoy snatched the book out of Hermione's hand and shut it. He walked over to the bookshelf and put it back.

"Since they've become the student with the biggest target on their back, it's for my safety and for the safety of anyone that decides to start something with me."

Hermione let out a hearty laugh, "I don't understand you. If you're so unwelcome here why stay at all? Your family has enough money to buy you a nice cushy job somewhere. You didn't have to come back."

Draco's eyebrows furrowed, "just because you're a know it all Granger doesn't mean you know all there is to know about me. I have my reasons. Let's just leave it at that."

Hermione lifted her feet and rested them, crossed, on the table in front of her. She let out a stretch and sank deeper into the couch, "Well I think that sounds pretty suspicious. You would think that someone trying to prove they aren't the spawn of Satan would have a little more transparency."

He tried his best to not show that her words bothered him but his face betrayed him. His confidence melted. Despite his best efforts, people still saw him as a monster. They didn't know why he had done the things he did. They hadn't even bothered to let him say his peace. He was resigned to this. He knew it was something he couldn't change.

"So is that the new rumor? That I am evil incarnate?"

His tone had a bite to it. Hermione knew why. She knew what it was like to have everyone talk about you. She was lucky that what was written about her was normally something good. They called her a war hero, treated her like a celebrity. Over the past 6 months the Malfoy's had been painted as the poster children for death eaters. The once powerful family had a stigma around them that made most people stay away.

"They say all kinds of things about you. I'm sure you know that."

Draco shrugged, "let them talk, it doesn't matter what they think anyway."

Hermione was floored, how could he be so cavalier about it? How could he deal with everyone hating him?

"So you have no opinion either way? You're fine with being persona non grata within the wizarding community?"

"People are going to think what they want to think. I am not going to waste my energy attempting to make nice with each and every person who judges me. At the end of the day, I know that I did what I had to do. I can live with that."

"It isn't that easy."

"It really is."

Hermione looked at Draco, attempting to see a crack in the façade. She searched the chiseled features of his face for any hint that he was lying but there was none. He was too good at putting up walls. He had perfected it growing up.

"So Granger, why are you holed up here and not out with the littlest Weasel."

Draco sat down on the couch next to her and loosened the tie around his neck. She shifted away from him.

Draco rolled his eyes, "calm down I am not going to hurt you."

Hermione relaxed a bit, but she was still uneasy. In all the years they had known one another, this was by far the most civil conversation they had ever had.

"I wanted to be alone. Some stuff went on today and I thought it would be best to be left with my thoughts."

"Trouble in paradise with the weasel?"

Hermione stammered, "H-how,"

Draco interrupted her before she could finish, "well if it was anything else, you'd be with the little one. You wouldn't be here by yourself."

Hermione sighed, "I thought I was doing the right thing by both of us. I guess I was wrong."

Draco shrugged, "Sometimes doing the right thing doesn't always mean doing to nice thing."

Hermione looked at Draco. It was obvious that his statement was loaded. It meant more than just the context of what they were speaking about.

"I didn't want to lose him as a friend and I think that's what happened. I can't talk to Ginny about it. I just," she paused trying to find the words to say.

She continued, picking her words carefully.

"I just feel like there is more out there. I love Ron, I really do. But I don't think loving him is enough."

Draco smiled, "since we're speaking openly, I have to say I am surprised you two have lasted as long as you did."

Hermione gazed at Draco with uncertainty, "You're just saying that."

"No I'm not, other than Potter, you two couldn't be more different. You're smart and determined. He isn't strong enough for a woman like you."

Hermione couldn't help but giggle, "Oh please, do you know how ridiculous that sounds?"

"Can you really tell me I'm wrong?"

Draco turned to face Hermione on the couch, "You want someone to challenge you, make you think. Someone that makes you feel that gut wrenching passion. You want to feel alive."

Hermione sat silent. In just a few simple words he had managed to encompass all the uncertainty she had been feeling.

"See, I'm right," He said with a smug smile on his face.

"Why are you being so nice Malfoy?"

He shrugged, "Maybe I'm not the spawn of Satan as you so claimed."

Hermione smiled at him, maybe he was right. Since the end of the war everyone had been quick to put a label on everyone. Hero, bad guy, sympathizer… everyone had their own part to play.

"Maybe you're right."