Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in my story. All of it belongs to J.K. Rowling. The plot just popped into my head while I was reading DH.

Chapter 6

The snow fall was late that year but to Hermione it didn't matter because she was still able to watch it, something she wasn't so sure about last year. Her breath fogged up her view of the perfect snow drifting to the ground, it was a world of white that December day. The castle was decorated in icicles and trees were being put up, but in the hallway in which she sat, it was silent. Or at least it was.

"What're you thinking about?" she heard Draco ask behind her. She turned and beckoned him to sit on the other side of the ledge.

"Just look," she said, and pointed out the window.

"It's snow, what about it?" he asked, leaning back and crossing his arms, letting one leg dangle as the other stretched so it touched her knee.

"But what do you think about it?" she asked him. She curled her knees so she could rest her chin on it as she turned her attention to him. He looked peaceful.

"I think it's something I've seen hundreds of times." he said, his eyes closed.

"But what did you think of the snow last year?" he opened his eyes and met her gaze.

"I thought it was something many would not live to see again," he stated, but as a fact not opinion, making her frown.

"And now that we're both here, staring at the snow- what do you think now?"

"I think its…nice. But enough of me, what do you think of it now?" Hermione smiled at him, not noticing how he would stare at her each time she did that.

"I think its clean," she said. He looked at her quizzically.

"Clean?" he repeated.

"Yeah, purer somehow. I thought what you had, but I still hoped by some miracle I would be wrong, and that the next year would be different. Now that the miracle passed, doesn't it seem clean?"

"When you put it that way then I guess it could," he responded. "But right now, I'm hungry and you skipped lunch so you have to come to the kitchen with me." he stood up gracefully, offering her his hand. She glared, a spark of her old self returning to her eyes, before it was snuffed out as she put her hand in his.

To others the gesture might have been romantic, a sign of affection. But to them, it was a sign that they needed each other, it was a little life boat as they were surrounded by the deep depths of blue.

"Hey Hermione," Ginny greeted her as they walked to the Great Hall for dinner.

"Hello Ginny,"

"So whats up?" she asked.

"The sky," Hermione answered, getting an elbow from Ginny.

"You know what I mean,"

"Well, nothing much really," she said.

"Are you sure?" Ginny pressed. "You seem happier lately, anything you're not telling me?"

"What could I possibly be keeping from you?" Hermione asked, making her voice light as her hands tightened on her sleeves.

"Oh, I don't know... I just thought there might be something between you and a certain blonde." Ginny said, giving Hermione a heavy look.

"Draco?" she asked, shocked. "We're just friends, honestly Ginny. Can't I have guy friends with out all the innuendos?"

Ginny giggled, "Not if the guy's a gorgeous one," Hermione stared at Ginny, wide-eyed. An unexpected surge of jealousy hit her but faded just as quickly, the feeling puzzled her greatly.

"Oh come on, Mione. You must've noticed."

"No, I didn't." Hermione replied.

"Well if you say so..." she said in a tone that clearly meant I-don't-really-believe-you-but-whatever. They had reached the Great Hall and Hermione didn't really feel like eating anymore.

"I think I'll go to the library," she told Ginny,

"But you haven't even eaten yet!" she objected.

"I just remembered a book I'll need for my essay, don't worry- I had a big lunch earlier." Hermione lied.

"Alright... I'll see you around then," Ginny said. She walked over to Harry and Ron who had already started eating.

Turning away, she saw the certain blonde get up from his seat and walk toward her. She started walking back toward her rooms, knowing it wouldn't take long for him to catch up.

It was close to eleven now and the only thing to be heard in the Head's common room was the scratched of a quill.

"So what about Christmas?" Hermione asked Draco as they sat together doing homework.

"Mmm?" Draco asked, still writing his potions essay.

"I said what about Christmas?" Hermione had already finished her work and was just staring at him and the window alternately, helping him sometimes.

"What about it?" he asked. He pushed his parchment away so it could dry and relaxed in his chair.

"Well, its Christmas! Aren't you going to do anything for it?" she asked, shocked. They had gotten along much better now, like two strangers meeting for the first time. It was delicate, but growing into a strong friendship, and though they never really spoke of their problems their presence seemed to make the problems a distant speck.

"Christmas was never very fun for me." he replied. She cocked her head the side and he a smile tugged at his lips. "I had what most children dreamed of, twelve foot high trees, decorated with spheres of gold, silver, and gems. I had the mountain of gifts, every single thing I could want was there. But none of that was fun. Dinner was formal, controlled, and tense. Holiday cheer never really reached my family as it did with others. Every Christmas I felt like something was missing and when it was my first year here, it was when I first heard stories of a different type of Christmas. I became envious of what they had- not their presents, I could get that anytime- but they sounded like they had fun, I envied their family dinners, how when they spoke, love for their family and that time flowed from their voice. Don't get me wrong, I love my family, I've just never had a Christmas like theirs…happy's the right word I guess," he gave a forced laugh and looked at her.

"What?"

"Nothing," she answered slowly, weighing her words, "I was just wondering…you don't have to tell me…its just that one time when you…"

"Can you ask me already?" Draco interrupted. She smiled sheepishly.

"Did your father ever hurt you or your mother?" he didn't answer and she kept her gaze fixed on her quill, memorizing the design.

"Why do you ask?" he finally asked. He didn't sound angry or curious so she chanced a peak at him. His face was neutral.

"When I woke you up that one time, you asked 'did he hurt you?'…I don't know, I just got the impression someone was hurting your mother…" she trailed off feeling awkward, cursing herself for bringing up subjects that even he didn't bother her with.

"Oh, that," he said, she looked at him again to see that he looked pained, his eyes distant as they traveled back.

"Draco?" she asked him, carefully, she put her hand on his arm but he was too far in to feel it.

"He never hurt her, never!" he said forcefully. "They loved each other, the only thing they loved was family…and the Dark Lord knew that. So when I failed my task-" he winced when Hermione's grip had involuntarily tightened.

"Sorry," she said softly, he looked at her, not really seeing. "continue," she urged him. He turned his head to look out the window.

"When I failed…he wanted to punish me. Father tried to reason with him but there's no reasoning with the Dark Lord, he only got hurt- coming home with cracked ribs and twitching from over exposure to the curse…but when my mother went to him…he hurt her in my stead saying if she intervened one more time then he would kill me outright…poor mother, she left and I was punished. I tried not to scream, I knew mother would come straight back if I did. But I did scream and she came as expected. Only the Dark Lord didn't kill me as he promised…I don't really know what happened after that but I do know mother became his favorite example of discipline to the followers…" a silence fell on them and Hermione didn't feel the need to break it.

Instead she hugged him as he had hugged her so many times the past couple of months. He cried into her chest quietly, neither having to speak. As he did this Hermione was reminded of how similar this was to just a few weeks ago, only their roles were reversed.

"Shh. Its okay," Draco had whispered to her as she cried without abandon into his sweater. Gently, he rocked her back and forth. "Just a dream," they were sitting on the couch where draco had found her screaming in her sleep.

"I murdered all those people!" she cried.

"It was a war, how did you expect it to go?" he asked, trying to get her to see reason. Her tears were making him feel terrible, whether he was the cause or not.

"But I could- have just… I didn't have -to kill," he tears were making her hiccup, making her body shake even more.

"Shh…" he soothed. "It was you or them, you know that," his words didn't seem to have any effect on her so he tightened his grip.

"Frankly," he said, "I'm glad you're the one who's alive," she jerked back a bit, her expression horrified.

"How can you say that!" she exclaimed, her voice hoarse. "You shouldn't be happy people are dead." she refused his effort to bring her closer to him, though the effort it cost her was great.

"Well I don't think I would be able to feel for them as I feel for you," he said. She looked at him out of the corner of her eyes, and was instantly caught in his gaze. Slowly, he kissed her. Nothing more than a brush of the lips, but it was enough for Hermione to forget their argument. Never had a kiss felt so real.

Quickly she stood up, walking toward her room.

"I- I think I'll just uhm go back and- and sleep now. Good night, Draco," she said, not turning around. She walked in and shut the door, not seeing the love and anguish on his face. Inside though, Hermione was sitting on the floor, leaning her head against the door, going over what happened.

She had kissed other guys, sure. But none of them made her feel like how she had felt in the one second the kiss had lasted. Even Ron, who she had loved, hadn't made her feel like this. She felt hopeful, as if life had just begun. The thought scared her, she didn't know if this was love, lust, or just the need for comfort.

She couldn't tell the difference anymore and she felt tears come to her eyes. Angrily, she dashed them away, rolling up he sleeves and fumbling for the knife under her mattress. As she had done so many times before, she held it just a whisper over her skin. Only this time, she was shaking. It didn't feel right, the other times, it was a release, a way of making herself strong. This was the first time she sought out its metallic comfort in weeks. Weeks filled with him.

With a yell, she threw the knife against the wall, knowing it would never break. Broken all over again, she cried herself to sleep, not bothering to cast a silencing charm.

"Shh. Its okay." she whispered. She laid her head on his, hugging him to her tightly.

"It'll never be okay," he said against her skin. She smoothed his hair away from his face causing him to look up.

"They love you, don't they?" she asked him. He gave the smallest of nods, his eyes bright.

"Then it's okay." she said firmly, "It'll always be okay,"

A/N: sooo sorry about the wait.

My sister just left and she is a computer-holic.

My updates should be more frequent now.

I really hope you liked this chapter and don't forget review are greatly appreciated.

-A

12-04-08

A/N: I'm really sorry but i wont be able to update for a while.

two of my relatives have died

and its exam time

and i wont be in the state for the rest of the month.

I'm REALLY sorry. Happy holidays,

-A

12-14-08