Several hours later, Hermione awoke to discover Draco blissfully sleeping in the very chair that had knocked her unconscious. Feeling groggy, she attempted to pull the blankets back, but was unable to gather the strength. A small moan escaped her lips.

Draco awoke with a start. Seeing her parched lips he immediately fetched a glass of water.

"Thank you," Hermione muttered after he had held the glass to her lips for her to drink. She despised being so reliant upon Draco.

"Hermione, I have a proposal for you," Draco began. Hermione nodded reluctantly, encouraging him to continue. "Let's put aside our differences for now. I am fully aware that you do not trust me, but as you've shown today, you really have no choice but to accept my help if you ever hope to recover and go back to the front lines."

Hermione nodded, feeling conflicted. A part of her saw the logic in this. He was right. The more she refused his assistance, the worse she became.

"Fine," she replied.

"Good," began Draco. "Now that we've settled that, would you like something to eat? I hardly think you could handle anything solid at this point, but we do have some rather tasty soup I think you might enjoy."

"Yes, thank you," Hermione responded. She watched as Draco went to fetch her cup of soup. Have I been unfair to him? She wondered. It was true that he had made her life miserable at every opportunity during their school years, but ever since he had appeared in Dumbledore's office months before, he had not said a word against anybody. She had wondered if he had been up to something, and while he had been quite virtuous since his return, she still had her misgivings. A leopard cannot change his spots, no matter how hard he tries, Hermione thought.

You've been proven wrong before her conscience told her. You couldn't stand Ronald until he and Harry rescued you from that troll first year.

Ron. Now there was a person she longed to see. She and Ron had been close friends ever since their battle with the mountain troll, and that friendship had slowly involved into a deep love during their seventh year. They had talked of their future and had begun making plans for marriage and a family when the war openly began. All of their plans for the future put on hold; they had both rushed to join Harry and the other members of the Order to stop Voldemort and the Death Eaters. It was only a few months after that when Hermione had become injured.

She felt so lost without Harry and Ron at her side. They had been there for every major event in her life since she began attending Hogwarts. It seemed every year something happened. The other students got to engage in frivolous pursuits, enjoying their youth, while the Golden Trio had to be ever on guard. Their youth had been left long before. Well, maybe not Ron's. That was something that Hermione loved so dearly about the youngest Weasley male. No matter how dark the situation seemed, trust Ron to make them laugh.

"Here's your soup," said Draco as he re-entered her room. Seeing the far away look in her eyes, he could only assume that she was thinking about his distant cousin, Weasley.

He had always mocked Weasley, but the truth was he was envious of him. While Draco had status, and anything money could buy, he had never had love. His father had been proud of him until his rejection of all he had been taught. His mother, while distant, was always kind to him. The Weasley home, affectionately called the Burrow, while meager in comparison to Malfoy Manor, was a home filled with happiness. What they lacked in material possessions was more than made up for with love.

Hermione began spooning the warm liquid into her mouth. Draco had been correct. It was delicious.

"So Malfoy," she started, "I don't believe that I have ever heard your version for leaving your father's side to fight against the death eaters. I'm curious, what cased your sudden reversal of beliefs?"

Draco sighed. He knew the day would come when she would ask. The only question that remained was exactly how much of his story he should tell her.