AN: Sorry this chapter has taken so long. Been busy with school, as I usually am. And I started helping the the drama club with a play. We will be performing Beauty and the Beast. I'm pretty excited! :) And I wanted this chapter to be a good one, so hopefully you think it is. Also, I need your help. My friend says that I should make Ron guilty for Scorp's fall. Do you think he should be guilty or innocent?

"You tried drinking away the pain? Bad 'Mione!" Harry said in a teasing voice.

"Yeah. It wasn't my brightest idea." I chuckled a little.

"So did you get piss drunk?" Ginny asked.

"Actually, Draco didn't let me get that smashed, but I was really close." I said. "We had a good conversation. We told each other things we wouldn't tell anyone if we were sober."

"What did you talk about? Can you tell us now?" Ginny asked.

I looked to Draco, who was sitting silently next to me. "Can I tell them the conversation we had?" I asked him.

"I don't want their pity, love." he said, turning to look at me.

"You know, I think I've heard that somewhere before. Have you heard that somewhere?" I asked, tapping my chin and smiling knowingly up at him.

"Hush up." he murmured at me, giving me a slight smile. Then he spoke louder. "I suppose you could tell them. I think I might go though. I will go talk to the realtor we left in the house. Is that the one you wanted? Personally, I really liked it." he said, standing up.

:I really liked it as well. I think that is the one." I stood up and gave him a hug. He kissed my forehead, and then he was gone. I sat back down and looked at Scorpius. Then a thought struck me.

"Harry, where are your boys at?" I asked.

"I took them to Andromeda's before coming here?" he said.

I looked at Ginny. She was clutching the now awake Cassi to her like a lifeline. It's amazing how much this has affected her, even though she's only known Scorpius for a few days.

"Well, anyways, back to the story. Draco took me inot the kitchen and we sat down at the booth in there. He was keeping count of the number of drinks I had, I think. He kept hold of the bottle and poured each drink for me." I said.

FLASHBACK

"So explain to me why you're trying to drink all of my firewhiskey?" Malfoy said, a firm grip on the bottle. I took a sip and winced. Firewhiskey always burned the first couple of glasses for me.

"I'm not drunk enough yet." My face was now laying on the table, so my speech was muffled I didn't think he would understand what I'd said, so it surprised me when he chuckled. I looked at him with a questioning look.

"I never thought I'd hear you say something like that, Granger." he paused. "Then again, I never thought I'd have you in my house at all." I smiled weakly.

"Funny. Isn't it?"

"Definitely." he replied. We were silent for a moment. The only sound was when we took a drink of firewhiskey. I decided it was time.

"They're dead." I whispered.

"What? Who is?" he said, confused. Then I saw the realization on his face. "Oh." he said. I gave him a weak smile. I finished what was in my glass in one gulp.

"I'm sorry, Granger. What happened?" he asked me. He seemed genuinely concerned.

"I wiped their memories before I left for the Burrow. I made them forget me and moved them to Australia. I wanted them to stay safe from Voldemort. Right after I did your family's interviews, Kingsley game me time off to find them. When I tracked them down, no one was in their house. I went next door, and I met my little sister. She witnessed their death. It was the Death Eaters."

I had started to cry about halfway through talking. Now I was finished, I was full on sobbing. I slumped my head on the table. I stayed there for several minutes. Eventually my sobbing became whimpers.

"That's horrible. Is there anything I can do to help?" Malfoy asked.

My head shot up. "What did you just say?" I asked him.

"Is there... anything... I can... do... to.. help?" he repeated hesitantly.

"Why would you ask that? Don't you hate me?" I asked, sniffling.

"Well, I was told to hate you in school, so I did. Understandably, the things I did to you were unforgivable. It makes perfect sense for you not to trust me, but, if you're willing, I'd like to see if we can be friends." he said, sticking his hand out as a truce.

I narrowed my eyes and looked from his hand to his eyes. I was hesitant at first, but then I saw something I hadn't expect. I saw the emotion in his normally emotionless eyes. That's what made me take his hand.

"Well, now that you've told me about your parents, I should probably tell you my story." he said to me. He stood up and took our glasses to the sink. I frowned and stayed put while he made his way to the door. He stopped when he got to it, noticing I hadn't moved.

"You coming, Granger?" he asked.

"You're going to tell me the things I wanted to know at your interview? What's changed since then?" I said, confused.

"I trust you now." he said and walked through the door. I got up and quickly followed, lost in my thoughts.

When I shook his hand, it meant something more than a truce. It was more a symbol of friendship. He trusted me, and wants me to trust him. He needed someone to confide in. I smiled to myself. Malfoy noticed this and spoke.

"What's wrong, Granger? I can practically see all the gears turning in your head."

"Nothing." I said, still with a smile. He raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

We walked back through the hallway and came to the dining room. We went though a door and came to what looked like a sitting room. Narcissa was sitting on a couch,sipping tea and reading a book. She looked up at us, somewhat worried.

"Miss Granger, are you okay?" she asked.

I smiled at her. "Yes. I just had some repressed memories come back to the front of my mind. And, please, call me Hermione." I replied.

"Of course. And where are you two off to.?" she asked, a sudden mischievous glint in her eyes. It kind of scared me for a moment.

"I'm going to tell her, Mother." Malfoy replied creepily, and continued walking to another door.

"Tell her what, dear?" she asked him.

He paused, hand on the door knob and replied, "Everything I should have at the interview."

He kept walking. I followed. The next thing I knew, we were back in the library. I was confused now.

"Malfoy, why are your houses so huge?" I asked him.

"My father always had to have the best. In his mind bigger is better." He paused, then looked at me. "Which, in some cases, it is." he wiggled his eyebrows. I got the double meaning and I turned fire truck red. Then he did something I didn't expect. He broke out into laughter.

"And another thing. Why are we in the library?" I asked him.

"Because it's more peaceful here, I guess. I don't know. I just felt like it would be a good place to talk." he replied.

We sat at the table Narcissa and I previously occupied. We didn't talk for a few minutes.

"Do you remember the train ride on our first year?" he finally asked me.

I frowned. "I sat and talked with you for a few minutes. When you found out I was Muggleborn, you told me to leave."

"Do you remember anything else?" Draco asked, leaning forward slightly.

"Well, you looked frightened for a minute when I told you." I said, thinking back to all those years ago.

"The reason I was frightened was because of my father. I'm sure you know my mother and I were beat, but I'm not sure you know to what extent. When I was seven, I met a Muggle boy and wanted to be friends with him. My father beat into me that Muggles were scum. Of course, I didn't believe him, but I had to put on a facade for most of my life."

"That's horrible." I put my hand over my mouth. He gave me a painful-looking smile.

"And that's only the beginning. He would also hit me when I came home for summer holidays."

"Why?" I asked him. "What made him do that when you came home?"

He looked directly in my eyes. "You. My father would get me at King's Cross and take me home. He would take me to his office, and ask why I was still behind a Mudblood. He said I should have easily surpassed you because that was all you are. A Mudblood. Of course, I didn't believe that. I couldn't do much about it though. Half of the things I said were because my dad had spies to make sure I didn't slip up. The other half of my animosity was probably because of his beatings. I needed to take my anger at him out on something, and I guess I thought the reason he hit me would be something good to lash out at."

"I'm so sorry, Draco. I wish there was something I could have done." I looked at him. He looked back, not saying anything. "What?" I finally asked him.

He blinked. "You called me Draco."

I chuckled. "Well, that's your name. Isn't it? Or should I keep calling you Malfoy?" I asked.

"Uh... Whichever you want, I guess." he said. And cue awkward silence. "And I don't want you're pity." he said more firmly.

A moment later I said, "Anyways, continue with your story."

"The summer after fifth year, I was forced to become a Death Eater. My father was in Azkaban, but Voldemort wasn't. He called me into speak with him. Alone. Scared the hell out of me. He said that he knew I was confused with my loyalties and that he could help me decide. He said if I didn't take the Dark Mark, he'd kill my mother. I couldn't say no to him, or he would kill me and my mother. I think that, at the time, I was so blinded by fear, that I never even thought to go to Dumbledore about it. Especially after I was ordered to kill him. When Dumbledore told me that I wasn't a killer that night, I had started to believe him. Then the Death Eaters came up the stairs, and I had no choice. When you three were in the Manor, and I lied about who you were, I felt it was a sort of redemption. Like the weight had been lifted off my shoulders slightly. I knew, and still know, that it wasn't a full redemption, but I felt a little better."

"Thank you for that, by the way." I told him.

"I think the worst part of that night was watching you get tortured. I was able to stomach it when people I didn't know were being tortured. But you, someone I knew and went to school with, no matter the circumstances, was horrifying. And then you saved us in the Room of Requirement and everything. I owe you all my life. Multiple times. Then at the end, when we all though Potter was dead, and my father called me to him. I almost stayed where I was, but I saw my mother and I knew I couldn't leave her. The weirdest part was when Voldemort hugged me. That whole next week I ended up scrubbing my skin raw." he finished.

We were silent as I took in what he just said.

"Oh, and don't tell Potter I said I owe him. I don't need him rubbing it in my face." he said. I smirked.

END FLASHBACK