(A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in so long. It was hard to write this and it took time, I hope you enjoy it.)
There were a few moments of dead silence, the soft sounds of Hermione's breathing barely audible. Once he was sure she was asleep Draco stepped out from behind the wall he'd been using to hide from Hermione until she fell asleep. He'd been there since after dinner, being forced to watch the awful display that was the weasel's broken ego. He knew, especially now, that he wouldn't be able to help her; not with everything rumbling around in his head. He was in no state to comfort her after her idiotic friend's harsh words.
He'd convinced himself, while he hid in waiting, that it would be better for both of them if she got some sleep. It may have been selfish on his part but he was certain her stress levels were high enough without him and his inability to be comforting. He was determined to find out who attacked her, he was desperate for answers, and now, he was enraged by Weasels actions. Hermione was his. He mentally slapped himself, knowing that Hermione would like being thought of as property. But that didn't make him any less annoyed watching the clumsy red head make a move on his girlfriend. But he had more important issues to worry about; Hermione had done enough to crush the weasel's idiotic crush. Though he could have gone his entire life not knowing that she'd harbored a crush on him for as long as she had.
Draco had spent the entire day listening to the gossip of the school, especially gossip in the Slytherin common room. But whoever had done it was keeping their lips sealed, at least for now. It was difficult to think of anyone, besides himself, that would have motive to attack her. Sure there were plenty of purebloods that wanted Potter and his friends but most of them would only talk about it, very few would act on those threats. There were also those who simply hated their muggle born classmates, especially Hermione Granger as she beat every single one of them in classes. These people would be more inclined to attack Granger but again, Slytherins were not action type people, they left that to the Gryffindors, they'd find some sneaky way to meet their ends.
Draco was well aware that he would be the most likely suspect; rumors that he'd done it were already circling, even though he'd never spoken a word about the attack at all. Soon even the teachers would believe the rumors, and why not? He'd given them every reason to, fighting and harassing Potter, Weasley, and Granger throughout their entire Hogwarts careers.
It might already be too late. He'd been questioned by Dumbledore already. The older wizard that he'd mocked and believed to be weak had pulled him into the office only a few hours earlier. Apparently Hermione had been able to recall bits and pieces of her memory, claiming that her attacker was a blond, Slytherin student. Naturally the teachers, through rumors and past experiences, came to suspect him. He did fit the description, what little she'd been able to give.
It was maddening, having to sit there and listened to the old man talk. While he'd noticed the minute changes in Draco, Dumbledore couldn't help the nagging suspicion that something was going on between Draco and Hermione. He truly didn't think Draco would have done this but the other professors urged him to at least question the boy. And that gave him a chance to speak with him privately. He noticed how the line of questioning regarding Miss. Granger had the boy fidgeting and made a light sweat break out on his forehead. Dumbledore had one question left for the boy.
"Mr. Malfoy, I will tell you that I, personally, believe you are not the one who attacked Miss. Granger. But I can't deny that you seem to be very effected by the entire event." Draco took a breath, relived but still weary of the man's question. "Other teachers will no doubt notice this reaction; they will chalk it up to guilt Draco. So I'm asking you now, what is your relationship with Miss. Granger?"
The question took Draco off guard. Had he really been so obvious, was he really no better than Weasley, was he wearing his heart on his sleeve in the same way? Draco's snide reply stuck in his throat, his head dropping to look at the floor. Draco didn't even know when his throat became clear enough to speak again but suddenly he realized he was spilling everything. How he'd always teased her because he just couldn't understand how a muggle born, someone he'd been taught to believe inferior, could best every single pure blood in every single subject. He admitted to having feelings for her, long before this year, he'd noticed her beauty at the Yule ball but he'd seen her intelligence and character in their first year. Initially he'd mocked her and her character. But as he slowly stepped out of his father's shadow, and began think freely of the prejudices, he'd started to see her, who she really was. He'd seen beyond the brainy bookworm, to the girl that simply yearned for knowledge, beyond the practical member of her trio, to the protectiveness she had for her friends. He'd seen through her shield, he saw how much the mounting war frightened her, how through her fear she worried more about her family and friends than she did for herself.
When he finally admitted how they'd come to their current situation he was breathing heavily, his face unnaturally flushed. She'd followed him, trailing after him in the abandoned first floor girl's room. She'd seen him at his weakest, struggling to come to grips with the task he'd been given. When she'd made herself known he'd yelled, threatened her to try and make her leave, none of it worked. His threats were empty but hers were not. She threatened to go to the teachers if he didn't tell her what was going on; she insisted she could help him.
That was the thing that amazed him the most, how through all the years of suffering through his torment, she would still try to help him. He'd broken down, fallen to the floor as words spilled from his lips much like they were doing now in Dumbledore's office. He'd been careful not to tell her everything, just that he would have to do something terrible before the year was out. That was in September, for five months they would talk, about anything and everything. They had a bond, an unspoken friendship formed between them. And he struggled to admit it to the older wizard, but a romantic bond formed between them in time.
Dumbledore listened intently, letting the boy spill everything he needed to. He could hardly imagine the stress this boy was under, fighting to undo and upbringing that had cut him off from those that could help him. When Draco finished, his chest heaving but his shoulders seeming to have lost the weight of the secrets he'd been keeping. With a hand on the younger wizards shoulder, Dumbledore dismissed him; there were no words the older man could find to help the boy, no words of advice for what he was going through.
Draco's hands were still shaking from that confession.
(A/N: Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed the Draco heavy chapter. Now that school is nearly over I should have time to write and update more frequently - fingers crossed - anyway please review and let me know what you think.)