A/N: Oh, man. It's been two years since I've written a single word in this story. Erm. I sort of forgot every single plan I had for it. BUT, NO MATTER! I miss writing Dramione. When I started this story, I thought it was terrible. Going too fast, too slow, out of character... Something was always wrong. But, looking back, I'm actually quite satisfied with my work. Well, as satisfied as I can be with a 13-year-old girl's constant cliche-ing, grammar errors, and simple spelling mistakes... ^^" I'd go back and fix them, but I'm impossibly lazy. I probably will, come spring or summer break, when I'm THAT bored. Haha. I did manage to go back and change one thing, though: In chapter six, I changed the trust exercises to once a week, not daily. And I also made the scene slightly more Dramione.

I came back because I have a compelling urge to finish this story, especially since I know how much it sucks to get into a FanFiction, and realize it's incomplete. Hehe. Well, I hope my writing style hasn't changed too drastically for you guys. I really, really hope I can remember what plans I have lost. And I really, really, really hope you enjoy the next few chapters, because it's been far too long since I've updated. :)

Slight Dramione moment, to speed things up? :D And a slightly long chapter, to make up for the years away...? xD

I can say it but you won't believe me,
You say you do but you don't deceive me,
Dead hearts are everywhere,
Dead hearts are everywhere.
~Dead Hearts by Stars

Hermione knew that skipping dinner wasn't the best idea. She knew that Ron, Harry, and Ginny were going to get worried; she hadn't told them about the trust exercises yet either, and that had taken up their whole free period. She desperately hoped that they would think she was on a Head Girl errand. And besides, skipping dinner was the only option she really had- she knew that the Slytherin heir would do anything in his power to make sure that Hermione knew her place. She didn't doubt that he already had some scheme to make her look like an idiot- a warning to her, to keep her mouth shut.

Hermione could easily take Malfoy; she had proved that a few years ago. If her Head Girl status didn't depend on it, she wouldn't hesitate to stand up against whatever he had planned. But it did, and she didn't have the time to spend in detention, or worse. Her plan needed to take action now.

Okay, maybe that was a little over dramatic. But Hermione couldn't help herself; when she got excited for something, it just couldn't wait. And what better reason to get excited than to answering the riddle to the Malfoy heir's mysterious conflicting emotions?

Hermione wasn't sure why she felt so compelled to figure out Malfoy's life. It was intrusive, a violation of his privacy, and quite nosy of her. And what would she do with this information, once she figured it out? Try to help the boy who made her life a living hell? He'd made it clear that he wasn't happy with the fact that she was seeing into his memories; what would he do if he figured out that she was willingly trying to figure out his secrets?

It was the rush of falling short to these unanswered questions that really drove Hermione. For as long as she could remember, the studious Gryffindor had found relief in a mystery. And now that Voldemort had been defeated, Hermione had supposed that it was time to move on to yet another mind-baffling mystery. So, here she was, trying to piece together the emotions of a dark prince, the brat who had made her life a living hell, and her best friend's enemy.

Hermione rushed into the headmaster's office, her heart racing as swiftly as her zealous mind. "Professor McGon-" she stopped. The headmaster's chair was empty, the fireplace in the corner crackled in its lonesome. Hermione's groaned and cursed herself silently. "Of course the headmistress would be at dinner," she cried, her spirits sinking. "How could I be so stupid?"

"I've known you to be many things, Miss Granger," spoke a heart-wrenchingly familiar voice. "Stupid is not one of them, my dear."

Hermione looked up at the smiling portrait, close to tears. "Dumbledore!" she cried. "Thank Merlin you're here!" She paused for a moment. "How did you know to come? Professor McGonagall said you'd be busy for awhile."

Dumbledore winked. "I had a sudden craving for my favorite comfort food." The old man sighed forlornly as he glanced at the bowl of lemon drops on the desk in front of him. "Unfortunately, I cannot do so much more than stare at the delicacies. I don't suppose you fancy art, Miss Ganger? I wouldn't be opposed to having some lemon drops painted in."

Hermione smiled and shook her head. "I'm afraid that I'm not the best artist, sir."

"Ah, well, that's quite alright," he waved the topic away. "You will find what you need here in the back." He continued, motioning to a corner in the office, towards a door that Hermione had never noticed before. Odd, Hermione frowned. She was usually quite observant. She moved to the door and opened it slowly to find a toilet, not unlike the ones that had transported the golden trio to the Ministry of Magic awhile ago. In tiny writing, the words St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was inscribed on the porcelain. Hermione supposed that it was practical for the headmaster to have immediate transportation to the hospital, for the students who had injured family members.

"Dumbledore, sir," Hermione hesitated, "is this...okay? Surely I'll get in trouble for leaving the school!"

"Not to worry, Miss Granger." Dumbledore said warmly. "I will speak to Minerva. You're free to leave."

"How did you know?" Hermione asked softly. She looked up at the portrait, awe and delicate gratitude alining her gentle features. A smile twitched in the corner of Dumbledore's lips as he gazed down at the Gryffindor girl fondly.

"You're not as lonely as you think you are, Miss Granger," he answered cryptically. "Always know this: the plans that I have made for you are etched with all the care and thought that I can muster. Your friends may be at peace, but your battle isn't over yet. You may feel lost, and perhaps a little abandoned along the way. But you will always have me." Dumbledore glanced down, looking suddenly pained. "...And comfort food. Which reminds me -do forgive me, dear, I'm afraid my manners have been failing me lately-, would you care for a lemondrop before you leave?"

Hermione laughed. "Thank you, Professor." She said, putting every bit of meaning in those three softly spoken words.

"Don't thank me," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Thank the inventor of lemondrops. Good luck to you, Miss Granger."

And with that, Hermione left for her journey.

In all honesty, Hermione probably should've planned ahead.

As she entered the hospital, Hermione realized that Narcissa's location was a secret to all except Draco. And now, Hermione. She could see why Malfoy was so intent on keeping Hermione's mouth shut; how many people would come after the Malfoy riches if they knew what condition Narcissa was in? Draco wasn't legally an adult, and his father was under strict watch of the Ministry. It occurred to Hermione that the Malfoy's money was probably not being accounted for as it should be. With a well-worded lawyer, their entire bloodline's worth could be ripped right out from under their noses. And whoever had cursed Narcissa, well, they wouldn't be happy if they knew that she still had a chance at survival.

Obviously, it would raise question to have any other visitor aside from Draco.

Hermione did something that Harry and Ron would be proud of. She decided to -don't say it- break the rules, and sneak in.

It wasn't quite as hard as Hermione initially thought it would be- all she had to do was cast a disillusionment charm over herself, and sneak down the hallway. She remembered the way well enough. The door wasn't locked, nor was there any charms or curses over it, which surprised Hermione. She would think that Malfoy would at least put a simple protection spell over Narcissa's room, especially since he went through so much to keep her location a secret.

As Hermione slipped into the room, she realized that Narcissa was much worse than she had been in Malfoy's memory. Her skin was the color of a corpse, her breathing ragged and shallow. Her hair hung in a loose, greasy braid on her shoulder. Yet even though her condition was poor, Hermione couldn't help but notice the way her features were set in a firm, determined line- as if she was declaring that she would fight for survival if it meant saving her family's pride...even if the chances were slim. Hermione felt a twinge of respect for the woman right then.

She moved forward, inspecting Narcissa's frail figure. Hermione, of course, happened to be familiar of the curse. Gloria Mortem was not a curse that was often spoken of, and for good reasons. The curse was more powerful, more inhumane than Avada Kedavra. She had stumbled upon a brief, carefully vague paragraph of the curse whilst digging in the most forbidden section of the library- she had initially been searching for information on horcruxes, but the idea of Gloria Mortem had caught her eye. Was this curse strong enough to kill a horcrux?

Hermione shut her eyes, willing herself to bring up what information she was able to find back then. If she recalled correctly, the area that the curse impacted would determine wether or not to curse was curable. Hermione had no trouble finding the said area; a large, horrendously black splotch appeared grotesquely on her right shoulder, spreading like cracks down her arm. It looked bad, and from the looks of it, Narcissa had less than a year of life left.

Hermione signed. "Oh, Mrs. Malfoy..." She said, her voice tender and awkward. Part of her knew that talking to the woman was pointless. But it eased her guilty conscious, if only slightly. "I suppose this is why your son is going through such a rough time, huh?" She settled herself on the chair beside the older, taller woman who looked like she weighed less than Hermione herself.

So breakable.

"I've never seen him so angry in my life, and that's saying something... Erm, no offense." She glanced at the irresponsive body and cleared her throat. "I can't imagine what you had to do to be cursed like this. It's worse than the Unforgivable Curses." She shuddered. "It'd be cruel to say that after what you'd been through, you deserved this. Because, well, nobody deserves this. It's inhumane, and cruel, and it deserves a lifetime in Azkaban!"

Hermione didn't know why she kept talking, but she did. Maybe it was because she knew what it's like, to lose your parents. Maybe she felt a little lonely. Maybe she felt guilty for what she was about to do to the woman.

But she kept talking.

"Your son doesn't deserve this either," she admitted quietly. "Even though he's not exactly the kindest Slytherin ever... I would know. I think he likes to go out of his way to make my life a personal hell, to be quite frank with you, Mrs. Malfoy. But can I share a secret? Something that I tend to forget when I'm around him? He's got emotions, too. Which shouldn't surprise me, but it does. I didn't even realize it until this week, you know; his mask of anger is quite convincing. I think he's even fooled himself into thinking that all he can ever feel is rage. But wether or not he realizes this, his emotions are a lot stronger than we all think, because he likes to keep them bottled bottled up. That only makes them ten times harder to feel.

"Losing your family hurts, Mrs. Malfoy, and I think that when he loses you, he's going to break."

Hermione had no idea where those words had come from, but as she said them, she knew it was true. She had caught a glimpse of Draco that she never would have thought existed, and a side that she could relate to. He was losing his only family. A family that Draco Malfoy, the coldhearted Slytherin prince, actually cared about. She knew it affected him.

From that moment on, she vowed that she would unravel the mystery that was Draco Malfoy. She would do whatever it would take, break whatever rule.

So she gulped, and placed her wand to Narcissa Malfoy's forehead.

"What are you doing?" Someone behind her cried.

Hermione turned around to meet the eyes of an enraged Draco Malfoy.

Draco thought that Granger was officially stupid, absolutely retarded. Of course he set a charm over his mother's hospital room. Just one that couldn't easily be detected- one that would immediately alert him if someone other than Dr. Kraus's team entered the room.

Earlier in the year, Dr. Kraus had shakily questioned Draco's choice in charms- perhaps a Oppungo curse instead, or at least something a little violent? But Draco stood firmly in his choice of defense. He wanted to be sure that any pain inflicted on the curse-bearer was directly from Draco himself. He wanted to see the pain in his eyes, to make him feel exactly what Draco felt when he watched his mother's heartbeat steadily grow fainter. He wanted the man to feel a pain worse than dying, like Draco himself had felt while watching his mother slowly become a corpse, without actually dying.

It would almost be easier if she had just died on impact of the curse. But he couldn't afford to think like that; his mother was everything he had.

Draco hadn't felt the alert at first- he was pounding away at his piano with incredible force, playing an angst filled song that almost hurt to listen to as he continued to plot in his mind. The pull on his gut went unnoticed at first, but it grew with increasing urgency. Eventually, it caught the attention of the plotting Slytherin, and his fingers and mind ceased suddenly. The abrupt, drastic silence surprised the portraits along the walls, causing them to glance curiously at the odd blonde boy.

He blinked, momentarily confused and irritated. But his mercury eyes suddenly grew wide with understanding, and he leapt from the piano bench to rush down the hallways faster than he had ever ran before. He arrived at St. Mungo's faster on record time, his mind set to kill.

When he crept into the pathetic, lonely hospital room, he had prepared himself for a lot of things. But he certainly hadn't prepared himself to see his least favorite mudblood pouring her heart out to his mother.

The idea itself made Draco shudder with absolute disgust... so to see it? Draco immediately wanted to interrupt, to get that awful, frizzy-haired little freakshow as far away from his frail mother as possible. He was seething was rage, physically shaking. How dare she! She hadn't known his secret for more than, what, twenty minutes? And here she was, talking to his mother like they were lifelong friends. Dear Merlin, no wonder the trio had managed to discover the secrets of Voldemort's horcruxes; the mudblood was impossibly nosy! He opened his mouth, prepared to shower Granger with every colorful word in his vocabulary.

The only thing that stopped the angered Slytherin was to hear his own name.

"...His mask of anger is quite convincing. I think he's even fooled himself into thinking that all he can ever feel is rage. But wether or not he realizes this, his emotions are a lot stronger than we all think, because he likes to keep them bottled bottled up. That only makes them ten times harder to feel." The mudblood's voice was thoughtful and weak, but the impact it had on Draco's anger was quite the opposite. His fists clenched. She had no right to assume-

Maybe she's right.

No. Of course she's not right, idiot. A mudblood is never right. What does she know about his life, anyway?

She going to know a lot more with the trust exercises.

Draco's inner argument was cut short when the mudblood raised her trembling wand to his mother's paper colored forehead. She wasn't going to kill his mother, that weak, rule-following Gryffindor?

Draco didn't wait to find out.

"What are you doing?" He cried.

Granger turned, clearly startled, and Draco wasted no time in disarming her. Nearly snarling, he pinned her to the wall as she began to tremble slightly. He preferred physical threats over magical; it was more personal this way, more meaningful. With disgust, Draco supposed that only made him more like his father. "You... My mother..." Draco's mind was an incoherent whirlwind of anger, entangling his words.

"It's not what it looks like!" Granger cried, her eyes growing wide with realization.

"Well, you sure do have some explaining to do, because it bloody hell looked pretty bad, mudblood!" Draco spat.

"I was... Going... T-to..." Granger looked down, stuttering. "Look in her mind. Memories... See who did this to her..."

Draco couldn't handle it. Whether it was being so close to a dirty-blooded lowlife, or the whirlwind in his mind had hit a fragile nerve, something inside of Draco snapped. He pushed himself off of the wall and sat on his mother's bedside, drained of emotion just as his mother was drained of life. He couldn't see Granger's face from this angle, which offered him some sort of emotional release. Living with her was more than a tiresome feat, it was Draco's complete and personal hell.

He wished she had said that she was going to kill her. It would be a lot less bothersome than her stuffing her oversized nose in Draco's mother's personal life.

"And why... would you need... to do that?" Draco hissed, his anger sharpening his worn voice.

"Because," Granger said matter-of-factly, apparently braver now that Draco was a safe distance away. Her voice was firm with determination, but Draco could detect the minuscule tremors of fear beneath it. "I'm going to help you."

"Help me?" Draco snapped stiffly. "Help me with what?"

He could feel her eyes bore into his back. "I'm going to help you find a cure."

I planned on stopping after Draco was all like, "no way, she's gonna kill her?", but I figured that was just cruel. Well, this is kinda cruel too... But still. Plus, I mean, Hermione Granger. Kill someone. Yeah, right.

I realize that I kind of overdid Draco's anger in the last few chapters, but I guess I just didn't want him to be too tame, like so many other FanFictions tend to make him appear as. I'll go back and fix what I can, eventually...

I reaaaalllyyyy hope you guys like this chapter. Thanks for the reviews, everyone! I'm SO SO SOOO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO UPDATE THIS STORY! D: Gaaahhh. And it will definitely start to move along a lot more swiftly in the upcoming chapters, I promise. ^^