A/n: I know it's been a while, but tada! Here's chapter two, and I've sent it off to my beta to be edited. Whenever it returns, it'll be automatically posted. I apologize for the long wait, but I got sidetracked with some of my other stories. Still, I like the chapter anyways, and hope you do too!

And as an early note, thanks to my beta ashash52009!

**Chapter names! Chapter names are done after the lyrics to The Offspring's song Kristy are You Doing Okay? Except, I'll substitute the name :)

danibs: I'm still trying for that, let me know if I succeed :)

Bambi: Yeah, I like that too :) And here you go! It's just later then I wanted...

It had been several days since Harry Potter had heard anything about his best friend, Hermione. Ron had gone to see her a while back, but he returned to Gryffindor common room in an angry manner, and Harry had decided the two must've had a fight. However, something as silly-or heartbreaking, depending-as a fight would never keep the bookworm girl away from her studies, right?

Well, Harry was determined to find out. He would've asked Ginny to do it, you know, girl talk and all, but she was nowhere to be found this fine morning. He had a free period to start off the day with, and he intended to go up to the dorm she shared with ferret-boy and see what the problem was.

Maybe Malfoy is the problem. His expression darkened as he climbed the stairs. If Malfoy was the problem, that could only mean he had done something sinister, and then Harry would just have to make him pay for her. It was only fair, right?

He reached the portrait and knocked several times, annoying the stout man who was sitting at a table within the frame. His dark eyes turned and glared at Harry, who just shrugged sheepishly.

After another ten knocks and the portrait was finally thrown open, revealing a very tired looking Malfoy, who also seemed to have no class this hour. Of course not, Harry thought, we all have potions next hour together. That thought did little to brighten his mood.

"Malfoy," Harry said tightly, "where is Hermione? She hasn't been to class in forever. What did you do?"

The blond boy almost laughed at the Gryffindors stupidity. How could he not know what had happened between his two best friends? Weasley probably didn't have the guts to say anything, afraid of getting in trouble. And Granger...well, she would never say anything anyways. "I didn't do anything Potter," he grumbled instead, leaving the entrance entirely to go and fall back down on the couch. "Go see her if you must, but don't bloody bother me again."

Harry was taken aback by Malfoy's uncharacteristic behavior. There were no insults, crude remarks, challenges to get in, nothing. On further inspection he realized the blond looked tired, and he didn't care to consider why. He had a reputation that everyone knew about, even the men unfortunately.

He had never seemed quite so on edge, however. Deciding it would be best to simply ignore the situation, the dark haired boy turned and walked to the closed bedroom door that he knew to be Hermione's. The other room had the smell of strong cologne drifting out of it, and Granger had never been one to sleep around.

He knocked twice on the hard wood. "Hermione?"

The girl's bushy head shot off of her pillow. She would know that voice anywhere, and unfortunately it wasn't someone she wanted to face. How could she?

Scrambling from the bed, her body sore from remaining in the same position for so long, she snatched up a pair of muggle jeans. "Just a second Harry," she called, searching for a long shirt. Without success, she grabbed her favorite t-shirt and a jumper, sliding them on clumsily, before she timidly walked to the door.

Honestly, she wasn't ready to face anyone. Malfoy was just barely an exception, and it was only because they shared a room, and he bothered to save her. Harry was completely different. He was her best friend now, certainly, right in front of Ginny even, but she felt naked going to see him. He was also best friends to Ron, and Ron had completely betrayed her.

Who's to say the redhead had not made up a lie?

Against everything her mind was telling her to do, she opened the door and stared up at Harry. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of a blond bit of hair, and couldn't decide if she liked that he was there or not.

Her friend looked startled. "Merlin Hermione, you look a mess!"

Her face blanched. She couldn't imagine any of the bruises showing, since she had been particularly careful to cover them with a long lasting concealment charm the first morning. She tried to brush it off however. "That's what every girl wants to hear."

He chuckled, and she sighed in relief. It wasn't the bruises then.

"Sorry," he said, seeming to relax a bit. "You just look like you've had a fight with your covers. Your hair is miles high."

Hermione's hands instantly reached up and grabbed her hair, which had recently turned from an uncomfortable mess into beautiful controlled waves, but was still a bit puffy in the night. "Oh goodness!"

He nodded. "Where have you been," he asked slowly, noticing the fact that she did not once invite him into her room to get away from Malfoy.

She inwardly cringed, but worked to keep her face void of the scared expression. She couldn't possibly tell him what Ron had done; she would be either a liar or he would run at the mere thought. No, the truth was out of the question.

Now Malfoy's blond head was completely visible, and his arms were crossed lazily in front of him as he waited for her answer. Merlin help her, he wanted to see her excuse.

"I've been sick," she said, attempting the same lie she had been using for days. Harry looked a bit skeptical, and she was sure she saw Draco's blond head shaking back and forth.

"You don't look too sick," he said, eyeing her. "You must be feeling better then."

Her heart dropped to her stomach. Of course she didn't look sick, simply because Malfoy hadn't questioned her lies. She had no reason to dress the part, but with Harry, she should've considered the fact that she looked fine with all the evidence hidden. Maybe rather pale, but fine.

"Yes," she said, glancing around the room. "I think I feel a little better."

"Great," he agreed, trying to ignore her strangled voice. "You'll come to potions then?"

She flinched, and he frowned. Of course she didn't want to go to potions! Ron took potions with them, as did Neville, and knowing Ron, he would try to snatch her up to sit by him. She had no desire to be in the same room as him, and she wanted to sink into the floor at that thought. He would never be so stupid as to hurt her in public, but still. She just didn't want to be near him.

"Yes," she lied, hoping she could avoid him and skip the class entirely. Afterwards she had advanced Arithmancy, which she shared with Malfoy, Dean and Neville. That class she would be fine going to, but potions was out of the question. So long as Harry thought she was going, it would be okay.

I can't believe I'm letting that encounter cause me to lie to Harry. I'm bloody pathetic.

Harry grinned. "Great! I've got to go though, Pavarti tricked me into helping her with a bit of Herbology, so her hands don't get dirty." He rolled his eyes and Hermione forced out a laugh, but it sounded hollow even to her ears.

After a few more minutes, Harry left after she promised twice more to go to potions, knowing Malfoy was within hearing distance the whole time. Once the portrait hole shut, she darted back to her room and spun to shut the door; Malfoy, as though psychic, had bounded across the room and gripped the door tightly.

"Wait," he snapped, and she stopped trying to force the door closed, but her grip remained. "You better get ready - shower maybe, before class starts," he continued, shoving the door back hard enough so she was forced to let go.

She looked up at him. "I'm not going."

"Oh, yes you are. Sit by Potter or something," he drawled, rolling his eyes. "Don't hide out up here anymore, or you'll never leave. Stop moping around already Granger."

"Moping," she cried, shoving the heavy blond away. "It's not moping! You try being-" She cut herself off, looking elsewhere.

Draco felt his resolve to be angry at her shrink a little. How could he be angry, when she was still so horribly broken? He wanted to make an angry, cruel retort back, but he held it on the tip of his tongue.

"Just come to class," he snapped, detaching his emotion. No, it would do no good to be mean, but his emotions involving this matter were completely confused, and he would rather cut them off completely then have some strange comment slip.

She shook her head. "No."

"Well then you're letting Weasley win," he snapped, again rolling his eyes. "He got you and now you can't even face him. Great confidence Granger, way to feed his twisted mind."

Before she could reply, he stomped away to his bedroom and slammed the door, leaving her alone. She blinked twice, unsure what to make of things.

Way to feed his twisted mind. She shuddered, and gripped the door handle. There was no way she could face him, even if all it was doing was feeding his mind.

Draco slouched in his potions desk. Blaise Zabini sat beside him, waiting for class to start. Blaise thought the blond's attitude was rather strange, but opted to wait and see what was wrong. He was sure to take it out on some Gryffindor during this hour, and he would much rather see that.

Although he damn near asked Draco what the hell was going on when he saw Granger walk into the room, and he boy sat a little straighter, although a scowl was still evident on his face. What did that mean?

The next thing that happened was even stranger. Granger brushed past her two best friends, Potter and Weasley, to sit beside Neville Longbottom who looked rather alarmed. Potter seemed completely confused by this, but Weasley glared, as though hoping he could burn a hole in the back of her head.

Maybe that's what he was trying for Blaise thought amusingly.

Potions class began, with Malfoy constantly glancing across the room at Granger, Potter and Weasley who were all in front of their desk on the opposite side, and Blaise wondering why he was so interested in them. Twice, Ron walked past her desk and tripped while gathering potion ingredients. Once, he dropped some on her lap and one of the ingredients burned two holes in her skirt, causing her to jump away into Neville, knocking the poor boy over. Snape took away forty points for the disruption.

The second time, most of the class was busy gathering the next set of items from the back of the class, and he tripped, purposefully catching her face with his hand as he did so. Zabini blinked several times, unsure whether or not her had just seen the ginger 'accidentally' purposefully slap Granger.

The only other person to be around then was Malfoy, and Weasel sent him a dirty look as he passed. Draco drew his wand and silently hexed the boy with a simple beauty charm, watching his red hair turn purple. Snape didn't deduct any points for that.

Blaise realized that Draco had also caught the action. How could he possibly consider doing that in a school room of all places. Granger looked horrified, and excused herself from class to Professor Snape, who hadn't caught any of the actions preceding the purple hair. Their teacher watched the girl go with a blank expression, quietly cursing those Gryffindors.

"What do you suppose that was about?" Zabini asked his pale friend, several minutes later as they were gathering their things. Longbottom had been kind enough to collect Hermione's things for her, and he was now holding both piles of books.

Draco hesitated, and Blaise wondered what that meant. "Not sure. Perhaps we should keep a closer eye on Weasley."

Now the Italian was startled. "You want to watch out for Granger? I thought you hated her, Malfoy."

His head whipped around, and Blaise was surprised by the fury within. "I don't. I just don't think his little move earlier was alright either."

He shrugged, grabbing his bag as the bell rang. "Whatever you say mate."

On the walk to Arithmancy, Draco couldn't stop thinking about why he was so angry over all of this. Merlin, he was the one that told her to get to class anyways, so why was he so concerned?

Because, you already know what he did before.

A/n: Review and let me know your thoughts?