He knew that his friends wouldn't believe his lame excuse for escape, but it was all his mind could think of. Draco Malfoy tore through the empty corridor, trying to get anything that was in his mind out of it.

Draco slowed to a stop and leaned against the wall. He was in an isolated corridor, not unusual, as it was dinner time. He pressed his back against the cool stone, listening to the heavy beating of his heart. Memories haunted him, hoarding his mind and threatening to break the mask he had so carefully composed seventeen years ago. A Malfoy must not feel. A Malfoy must not show emotion.

Draco scoffed, looking at himself now. If someone had told him that he would be heading in this direction a year ago, Draco would have scoffed and admitted them to St. Mungo's. He would have done anything to prevent it.

But now he found that he hardly cared.

It was his father's fault. Draco knew that deep down the blame didn't all lie with Lucius Malfoy, but he found it easier to let the brunt of it be bared by him. Draco didn't understand, why didn't his father understand? Being flawless was impossible, though Lucius Malfoy didn't think that being immaculate was impossible to achieve for his son.

"A disappointment, tainting the family name…" the words floated through his head, and unknowingly, Draco drew back his fist and punched the wall as hard as he could. He didn't realize what he had done until he felt the warm blood gush over his clenched fingers, the skin breaking over his knuckles, and the pain shoot through his hand.

The blonde stared at his hand in awe, unclenching it and studying the pulsing blood before his eyes. It was numbing yet exciting at the same time. Adrenaline rushed through his heart again, fast like the blood dribbling across his pale fingers.

He spread his fingers to see the extent of the raw wound. Draco sighed to himself; it was large enough that people would ask questions. But then again, maybe not. No one had asked him what was wrong yet, so why assume that they ever would?

Draco resumed to walking down the hallway, deciding it was best to clean up his hand before many people noticed. His mind was clouded as he picked up his pace and turned the corner of the hall, only to find someone small smacking into his chest at the next moment. He caught his balance quickly on the wall, steadying his body, but the other person wasn't as lucky, and was sent tumbling to the floor.

Big eyes stared up at him expectantly. His breath caught in his throat. Great, of all people he had to run into, it was Potter's girlfriend. No doubt she would go running to Potter saying that he attacked her. Then the rest of her family would be involved. His eyes travelled down her trademark red hair, like the rest of the Weasley's, except it was a deeper, darker red, then the orangey red that the rest of her brothers had. It was kind of…pretty.

They stayed like that in silence for a moment before Draco offered his hand to her, too late realizing that it was the injured one. He watched as her eyes widened comically and she scrambled to her feet. He would have been pretty sure he heard her gasp too, if he didn't know that her mouth didn't at all move and no sound came from her until she said,

"Oh Merlin, your hand, you're hurt!" she exclaimed, taking his hand in hers involuntarily. Ginny, that was her name, went into Mother Hen mode and automatically pulled his hand closer to her to inspect, bringing Draco along with it. "What happened?" she asked curiously. Draco was seriously touched by the small amount of concern she was showing him. Maybe some people in the world did give a damn about what happened to him after all. Ginny continued to stare at him, and he realized that she was waiting for an answer.

"Why do you care?" he settled on the safest thing he could say. It didn't occur to him afterward that the response he got could impact him greatly. Ginny stood speechless for a moment before regaining her composure. That was one of the things he liked about her, quick on her feet, always something on the tip of her tongue. Draco hadn't seen her loose her cool once. What are you talking about? You don't like anything about her.

"I don't,"

That was all it took for that little comfort he had to come crashing down. Draco exhaled, steeling his face and making it impossible to read. "If you don't care, don't ask," he pulled his hand away, forcing himself to ignore the hurt he saw flash through her eyes. Those eyes…

Draco pushed past her, taking care not to brush her shoulder too hard. By the time he reached the door, he faintly heard his name being called, but he didn't turn back. Instead he kept walking until he reached a painting of a knight riding a horse. "Trust," he said in a monotone, and the portrait swung open obediently.

And so he entered the Head common room, dead set on going to bed.

But of course he didn't get to his bedroom as soon as he planned. Because there stood Hermione, blocking his bedroom door, clad in underwear and a tank top.

"I suppose we should get back to the Common Room," Harry said, standing. The rest of the Golden Trio nodded.

"See you tomorrow, Hermione!" Ron said, sad to see her go but giving her an enthusiastic farewell.

"I don't have patrols tonight, actually. I have the entire night off," Hermione said.

"Yes!" Ron exclaimed a little too loudly. He did a little happy dance, which made Hermione face palm in embarrassment. Luckily, Harry grabbed his arm before he could do a fist pump.

Harry grinned at her. "That's great, Hermione, how'd you manage?"

"I don't know, but I'm not going to complain! This is the first night that I have no Head duties at all in weeks!" she smiled back at her friends happily. She didn't break her grin as Zabini and Parkinson passed by her looking angry as usual.

"What's up with them?" Harry asked, and Hermione shrugged.

"I don't know and I don't care," Hermione said happily, and Harry nodded. Just then she noticed Ginny walk by sulkily. "Ginny, what are you doing tonight?" she asked her. The red head turned, surprised.

"Oh, I-" but Hermione cut her off, thinking she was being polite.

"Are you sure you don't want to join us?" Half of her wanted Ginny to say no. Maybe more than half did. She had never taken much of a liking towards the youngest Weasley. She was too much like Lavender Brown for her taste.

"Yeah, I've got loads of homework to do," Hermione perked at this, not noticing that Ginny said the white lie a little too quickly. All that passed through her mind was that at least someone was getting their homework done. Ginny snorted for some reason that Hermione couldn't place, causing her to narrow her eyes at her back until she was out of sight.

The Gryffindor Common room was as welcoming as always, the red colors and warm glow of the fire making Hermione feel right at home. However, something felt off when she settled on the couch next to Harry while Ron took the armchair to their right. Something felt even more off when Lavender Brown stationed herself in Ron's lap.

Hermione felt her heart clutch. It was like fourth year all over again. Hermione put on a sunny smile, determined not to let this side factor ruin her night. It contrasted with her darkening eyes.

The evening did not pick up as it should have. Harry sat on the couch beside her, his face fuzzy with confusion. Occasionally he would take off his glasses, swipe them with the cuff of his shirt sleeve, then pinch the bridge of his nose.

Lavender had gotten off of Ron's lap, she was lucky, for Hermione didn't know how much longer she could bear it and promise Lavender's safety. However, now she was currently pushing herself in Ronald Weasley's face, much to his delight or disgust, Hermione could not tell.

And so the night went on, a competition between the two girls to gain the fortunate Ron's attention.

Hermione became far too tired of Lavender's cleavage and Ron's drool. She got up, giving Harry a pat on the knee before standing and exiting the Common room without another word. She quietly made her way to the painting of a Knight on a horse. "Trust," she whispered, her voice barely audible. The portrait swung open, and Hermione scampered inside. She dropped her book bag on the ground carelessly and raced into the bathroom, quickly locking the door behind her.

Hermione slowly turned to face the girl staring back at her through the glass. She didn't understand why Ron couldn't notice her. She continued to stare at the girl.

She had dull brown eyes. Hermione grabbed a piece of her hair, watching the other girl do the same. She turned it in her fingers. It was bushy and wild. Her heavy robes concealed her. Hermione stripped off her school robe until she was only standing in her tank top and underwear. If she truly wanted to make Ron notice her, she would obviously have to change.

Hermione returned to her room and went into her closet. After some fishing around, she finally found a little pink bag. It had been a gift from Parvarti for her birthday last year. Taking a deep breath, she opened it.

She pulled out a little tube of lip gloss; mascara; eye shadow; blusher; and foundation. On a little note card was a charm for straightening hair. Hermione exhaled, her hand shaky as she once again closed the bathroom door behind her and picked up the lip gloss, swiping it across her lips so that they turned coral and shimmered. She carefully put on some eye shadow, not wanting to go too dark, and then some mascara.

The girl stepped back and surveyed herself in the mirror. Sleek chocolate brown hair fell past her shoulders, chocolate eyes stared back at her, and pretty pink lips pulled into a smile at the sight before her. Hermione sighed, she had never done this before, and she felt…pretty.

Flipping off the light in the bathroom, Hermione padded over to her bed, reaching for her book bag, before groaning to herself. She had left it in the Common room. If she was quick enough she might be able to retrieve it before Draco came back. Nodding to herself, she wouldn't start falling behind on homework because of a makeover, Hermione started down the stairs. She had just passed in front of the Head Boy's bedroom when the Head boy himself came clambering through the portrait hole.

Hermione didn't think much of it until he looked up and she saw his eyes widen.

Oh yeah.

She forgot how she was dressed.

I know Hermione was OOC, so please don't tell me that she was. Right now, I am trying to show you a bunch of different POVs to get a feel of everyone. Meanwhile, tell me what you think!

Review :)