DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter, nor am I affiliated in any way with J.K. Rowling.

"I've really messed this one up," Draco muttered, his head in his hands as he sat at the familiar table in the library. "And I mean really. Catastrophic is actually an understatement."

"Zella will never forgive me now," Trayton sighed, lost in his own realms of trouble and grief.

"Well, yes, you slaughtered her, I'm not surprised if she's a little sore at you," Draco snapped, throwing the ghost a glare.

"Yes, Draco, I did," Trayton retaliated furiously, the bookcases around them quivering violently. "And if I did that to someone I loved in life, why would I hesitate to do it to someone like you in death where I have nothing to fear?"

"Because then you'd have to convince Hermione all by yourself and I'd say that right now she hates you even more-"

"Than she hates you?" Trayton cut in, cocking his head to the side. "Well, that is a rather considerable amount."

"This is all your fault," Draco spat at him, standing up so quickly that the chair beneath him toppled sideways.

"Yes, you manipulated someone you supposedly care about for information, you tried to steal a precious family heirloom from her, you hid things from her, you lied to her and you effectively allowed her to be half-driven to insanity…I see now how this is all my fault."

"It is!" Draco insisted angrily. "You made me do those things!"

Trayton laughed mirthlessly and shook his transparent head in disgust.

"Listen to me, you selfish, ignorant boy. If you're going to use someone, ensure that you're not going to feel guilty about it later. Compassion is a blessing, yes, but sometimes it needs to be thrown aside in favour of more important things. You can't let your emotions get in the way of what needs to be done."

"I suppose you'd know all about that," Draco taunted lightly, changing tack. He could be cruel when the occasion called and he found that the truth phrased the right way and in the right tone was so much more effective than screaming insults. "Tell me, what did you feel that night? You must've seen Zella's eyes when she realized it was you who was ended her life so abruptly…you, the person who she loved and trusted the most in the whole world." He scoffed and coolly raised an eyebrow. "You're telling me that you saw all that and didn't feel a thing?"

Trayton face twitched but he determinedly held Draco's gaze. His eyes gave him away though.

"Yes."

"Then you're a liar."

Draco watched as Trayton seemingly melted away, too angry to say anything else. Did it give him any satisfaction? In truth, yes. There were many things that he didn't like, and being told he was to blame for something was one of them. Especially when it wasn't completely his fault.

When potions had finished that morning, he had come straight to the library. He didn't really know why; Hermione didn't seem to come here anymore. Regardless, this was always the first place he checked when he wanted to talk to her. Like now.

She had completely overreacted back in potions. Had she stayed, Draco would've had the time to explain to her exactly why he hadn't told her instead of just running off like that. Drama queen.

The logical side of Draco asked him how he could be angry at Hermione for reacting exactly the way she should have done. But the rest of his mind reminded him that she had no cause to be upset, it wasn't as though Draco had kept it from her for bad reasons. And she would realize this as soon as he found her and told her. Whenever that may be.

"…And that's when I saw Trayton's face," Hermione finished off glumly, all cried out for the time being. "Zella was just, I don't know, she was inconsolable."

"I'll bet," Harry murmured. "That must have been awful for her."

"And for you," Ron added, patting Hermione sympathetically on the arm.

Hermione managed a weak smile as the group descended into silence. The common room around them was bustling but no one paid them any attention, apart from the occasional person asking Hermione if she was okay. Some people were genuinely concerned but others, like Lavender and Parvati, asked it with a gleam in their eyes, obviously having seen Hermione and Draco talking just before Hermione stormed out in tears.

"So what will you do now?" Harry asked slowly, not wanting to ask but knowing that he had to. "I mean, Zella needs your help more than ever, you can't just abandon her."

"She can if it means talking to Malfoy again," Ron corrected stubbornly. "That fact that he's a complete twat aside, he shouldn't have kept something like that from Hermione in the first place."

"And therein lies the problem," Hermione sighed. "I can't leave Zella alone but I also can't speak to Dra…Malfoy right now."

"Do you want us to beat him up?" Ron asked sincerely.

"How will that solve anything?" Hermione asked, bemused.

"Well, it'll make me feel better, I don't know about Harry-"

"It'll make me feel better," Harry assured with a grim smile.

"It'll make us feel better," Ron repeated to Hermione, his face lighting up. "Please?"

"No," Hermione said, managing a small laugh. "That will only make things worse. Besides, as much as I hate to admit it, I actually need him."

She hadn't realized this before, but saying it out loud made it clearer. She needed him to help her with Trayton and Zella, she needed him to give his frank views on things, she needed him to make her laugh when things got difficult.

"I'll talk to him," Hermione decided, her stomach dropping at the idea. When Harry and Ron's faces darkened, she hastened to add, "Well, I have to! The sooner I get the ghost business cleared up, the sooner we can all go back to normal."

What she didn't add, however, was that she didn't really want to go back to normal if normal didn't include seeing Draco.

The next morning, his mind fully made up, Draco strode to breakfast. His resolve faltered when, not only was Hermione not there, but he was receiving death glares from the majority of the Gryffindor table. More so than usual, that was.

"What's with them?" he asked Pansy as he took his seat, feeling far too many pairs of eyes on him.

"Apparently you really upset golden girl Granger," Pansy shrugged, spreading thick butter across her toast. She glanced at him. "Did you?"

"You have to ask?" Blaise Zabini chimed in, dryly helpful as ever.

"Thanks, Blaise, for that vote of confidence," Draco frowned, helping himself to breakfast. "But yeah, I sort of did."

Blaise chuckled approvingly but the noise was drowned out as the owls descended into the hall for their morning duties. Draco glanced up and out of the windows, where snow covered the grounds. When a letter dropped in front of Blaise, he lifted a dark eyebrow at it.

"Are you going to sit there glaring at it or are you going to open it?" Pansy all but demanded above the noise.

Blaise sighed and opened the envelope. He scanned the letter it contained and rolled his eyes when he'd finished.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked as Blaise crumpled up the letter.

"My mother's getting married," Blaise explained, contempt poisoning his tone. "Again."

"This is, what, the seventh time?" Draco asked lightly.

"Eighth," Blaise corrected in disgust. "Wonder how this one will end up?"

"Dead in a ditch?" Pansy suggested, shooting him a sly glance.

"My mother has more class than that," Blaise sneered in reply.

Draco was about to wittily retort something (because even Slytherins enjoy a good 'your mother' joke) when he noticed Hermione and her boneheaded friends had sat down at their table, evidently having come in when the owls were descending. An owl had dropped a parcel in front of Hermione and, as he watched her open it, Draco inwardly prayed it wasn't another haunted piece of jewellery.

"I mean, come on, like this marriage will be any different than all the others," Blaise was (still) complaining. "He's rich and handsome and soon he'll become very boring and all my mother will have to do is make sure he's included her in his will."

"You have pretty serious mother issues, don't you?" Draco said, turning his attention back to the conversation.

"Says you," Blaise answered with another lift of his eyebrow.

"I get along with my mother perfectly well," Draco shrugged. It's my father who's the bastard. "What are you doing over Christmas?"

"Going home, most likely to meet," Blaise straightened the letter out and read disparagingly, "Rupert."

"My parents say they want to get out of the country," Pansy informed them all. "Somewhere warm, hopefully. Get away from this damn weather. What are you doing, Draco?"

He shrugged, quickly glancing over at Hermione. He was going home, of course, but he didn't want to leave her alone with two very angry ghosts. That only strengthened his resolve to speak to her…only not here, not in front of everyone. He'd lost his nerve. Instead, in true Slytherin style, he'd catch her when she was alone and force her to hear him out…or something. Planning wasn't his strong suit, although he'd had enough time to think of a strategy. Maybe he'd just wing it and hope for the best.

He looked at Hermione again, the exact same moment she glanced up at him. Their eyes locked for a moment before she hastily looked away. He sighed and turned back to breakfast.

"Hermione, why are we outside?" Ron complained three hours later and he, Harry and Hermione trudged through the blanket of snow that covered the ground.

"Because we haven't visited Hagrid in a long time and I feel bad for it," Hermione answered, her breaths coming out in mists.

"I'll feel worse when I die of pneumonia," Ron muttered.

"What was that?" Hermione asked sharply, stopping walking and turning around to him with her arms crossed.

"Nothing," Ron said quickly. "Just that it's pneumonia-contracting weather."

Hermione narrowed her eyes although privately she too was slowly becoming numb because of the temperature. She was about to go on a rant but was cut off by someone shouting her name. She turned and her face instantly fell.

"You're kidding me with this," Harry muttered, taking a step towards Draco as he tracked through the snow.

"Harry," Hermione warned. "I need to talk to him sooner or later."

Harry glanced at her, his anger fading slightly as he nodded and stepped back. They all watched as Draco, don in an emerald green scarf that was visible a mile away, made his way towards them.

"Hermione," Draco repeated, doing his best to ignore the hatred radiating from Harry and Ron that was enough to melt the snow around them. "Can I talk to you?"

"Yes," Hermione answered shortly, doing her best to maintain eye contact with him although her gaze kept drifting away. "Walk with me?"

Draco nodded and made to step out of Harry and Ron's way. But Ron remained firmly where he was, his eyes colder than the icicles that hung from the trees.

"You hurt her again and I'll beat you to death with a shovel, you understand that, Malfoy?"

Draco nodded stiffly before walking around him and waiting for Hermione to join him. He looked at her expectantly.

"I'll see you later," Hermione murmured to her friends. "Say hello to Hagrid for me."

She and Draco began to walk, slow enough to hear Harry and Ron's muted conversation:

"Why a shovel?" Harry asked, amused.

"Well, he'd see magic attacks coming, wouldn't he?" Ron asked as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

"And he wouldn't see a shovel coming?"

"No one sees a shovel coming, Harry."

Hermione smiled to herself.

"Your friends are idiots," Draco told her as they tread carefully down the path to the forest.

"They may be, but they're my friends and I trust them," Hermione replied coolly, the mood turning serious with her words.

"You don't trust me?"

"Why should I?"

Draco sighed and seemed to struggle for words.

"See, you can't even tell me," Hermione said quietly. "We're just wasting our time here."

"I wouldn't be talking to you if I thought it was a waste of time," Draco informed her testily, scowling at the ground.

"So then why are you talking to me?" Hermione challenged, deciding that the trees around them were a good enough cover for a confrontation and coming to a stop.

"Because I want you back."

"Excuse me?"

"I didn't mean that, obviously," Draco explained quickly. "I meant that I need you." At her raised eyebrows, he panicked. "No, I didn't mean that either." Marvelling at how quickly he had messed up, he fumbled over his sentences until he settled for saying, "I don't know what to tell you."

"Try the truth," Hermione said, more gently but still remaining cautious.

She was giving him a chance and he would grasp at that chance with all his strength.

"The day in the library was…" Draco sighed and shifted, unable to look at anything other that the trees surrounding them. "I enjoyed it. Talking. With you." He sighed and shook his head slightly. "But then you left and Trayton came and he told me everything and I..." He tried to choose his next words carefully. "I knew that what he told me would cause problems, for me, for you, for our…friendship."

He glanced up and quickly away again. He was being pathetic, he knew it, but at least he wasn't blushing. Now that would be embarrassing. Nor was he putting himself out there. Telling Hermione that he couldn't stop thinking about her, that he missed her, only for her to tell him she didn't feel the same or, Merlin forbid, laugh at him? That would be unbearable. He hadn't really had self-doubt before and he had to say that he wasn't liking it very much.

"So you ignored me and insulted me instead?" Hermione asked, frowning. "That caused problems for me."

"It wasn't like I wanted to do it," Draco pointed out with a frown of his own.

"Surely you knew that I'd find out eventually?" Hermione challenged. "Why hide it from me? Why go to all that bother?"

A long, painful silence filled the air.

"I didn't want you to think that I was like every other Slytherin," Draco finally admitted quietly. "Or like every other Malfoy. I wanted you to think that I was different."

Hermione scoffed and turned away, suddenly angry.

"I did," she told him, unexplained venom in her voice. "At first." She shook her head sadly as light snowflakes began to dance from the sky. "But you've done nothing to show me that you're any different than what I expected you to be."

"I am different," Draco disagreed.

"Why did you agree to help Trayton?" Hermione asked quietly, her eyes fixed in front of her.

"Truthfully? Because there was something in it for me."

"Then you're no different."

"But I want to be, shouldn't that count for something?" He took a step towards her and his voice became softer. "I'm sorry that I didn't tell you. It was stupid and selfish but it was for you."

It was amazing how much easier he found it talking to the back of her head; he didn't have her eyes to distract him, or that look she got when she was considering hurting him.

"You've made me question everything I know about muggleborns, did you know that? It's quite a feat. I can be very stubborn."

"I've noticed," Hermione answered.

"Which is why I'm not going to give up until you forgive me."

"And if that never happens?"

"Then I'll think you're ridiculously overreacting," Draco answered promptly. Just because he liked the girl didn't mean he wouldn't continue to speak his mind. "But I'll keep trying regardless." He paused thoughtfully. This would be embarrassing but hopefully worth it. "You still don't think I'm different than other Slytherins? Alright. My mother has a large collection of books. One day a few years ago I picked up 'Little Women' and read it all. I couldn't put it down and I cried when Beth died."

Hermione half-turned, the beginnings of a smile on her lips.

"You cried?" she asked.

"A little," Draco answered, trying to keep whatever masculinity he had left. "It was sad."

"It was," Hermione agreed. "But you, Draco Malfoy, cried?"

She turned completely, her eyes sparkling with amusement and a smile firmly planted on her lips.

"No," Draco answered, seeing that his revelation would provide Hermione with endless fuel for mocking him. "I lied. I laughed evilly and rubbed my hands with glee."

"Too late now," Hermione teased. "I've seen your human side."

"Do you like it?" Draco asked, testing the waters.

"I've seen worse," Hermione smiled. "Now let's go back inside. It's cold, not to mention lunch is nearly over."

"Meet me in the library tonight?" Draco asked casually as they began their walk back to Hogwarts.

"Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"Yes, I'm being aloof."

"It doesn't suit you."

"Noted."

They walked in amiable silence for awhile.

"So…do you cry at every sad piece of literature or was it exclusively a 'Little Women' thing?" Hermione asked, casting a sly sideways glance at her walking partner.

"Shut up, Granger," Draco answered evenly.

Hermione just smiled.

A/N:

Hey everyone, sorry about the lateness of the chapter, I've got so much coursework going on right now it's freaking untrue. Also, I'm in London for a couple of days next week, not sure if another chapter will be out before then.

Hermione's still annoyed with Draco, but who can resist that Slytherin charm? (:

I kind of had to include snow in this chapter, because in the last week we've had a lot of snow here in England. It's funny, in a bad way, because everything has kind of just shut down. Apparently, we are NOT equipped to deal with snow. But hey, I got a couple of days off college so I wasn't complaining (:

Hope that you all enjoyed, thank you very much for your reviews, they honestly kept me so motivated when I'm drinking endless cups of coffee and typing furiously.

Have a great rest of week everyone!

- Momo