Author's Note: So, you may be wondering why I have posted in a couple days...I must tell you that I was stuck with a bad case of spattergroit (aka writer's block), and I was thinking about how this chapter should go today...and I just grabbed some parchment and a quill (aka my laptop), and just went for it! I hope you guys like it!

Draco returned inside after collecting his thoughts, wondering how he and Hermione would be able to survive there. Despite the fact that everyone avoided the Shrieking Shack...what if someone found them? He was almost positive that Bellatrix told the Dark Lord what had happened...especially if Potter and Weasley managed to escape...And how were they supposed to live here, with no food, and only one wand? Hermione had her beaded bag but he doubted she would store actual money in there...And even if they did...the Death Eaters would probably already be on their tracks...

'I'm such a prick...' he said out loud. "How are we supposed to live here..."

But deep down, Draco knew that Hermione wouldn't be alive if he hadn't rescued her from Bellatrix's clutches. He just didn't think he was the man to do the rescuing. "Draco Malfoy, the coward...can't kill someone, can't save someone..." He leaned against the door somberly. "What can I do?"

"You can stop feeling sorry for yourself and realize the bigger picture." Said Hermione, who was propped up on her elbows, watching him out of the corner of her eyes. "We're all suffering."

Draco didn't even bother to turn to look at her. "Some suffer more than others, Granger."

She smiled bitterly. "What? And you're one of those who do? At least you're not Har-"

"Oh right. It seemed to have completely slipped from my mind." He said loudly. "This war revolves around the Golden Trio. We all have to endanger our lives, and families, and dignity, just to make sure that you three can relax comfortably in some forest, and find whatever the hell he's looking for."

Hermione shot out of the bed before the smirk could even begin to emerge on Draco's face. "At least we're on the right side!" she shouted. "At least we're trying! Harry never asked anyone to die for him, but you know what?!" She glared fiercely at him, daring him to speak. "At least we're on the right side. We're doing what we can to save whatever's left of what your side's destroying! We're willing to risk our own lives for whatever's out there! US! And have you been doing? Crying in a bathroom and lounging in Malfoy Manor?! You're such a..." She faltered, as she saw the look on his face.

"No, continue, Granger. I'm such a what?" he said coldly, casually sticking his hands in his pockets. She didn't answer. "I'm sorry if I wanted to aid the side that so rightfully wants me dead. I'm sorry if I wanted to save your goddamn life." He strode over to her, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "I should have known. What are you going to do now? Report me to the Order?"

"I- I- Well, maybe if- "she started.

"Maybe I should chuck you out right now. Leave it to Greyback and his gang, to finish you off, I'm sure. He'd be delighted at the prospect of some fresh meat...Although I'll have to warn him..." he stepped closer, his lips barely caressing the edge of her ear. "This Mudblood might want to put up a fight..." He sneered, straightening up as he talked.

Hermione gave him a strange look, he could almost see the fear in her eyes. "Why don't you finish me off yourself then, Malfoy? I know you have your wand in your trouser pocket."

He smirked darkly, and pulled it out. "This? It's my mother's wand, actually. But anyways, Granger, you'll probably want to get going. Potter and Weasel will be waiting."

She frowned at him. "I was going to say I was sorry."

"Sorry for what? You didn't call me a coward, you only thought it...that's exactly what you were thinking." He said, as she opened her mouth to protest. "Adjust your splint." He added indifferently, as it began to slip off her shoulder.

"If you were a coward, then why did you save me?" she said.

He ran a hand through his hair, reflectively. "Just thought it would be the right thing." Draco refused to meet her eyes.

She smiled, discerningly. "Really, now? Since when did Death Eaters want to do the right thing?" He folded his arms uncomfortably. "Since when did you have a conversation with me?" he said, attempting to change the subject.

She looked at him knowingly. "Since you stopped making all the wrong choices...Look, I can't pretend that none of this is happening...everything...everything is changing...we don't have time to- to care about who did what, or when. All I can do...is judge you for who you are now."

Draco didn't know how to respond, and he just watched her for a moment, taking in everything. His resentment seemed to melt away, and he felt a pang of regret for what he said earlier. "I don't- I don't know who...who I am..." he confessed.

He studied her face, and he could see...pity?...repulsion? Instead, she took his hand hesitantly, and said wearily. "Perhaps we can find out." His hand felt warm in hers, and he felt...pure, almost. Purer than any feeling he'd encountered at the Manor, or in the Slytherin common room with his friends...purer then life, even. His life, punctured with the iniquities his society permitted, imposed perhaps. But here, as he held Hermione's hand, it felt right. As if she could understand what he felt at the moment. She looked into his eyes uncertainly, and he embraced her, slowly, painstakingly. And as he held her in his arms, the silence wrapping around them evocatively...he felt more than he had in ages...he felt alive...all he knew was the feel of her with him. He felt safe, for once, alive, pure, content. She was right...everything was changing...there was no time to battle each other...there was a better war worth fighting for.

And then she pulled away, and they exchanged glances awkwardly...yet he could see a tiny flicker of a smile obscured in her brown eyes. Hermione cleared her throat. "So...er...if we are going to be living here together...I suppose I should make a few moderations!" She held out a hand expectantly. "May I have your wand?"

He grimaced slightly, and then handed it over. "Do what you must, Granger..."