Disclaimer: I wish I owned Harry Potter! But I'm glad that J.K. Rowling does, because it wouldn't be as amazing if anyone else did!

Ch. 31

When I had woken up in the Hospital Wing, Draco had already left. He had even abandoned the tray of lunch that Madam Pomfrey had set up for him.

I had followed his example.

As soon as I was up, I slid out of bed and stumbled sleepily off to my next class. It was about two in the afternoon, which meant I would be able to catch my last couple of classes. I had, and fortunately, Draco wasn't in them. I figured it would be too awkward seeing him again after we had spent so much time together already. They were the only two classes that I didn't have with him, which were Arithmancy and Defense against the Dark Arts.

Unfortunatley, Harry was in the latter of the two, and as I sat down in my seat, I caught him staring at me. He seemed guilty, and as my eyes met his, he mouthed something.

"Later", was all he said, and it was all he got the chance to say before the class began.

Ten minutes into the class, my mind began to wander. I wondered whether it was because it was the last class of the day, or because I had possibly taken too many pills, or if I was simply distracted because I was wondering what Harry could possibly want to say to me. I stole another glance at him, and saw that he was obediently reading the sixteen pages that we had been assigned on Acromantula poison and the benefits it provides for Dark Magic – as a matter of fact, it seemed that everyone was reading, and that I out of all people was not.

It wasn't as if I hadn't tried. Many times I had attempted to even get past the second paragraph, but each time I would end up reading the same sentence repeatedly! I groaned inwardly and looked around. Something was off with the classroom, or more likely, the class.

'Well Draco isn't here.' I thought. But that wasn't any type of excuse! He had never even been enrolled in this class!

It irked me that I didn't know what class he was in. On any other day it wouldn't have seemed important, but today was different. Today, it appeared as if I needed him in my presence to focus. Turning back to my book, I brushed away the stupid, unethical thought and attempted to get past the first sentence.

I had been spending way too much time with that boy.

VVVVV

Divination class seemed different today, and I couldn't quite put a finger on it as to why.

I couldn't focus.

I looked around the classroom as Professor Trelawney blabbed on about some ridiculous Seer that she admired. After being in the Hospital Wing for several hours, dozed up on pills, I honestly didn't give a rat's fart about who she admired, or what she was planning on teaching us.

I had left the Hospital Wing before Hermione had, and she had still been sleeping on my way out. I had planned to stay longer –to miss classes of course– but she had done something that I hadn't been able to bear.

She had…sighed. In her sleep.

I shut my eyes at the thought, hoping that I could will it away.

It wasn't the fact that she had sighed that I found unsettling.

It was the way she had done it. As I remembered, goose bumps emerged on my forearms. It had been more of a moan, really. As I had been getting out of my bed, getting ready to haul out of the Hospital Wing before Madam Pomfrey could stop me, Hermione had begun to shift in her bed. Of course, I hadn't really paid it any attention, as it was a perfectly normal thing to do, but then she began to make…noises.

They weren't very loud, they were actually quite faint, and it sounded as if she was talking in her sleep. As I looked at her, I saw that her body had turned to me and that she was hugging her pillow. Her lips were parted slightly, and the covers had shifted, revealing the dramatic curve of her hips, her hair sprawled about the pillow like some curly lioness halo. I would've laughed if I hadn't caught the look on her face first.

Hermione looked peaceful. There weren't really any other words to describe it – and watching her sleep seemed to give me the tranquil buzz that was emerging from her. It was strange, looking at her that way.

The Hermione Granger, proud Gryfinndor know it all, peacefully asleep.

I laughed at the thought. It had seemed that all power she had while she was awake had no effect whilst she slept. Awake, Hermione was different. She was strong, passionate, and domineering.

Asleep? She seemed to be a completely different person. She seemed innocent and weak, and I had had to try my hardest not to reach out and brush away stray curls from her face. As much as I didn't want to admit it, she was even lovelier when she slept.

That was the least of my problems though. When Hermione had turned to face me, a sigh had emerged from her lips. It was lighter than a breath, but it had still managed to unnerve me. It was nearly a moan, and I had had to turn and walk out of the Hospital Wing for fear that it would grow.

I bit my lip.

What could have possibly been so intriguing about her today? Besides the fact that we had talked about sentimental things, subjects I would've never even have imagined us talking about – like children, for example!

And then she had asked me to spend the holidays with her!

I didn't know why, but I wished that I could've found it preposterous. But…I had actually appreciated it. More than she knew.

It wasn't that I didn't want to spend the holidays with my mother.

It's that I was scared to.

Since my father had been privately escorted –carted off, really– to Azkaban, Voldemort hadn't bothered to re-enter our home. The Manor had stayed quiet, and only my mother had remained, along with her favorite House Elf, Missy. I had offered to stay with her, but the moment my supplies letter had come from Hogwarts, she had ruled out my proposition completely. No matter what situation mother was in, she never wanted me to miss school.

'A Malfoy needs to be educated', she would say.

The only reason I could sleep at night –albeit not very well – was because I knew my mother was in no harm whatsoever, and because she was no longer under my father's Imperius curse.

When she was under the curse, she was nothing like the mother I knew, rather a lifeless, obedient, puppet. I hated my father for it, and she often had trouble remembering things in the aftermath.

Not anymore, I thought, and a satisfactory smirk occupied my mouth. The bastard was where he belonged now, in a cold, grimy cell surrounded by Dementors. He might've been my father, but that sure as hell didn't mean he had been a good one.

A nudge in the ribs snapped me out of my thoughts, and instead, I was greeted by the slightly scowling face of Blaise.

"Oi! Will you watch what you're doing and stop smiling mate? Trelawney's crazy bum is just a few tables away, and we still haven't prepared which grim we're going to present!" He whispered frantically. Divination was Blaise's worst subject, as he was constantly busy playing the class clown, but now that his grade was in dire condition, he was taking no chances. Looking down at the large book in front of me, I hurriedly pointed to a random grim that I thought looked satisfactory.

"There. Happy?" I replied sarcastically, somewhat angry that Blaise had jumbled my train of thought. But he didn't reply. Instead, he smirked, his eyes glued to where my finger was pointing on the book.

"A lion huh? Well Draco, it seems that maybe you've been spending a little too much time with certain Gryfinndor." Blaise mused. I rolled my eyes.

What did Hermione have to do with anything?

"Don't worry about who I spend my time with! And what the bloody hell are you talking about? What have lions got to do with anything?" I hissed. Professor Trelawney was getting closer, and now even I was starting to become panicky. Quite a shame it was, the feeling a crazy, tiny, largely bespectacled woman could give you when the fate your grade rested in her bony little hands. Blaise however, had suddenly become unfazed, and was lazily glancing down at my finger on the page again.

"On the page, Draco", he drawled. "Look at the lovely little grim you've decided we'll talk about."

"Blaise, you've got to be kidding me!" I retorted. Here he was, going on about some stupid little lion when I had obviously chosen the Chimaera! "Oh for Christ's sakes Blaise, if you would just use your bleeding eyes –"

But as I looked down at where my finger was located on the page, I saw that Blaise had been right. Pressing into the parchment, my finger had landed on a small picture of a roaring red lion instead of finding the Chimaera just inches away from it. I stared at it for a moment. It was awfully similar to the Gryfinndor lion, and I fought to blush from embarrassment. I could practically hear Blaise smirk.

"Told you", he insisted, before turning and whispering across the room to Dean Thomas, demanding that he give him any and all of the information that he knew about Chimaeras. I shrugged and looked around the room. At least Blaise was only joking.

Before I could say anything to him, my eyes came into contact with Pansy, who was sitting forlornly across the room with a few of her friends who had gotten partnered up with the Patil twins. I felt guilt surge into my stomach as I gazed at her. She looked wan, and her long dark hair hung around her face like a silky curtain. Pansy was still obviously distraught because of what I had done, and I…

I felt…bad.

It was a strange feeling, and I was still getting adjusted to it. Not once, other than this year, had I ever felt bad for anyone. Not even myself. I had been able to shut down my compassion, my pity, and most of all, my emotion. And it had proven effective until I had come into contact with a curly haired, perpetually positive Gryffindor. I sighed and took my eyes off of Pansy, and instead glanced down at the little lion on the page.

Bloody Hell.

VVVVV

As soon as class had ended, I found Harry at my side.

"Can we talk?" He asked, and I merely nodded. As upset as I was by his behavior, that didn't mean I wasn't curious in what he had to say. I walked down the corridor ahead of him until we came into a secluded corner far off from newly released classes.

"What?" I rounded on him. My glare must have been monstrous, for Harry seemed sheepish. I watched as he exhaled and shifted a bit, and waited for him to speak.

"Right. Well…Ginny had told me you were in the Hospital Wing, so I had gone up there to talk to you, but I was too late." Harry paused.

I rolled my eyes. Was this really all he was going to say?

"And?" I urged, crossing my arms, something I had quite the tendency to do when I was upset or disappointed. I caught the slightest smirk grace Harry's features.

"What?"

"Nothing."

I turned exasperatedly to walk away from him, but Harry caught my arm, and before I could even protest, he spoke again.

"Listen, Hermione. I know you're upset at Ron and me –"

"Ronald has got nothing to do with this!" I hissed, attempting to yank my arm out of his grip, but he was stronger than me. 'All that damned Quidditch', I cursed inwardly.

"Fine", Harry continued calmly. "But will at least accept my apology? I'm sorry. For everything."

"Oh that's really rich, Harry! Does that include badmouthing Draco, even after I tried to convince you that he had changed? You didn't even make an effort to believe me!" I spat bitterly. I had finally managed to release my arm from his hold. Actually, he had let me go. Harry sighed, and the guilt on his face alone nearly made me want to forgive him.

No, I thought harshly. I wouldn't forgive Harry until he proved he meant what he saying.

"Yes. I'm sorry for that too. But you've got to understand why I acted like that, Hermione. Six years of torment and all of a sudden you're friends with the perpetrator? It just…sounded really strange, especially since Malfoy's all caught up with the Darker Cause –"

So that's what this was all about? A rivalry between what and who Harry thought was on our side? It seemed understandable, but Harry could've been a bit more lenient with Draco. Although I barely knew anything about Draco's past, that didn't mean he wasn't a good person. If he had been involved in anything, he had certainly been forced into it.

That you could tell just by looking at him.

And from the dreams I had been having…

No, no, those were nothing, only coincidences.

"Forgive me Harry, but it seems you've got your Hero cap on." I replied dryly.

Harry only smiled grimly. "Don't I always?"

I paused for a moment. I wanted to choose my words carefully. "We're friends, Harry. And I'm not going to change that because of your assumptions. Besides, even if Draco was bad, do you honestly think I'd let him get the best of me? I'm always on guard." I assured him.

I smirked tiredly. Had Harry ever stopped to think that I had thought of all these doubts? I had, and I had chosen to store them in the back of my head. But now these bad thoughts of Draco were slowly fading, and at the rate our friendship was going, I suspected they wouldn't stay for long.

Not at all.

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but I continued. "He's a good person. I'm sorry that you can't see that. Hopefully you will one day."

Harry ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. "Hermione, everyone has a good side and a bad one. I know that you've gotten Ginny predominantly on your side, but you've still got to think about this. I've been trying to tell Ginny that as well –"

"Do you doubt your own girlfriend, then?" I asked. I knew that Harry trusted Ginny so much that he could never doubt her or her actions, but he had always remained cautious of everything around her. He loved her too much to let her get hurt. It was one of the things I most admired about Harry.

"Of course not Hermione, but I don't want her or you getting hurt! That's why I'm so wary of him! Not out of dislike, but because I want you two to be safe. I'll be damned if I'd let anyone hurt any of my friends." Harry replied firmly, and his green eyes sparked with defiance.

It seemed that he was finally getting to me, because I could feel the harsh lines on my face soften. I appreciated him, of course I did! I just wanted him to let me make my own decisions.

"You know I love you Harry, don't you? You're like brother to me. You're my best friend. And I know you love me and Ginny. But you've got to understand that I'm going to make my own decisions. You can't protect me from the things you think are unreasonable. I'm going to be friends with Draco. The only thing I can promise you is that I will be careful." I said, and I reached out for Harry's hand. It was warm in mine, and I gave him a small, reassuring squeeze.

"I know. I'm sorry, Hermione. It's your decision." Harry admitted, and I could've kissed him for it. Catching the smile on my face, he hurried on. "But that doesn't mean I won't be watching you two, and if I see anything sketchy, you're going to be hearing from me."

I nodded and before Harry could say another word, I hugged him, hard. Harry laughed, and before I could stop it, I beamed. "Thanks, Harry", I murmured against his robes. He chuckled.

"Right." We broke apart and Harry looked down at me. "I know you probably don't want to be reminded of him, but do you want to know how Ron's been doing?" Harry asked quietly. I bit my lip and winced at the bitter taste that had entered my mouth when his name had been spoken.

"No." I replied harshly. "Why should I care? Ron made it clear that he didn't want to be friends…or anything, really." I sighed. I felt something prick my eyes.

"He'll get over it", Harry tried to reassure me by putting a hand on my shoulder. He knew how heartbreak felt. Last year when Ginny had dated Dean Thomas, Harry had been nearly inconsolable, not properly speaking to anyone for weeks. But he had her now, and I had…

I had Draco. But that wasn't romantic. It was strangely platonic and fragile. He was there for me if I was there for him. It was a gain and get relationship, in a way, and sometimes filled with friendly moments where I believed we could be getting close to becoming…close. But how, when we were so tentative on sharing information about ourselves to one another? It was complicated and best left unspoken. And to think that it had all started by researching kisses…

I could have Dean. He was sweet and confident and smart, and most importantly, he seemed interested in me. But every time I was with him, there seemed to be something he lacked.

"He'll get over her and realize he was wrong", Harry muttered. Somehow he had ended up stroking my hair.

Sylvia? She was just another Lavender – no, much less than that. Lavender was a really good friend of mine now. She was pretty, fun to be around, and could actually hold herself in a decent conversation. She was smarter than she looked. But Sylvia? She was nothing but a daft, conniving, rabid bimbo, and everyone knew it.

What Ron saw in her, I would never know. A feral thought swirled through my head, and I felt the urge to convulse. I wondered if Sylvia had taken Ron's virginity.

Perhaps she had. After all, Sylvia was known for being a slag, and she definitely would've wanted to sleep with Ron. I wondered if he had finally given it up. I hoped not, especially not to a person like her, but given the girl's reputation, I couldn't help but fear it.

During a late night of heart to hearts with Ginny, Lavender, the Patil twins, and myself, an attention hungry, slightly tipsy Lavender had given us the information that I knew now. Lavender had long broken up with Ron by then and she had revealed that he had been too hesitant to do anything but grope or snog her.

"He's like a baby!" Lavender's voice flooded through my ears, her high, girly voice tittering. "I mean, he's lovely, you know? Always so nice and sweet, but he was just too timid for me! It was like he was scared to break me or something…"

At the time, I had quietly relished in the fact that Ron was gentle, and as stupid as I had been, fantasized that he would be gentle with me when we would one day be together. Of course, that dream had shattered into irreversible pieces as soon as he had met that petite, flirtatious, annoying little swat. I despised her for taking my fantasy away, and most of all, for denying me of Ron, whether he wanted to be romantic with me or not. I had thought we were leading up to something. He could've made me happy.

"He cares about you." Harry murmured, pulling me close again. As hard as he was trying to reassure me, each time, his attempt would be thwarted by a vision of a small, dark-haired girl crawling all over a tall, familiar, ginger boy.

"She's nothing compared to you, Hermione. Ron will see that." Harry continued.

"Sure he will", I muttered in response. But the giant inkling in my chest confirmed he wouldn't, and if he did, it would be well too late.

VVVVV

Hey guys! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. This one was a tad bit sad for Hermione; she's starting to go back to her slump! But not to worry, Draco will be there to save the day, and spend more time with his lovely Gryffindor! At least not she's made up with Harry and Ginny, so she has some of her friends back before Christmas comes around! And whatever shall we do with Dean? Feel free to leave reviews, ideas, or constructive criticisms! They make me so happy, and if you have any questions, please let me know! I hope you all had a great and happy New Year, 2011!