Draco watched as Hermione turned and exited from the room. He heard her footsteps growing fainter as she descended the stairs leading from the headmasters' office. McGonagall had dismissed them, but he still had a pressing question to ask her.

"And what is it that you still wish to speak to me about, Mr. Malfoy?" the headmistress asked tiredly.

Draco took a deep breath. "You see headmistress, I-" he stumbled, not sure of how to phrase his question. He was still unconvinced. Something about the whole arrangement felt off.

"I don't understand… why choose me?" In all his years there she had never shown him any form of favor and, he admitted bitterly, he had never really done anything to deserve it. The woman had partially confirmed his suspicions- those being her goals to use him, and in extension, Hermione as an example of progress and unity. Despite all she had said, he remained skeptical that he had given her any good reason to appoint him.

She spoke softly, looking wearily down at her desk. "Mr. Malfoy, I would like to confess something to you and I hope you will not take offense at this. When I spoke at the Ministry this past summer, I made reference to the noble acts performed by my students during our brutal battle. I believe I phrased it something like, 'I saw Slytherins acting selflessly and bravely.'"

She paused to look up at him. "I was speaking about you. You saved my life last year, not only once, but twice."

An image of a cloaked figure standing threateningly behind the transfigurations professor surfaced in his mind. He also remembered the giant and knew she was referring to that as the second instance. "But professor, you were the one that saved me. With your shield charm. Besides, I didn't take out the-"

"No, but you did keep him distracted for quite a long time. If you had not acted, I fear that none of us fighting there would have survived." She looked sullenly into his eyes.

"Though I did not have time to ask myself then, when I thought back on it, I wondered why you were there at all." She smiled at him in a way that made him feel left out, like she knew something he didn't. "My dear, I was not mistaken when I placed you in this position. You are a smart and resourceful young man. Though some may call it an odd combination, I think that you and Miss Granger- a Gryffindor and a Slytherin- have the potential to accomplish much."

Draco stood awkwardly, trying to absorb what she had just said. He stood with her in silence for a while. When he realized he had nothing more intelligent to say, he bobbed his head to her in a polite nod and excused himself from the room.

On his way back to the Slytherin dormitory, he thought about her knowing smile. She knew. She knew what was going on inside him. He found this realization strangely comforting. It meant that, to a degree, she understood all the crazy mixed up things that were happening to him or, at the very least, realized that something crazy was happening. Something about the way she had smiled told him that she had figured this out long before he had. He shook his head in disbelief. Women were infuriatingly good at that sometimes.

Last year, Draco had found himself on the wrong side of a war he didn't want to fight, but his own choices had held very little say in why he was on that side. His parents had raised him in a way that sent him down a path he didn't choose. Now, after all he'd been through, right and wrong- instead of black and white- were now two undetectably different shades of grey. He had been told one thing only to turn around and find something entirely different.

Sorrow and confusion weighed heavily on him and he realized bitterly that nothing was his anymore. His ideals were his parents'. His desires were his house's. His goals were based on a lingering sense of peer pressure.

Who was Draco Malfoy? What did he like? What sorts of things made him happy? He didn't know anymore. He felt hollow. He felt numb.

"Honor" he mumbled lowly when he reached the entrance to Slytherin dormitory. He entered and found it nearly deserted. Daphne Greengrass was sitting in green leather lounger reading a book on the far side of the room. He made his way silently over to the hallway leading to the boys' rooms.

Just as he was stepping out of the common room her voice spoke behind him. "So, you decided to come back this year?"

He turned to face her. The book she had been reading now lay open-faced on her lap as she looked at him curiously.

"More like I was forced," he grumbled bitterly.

"I was wondering where you were when you didn't come back from dinner." A shadow of what could have been suspicion crossed her features. Then she asked, "Mind if we have a little chat?"

Draco resisted his urge to twist his face into a scowl. He really didn't feel like talking. But he got the sense that she was hoping to ask him a few questions. Convinced only by the shrewd optimism that his mood probably couldn't get any worse, he meandered over, took a seat on a tufted black ottoman opposite her, and looked at her expectantly.

"Well, you've looked better," she said plainly.

"So have you," he spat. He really wasn't in the mood. If she was going to insult him there was no reason for him to stay.

"Oh come off it, Malfoy. I only meant you look stressed." His surge of anger calmed slightly. "You want to talk about it?"

He really didn't. Besides, what did she care? It was possible she had some sort of ulterior motive, yet he couldn't even begin to imagine what it would be. He sat up stiffly and crossed his arms.

"Guess not," she said, noting his posture. Evidently she was sharper than he would have given her credit. After a short pause, she began again. "Look, I just wanted you to know that I realize this must be hard for you. My year hasn't started off well and my father wasn't even a death eater. None of the girls I hung out with returned this year…" she trailed off.

"I guess it's just you and me." Daphne smiled feebly. He found her sentiment oddly endearing in a terribly lonely sort of way. "I just wanted to let you know that if you want to talk, I'll be here." He met her gaze and saw a familiar pain reflected in the most honest set of blue eyes he had ever seen. She turned her attention back downwards to the book in her lap.

He felt like he could trust her and not just because there wasn't anyone left for her to gossip to behind his back. In all his experiences with her, she had always seemed different to him. Maybe that was the reason he hadn't given her much consideration in the past: because she was more decent than the likes of the rest of his gang.

"I was worried about coming back. I didn't think anyone would be here. Glad I was wrong," Draco said with a weak smile. "At least something went right for me this year. Otherwise I wouldn't have you. Though, I'd take you over Millicent any day."

She looked back up at him and cracked a sideways smirk. "How generous of you. But you can cut the sappiness. We are Slytherins after all. We have a reputation to uphold."

He grinned right back at her. Then, as his smile faded, began more soberly, "If I'm entirely honest with you though, I didn't really want to see anybody from our house again. I don't know that I would have anything in common with them anymore," he finished glumly.

"I know what you mean. I always found the other Slytherin girls to be so desperate and petty. I mean, sure I spent some time with them, but what other options did I have really? Anyways…" She paused and heaved a sigh as she sat back. "You made head boy, huh?" She nodded to his pin.

"Yeah.…yeah… guess I did, didn't I," he said unenthusiastically. Honestly, he still didn't have a single clue how that was ever going to work out.

"Not especially excited to work with Hermione Granger then?"

"Hardly. She's a right pain in the ass. And such a perfect little know-it-all," he scoffed. Daphne raised an eyebrow at him. "McGonagall wants us to kiss and make up. Some nonsense about showing others that we can put the past behind us. It's all rubbish if you ask me."

"You don't have to do that you know."

"Do what?"

"Act like that. There's nobody here but us. And I for one don't give a damn about that pure blood nonsense. In fact, Granger is one of the biggest reasons why." She laughed. "That girl could charm the world to stop spinning."

"Well if you're such a big fan of her, why don't you take my spot as head boy?" he teased.

"Well for one thing, I'm a bit gender challenged, really. And for another, I think that would defeat the point. McGonagall is right you know. This is the perfect way to show everyone that even worst enemies can resolve their issues if their hearts are in the right place."

"Sounds like you've been spending too much time with the Hufflepuffs. No," he shook his head adamantly, "I think McGonagall made a mistake. She's too busy trying to make everyone get along to realize that some things don't change. Granger and I can't be friends. There's too much history."

But even as he said it, he didn't know if he really believed it. No matter how deeply he tried to bury them, his feelings for Hermione kept popping right back up. She wasn't, after all, the one he actually despised. Harry and Ron had done their fair share of throwing stabbing insults right back at him, but she never had. Of course, that didn't change the fact that she was still the most annoyingly perfect person he knew. What with her intelligence and her commanding attitude and the self-righteous expression she adapted when she knew she was right…

"Look, it's getting late. We can talk about this some other time." He stood up, banishing the brunette from his mind. Changing his tone, he then said sincerely, "But thanks Daphne. I'll keep your offer in mind if I ever need someone to talk to. Really, you've already made me feel loads better."

She nodded with a knowing smile. "Anytime, Malfoy. We Slytherins… we've got to stick together."

He exited the room with the ghost of a smile teasing at the corners of his mouth. It occurred to him how much time he had wasted in his years at Hogwarts. He'd been hanging out with the likes of Pansy Parkinson, Crabbe, and Goyle while Daphne was only a few feet away. But he had been a different person during those years. Back then, he would have scorned Daphne for the things she had just said.

Though he was reluctant to admit it, he was starting to think that she was right. He had never been given evidence to suggest that his blood-status gave him any sort of edge. Quite the contrary, in fact, for he was eternally overshadowed by a girl who didn't have a single trace of magical blood. He realized bitterly that, if anything, his own blood status was an affliction: a disease that killed him slowly and drove decent people away from him.

He entered his room and looked around.

Alone again.

But as he dosed off to sleep that night, he didn't find himself missing his old roommates. He wasn't truly alone. He had Daphne, and that was more than he could have ever hoped for.

A/N: Thanks for reading!