A nice, short chapter for you all. Just what you wanted, actually?

Chapter 6

Hermione stared at Malfoy in shock. She couldn't believe that he had actually apologized to her. She had come here expecting him to continue acting like the aloof, pompous, spoiled schoolboy he had always been, treating her like the scum of the earth.

After leaving last night, she had stormed nearly the entire way back to her dormitory, only to feel a moment of regret at losing her temper in the way that she had. It wasn't often that she allowed her anger to get the better of her in the way that she had last night, and she knew that Malfoy was under a tremendous amount of stress; she also knew that stress made people react and last out in ways that they normally might not. Hearing that word falling from his lips yet again, however, had flipped a switch in her brain, and she had decided that she'd had enough.

The regret over her reaction had only lasted a moment or two, however, and Hermione proceeded to spend at least an hour or two lying in bed and fuming, internally listing out all of the reasons that she should not go back the next day, and all of the reasons that she should stop helping him. Finally, she had accepted that, as long as he indicated that he truly was trying to change the way he thought and acted, she would continue to help him: it was just her nature. She had eventually drifted off into an uneasy sleep, unsure of what the next day might bring but knowing that she would show up to find out.

She hadn't really expected any kind of apology at all, and certainly not one as sincere as the one he had just given her. It certainly didn't even begin to cover all the emotional scars he had inflicted upon her over the past six years, but at least he had made the effort; it was a start.

Now she stood there staring at him in disbelief. She could see the uncertainty in his eyes as he waited for her response, but he said nothing more, simply stood in front of her with his hands tucked in his pockets and his shoulders bowed ever so slightly as if to protect himself from the rejection that he was sure was coming. But how could she reject him when he seemed so sincere?

As an only child herself, she knew that apologies rarely came easily to those who were used to being the center of their own little universes. She felt sure that this must be even more true for Draco Malfoy, the only child of an only child who had been raised to believe three things unequivocally; that he was better than every other person in their world, that everyone around him should hasten to do his bidding and earn his favor, and that he was capable of doing no wrong. And yet, here he stood, apologizing to her.

"I forgive you, Malfoy," she said simply. Of course, she forgave him; she couldn't do anything but, really.

Draco drew back in shock. He had decided the night before to apologize to Granger; it had only been right considering everything that had happened and how much of an absolute arse he had made of himself. He had never even dared to hope, however, that she would actually forgive him. Yet here she stood, staring at him with absolutely no guile or deceit in her brown eyes and telling him that she forgave him. It astounded him; it humbled him.

People in his world did not forgive. They might move on from what happened, but they remembered, and they held onto that grudge. After all, such a thing was the best weapon to use to defeat your foe when they were down on the ground; it was simply a matter of waiting for the right time to strike. But not Granger. For some reason that he couldn't fathom, he honestly believed her when she said that she forgave him. And so, he said the only thing he could say in return:

"Thank you, Granger."

She nodded her head, and they got to work.

For the rest of the evening, they worked side by side. Draco marveled at the way Granger treated him. She was very studious; this he had already known from years of unintentional observations in their shared classes and at the library. But she also included him in her process, speaking frequently to him whenever she wanted to, according to her strange muggle phrase, 'pick his brain' about something that she had come across that she thought might be useful or important. She even occasionally joked around with him in a much more cautious, reserved version of the way that he had only ever seen her act with Potter and Weasley. After some internal debate, he had decided that he enjoyed the banter that passed back and forth between the two of them.

Later that night, as Draco lay in bed with his dormmates' quiet snores filling the room around him, he had a thought: maybe, just maybe, Granger had actually meant what she had said, and that she had actually forgiven him? That filled him with a surprising sense of…happiness? Contentedness? He wasn't sure what the right word was to describe how he was feeling, but he was certain of one thing: he was going to make sure that he deserved her help from this moment on.

Song Inspiration: So Far Away - Staind

Nice short chapter, but I didn't want to cram it all into the last one, so you get a bonus one today!

sbz