Hermione sat on a bench in the corridors of the north wing. She sobbed slightly and thought about her idiocy. He had been showing feeling with her and then just running to her? Had he been lying to her the whole time? He would sate a part of himself with her and run back to Pansy to finish everything off with her.

How could I be so stupid? She thought.

“Hermione? Are you alright?” She looked up to see Luna looking down at her contemplatively.

“Oh, hello Luna, I’m fine.” She sniffed.

“I beg your pardon but you don’t look quite fine to me.” She walked over to the bench and took a seat next to Hermione.

“It’s nothing, Luna.” She sighed.

“It wouldn’t perhaps have something to do with Draco Malfoy would it?”

Hermione’s head snapped to the side as she looked up at Luna with bewilderment. “Wha-Why would you suggest that?”

“I’ve seen you talking to him around the castle, and the way you look at him, not to mention the way you reacted just now.”

Luna looked at Hermione with her sweet face smiling gently, as if she understands something so much deeper than can be explained. Hermione suddenly felt no restrictions in speaking to her.

“Yes it is.” She went on to detail her encounters with Draco and Luna sat there thoughtfully listening to her. “And so I shoved past them and here I am.”

“It seems to me that you’ve invested a lot more emotion into him than you ever thought you would.”

Hermione thought about denying it but at this point she couldn’t help but reveal that it was the truth. “I know I shouldn’t and that he’s a bad guy but there’s just something there. I thought he felt it too but apparently not.”

“I don’t think Draco is a bad guy, just a little misunderstood.”

“How do you mean?”

“I used to see him around school a few years ago looking nervous. I saw him sitting in a corner of the halls one night with his hands over his face, he was crying.”

“Why?”

“Can you not imagine?”

Hermione thought about it, he had been under a lot of pressure in the past years; his father pressuring him into becoming a part of a world that he had no interest in. Not to mention that Voldemort took a particular interest in him. It was hard enough for her dealing with the things that she did, but she never thought about how hard it was for him to be amongst it all.

“I went back to my room and found my leather woven bracelet, my father bought it for me for luck, and I put it next to him. He flinched away and we looked at one another for a few seconds. I told him that it was for luck and that it would keep him safe. He got up and left, but when I looked down the bracelet was gone. There’s a lot more to him than you would think. He doesn’t mean to hurt you; he just doesn’t know how to make you feel good because no one ever showed him that courtesy.” Luna smiled sincerely and Hermione wondered how she could be only the mere age that she was.

“I can't believe I never thought of it like that; I’m so stupid!”

“I don’t think you’re stupid; your mind is just running around with so many things that it’s hard to cram anything else inside.”

“Thanks Luna.”

“That’s alright, have a good Christmas Hermione.” She hopped up and wandered airily down the corridor in her red, white and gold Christmas clothing.

She watched as Luna headed to the astronomy tower and thought to herself that she couldn’t let Draco’s mistakes, or perhaps purposeful sabotages, get in the way of what she wanted. And right now all she wanted was to prove to Draco that he’s better than he thinks; making a fool of Pansy will only be a plus.

Draco walked back into the castle after almost two hours in the cold snow. He had removed his jacket while he tried his luck in a boxing match with a tree; needless to say he came out worse for wear. He had sat in the snow with his hand red and bloody; the sleet melting into his clothes and infusing his body with ice. It’s not like he didn’t already fee like it. When he finally looked down at his watch he realised he had little over an hour to make it to the train. He stood up and gathered his jacket, his lips blue and his teeth chattering. His luggage had been taken to the station already. The only thing left was for him to catch the train and leave with Pansy.

He walked slowly towards the station, his body heat slowly leaving him as his wet clothing caught the cold wind. It was a half hours walk before he made the distance.

He saw Pansy waiting by one of the doors and she smiled when she saw him walking towards her. It wasn’t hard to notice the difference between her smile and the one Hermione had given him this morning. He nudged his pocked and felt the small package she had given him.

“There you are. Why the hell are you all wet?” She gave him a disapproving look.

“I slipped in the snow.” He said through clenched teeth.

This was partly due to anger but mostly due to the frozen nature of his body.

“Whatever, just come on.” She grabbed his arm to tug him but somehow he couldn’t force himself to move. “What is it?”

“I just have to check my luggage.”

“Meet me on the train then.” She let go of his arm and walked onto the train without as much as a backwards glance.

He looked at his watch; five minutes until the train leaves, then no trains incoming or outgoing for three days. He moved quickly to the luggage compartment and opened the door. He pulled out his wand, eleven and a half inch black hawthorn. He had taken it back from Potter at the end of the battle, more so it had been returned to him. It was in his kitchen when he and his parents had gone back home.

“Accio!” He shouted and his luggage came flying towards him, causing a number of crates and trunks to come crashing to the ground.

He grabbed it with his wounded hands and pulled it out of the train. He winced as he dragged it to a nearby carriage and threw it on. Once it returned to the castle the house elves would return it to his dorm. The whistle blew on the train and he saw the attendants begin to close the doors. He felt no guilt in turning away from the train as it drew away from the station.

Hermione ran down to the station, maybe the train was still there. She ran up the steps and didn’t see the train. She smelt the smoke from its engines and sighed. She was too late. He was gone, probably with Pansy, back to London and to Hermione that was about as far away as they could be from one another.

She headed back to the castle and sat in the hall reading a book. There were very few people in the hall now, most of them reading or working on essays. She twisted a lock of hair around her finger as her eyes sped across the pages. She heard something crash at the entrance to the hall and she looked up to see Draco cussing and clutching his hands before looking around the room. His eyes locked on her and he made quick strides towards her.

“I wasn’t… I never tried to… she’s just…” He stammered.

Hermione saw his lips trembling and his body shivering and she could just feel the cold from his form reaching out to her and trying to pull her in. “You must be freezing!”

He looked at her with disbelief and stammered again. “I… but I was… yes.”

She reached out for his hands and gasped when she saw how beaten up they were. “What have you done to your hands?!” He still looked at her without understanding and she smiled. “Come with me.”

“Where?”

“Come up to my dormitory.”

“I don’t think that will help.”

She smiled, slightly amused, “I am not Pansy Parkinson,” she saw his cheeks flush faintly. “Do you trust me?”

Draco looked at her as if he did not understand. He didn’t trust anyone; he hasn’t trusted anyone in a long time. It’s been a long time since anyone has given him reason to. Yet here she was, this sweet beautiful thing sitting in front of him asking for the one thing he couldn’t give, and he so desperately wanted to give it to her. He would give her everything. This being the case he nodded slowly and met her shining eyes.

She led him up to the Gryffindor common room and told him to put his hood on before they reached the fat lady’s portrait. He did so and she gave the password. He noticed the fat lady give him a suspecting look before they jumped through the entrance. When they got inside a few students looked up and one called out.

“What are you doing here?! This isn’t your common room!”

“Drop it McDermott!” Hermione called back and took Draco by the fingertips and they ran up to her dormitory.

By now she was the only Gryffindor girl in her year to be still at the castle so she also had the dorm to herself. She laughed as they quickly made their way through the door and locked it behind themselves. The melodious sound of her laughter made Draco’s icy body warm up, metaphorically, he was still freezing.

She spun around and put her arms around him before reaching up on her toes and gently pressing her lips against his for a fleeting moment before she pulled away and began pulling vials from her bag.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“I’m preparing a remedy for those cuts and bruises on your hands. What on earth have you done to them?”

He looked at her with suspicion. He had betrayed her trust, done the unthinkable, and she was, helping him? His instincts told him that she was setting him up for some sort of failure, or humiliation, or revenge; but for some reason he didn’t believe that she was capable.

She had out her smallest cauldron and was pouring small amounts of liquid into it. She stirred it a few times and leant over it to breathe it in.

“Okay, this is quite a rough concoction but it should do the trick. Take off your jackets, its warm in here and they need to dry.” She looked up at him but he remained still.

She stood up and walked over to him before gripping his coat and gently pulling it off, she did the same with his sodden jumper, carefully pulling it over his head and trying to avoid his painful hands. He was left in a thin long sleeved shirt which was also slightly damp.

“You can take that off if you like.”

“No, it’s fine.” He said, his hand brushing over the underside of his arm.

She looked at him questioningly before heading back to the potion. He didn’t want her to see it. He didn’t want her to have any reminder of who he was; who he is. Even with help to remove it, his Dark Mark was still visible on his pale skin; a slithering branded reminder of the life he tried so longingly to forget.

“Draco?” his head whipped around to see her looking at him expectantly.

“I told you not to call me that.”

“It is your name and so I will address you by that name. What else would you have me call you?”

He thought about it, what would he have her call him? He didn’t know. He was just going to have to get used to her saying the name he hated. Not because it was a horrible name, but because the context of that name was never good in his experience.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Good, now put your hands in here.” She handed him the cauldron and he looked back up at her. “Do it! You don’t want your hands to be bloodied and full of splinters do you?”

He took it from her hands reluctantly and dipped his hands into the liquid, “Argh!” he yelped as the liquid stung his wounds and he pulled his hands from the cauldron.

“That won’t help and I know it stings but it will fix you up. Do them one at a time and I’ll hold your good hand while you do the other.” She offered.

“Why?”

“As a comfort?” She said as if it were obvious.

He did as she said and grimaced while he submerged him hand into the potion. Smoke arose from the cauldron and he could see the cuts beginning to heal.

“How is it that you just so happened to have these ingredients on- Argh! On hand?” He asked.

“Well I’ve had them for a while actually, ever since last year when we were travelling. They’re good for fixing up wounds or even removing small splinters and stingers. It can remove venom from scratches too; nothing major like Basilisk venom or those of a large arachnid but smaller less potent venoms are easily treatable.” He looked at her with a sense of admiration.

She must have dedicated a hefty amount of time into studying for antidotes and healing aides, how else could she possibly know so much about such a simple yet rarely thought of brew?

She pulled his hand out to look at it. “How does that feel?”

“Good,” he mumbled and put his other hand into the cauldron.

They sat in silence as his other hand began to heal, his already cured hand locked with Hermione’s. He snuck glances at her when he thought she wasn’t looking, he even risked a smile. She was… caring for him. She was tending to his wound with thought and a gentle hand. Why would she do that? Another sense of dread filled him as he thought about her motives, determined to stay away from him, she had said. Why was she doing this?

He pulled his hands away and the cauldron fell to the floor, its contents spilling over the floorboards. Hermione jumped and he turned away from her and stood against a far wall.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, worry lines tainting her pretty face.

“What are you playing at?” he spat.

She looked taken aback, “excuse me?”

“You heard me. I saw the way you looked at me today, the way you hissed your words at me in the great hall. And why wouldn’t you? I did you wrong. Why are you helping me when I don’t deserve this! You’re the reason my hands looked the way they did! Why are you even talking to me now? If I were you I would be cursing you when your back was turned, not tending to your self-inflicted injuries! What are you playing at?”

She looked down and then back up at him, her eyes cloudy with tears. He felt a stab in his gut and wished he hadn’t made her cry.

“Fine. Do you want me to do that to you? Would you rather me act out of spite? I could do it you know, you did hurt me. Not that I have any reason to be hurt, I’m the side dish, Pansy is the main course.”

“Don’t talk about it like that!” He yelled.

“Why not? Does it offend you that I thought of it in that way?”

“Of course it does!”

“Well I am sorry that I made you out to be a pig!” With her last word the tears broke free and rolled down her cheeks.

“That isn’t the problem!”

“Well what is it?!”

“You’re not a side dish!”

She looked taken aback, uncertain. She looked as though she didn’t understand.

“You… what?” she spluttered.

“Don’t talk about yourself like that. Pansy is nothing, just a way for me to turn away from everything, including you. Why did you have to do it?”

“What have I done?”

“Why did you have to touch me the way you did? Why couldn’t you be the same as the others? You had to touch me with your small, sensitive hands. Why couldn’t you just leave yourself at a distance where I didn’t have to think about you?”

“I want you to think about me.” She said in a voice so angelic it threatened to tear him apart.

“I can't!” He choked out the words and felt tears stinging behind his eyes. “Don’t you understand that someone like me can't think about someone like you? Not like this!”

“Says who?” She took a few steps towards him and looked into his eyes.

“Says this!” He pulled up his sleeve to reveal his faded Dark Mark.

He waited for her to recoil in disgust, or yell at him, but she took another step towards him and took his hand. She leant over and kissed him in the spot where his mark was etched in his skin. He tried to pull his arm out of her reach but she used his strength to launch herself into his arms. Her face was inches from his; she looked deeply into his eyes.

“I’m no fool, and I’m not blind. That thing doesn’t define you and it certainly doesn’t deter me. If you want to use it as an excuse then go ahead but you don’t fool me. I won’t hurt you, Draco.” He couldn’t force himself to break her gaze; instead he allowed the tears to fall from his eyes.

She caught them with her fingers and wiped them off his face. His body crumpled at her sweet touch. He hated what he had done to her. He saw the hurt in her eyes when she spoke about Pansy and wished he could forget it. He knew that the image of her pain would be something he could never forget, and he wouldn’t let himself forget it.

He sat on his knees and sobbed into her chest as her arms engulfed him. Her hands gently stroked his hair and held him tight to her body. When was the last time he had allowed anyone to see him like this? He certainly never let anyone get this close to him when he did show this kind of emotion, but the thought of her letting him go now was far too painful and he freed his arms so that they were able to wrap around her.

She hushed him like one would a child when they were upset. She kissed the top of his head and whispered to him.

“Don’t hold back, let it out… I’m not going anywhere Draco… I won’t let you go Draco… Draco…” His name echoed in his ears, and for the first time in a long time he found himself holding on to the hope that she would say it again.

Hermione sat cradling Draco in her arms for what seemed like hours. This was just as much a comfort to her as it was to him. He does feel something, I’m not just second best to him, she thought. He had stopped sobbing but still she whispered to him. She felt as though it was soothing for him.

“Come with me, I’m not going anywhere.” She slowly stood up and took him by the hand.

She led him to her bed and he sat down. She kicked off her shoes and he did the same.

“Those jeans are still wet; take them off before they soak through the sheets.”

He did as she said and she turned around to pull off her layers of clothing. She could almost feel his eyes burning her skin and she stood in her singlet and jeans. She took a shaky breath as she began to unbutton her jeans. Her hands trembled and she pulled them over her hips and down her smooth legs until she stepped out of them, trying not to fall and look as clumsy as she usually does. Finally she was standing with her back to him in her white singlet and black panties, almost too nervous to turn around.

When she plucked up the courage to turn, she saw that he was sitting there in red boxer shorts and his long white shirt. His eyes grazed over her body and she felt her cheeks flush; no one had ever looked at her in that way before.

 She sat next to him and reached over to his shirt and gave it a small upwards tug. He lifted his arms and let her strip it from his body. She tossed it to the floor. As she allowed herself to take extended looks at his body she felt hers throbbing with the thrill of it all.

Leaning over she planted her lips on his and he put a hand to her face with a gentleness she knew he was adept in showing. Their lips moved in synchronism and their tongues danced together. She pulled his body into hers and laid her hands flat against the toned muscle in his back. They lay back in her bed and wrapped their legs together as they continued to kiss each other with unmatched emotion.

Hermione pulled back from their kiss and looked into his eyes, which had become the most delightful of blues, still holding him close.

“I don’t think you’ll be getting rid of me too easily.” She whispered.

His eyes softened. “I don’t plan on it.”

She pulled his head down so that it was resting on her chest and took one of his hands in hers as they began to drift to sleep in one another’s arms. The last thing Hermione remembered seeing before she fell asleep was the well-worn leather bracelet hanging on Draco’s wrist.