Hermione resisted the urge to look at Malfoy as he ate his food. He had stubbornly insisted that he wouldn't eat in bed, so Hermione had to help him walk to the kitchen table. She had already finished her salad a while ago, so she patiently waited for him to finish. Once he was done, Hermione took his plate to prevent him from exerting more strain on his body. She felt Malfoy looking at her intently as she washed the plate and placed it on the drying stand.

"Now," Hermione sat back down and placed her wand beside her on the table to emphasize her point, "if you had any plans of obliviating me so that you can run away, I suggest you forget about it now. I want a reasonable explanation to everything."

"Wouldn't be the first time," Malfoy said scornfully. When he showed no signs of speaking further, Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes.

"I have Veritaserum, and a permit to use it," Hermione said coldly, her voice hinting at impatience "and I will use it if you don't start talking."

"Give me a break, Granger," Malfoy drawled. Hermione crossed her arms and waited. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"They named me Undesirable Number One for three months after I disappeared," Malfoy fixed his gaze at a spot on the table. Hermione remembered those three months very well. Everyone was looking for Draco Malfoy, the Malfoy heir and ex Death Eater. It had been a buzz of activity. 

"Why did you disappear?" Hermione asked curiously.

"It wasn't me who did that," Malfoy sounded suddenly earnest, "I didn't attack Gringotts. I don't know who did that, but obviously it's someone who doesn't necessarily like me."

"You're saying," Hermione was still a little skeptical about the whole idea, "someone impersonated you and attacked-"

"That's exactly what I said, now stop interrupting me."

"Sorry."

"It was two weeks before my trial," Malfoy continues after giving her a glare that effectively silenced her, "I had no choice but to run. They were searching everywhere for me, they'd reserved a cell in Azkaban with my name on it. So when the notice arrived that they would search the manor, I ran."

"You left your mother alone," Hermione interjected again.

"I'm well aware of that," Malfoy glared at her again, "it wasn't my choice to do so, I had to do it to protect her. I didn't want her to get pulled into some kind of mess again. She's had to handle enough messes already, including myself and my father.

"I spent two years moving from place to place. I stole a wand because if I used mine the Ministry would be able to track me. Whenever I would hear people talking about my supposed presence, I'd leave and move to somewhere else. I changed my appearance every few weeks to avoid suspicion.

"Then I decided I'd come back to London, be in the midst of the happenings. That way I can take care of my mother if need be. So I came back here, rented this apartment. I don't work, but I have enough money to go without work for another year. That oaf of a woman downstairs-"

"Don't call her that," Hermione snapped at him.

"Whatever," Malfoy shrugged her warning off, "she didn't mention I would have a roommate. So it was a surprise for me when I found one bedroom already occupied. And who had to be my roommate but you, Hermione Granger, Potter's best friend and Gryffindor Princess?"

He spat out the last few words as though they were some kind of terrible slang. Hermione remained silent and didn't voice her hurt. She didn't know how he must be feeling, but she did know that he wasn't particularly in a peachy mood. Silence reigned for the better part of the next three minutes. Malfoy kept throwing her glances full of beseeching, earnesty, and remorse.

"Going to run off to Potter now, are you?" Malfoy said trying to sound sarcastic, but his voice betrayed a hint of his fear, "Tell him I'm here, he's an auror isn't he? Let them arrest me and kill me or do whatever. Bet you would be glad about that, wouldn't you? To see your childhood bully dragged off and killed for his crimes?"

"Do you have any idea as to who might have done that?" Hermione asked, completely ignoring his previous rant, "If we can find out who it is, we can hand them over. Whoever it is has multiple crimes under their belt, including impersonation without permission and open attack on a place of public importance."

"It makes no difference," Malfoy said bitterly, "I don't think you've noticed, but ex Death Eaters aren't exactly respected or listened to."

"Nott works in the Ministry," Hermione said in a matter of fact voice, "and I already told you about Blaise. Goyle is working in Zabini Corporations. Pansy Parkinson is a respectable reporter."

"Stop," Malfoy said through gritted teeth, "I'm not like them. In case you've forgotten, I'm the one because of whom the war started."

"So?" Hermione couldn't believe his block headedness, "Didn't you ever hear a word of me speaking? People can change, Malfoy! For the better! You've changed, why can't you see that?"

"You think that," he said, "not everyone else."

"To hell with everyone else," Hermione shook her head, "don't you see? There's someone out there trying to get you killed! You're going to continue hiding and do nothing about it? Stop being such a coward for once and-"

Hermione winced when his hands slammed into the table. He was literally shaking with fury, and she immediately regretted speaking the way she did. She had to be encouraging, not discouraging. What was wrong with her?

"I'm sorry," Hermione said in a quiet, small voice. She felt like trash dipped in a concoction of guilt.

"Look," Malfoy said, evidently trying to keep his calm so that he wouldn't lash out, "I'll leave tomorrow."

"No," Hermione said instantly, "we have to find whoever did this."

"And who's going to help us?" Malfoy threw his hands into the air exasperatedly.

"If no one will help us, we'll find the person ourselves," Hermione said determinedly. She hadn't felt this much determination since… She couldn't even remember when. 

"You don't have to," Malfoy said, although his wide, grateful eyes indicated that he was indeed happy to be offered her help.

"Yes I do," Hermione stood, "if you haven't noticed, I have a knack for doing the right thing even when everyone else wants to ignore it."

"Frankly, it's annoying," Malfoy muttered.

"Atleast I'm helping you, you ungrateful git," Hermione tutted and turned away, "stay away from windows, and keep your disguise on when we go out or someone comes. And," she hesitated. She was, after all, speaking to the man who had done nothing but scorn her for nearly eight years. But he had apologised, she had no reason to be weary about him now. Hermione swallowed, "be careful."

Malfoy said nothing as she walked to her bedroom and closed the door without glancing back. And because she didn't glance back, she didn't see Malfoy about to stand and come to her, nor did she see him swear silently when he couldn't reach her on time.

Was she doing the right thing? It sure didn't seem like it. Some would say the right thing would be to turn to the Ministry, and let them know that one of their wanted wizards was here. They'd come and take him away, and Hermione would return to living a normal life. But however logical the idea seemed, she couldn't make peace with it. If she contacted the Ministry, how big were the chances that they would believe her if she told them that she was not involved in any of Malfoy's doings? They wouldn't believe her. No matter which of her titles she threw in their faces, or who she called on for help, nobody would listen to her. Besides, she didn't want Malfoy to be punished for a crime that wasn't his. 

So, Hermione agreed, what she was doing was the most logical, and selfish, thing to do. For now. 

"Hermione?"

Her heart skipped a beat.

Harry.

"Hermione are you in there?"

She took several shaky breaths. Had Harry found Malfoy? What if he had? They'd both be arrested. And, Hermione's head spun at the realisation, there was blood on the living room carpet from when she had healed Malfoy. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why would she forget to clean that up? She made a mental note to set a charm that would warn her of any visitors to the apartment.

"Are you alright?" 

She could cry. But if she wouldn't answer, it would be more suspicious than if she would. So she wrenched open the door.

"Harry, please let me exp-"

She was prevented from speaking further when he wrapped her in a hug. 

"I'm so sorry," he said into her shoulder. She was too dumbstruck to hug him back or say anything, so he spoke on, "I should have believed you, it was wrong of me to suspect you. I trust you with my life. I swear."

Hermione felt a knot in her throat. He trusted her. And she was going to lie to him and Ginny, and everyone else she knew, to help Malfoy. Draco Malfoy, who had never cast a polite word her way. What was wrong with her?

"Hermione?" Harry released her and held her shoulders, "Please forgive me?"

The blood on the carpet was gone. Malfoy's door was closed. The shower door was closed as well, devoid of any signs of blood or struggle. Malfoy.

"'Mione?" Harry looked concerned.

"Yes," Hermione said lamely, "of course I forgive you."

"Thank you," he grinned at her and gave her another hug.

If he hugged her again, she'd cry. She felt like the most disloyal, pathetic person on the entire planet.

"Have you received McGonnagal's letter?" Harry sounded like an excited child who had just been gifted an entire box of licorice wands, "you're going aren't you?"

Hermione nodded.

"That's great," Harry said, grinning even wider, "Ginny's been talking about it since forever, honestly it's a bit overbearing. She got in with the Harpies, did you know that? And-"

"You should go," she said suddenly, "It's late, Ginny will get worried. Congratulate her from my side. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Alright," Harry said, unsuspecting, ecstatic due to the fact that he had gotten his best friend back, "see you, take care of yourself. Tell me if that bloke does anything to hurt you. I know you're amazing at hexes, but I'd like to throw one at him myself as well."

Hermione nodded and smiled thinly. After what seemed like forever, Harry disapparated. Hermione shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. 

"Malfoy?" her voice came out a near whisper. The only response she received was silence. 

She went into panic mode.

What if he had hurt himself again? Maybe his healed cuts had reopened and he had passed out due to its combined effect with the blood replenishing potion. Maybe he had left. Good, she thought defiantly to herself, if he's gone I'm rid of the mess.

But if she was so glad to realise he was gone, why was one corner of her mind making her feel like she had been betrayed? 

"Is he gone?"

Hermione felt like crying again. This time, with relief. Now she realised that her mind had learnt to associate safety and comfort with Malfoy. As Carson Bones, of course. He was a constant thing she saw everyday, before work and after, they spent time together and they were friends, he had pulled her out of a panic attack nearly twice now. Hermione gulped. 

"Granger?" Malfoy emerged from his bedroom, "Alright, Potter's gone."

"Yes." Hermione said stupidly. 

Malfoy furrowed his brows at her rigid stance, and surveyed her for any signs of an impending attack.

"Granger, are you-" he stopped himself. It wasn't his place to show her concern. Maybe it had been Carson's, but not his. He was the ex Death Eater, the enemy, the boy who had always bullied her. Why should he comfort her?

"Get some sleep." Malfoy mumbled and went back into his room. Hermione was left standing alone in the living room, her will to ask him to stay not strong enough to overcome her insecurities.