AN: Damn Dani, back at it again with another chapter. Sorry, I couldn't resist. Anyway, a huge thanks to everyone who has reviewed and favorited and followed this story, and a giant thanks to Maripaz 6 for betaing this chapter for me. Y'all are all incredible=).

Disclaimer: I STILL don't own Harry Potter. Damn shame, too.

Chapter 7

At first glance, the ceiling in Draco's bedroom appeared to be white, but after staring at it for the past five hours, he was realizing that it was, in reality, a light beige. What would possess someone to paint a ceiling beige he had no clue - maybe they had run out of white paint and thought that no one would notice the slightly odd color? Except... they lived in a world of magic - whoever painted this room could simply charm the paint whatever color they wanted. Maybe Hagrid had painted the room. He didn't have a wand to charm anything with - it had been snapped years ago, much like Draco's would probably be if anyone ever found out…

He rolled over in bed, cursing. He was exhausted. It was after three in the morning, and his eyes had yet to close. His mind had been racing, the incident with Amanda Creevey seeming to be stuck on replay. He couldn't figure it out - he had been sure that no one knew that spell. At least, no one alive. But apparently he had been wrong. Someone knew the spell, and wanted Draco to know that they knew it. That was the only explanation. Someone was after him. Amanda had been a message to him.

It caught him off guard, to say the least. Sure, he had expected cold shoulders and maybe some threats, insults, and hexes from the wizards and witches at Hogwarts - the ones who had fought for the Light during the War, but he had thought that all the Death Eaters had been apprehended, or at least that they would lay low for a while. He had foolishly, naively thought that he was safe. He scoffed now, cursing his own blindness. He had never been safe in his life, and now just because his father and the Dark Lord were gone, he had expected that to change? Idiot.

So once again, he would spend the term looking over his shoulder, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for this odd peace to shatter around him. He was a Malfoy - one who had betrayed everything that name once stood for, and now he was going to pay.

And then there was Granger.

What in Merlin's name had possessed him to tell her about that stupid parchment? He had intended to take that particular secret to his grave. After overhearing his father discussing the basilisk during the summer before his second year, his goddamn conscience had refused to let people be killed when he could prevent it, even if those people were only Mudbloods. He'd torn a page out of a book on basilisks, slipping it into her book bag once things at school started getting too bad, and with it she had helped save the school. As retaliation to his own weakness, he had begun lashing out at her, purposely making her feel small, insignificant, inferior, hated, effectively covering his tracks. No one would ever know about his momentary lack of judgment, of weakness; he had ensured that.

But then he had opened his mouth, effectively spilling one of the biggest secrets he'd ever kept, and for what? Because he didn't care for the opinion she had formed of him? How ridiculous was that? He had spent the past seven years courting her bad opinion of him, and now that it had come calling, he didn't have the guts to deal with it. He had watched her being tortured in front of him and done nothing to stop it - Merlin's Beard of course she hated him.

Blood.

She was writhing, screaming under Bellatrix's wand and blade. Her wild hair was fanned out around her head, damp from her sweat. His insane aunt was cackling as she carved, one painstaking letter at a time. From this angle, Draco couldn't see what she was engraving into the girl's arm, but he was willing to bet his life that it was a certain word beginning with the letter 'M'.

Granger let out another bloodcurdling scream, whipping her head back and forth desperately as she struggled to get away from the witch on top of her. As she struggled, her eyes found Draco, and his mouth went dry. Her eyes were completely unguarded in that moment, shining with fear, pain, and desperation. They were silently begging him to help her, yet utterly hopeless, knowing that he wouldn't.

He clenched his fists at his sides, willing himself to stay put. Why did it even matter? She was only a Mud...but it was red. So red. Pouring out of her, the same color as his own. He had always thought that the Mudbloods literally bled mud; that they were literally and physically inferior to Purebloods, who bled scarlet. But the blood pooling around her on the floor looked no different than the liquid that had come out of Draco when he cut himself shaving or scraped his knee as a child.

She screamed again, and he had to fight to keep himself from visibly flinching. She may be a know-it-all, but she didn't deserve Bella. No one deserved Bella. The Dark Lord claimed that he sought justice, but watching his classmate writhing and bleeding on the floor, Draco realized that this was anything but just. Yet if he tried to stop it, they would both die.

She was still staring at him, and now anger at him mixed with the myriad of emotions already present in her eyes. She hated him, and with good reason. Well, little did she know that unlike his homicidal relatives, Draco was not evil. He may not be able to stop his aunt from torturing another innocent, but there was something he could do. He took a deep breath, wordlessly cast the Legilimens spell and slipped into her mind.

Her screaming increased as he began sorting through her memories. He knew that images were flashing through her own mind as quickly as he was seeing them, and she tried unsuccessfully to fight the intrusion. He couldn't remove her body from the agony she was enduring, but he could remove her mind from it, or at least remind her why she had to keep enduring. He could keep her sane.

The first memories he encountered were of a tent, a necklace, Gringotts, dirt, pain - no, he pushed past those. He needed to find a memory for her to watch, one that would give her strength to hold on to her sanity through the pain of the blade and the Cruciatus Curse. He began to search frantically as Bella's blade dug deeper, increasing the volume of Granger's screams. Memory after memory flashed before Draco's eyes, none of them really seeming right.

Finally, he landed on a memory that, while disgusting to Draco, seemed likely to reach her. She, Potter, and the Weasley clan were gathered around a table exchanging presents. Arthur was wrapped in bandages, so Draco assumed that this had been the previous Christmas, following Nagini's attack on the man. They were laughing, talking, teasing - everything a normal family does. Draco had never gotten to know Granger well, but this seemed to be the type of scene she would respond to. She seemed the type to fight for her family.

As he let the memory play, he could feel Granger calming, her attempts to push him out of her mind ceasing. Her mind was calming as her body continued to scream. Draco silently prayed that anyone watching would attribute his closed eyes to cowardice and not realize that he was inside the girl's mind. He risked opening his eyes, still using all of his focus to keep the memory firmly in the forefront of Granger's mind.

But when he opened his eyes, his father was staring at him, accusing. Draco gulped as he Lucius slowly crossed the room to where Draco and his mother stood, firmly gripping his son's shoulder. The flash of pain from his father's grip broke Draco's concentration, and the memory faded from Granger's mind as he slipped out of it and back into reality. Lucius looked from Draco to the girl on the floor, raising an eyebrow, but Granger gave no sign of change as she continued screaming. Lucius watched her for a moment longer before turning to his son.

"Eyes open, Draco," he muttered harshly. "Have we not been through enough without you branding yourself as a coward for a second time?" He glared into Draco's eyes, and Draco briefly realized that he looked his father in the eye now, not up to him - he was no longer a little boy cowering in front of the man who had raised him. That brief realization gave him the courage to straighten his spine and glare back, unblinking. Lucius scowled before turning back to watch his sister-in-law.

Draco's fists were clenched so tightly that he was certain he would have little half-moon cuts in his palms. Cuts that would bleed the same color as the letters in Granger's skin. But his father was suspicious and would jump on him if he slipped back into her mind now - she was on her own. He grit his teeth and forces himself to watch. Her screams were growing more and more hoarse, her throat was probably going raw.

As he stared resolutely forward, he felt his mother slip up behind him. On the pretense of straightening his robe, she leaned in close and whispered, "It was long enough, Draco. She remembers what she is fighting for now." Then she pulled away, directing her eyes back to the horrible scene in front of them.

Draco stood frozen for a moment. His mother knew what he had just done, and had not reprimanded him, but rather encouraged him. He straightened his shoulders. He only hoped she was right…

He threw an arm over his eyes, blocking out the memory that had plagued him for months now. "It was all I could do," he muttered. "It was all I could fucking do."

A real scream shot through the darkness, and he sat bolt upright in bed. He knew that scream - it filled his nightmares every night. But what was she screaming about? Oh. He rolled his eyes, throwing back his blankets. He really hadn't wanted to deal with this tonight, or any night for that matter.

He banged open the door to his room, walking quickly across the common room to pound on Granger's closed door. There was no response other than a low moan which escalated into another blood-curdling scream. He jiggled the doorknob only to find it locked. Of course. Cursing, Draco muttered a quick Alohomora before throwing open her door and entering. Thank Merlin that McGonagall had banned the use of advanced wards within the school, thus ensuring access to any student's room in case of emergency. If not for that rule, he was sure that Granger's room would be practically impenetrable.

She was sprawled in the middle of the large bed, sheets and blankets tangled around her in a manner that had to be uncomfortable. Her hair was fanned around her just as it had been that night, and the roots were once again soaked with sweat. She was jerking in her sleep, and her face was twisted in mental anguish. He stood frozen for a moment, flashing back to that horrible memory until her next scream jerked him back to reality.

"Granger," he crossed the room, bending down and shaking her shoulder gently. "Granger, wake up." She didn't respond, only thrashed more violently. "Granger," he said with more force, grasping both shoulders now and shaking harder. "You need to wake up now."

She gasped, sitting straight up in bed, and as he was bent over her to try and wake her up, she rammed her forehead into his at full speed.

"OUCH!" he yelped, jumping backward and sitting on the edge of the bed, glaring at her as he rubbed his forehead.

She didn't even respond to the impact, not even seeming to notice his presence as her hand flew to her left forearm, pulling it close to her eyes so she could see the angry red scar in the dimness. Tears were flowing freely down her face as she rubbed frantically at the raised lines as if she was trying to rub them off. The curse on the blade Bellatrix had used ensured that the scars remain fresh, and Draco feared that the force of her rubbing would break them open. Of their own accord, his hands reached out, gripping her wrists with a bit more force than necessary and pinning them lightly to the bed next to her.

Her face filled with panic, and she began struggling blindly, not even looking up to ascertain who was restraining her.

"Granger." His voice was steady, but loud enough to make sure she heard him through her panic. "Granger, it was a dream. It's over. You're alright."

Her head shot up, brown curls falling across her face as her eyes shot to his. She stilled and her breathing began to slow as she came out of her trance her tears slowed to a slow trickle. "M-Malfoy?" she cleared her throat, which was hoarse from screaming.

He sighed, relieved that she seemed to be coming back to herself. "The one and only," he said with a smirk.

She tugged on her wrists, and he released them, letting her fold her arms across her chest. He noticed for the first time that she was wearing a very, very thin nightshirt. Gulping, he returned his eyes to her face. Now was not the time to ogle the Head Girl. Not that he was interested in ogling her ever. He was merely male.

"Why are you in my room?" she asked quietly, and despite her best efforts he heard the fear in her voice. He mentally cursed; she was afraid of him. Not that he could really blame her - over the years he'd given her many more reasons to fear him than trust him.

He sighed. "You were having a nightmare. I heard you screaming." He rolled his eyes. "Really Granger, if you're going to be having nightmares it's only polite to cast a silencing charm on your room. I was sleeping." He let an edge creep into his voice, showing his annoyance at playing comforter.

Her eyebrows slammed down, and she wrapped her arms around herself tighter, like she was putting up armor. "Well I apologize for the inconvenience, Malfoy. I'm fine now, not that you care. You can leave." She drew herself up, sticking out her chin and glaring at him.

He laughed incredulously. "You seem surprised by that," he sneered, remembering what he had told her earlier in the evening. Any vulnerability that had been brought on by the combination of her nightmare and his memory vanished, and Draco was back.

She huffed, rolling her eyes. "Of course I'm not. I did just relive one of the worst moments of my life, which you witnessed and did nothing to stop. Of course I don't think you care," she said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, which of course it was. Still, it irked him that she had thought it even remotely possible that he could have stepped in that night.

He abruptly stood, shoving his hands into the pockets of his silk pajama trousers. "And what do you think would have happened if I had done something Granger? That they would have let us waltz out of there unharmed?" His voice was hard and cold. She was clearly oblivious to his use of Legilimency to help her in the only way he could, and though he was relieved that she didn't know of his involvement, it made him angry for a reason he couldn't identify. "No. They would have killed us both before Potter and Weasley could get out of the dungeons. Besides, you didn't need my help. You got out just fine." He walked to the door, but stopped before leaving. "If you honestly think that my interfering would have done more good than harm, you must not be as bright as they say."

He left before she could respond.

"He was so clearly holding back information, and the Headmistress just let him!" Hermione fumed over breakfast the next morning. "She just told us to sleep! It was so obvious - you know that shifty-eye thing he's always done? He's hiding something, I just don't know what and it's killing me!"

Ginny grinned at her friend from across the Gryffindor table. "You do realize it's not your pancakes' fault that Draco's a prat, right?" She nodded towards the said food, which Hermione had been frantically stabbing with her fork.

"Pardon?" Hermione glanced down, momentarily confused. "Oh, right. But really Gin," she laid down her fork and ran a hand through her hair, making it even wilder than it had been, "this is not ok. Amanda could have died last night. He ought to tell us everything he knows as insurance against it happening again. We all know he was Death Eater and he most likely did some things he isn't proud of, so what does he have to hide?"

Ginny merely shrugged before stabbing another sausage.

"How is this not bothering you?" Her voice was verging on frantic.

"Ok, first off, calm down. You're at a fifteen, and I need you at like a three." Ginny calmly took a bite of sausage while Hermione took a deep breath and got a grip. "Ok, good." Ginny nodded in approval at her friend. "As to why I'm not upset about Malfoy hiding things: he's a Slytherin and a Malfoy - it's what they do. He's always been like this, and we sure as hell aren't going to change it now. If I were you, I'd just be glad he had the wits to save her last night when you froze up. Pass the syrup?"

Hermione was still staring at the back of Malfoy's head across the room as she absently passed the syrup to the younger witch. "Gin, he was the person who put that book page in my bookbag in second year."

Ginny froze. "What?" Ginny was the only person Hermione had told about the page appearing in her bag one morning. It was a touchy subject for the redhead, who still felt guilty over the entire incident with the Chamber of Secrets.

Hermione nodded blearily, laying her head down on the table. "He told me so last night, and thinking about it - it makes sense, Gin. Somehow, in a twisted, messed up way, it makes sense. I can't explain it, but some of the things he said and did, I honestly think I believe him. I'm so confused." She groaned, burying her face in the crook of her elbow.

"Damn," was all Ginny said. "But that was second year - the year he first called you that nasty name. He was so vocal about supporting Slytherin's Heir. That doesn't-"

"I know!" Hermione flung her head up, sending curls flying in all directions. "It doesn't make sense! He was awful to me, to all Muggleborns that year, but for all intents and purposes he saved my life."

"Wow," Ginny trailed off, turning around to look at the Slytherin table where the object of their discussion sat with his Housemates. He was staring at his plate, sullenly pushing food around his plate, apparently lost in thought.

"And then last night," Hermione paused, hesitant to share this part, but needing to talk about it. "I had another nightmare."

"Oh, 'Mione." Ginny reached out and covered her friend's hand with her own.

"I woke up with Malfoy in my room trying to wake me up." She waved her wand over her forehead, revealing the nasty bruise on her forehead.

"Did he do that?!" Ginny began turning red as she started to rise, undoubtedly about to go after Malfoy with a Bat Bogey hex or something equally appalling .

Hermione grabbed her wrist, pulling her back into her seat. "No, Gin, nothing like that. He was leaning over me and shaking my shoulder and I woke up and sat straight up. I'd wager he's using the same charm as I am this morning." And she replaced the concealment charm over her bruise.

Ginny cracked up. "Well, what happened?"

Hermione shrugged. "We got into a fight over what happened at the Manor."

The younger witch sucked in a breath. "Well I can imagine that got a bit...heated."

Hermione nodded, rubbing her eyes in frustration. "It did. Ugh, he's just...he's such a git!"

"Oh, I suppose we are speaking of the Head Boy?" broke in a familiar high-pitched voice.

Both girls looked up to see Luna Lovegood smiling dreamily down at them. She looked as she always did - strange. Though she was dressed in the usual Hogwarts uniform, her hair was pulled back into a bun that she had secured with her wand and decorated with what appeared to be a loudly-singing live mockingbird stuck to her head with a sticking charm.

"Who else?" Hermione grumbled, hacking at a sausage like it was a horcrux.

Luna gave a dreamy sigh as she sank down next to Ginny. "What did he do this time? Are you upset at him because he knows something about Amanda's accident?"

Hermione looked up, startled. Luna's head was cocked to the side, and the bird stuck to her head looked highly disconcerted as it dangled practically upside down, but didn't fall off. If it wasn't forbidden Dark Magic, Hermione would think that Luna used Legilimency, so often did she appear to read minds.

"Actually yes, that's exactly it." Her tone was a little harsher than she had intended, but she was pissed, and Luna's omniscience wasn't helping matters.

"I would cut Draco a bit of slack if I were you, Hermione Granger," she said in a soft voice.

"Oh you would?" Hermione raised an eyebrow at the blonde, silently daring her to continue.

"Oh, indeed," Luna continued, unaware of the hostility in Hermione's gaze. "After all, he is dealing with a lot at the moment, what with his father's imprisonment, returning to Hogwarts, clearing his reputation, and passing his NEWTs. And I'm sure dealing with his feelings for you isn't making it any easier."

Ginny choked on her pumpkin juice, turning to stare at the Ravenclaw, while Hermione froze.

"What are you on about, Luna? He hates me." Hermione's glare was a challenge as she stared at Luna, hoping she wasn't actually suggesting what she appeared to be.

Luna cocked her head, looking thoughtful. "Well of course - that's how you two have always been. The rivalry is what has kept you both coming back. But now he is feeling more than that, though he may not know it yet, and he doesn't know how to handle it."

Hermione glanced at Ginny, who merely shrugged, grinning as she looked back and forth between the overly logical Gryffindor and the intuitive Ravenclaw like she was watching a tennis match.

Luna sighed, "You're in love with him, and he's in love with you," she mused, seemingly to her mockingbird. "And it's like a goddamn tragedy, because you look at him and see the stars, and he looks at you and sees the sun." She shrugged sadly. "And you both think the other is just looking at the ground."

"I'm what?" Hermione hadn't heard anything past the words 'you're in love with him'. Her brain had kind of gone blank at that point.

"Actually," Luna continued, completely ignoring Hermione. "I think you both see the sun. Think about it - all we do is squint and glare and turn away when we look directly into the sun, but without it, life would be dark and cold and miserable. Yes," She nodded to herself, shaking the poor mockingbird around violently. "You are each other's suns." She smiled dreamily, leaning her elbow on the table and resting her chin in her hand.

"Luna?" Hermione tried again. "I don't mean to be rude, but what the hell are you talking about?"

Luna's gaze swung back around to meet hers, looking mildly surprised. "Oh, didn't you know? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything I suppose," she said with the air of someone who had accidentally spoiled a movie to someone who hasn't seen it yet.

"Luna, you must be confused." Hermione's tone was condescending, like she was explaining something to a toddler. "Malfoy and I are enemies. We hate each other, we're not in love with each other. That's ridiculous!" She barked a laugh.

Luna gazed at her shrewdly, then shrugged. "Very well, if you believe that." She got up and drifted away, calling over her shoulder "Though I would cut him some slack; his world is upside down right now."

Hermione stared after her until Ginny cleared her throat, bringing her back to the present. The redhead was staring at her with an eyebrow raised. "Anything you want to share with the class?"

Hermione just gave her head a disbelieving shake. "It's official. Luna Lovegood has officially lost it." She thought for a minute "Well, more than she had to begin with, that is."

Well what did y'all think? Please please please take thirty seconds to let me know your thoughts, whether they be good or bad, I really want feedback! Oh, for those of you who recognized Luna's little rant, credit for the bit about the sun and the stars and staring at the ground must go to a Tumblr user called lostcap. The rest, including the part about them being each other's suns is all mine =). See y'all at the next update ~ TheInvisibleShipper