Disclaimer: I only own AU and OCs, the rest are JKR's babies. My niece had introduced me to Dramione, I still can't stop thanking her. I kept this fic a secret, never told her I wrote one. Well, this was actually among a handful of the first Dramiones I ever wrote in my life, I thought I had lost it, but they say, old emails never die!

This happens something after both Malfoy and Granger return to Hogwarts as 8th years and Snape is alive. Couldn't squeeze in Harry or Ron.. (au).

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Nightmares of Bellatrix had kept her awake for days now. The first week was over and Hermione Granger had barely slept. She had run from pillar to post, keeping herself occupied. From classrooms to the library, from the Great Hall to the library, from the Grounds to the library. She had come back time and again to the library to find refuge. And all the while she found his eyes watching her. Draco Malfoy, that bully, that bane of her existence, knew everything! Dispassionate and cold. He would just stare at her with his smokey blue eyes and her world would tilt and spin mercilessly.

As soon as the welcoming feast at the Great Hall was over, they both were asked to join the Headmaster and the Deputy Headmistress that the Gargoyle office. Exasperated Granger had marched on with Malfoy trailing behind. He never said a word, he never made a single sound. And most shockingly, he was not wearing his head boy's badge. When they had entered, he had sat down on an offered chair, after she had sat down. But before Headmaster Snape or Headmistress McGonagall had uttered a single word, the blonde boy had quietly placed the badge over the ancient desk and pushed it towards the older man with a soft nudge of his index finger. Hermione had watched him lean back, and turn his eyes to the burning fireplace.

No one could say anything substantial for a while. Until Snape had stood up and pulled the young man by his collar, pocketed the badge, and dragged him to his personal chambers, leaving both McGonagall and Granger alone. The Gryffindor head had shushed her brightest pupil," I know this is going to be tough for you, but Mr. Malfoy did earn that badge. And we have given it to him because we are concerned for him. Miss Granger, Hermione, I would be relieved if you both share the Head's quarters."

When Malfoy and Snape had remerged, she noticed his hair tousled and he was wearing the Head's badge on his Slytherin tie. Throughout the following week, they had done several things in quiet acceptance. She had spoken to the perfects and he had sat beside her staring at each one of them. She had drawn patrolling schedules and he had just agreed to everything with a nod. She had walked through the corridors at night and he had joined her like her own shadow. Once in their Head's dorm, they had done their individual homework in utter silence.

His blank expressions, his mute disposition had made her edgy. She would keep throwing discreet glances at him in the classes they shared but Malfoy said nothing, never ever looked anywhere around. His eyes would either look at the lecturing professors or scan his notes and his books. Other students too have grown weary of the blonde Head boy. Some of the feisty Gryffindors had thrown some nasty comments at him at the very start day, but they had shuddered in fright by the way he had looked at them. The rumour mill buzzed around the corridor "the Malfoy spawn was the new walking dead".

It was the fifth day, she had been lying flat on top of her Gryffindor covers battling away sleep. Every night she would place her personal locking spells on her door, and a powerful silencing spell just to be extra cautious. They had to share a bathroom, but Malfoy never hogged it unnecessarily. In fact, she often wondered if he used it at all. But not tonight. Not tonight when she was losing it. Leaping out of the bed, she had grabbed her arithmancy book and had dashed out of her room.

No sooner had she stepped out, she fell face forward after her foot had lodged into something solid. She might have bruised herself if his arms had not caught her midway. Turning abruptly, wand in hand, she realised her survivor was Malfoy himself. His pale hand was holding onto her waist and she watched how slowly he brought up his other hand till just the pad of a single pale finger rested on her cheek. Trailing upwards, it touched the corner of one of her wide eyes. She watched his eyes watch the progress of his finger in rapt attention. His took his finger off her skin but studied it right in front of her own eyes. Flicking his gaze, once on the teardrop settled precariously over the pad of his finger, then to her baffled eyes, then back to her, he whispered, "I am sorry. I am sorry for each of them, for every single one that you ever cried because on me."

Hermione's fingers had by themselves had gripped on his upper arm sleeves. They began to tremble now, as she sucked in deeply. Malfoy's action that made her forget to do the most natural thing- breath. Before she could make her mind to say something meaningful and substantial to this miserable statue cut out of marble, the man had dropped to his knees, his arm had slid down her frame, he had pulled her close until his head rested right over the dip of her stomach. He sobbed hard. His whole-body trembling, many her sway on her feet. Her fingers had let go of his sleeves and now they were dangling close to his unkempt hair.

His plea was heart wrenching. Begging, grappling at her feet at the death of the night, Draco Malfoy, succumbing under the weight of his own conscience had waited for nights together to beg for her forgiveness. Had it been before the war, Hermione might have managed to shove him off. Had it been during many of their verbal spats, she would have hexed him thinking this was an act. But she could never forget his panic-stricken eyes, that had kept on staring back at her while Bellatrix continued torturing her on his grand living room floor. Bringing her hands over his trembling head, she started running her fingers through his hair. His arms had joined together winding themselves around her thin waist. She realised at the threshold of her open door; they both were crying together. She couldn't think of her own fear, she couldn't think of what to say, she couldn't even imagine a suitable word to define this moment. It was a blank space filled with unspoken emotions. A blankness that had finally spilt out of this miserable person tangled around her person and had filled up every atom around her, within her reducing her to nothing else but absolute blank.

Hermione had started feeling her legs go numb though her waist and her stomach grew warmer as Malfoy continued to sob miserably. She kept on stroking his hair, giving him some form of semblance. She felt her t-shirt grow wet, soaking in his tears, snort, and saliva. Yet, she continued standing still at the threshold of her room, wondering what on earth made this happen in the first place.

When his sobs subsided into hiccups, he squeezed his arms around her and rubbed his face over her already wet nightclothes. Daring not to look up at her, he mumbled against her skin, "I too can't see." Shifting back a bit, Hermione flopped down on the floor. She would have hurt her knees if Draco hadn't caught her in time and drew her closer. This was surreal. But everything about this night had been extraordinary. As she kept staring back at him, she realized, she did not like how pale and downtrodden he looked at this moment. She was familiar with his scowl and his upturned nose, his smirk, and his arched eyebrow. Draco Malfoy did not look like him when he cried his heart out.

Without even thinking twice, she had brought her palm up and busied herself in wiping off his tear strain cheek. Setting his hair back in place, she gave him a small smile," There, you look much much better." Draco, on the other hand, sat as still as a forgotten statue in a graveyard. He couldn't even come close to thinking about her. Her touch had made him burn up. He swallowed hard, tracing her eyebrows, her nose, the tiny bow in between her nose tip, and her upper lip. Her eyes looked hollow. Without the glamour spell in place, her dark circles grew prominent, giving her a grotesque look. Bringing his palm up he had gingerly placed it on her cheek, rubbing his thumb below her eye. Granger had gasped at how cold his palm felt against her warm skin.

Wetting his lips, he muttered," Even I can't sleep. You keep me awake every night." She had immediately tried to apologize, but his index finger of his other hand had hushed her up. "Don't apologize, when I am too be blamed for everything. I shouldn't have stood there, watching you getting tortured by that vile witch! My ears keep ringing. Your screams, your plea, your stubborn "no" and her high pitch laughter. I have imagined in every possible way to change every bit of that fateful night. If I could whisk you away, If it was me instead of Dobby, I would happily get stabbed, if it meant anything at all. My own father dug my grave with his own hands, and I couldn't even see past his baseless doctrines. Granger, why did you three let me die in the room of requirement?"

Hermione had sucked in sharply, as his finger started stroking her lips, and he kept on speaking to her in a hushed tone," I know you all couldn't. I think I owe Potter a life debt. But I owe you more than my life. I owe you, my soul. You have kept on making me question everything." Leaning forward, he had rested his forehead over hers. She couldn't stop herself from crying fresh tears, as his words resonated through the night air, "If I can beg for forgiveness every remaining second of my miserable life, I will." Inhaling deeply he began chanting softly, "I am sorry, I am Sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry…"

She had cupped his cheek in her palms, bringing his face up, she shook her head vehemently, incapable of saying it aloud. As he kept on chanting, she tried to muffle his words, by covering his mouth with her hand. But his lips kept on moving against her wet palm. Next, she had hugged him tight, letting her body quake, sobbing hard over his shoulders. But Malfoy's apologizes had found new nests on her thick bushing mane. Pushing him back a bit, she peered at his face again, but the young man looked like a ghost. She couldn't live with the knowledge that he would just waste himself away apologizing in front of her. She knew, even if she said, "It's okay.", it was not enough for the Slytherin.

She tried saying," Stop it. That enough. Malfoy, um, Draco, I forgive you."

But he just shook his head slightly and went on chanting. Biting her lower lip and the inside of her cheek, she swiftly brought her hand up and slapped him hard. When he turned his awestruck eyes back to her, she crumbled into a million pieces. Grabbing his face once again, without thinking much again, she allowed her emotions to override her other senses. She peppered his face with small kisses. Her lips touched his forehead, his eyebrows, his nose, his cheek, time and again, till they halted over his parted lips. He had forgotten how to breathe the moment her angelic lips had pressed themselves on his bare skin, like petals trapped within the pages of a poetry book. Her eyes had shot back to meet his wide ones. He had started trembling slightly. She decided for both of them. Closing her eyes, letting her tears roll over her cheek once again, she leaned forward, erasing the distance between their lips, between their social standing, between light and dark, between trivial house divisions, till her lips touched his.

He told his mind, Granger was permitted to do everything with him. He watched with hooded eyes, the hazy strands of her hair, dancing right next to his eyelashes, as her lips took the liberty to nip, lick and wet his paler ones. She pulled back a little. Looked back at him, she asked," Why don't you kiss me, back...Oh! I see! I, I am sorry," pushing off, she made a hasty effort of getting up, but he had pulled her back on his person. Holding her head firmly, pressing her body against him, he kissed her with all the passion, she had helped him to nurture in the last couple of minutes. As his lips mauled her softer one, prying them open, he didn't even wait for her permission, as he wedged his tongue between her jaws and snaked it around her tongue. He had to taste her as if she was his elixir of life. When he got bored with her mouth, he tore down her face sucking every expanse of her skin, till she mewled and moaned for more. Stopping over her pulse point at the juncture of her jaw and neck, he took deep breathes to calm his racing heart.

The witch could be his death. Because this was Granger. Because she alone in the whole world had rocked his bearings, enslaved him with every particle of her being. She had asked something from him, and Draco Malfoy could no longer deny her anything in this life and after. "Draco, would you sleep next to me?"