A/N: Sorry for the long wait! It took forever to get this chapter all perfect--but a good chapter is worth the wait, right? And please keep reviewing; they make me write faster! I can't believe this story has already hit 40 reviews... I feel so cool (lol). Thank you for all of your reviews! Anyways, I'd like to thank my beta reader for doing such a superb job at correcting this chapter!! Oh yes, and I also made this chapter about twice as long as my usual chapters... so enjoy!

Disclaimer: Everything but the plot belongs to J.K. Rowling, that creative genius... grr.

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Hermione woke up slowly and then cried out in pain. Her head was pounding, and her entire body was sore and aching. The room she was currently in was pitch-black and cold. She tried to sit up to get a better look of where exactly she was, but found no strength in her muscles. After failing to move at all, Hermione softly called out, "Hello?" She heard someone approach the bed in light footsteps, and then a light turned on. The light was a brilliant white and she shut her eyes in pain. After about a minute, she squinted at the visitor at the end of her bed. Uneasily, she noted it was none other than Professor Dumbledore.

"Welcome back to the realm of the living, Ms. Granger." He said with a relieved smile. She nodded, her stomach twisting painfully from hunger and nervousness. "You gave us all quite a scare yesterday."

"I daresay Harry's given us far more scares than… well, whatever it was that happened; I can't quite remember." Dumbledore's smile broadened and he chuckled, his eyes closed.

"Yes, Mr. Potter has gotten himself into quite a few scrapes, hasn't he?" Hermione managed a weak laugh, but it quickly turned into a groan of pain from the movement of her stomach. Dumbledore's smile faded. "Why did you ask for help?" He asked her softly. When she didn't answer, he favored her with a concerned look. "The concern of your Head of House has been growing steadily in the past few weeks, Hermione. And with the incident from earlier, I am afraid that your current problem can no longer be ignored. Not eating--"

"…Is stupid." She concluded softly. Dumbledore nodded the usual light in his eyes gone. She squirmed uneasily under his gaze, wishing desperately for him to look away. Compelled to give him some sort of answer for her behavior, she began babbling. "I didn't mean to not eat… I was just so focused. I mean, there was just so much to do and I honestly didn't have time--"

"…To eat?" He interrupted. Hermione nodded, and Dumbledore gave a great sigh. He massaged his temples with closed eyes, looking pained. "Ms. Granger, there is always time to eat. Whether it be grabbing a piece of toast or skipping a trip to the library, there is always time to eat."

"But Professor--" Dumbledore silenced her with a wave of his hand and sighed tiredly.

"Ms. Granger, if you continue to refuse to eat, I will have to place you in the care of St. Mungo's Hospital, or entrust you in the care of a fellow student or teacher. The rest of the staff and I will be keeping a close eye on you. Should you not attend even a single meal, I will be forced to take one of these actions." She gave him a dull, unreadable look, and he stared at her thoughtfully. "It may be best to put you under the watch of your fellow Head Pupil, Mr. Malfoy." A look of horror crossed her face and he almost chuckled. 'They're more like Lily and James Potter than they know,' hethought, laughing inwardly. "Do I make myself clear?" She nodded weakly, looking sick. "I'm sure that you could do with some food, am I correct?" She gave him a small smile and he stood up wearily. "I'll send Dobby along in a few moments." He walked towards the door and turned to her once he reached it. "Remember what I have said, Ms. Granger." She nodded and he sighed sadly. "I hope that we shall never have this conversation again." Leaving it at that, he walked away quickly, his long silver hair shining in the hall-light.

"Malfoy? Take care of me?" Hermione said softly, once the headmaster had disappeared from view. "Kill me, more likely." She snorted.

"Now Granger, I couldn't possibly live with that kind of guilt on my conscience, even if it is you." Hermione jumped and turned her head sharply to the right. From the sudden usage of her muscles, she nearly blacked out with pain. Opening her eyes, she was greeted with a bright white haze that only made her dizzier. After a minute of relaxing, her vision became clearer, and she found that she was staring into the face of Draco Malfoy.

"Malfoy?" She croaked. "What are you doing here?" He was sitting in a chair next to her bed, leaning back lazily.

"Why the angry tone of voice, Granger? I should think you'd like to have visitors of higher status—it'll really help your pathetic reputation."

"And why should I want a Death Eater's son to…'help' my reputation?" She asked coldly. His eyes were like two chips of ice now, and the look he shot her chilled her to the bone.

"You leave my father out of this, Granger." The intensity of his gaze made her breath stop. "I didn't bring up your filthy family—you had no right to drag mine into this."

"Are you agreeing with me when I say that yours is filthy?" She shot back, her cheeks tinged pink. He noticed her sudden flush and smirked.

"Embarrassed of your heritage, Granger?" She glared at him.

"I would only be embarrassed if I were the product of inbreeding!" Smiling triumphantly at his slightly shocked face, she continued. "At least my parents aren't lapdogs to Satan spawn!" His smirk faded and he glared at her fiercely, his body radiating heat.

"Leave my family out of this!" He said harshly, and she was pleased to see a slight flush to his pale cheeks.

"What, do you support your currently imprisoned father and stuck-up mother?" He gritted his teeth and she could see him struggling to not hit her.

"Leave my mother out of this!" He yelled, standing up. Realizing she had hit a nerve, she shrunk back into her blankets. Hermione had never seen Malfoy so furious, nor had she ever seen his feelings completely unleashed before. Annoyed, gleeful, in pain yes, but never this angry. It was as if he was constantly staying calm for his image or something, but apparently, she had crossed the line. His tall frame blocked out much of the light in the room as he towered over her frail form. Even in the slightly eclipsed darkness, she could see how stormy-gray his eyes were—and as much as she hated to admit it, they were nice eyes. 'Well, they would be nice if they didn't belong to Draco Malfoy.' She reminded to herself. His blonde hair wasn't clean-cut and slicked back as it had been for years, but instead it grew slightly past the nape of his neck; it appeared to be slightly messy, yet every piece seemed to fall perfectly into place as though he had meant for it to be there. Malfoy was tall and lean with very pale skin—completely unblemished skin. Hermione could understand why girls liked this git for his looks (ashamed as she was to admit it), but could not understand how they dealt with his horrible personality. As it was, Hermione was cowering before the Slytherin Prince, and was terrified of what he would do next.

"Miss wanted her food?" Hermione and Draco whipped their heads away from each other and saw Dobby staring at them from the end of the bed. He was holding a platter of food, filled with eggs and sausage, bacon and toast, and even some fresh fruit. It was making Hermione's mouth water, and her stomach gave an unpleasant lurch. Nodding, she beckoned Dobby to her and he handed her the platter of food. Suddenly, Dobby seemed to notice Malfoy, and he squeaked in horror. "Young Master!" He cried and bowed low to him.

"Dobby, he's not your master anymore!" Hermione said fiercely and tried to pick him up. Unfortunately, Malfoy got their first. He picked him up and set him roughly back on his feet.

"What do you want?" He asked, still angry with Hermione. The House-Elf began shaking, and Hermione saw his large eyes fill with tears. She hit Malfoy's arm as hard as she could (which really wasn't hard at all, given her present state) and gave him a dirty look.

"Just because you're angry at me does not give you the right to pick on him!" She said indignantly. Malfoy turned his gaze back on her and she began shrinking away again. After a moment, Malfoy turned back to Dobby.

"Just go back to the kitchens where you belong, Dobby. Don't bother me again." Nodding enthusiastically, Dobby snapped his fingers and disappeared. It was several moments before Malfoy looked at Hermione, and when he did, the hurt was just barely visible in his eyes. Though hardly noticeable, it was still there, and Hermione felt extremely guilty.

"Look, Malfoy… I'm sorry that I said those awful things—I was just frustrated and tired and--" He covered her mouth with his hand to shut her up.

"I don't want or need your apologies, Granger." He said coldly. When he removed his hand, began to babble again.

"Please, I'm really sorry; I didn't mean to, I--" He silenced her with a look and began to walk away. "Why were you really here?" She called as he reached the door. Elegantly, he turned again to face her.

"Because Dumbledore said you'd be needing those." He pointed to the table by the bed and she noticed a large, thick pile of parchment. Tentatively, she pulled off the first piece of the stack and held it to the light. She gave a small gasp.

"But these are--"

"…My notes I know." He said dully. "Go on, give them a look-see." She stifled a laugh and began to read. Every minute or so, she'd look up at him, stunned.

"These are perfect Malfoy." She said softly, still reading. "I never got to finish my notes—and I missed my other classes! These are… they're wonderful." She tilted her head to the side, a small smile playing at her lips as she watched his emotionless face. "Thank you." A mix between surprise and confusion crossed his face, and then he scowled.

"They're just notes." He said, sounding annoyed. And with that, he turned and left the Hospital Wing.

Draco left the Hospital Wing as fast as his feet would carry him. Granger's words were following him, echoing in his mind. 'Death Eater's son…' 'I would only be embarrassed were I the product of inbreeding!' Anger was bubbling up inside of him, consuming all rational thought. 'Lapdogs to Satan Spawn!' The years his father had taken into training Draco to hide his emotions (or have them at all) were flying out the window, and he could almost hear Granger laughing in his head. 'You support your currently imprisoned father and your stuck up mother?' He shut his eyes quickly, panting from the run, his rage flowing through his veins like a powerful river, ready to burst through the his skin—

"Shut up!" He roared, slamming his fist to the stone castle wall. He was breathing hard and wincing, feeling a large bruise forming on his pale hand. Granger, Potter, and Weasley were laughing in his head, pointing and smirking, making fun of his family. 'So, the tables have turned!' He thought furiously. Draco's thoughts turned to his father, the reason his family was shamed. 'Damn it Lucius! Damn you!'

After Malfoy had left, Hermione turned back to his notes. The handwriting was perfectly neat—almost too neat for a boy—but cursive and flowing. The notes were long and detailed with at least three or four pages to each subject being presented, including a history of each spell or potion mentioned. Each flick of the wrist, the correct pronunciation, what the product of each spell or potion should look like—it was all there. Hermione couldn't have done a better job herself, and she finally understoodreally understoodwhy Malfoy was Head Boy. He was bloody brilliant. 'Not to mention rude, prejudiced and an arrogant prick.' She reminded herself as pleasant thoughts of Draco Malfoy filled her mind. 'He's called me "Mudblood" often enough… though it has been a couple of years… But he's still obnoxious and conceited! He's made me life hell at this school more than once, and I simply can't stand him! He's a Death Eater's son, bound to the same fate. It would be ridiculous to get into that mess.' Hermione tried to think of other things, convincing herself that he was not important, that she didn't care what side of the war he was on—but she couldn't banish him from her head. 'God, I hate him… won't even leave me alone in the privacy of my mind, that nosy, egotistical--'

"Hermione?" Her thoughts were interrupted by Harry who was looking concernedly down at her. She smiled sweetly at him, and he smiled back. "How are you feeling?" Harry asked. She shrugged.

"I could be better." She said honestly.

"And what, besides your lovely black-out in Transfiguration, could make your day bad?" He sat down in the chair Malfoy had been sitting in and brushed some of her hair from her face. Hermione chose her words carefully before answering, staring at her hands.

"Well… Dumbledore thinks I'm anorexic--"

"Aren't you?" Harry interrupted. She glared at him and he smiled sheepishly. "Sorry." She rolled her eyes.

"I told him that I simply didn't have the time to eat, and he… well… let's just say that he didn't like that. He told me that--" She squirmed uneasily. "—He might have to place me under the care of Malfoy if I don't eat again." He stared at her, an unreadable look on his face. "Can you believe it? Malfoy! The same boy who has called me 'mudblood' over and over again! The same boy who has relentlessly teased me about my heritage and made my life hell! Is Dumbledore mad?" Harry chuckled a little.

"Well, he was always a bit mad, 'Mione."

"I can't believe you're laughing at me!" She shouted shrilly, but he continued to laugh. "Can you imagine me in the care of Malfoy? He'd be an absolute nightmare! He'd order me around, force-feed me, telling Dumbledore everything I did and didn't eat--"

"Which is basically what Dumbledore would want him to do." Harry said nonchalantly. Hermione continued to rant.

"Exactly! He would be unbearable! Simply—what?" Harry rolled his eyes.

"I'm not saying that I support the idea of you being taken care of by Malfoy—honestly, I think he'd hex you first—but everything you described is, well, what Dumbledore would have anyone do." Hermione glared at him.

"Do you honestly think that Malfoy taking care of me is a good idea? We'd kill each other!" Harry laughed again and began speaking to her as though soothing a five year-old.

"I think it's an absolutely horrible idea, Hermione; absolutely wretched. Dumbledore should just go stuff that stupid idea up his--"

"Do you really think it's that bad?" Harry jumped at the sound of Dumbledore's voice, and turned to face him. Dumbledore was smiling, clearly enjoying the argument between the two friends. Harry hastily stood up and gave him a very frightened look, ignoring Hermione's laughter.

"I beg your pardon, Professor, I, er…"

"Oh don't mind me; please continue your conversation." Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling, and Harry was turning a horrible greenish color. Hermione was still laughing, going into coughing fits every once in a while, but she was laughing all the same. Harry scowled at her.

"Eat your food!" He barked, annoyed. She choked on another giggle, picked up a piece of sausage, and took a small bite. Hermione smirked at him.

"Your face is a bit green, Harry. Are you sure you're not feeling sick? Should I call Madame Pomfrey?"

"No!" He said, looking panicked. "Quidditch tomorrow! She'd never let me leave!" Hermione laughed again and took another small bite of her sausage. "You're going to have to eat more than that, 'Mione." She rolled her eyes and finished the sausage.

"Like what?" She asked. "I can't possibly finish—mmph!" Harry shoved a piece of cantaloupe into her mouth and laughed as she chewed it with a sour expression on her face. When she swallowed, she grabbed his forearm and squeezed it tightly. "I detest cantaloupe, you little—hey—mmph!" He shoved a piece of sausage in her mouth and she chomped on it with a sullen expression on her face. "Harry Potter, you wanker!" With that, he began to laugh and she smacked him playfully on his arm. "I don't need you force-feeding me, you know. I am a big girl—I can take showers by myself and everything." Professor Dumbledore began to chuckle again

"I'm glad you've taken it upon yourself to feed Ms. Granger, Mr. Potter." He said with a smile tugging at his lips. "But for the time being, we need to make sure that she can and will feed herself before we… well, before we take any real action." Hermione's face flushed and she ducked away, extremely embarrassed. "Ms. Granger?"

"Mm." She answered.

"Remember what I said earlier. One meal, and I'll entrust you to any of our fellow students, even if it is Mr. Malfoy. Although, Mr. Potter seems to be doing a fine job of it, wouldn't you say?" Hermione's face reappeared from beneath her blankets. She pursed her lips and thought out her words carefully.

"Professor, Malfoy and I would kill each other. And I would… well, I would die before let him order me around."

"Even if it's for your own well-being?" Hermione nodded stubbornly. He sighed. "I'm surprised at your attitude, Ms. Granger. You and Mr. Malfoy have done well working together over the past few months; why the hostility and anger towards him now?" Before the logical, rational side of Hermione could prevent it, the impulsive, emotional Hermione burst forth.

"Because we hate each other! He's been awful and cruel to me for the past 6 years—not to mention the son of a Death Eater! He'll probably end up the same way; rotting in Azkaban! That is, of course, if You-Know-Who--"

"Voldemort."

"—Yes, him—If he doesn't break him out first. I don't want to get caught up in that mess! And he's rude and conceited--"

"And very bright." Dumbledore said, twiddling his thumbs.

"Yes but…he's an arrogant prick and I hate him! He's said awful things about my family and my muggle heritage since second year and--"

"I am well aware of that, Ms. Granger. But let me ask you a question." She was about to shake her head and continue, when he held a hand up to stop her. "When you've answered it, you can continue with your tirade." She blushed and nodded. Harry stood to the side, merely observing, a mildly curious look on his face. "Did you ever wonder why he treated you the way he did?"

"Because I'm muggle-born." She answered absently.

"But why? Why is that so important to him?"

"Because he's a pureblood and they're taught that they're better than muggle-born witches and wizards--"

"Taught? By whom?" Dumbledore said quietly.

"I don't know! I don't care! For all I know, there's a school for pureblood children only--"

"Ms. Granger, please calm down. Take a few deep breaths…" Hermione obeyed. "Listen to me. There is more to Draco Malfoy than it appears—just as there is more to any one person than is just shown on the surface. I doubt Mr. Potter has told you all of his deepest secrets, let you in on that personal of a level with him, just as I'm sure there are many things about you he doesn't know. It is the same with any student, teacher, muggle, child, oradult… they all have secrets. I suggest you stop judging Mr. Malfoy so harshly until you are truly fit to do so." Hermione was silent for a moment.

"Professor… what you say makes sense, but this is Malfoy we're talking about. I mean… it's not as if he's going to do the same. And he doesn't deserve a second chance from me--"

"Doesn't everyone?"

"What?" Dumbledore looked at her from over the top of his half-moon glasses, a very tired look on his face.

"Doesn't everyone deserve a second chance? Or a third chance? A nineteenth chance? We all deserve chances, Hermione. Humans make mistakesevery day at every given moment. If no one was ever given a second chance, we'd all be living alone, unloved with a block of ice encasing our hearts. In fact, the human race might have even died out by now, if no one was given second chances. Humans cannot live without love and company." Hermione remained silent, working it over in her head. "I think I've left you with enough to think about for one day, hm?" Harry and Hermione nodded and returned to thinking about it intensely. Dumbledore swept out of the room, a small smile on his face.

"Do you think we should give Malfoy a chance?" Hermione asked Harry. He just stared at her tiredly.

"Hermione, I… I don't know. For all I know, he wants me dead and has for years. I don't like him, I don't care about him in any way, shape or form, but I suppose we should… listen to Dumbledore?" Hermione studied his eyes as they spoke. Pain. Every time Harry spoke of Dumbledore or anything he'd said or done, there was hurt in his eyes. Every time Dumbledore made a speech before dinner or what not, or if he spoke to Harry alone, Harry had always regarded his words seriously and considered them, but still there was pain in his eyes. It had been like that since the beginning of his 6th year. Harry had been distant for the first few months of school, keeping to himself and his studies. His eyes had always been red-rimmed from lack of sleep or… or maybe tears. Hermione didn't know, but she did know that whatever it was that had been bothering Harry was something he was not ready to talk about. She suspected it had to do with Sirius or You-Know-Who, but she disapproved of assuming anything and didn't. That space proved to be what Harry needed, and he, Hermione, and Ron were closer than ever.

"I suppose you're right. But we haven't decided anything, right?" Harry nodded and she sighed in relief.

Draco sat in the Head's common room, consumed by his studies. A few minutes later, he put down his quill triumphantly and smiled at his perfect Potions essay. Now that his studies were done, Draco could do anything he wanted to do; go talk to his friends in Slytherin, patrol the halls (hoping to give detention to some unsuspecting third year), or even read a book. Deciding that he was too tired to get up and do anything, he grabbed a book that was lying on the desk he was sitting at. The book was titled, "Hogwarts, A History", and Draco immediately grimaced. It was practically the bible by which Granger lived by, spouting off passages from that whenever he or someone else were unaware of some feature of the castle. He nearly threw the book, realizing that she had crept into his head again, but stopped himself. Grabbing the book, he sat in one of the two cozy armchairs by the roaring fire and began to read.

Ten minutes later, Draco realized how he'd been staring at the same words for nearly three straight minutes, his eyes glazed over. Unintentionally, his mind wandered towards thoughts of Granger. "Bloody perfect bookworm," He sneered. "Thinks she knows everything about everything and everyone! She knows nothing about me…" 'Death Eater's son…' Her voice accused. "That's not my fault! I can't help the decisions my father made!" He said angrily to himself. 'I would only be embarrassed were I the product of inbreeding!' That was also something he had no control over, and it infuriated him to no end. As it was, many of the girls he had dated were related to him in one way or another—but there really wasn't much of a choice. He was only permitted to date pureblood girls—as if he'd date anything else—and had learned to deal with it long ago. An image of Granger swam before him, laughing at him. "Would you just leave me alone!" He yelled loudly and threw the book across the room. It hit the wall with a loud thud and fell to the floor. "I hate this place, I hate this damn school, and I hate perfect little Granger!" Draco stood up and violently kicked the leather couch, screaming out his frustration. He grabbed another book from the bookshelf and threw it against the wall, yelling in fury. "I hate my father's rules, I hate what he's done to my damn family, I hate Potter and Weasley and--" the portrait opened just as he threw another book to the wall and kicked the couch, revealing a very disturbed looking Hermione Granger.

Hermione had been released from the Hospital Wing shortly after her discussion with Dumbledore, promising Madame Pomfrey that she would eat all of the food on the platter. She grabbed the platter, Malfoy's notes, and headed back to the common room. She ate a piece of fruit and nibbled on her toast on the way, feeling strength returning to her body. As she neared the common room, a faint yell could be heard. She sped up, walking quickly to the common room. Once she reached the portrait, she heard another loud yell from inside. "Malfoy?" She asked herself quietly.

"Password?" The old woman in the painting asked.

"Unity." The portrait swung open, and a book soared in front of her, smacking the far wall. She turned her head to the left and saw a slightly sweaty, panting, furious looking Malfoy. He was frozen in his tracks, his hair messy and some of it sticking to his face. His eyes were a stormy gray and full of anger and hatred, and his face was paler than usual. He didn't move, unsure of what to do, and Hermione just stared at him, studying him. His robes were off, leaving him in his long-sleeved dress shirt and black slacks. The first few buttons of his shirt were undone, his tie was missing, and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. This too surprised Hermione; not only was he letting his rage loose, but he wasn't even trying to keep his appearance nice to cover it up.

They stared at each other for a while, both frozen in their places, unsure of who should make the first move. After a minute or two of waiting, Malfoy suddenly walked angrily and quickly towards her. She backed away until she hit a wall and shrunk up against it. His hand found her shoulder and he kept her pressed tightly against the wall, while the other grabbed the platter from her hand and tossed it to the side. There was a desperate, dangerous sort of look in his eyes and he continued to breathe hard as he stared at her.

"You tell anyone about this, and I'll make your life hell." He said, his voice shaking. He gave her one last push into the wall and walked up the staircase and into his room, slamming the door behind him. Hermione stood shaking, still pressed against the wall.

"He just… threatened me." She said softly. "Why… why is it so important that no one finds out that he got angry? It just doesn't make sense." Something Dumbledore had said echoed softly in her mind. 'There is more to Draco Malfoy than it appears—just as there is more to any one person than is just shown on the surface.' Hermione slowly walked to her room, staring uneasily at Malfoy's door. "Maybe Dumbledore's right." Hermione stared at Malfoy's door, almost hoping to see through it. She could just imagine him sitting on his bed, holding his head in his hands, cursing himself for showing any emotion at all. She could almost see the way his blond hair drooped slightly over his hands, his skin even paler in the moonlight… Hermione snapped her mind to attention; none of that was important. "He's hiding something." She brushed an unruly curl from her eye. "And I… I just hope my curiosity doesn't get the better of me."

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CherryPieKitten: You made me laugh so hard with your review--my sister thinks I'm insane now. (sighs) Oh well, so what else is new? I also am glad that you enjoy the way I describe my story; I try really hard to make it as descriptive and realistic as possible!!

breziebear: You made me laugh a lot too, you silly goose! Hopefully the love-hate relationship between you and my story won't affect your enjoyment of it... (?) (did that even make sense?!) Anyways, I will do my best to make you love my story and make life simple--I hate it when things get too complicated! lol.

I'd like to thank all of you who applied for the position as my beta-reader (though you were all so good, it made it really hard to choose!)! And thank you for the reviews from RandomSmirf13, snarlygirl, potatomaker, Miss Moonlight, Princess Jillia, Greek Falcon, Shadowed Eternity, Legolas-Orli04, hops, ProwlingKitKat, KeeperofthePineNeedles (by the way, I still absolutely love your penname!!), XXXpinkkitty5467, tweetygurl88, and LadyCoco.

Seriously though, guys, review and I'll write faster! Telling your friends is a double bonus, especially when they review... Reviews... I love them. They just seem to magically motivate me to write faster (twiddles thumbs thoughtfully)...