'What do you think happened!?' Blaise was pressing him, 'Everyone's talking about McGonagall bringing Rodolphus Lestrange into the castle. Apparently he was found stupefied in Hogsmeade woods…' He shook his head incredulously.

'I don't know, Blaise.' Said Draco, disinterestedly, 'Doesn't make any difference to me.'

'You sure you're not bothered? He is your uncle.'

'Doesn't mean I liked him…'

'Really? You didn't use to mind him.' Blaise questioned.

'Yeah, well, a lot's changed since then, hasn't it?' Said Draco bitterly, and without even looking at Blaise, he got up to leave. Blaise made an irritated noise behind him as he stalked towards the arched doorway of the boy's dorm. He knew he was being unpleasant, but he didn't care. He was eager to get some time to himself. He walked down the stairs to his dorm, strode across the room and threw himself onto his four poster bed. He drew the curtains and lay there for a good while, staring up at the green draping.

It seemed Hermione hadn't said anything about what had happened in the woods. Draco didn't know whether to be relieved or resentful about this. He wasn't sure if he wanted the attention and recognition that would come from saving Hermione Granger's life, but was also a little insulted that she wasn't singing his praises from the rooftops.

It was a few hours after the incident; he didn't know what had transpired since he had left Granger with Potter and Weasley – he had hidden in the Hog's Head until the time had come to return to the castle. He hadn't wanted to see the aftermath of what had happened. He didn't want to witness Hermione's sobs, or Weasley's anger, or Potter's surprise. He didn't want thank you's or questions. He just wanted to be left alone, away from it all. But there was nowhere he could escape from his thoughts.

He didn't hate her. He didn't hate her at all.

He hadn't ever hated her really. Yes, he had found her insufferable, but he hadn't truly hated her. At the beginning, he hadn't thought she was worth hating – too much effort. She was just fun to taunt, but she had caught his attention through the years. She was clever, she was dignified, she was brave, she was… beautiful. All things a 'mudblood' should not be. That is why she made him so angry; she was a walking embodiment of everything that was wrong with what he believed. She had defied him excruciatingly just by being there, and then she had truly challenged him by seeking him out and asking him what was wrong. There was a whole other layer to her; not only was she a well-rounded human being, but she possessed a kindness that most people did not, and many would never know. Certainly Draco had never known anything like it before.

On top of everything else; she was caring and thoughtful, and annoyingly observant. She could read people. Hermione Granger had wormed her way into her mind; a place he really did not want her to be. He rubbed his temples and groaned. This was all wrong. This wasn't how he was supposed to feel… Malfoy's didn't get confused. Malfoy's were sure of themselves. He had a plan for his life, and it did not include Hermione Granger… But why did that give him a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach?

'Mr. Malfoy?' Came a voice from the doorway.

'What?' He said tonelessly.

'I believe the correct form of address is 'yes, Professor,'' came the indignant, but amused voice.

With an intense amount of effort, Draco pulled himself off his bed and pulled apart the curtains. Professor Slughorn was standing in the doorway to the dorm.

'Yes, sir?' said Draco apathetically.

'Professor McGonagall wants to see you in the hospital wing.'

Draco suddenly snapped to attention, his heart beat racing.

'Why?' He said, somewhat rudely.

Slughorn tutted good naturedly. 'I am assured it is nothing to worry about, my boy, she just wants to talk, although I have no idea what about…'

I do, thought Draco. It seems Hermione had told someone at least.

He sighed heavily. Hopelessly.

'Alright, alright. I'm going.'

He walked nervously up the staircase to the common room behind Professor Slughorn. Blaise was scowling at him as he walked by. He couldn't even muster the strength to scowl back.

Slughorn lead him out of the common room and through the dungeons, before leaving Draco near the Great Hall and turning back to go to his office. Draco stood for a while, contemplating the corridor that ended in the hospital wing. He felt sick, and that annoyed him. Why should he feel this way? He didn't even know if he really was going to see her, Slughorn had only mentioned McGonagall, so he should stop being so stupid.

Even if he would see Granger, why should that make him feel like this? He'd never felt like this before, and he wasn't exactly inexperienced with women.

It's different with her, said that voice in his head. The prospect of seeing that unruly mass of curls made him tingle all over, like it always did, except now he had been forced to realise that it wasn't loathing that he felt.

He snorted exasperatedly at himself, and forced himself to head down that corridor. He was Draco Malfoy, and he could handle a silly little crush. That was all this was, just his mind wanting what it couldn't have. It was reverse psychology; that was all. If she was a girl he saw every day in the Slytherin common room, he wouldn't take a second look. Now he'd identified the problem, he could get himself in check and get over this.

The door to the hospital wing appeared in front of him much quicker than he would have liked, and inexplicably his heart was racing again. He knew Hermione was in there. Of course she was, why else would McGonagall ask to meet him in the hospital wing? He took a deep breath, and pushed open the door.

He looked around the cool, clinical room, at the empty beds, and saw one with the curtains drawn around it. This must have been how it looked to Granger the night she had sought him out. He could hear murmuring behind that curtain; male murmuring. Great, Potter and Weasley were here. The last thing he wanted was to see those two, especially when they were fawning all over her in her weakened state.

McGonagall suddenly appeared from Madame Pomfrey's office, and Draco met her sharp gaze with a look of disdain, trying to portray that he couldn't be bothered with any of this.

'Mr Malfoy, come with me please,' She said, striding briskly over to him. 'Miss Granger and I would like to talk to you.'

He sighed grumpily, trying to maintain his unpleasant reputation; it might make all of this a bit easier. McGonagall lead him towards the bed that he knew Hermione must be lying in, and drew the curtains. Three questioning gazes met his eyes as he came face to face with the Golden Trio.

'Malfoy.' Said Potter, nodding in recognition. Draco snorted.

'What, you think we're all grown up now, Potter? Going to be civil to each other are we?'

'Yeah, I thought that might be a good idea… Considering.' Said Potter. Weasley made a sceptical noise next to him.

'Speak for yourself mate, I still think there's got to be a catch… let him explain himself before we decide he's not a despicable human being.'

'Excuse me,' Draco sneered, ''Explain myself'? I saved your precious girlfriends life, Weasley, you should be thanking me on bended knee.'

'Whatever… Death Eater.' Weasley retorted. Draco flinched.

'Ron, stop it!' Berated Granger, and Draco finally let himself look at her.

She looked the same as always. A bit pale and tired maybe, but it was the face he knew so well, surrounded by that infuriating curly mass. She looked the same, but he was looking at her differently. Half of him wanted to run from the room and never look at her again, the other half needed to see her every day for the rest of his life.

'Yes, that'll do. Mr Malfoy is here because he has done a great thing… we just need his side of the story for the full prosecution of Rodolphus Lestrange, who is currently awaiting the arrival of Azkaban Guards in my office.'

'Fine.' Said Draco frustratedly, 'But I don't want to talk in front of them.' He said, eyeing Potter and Weasley with distrust.

'Fat chance, ferret, I'm staying.' Said Weasley, clasping Hermione's hand protectively.

'Ron…' said Hermione, pleadingly.

'Yeah, come on Ron.' Said Potter. 'We'll wait outside, Hermione can fill us in later.'

Ron grudgingly let go of Hermione's hand and stalked towards the exit of the hospital with Potter, flashing Draco a warning look as he went.

'Thank you, boys.' Said McGonagall to their retreating backs, and waited until they shut the door before turning to Draco.

'Now, Mr Malfoy, can you tell us exactly what you saw? Miss Granger and I am a bit confused as to how you found her in the woods, as she was disillusioned at the time.'

Draco tried to portray that this 'interview' whole thing was an annoyance to him, and relayed the story as if he couldn't imagine a more boring topic. He told them everything, except that he had been following Hermione when she had been taken. He made it sound as if he had just happened to be nearby the Hog's Head when she was there, and he had thought he'd heard her cry out.

McGonagall and Granger were looking suspiciously at him, and he was inwardly pleading that neither of them would ask the question that he knew they were both thinking.

'Very well, Mr Malfoy, you may go.'

He tutted as if to say 'well it's about time!' and turned to leave, but Hermione clasped hold of his wrist. Her touch seemed to send a shockwave through his body, straight to his heart, and looked at her in surprise.

'Wait…' she said quietly, her eyes penetrating into his, 'I'd like to talk to him first, if you don't mind, Professor.'

McGonagall raised an eyebrow.

'Alone?'

'Yes, please.'

McGonagall gave Malfoy a piercing look, before leaving Granger's bedside rather reluctantly. Draco was beginning to get annoyed. He knew he wasn't the most popular person on Earth, but he had just saved an innocent girl from being raped by an incredibly evil man. Was no one going to offer him any credit?!

'I have another question, Draco…'

Malfoy took a deep breath. Here it came…

'Even if you thought something really had happened to me, why did you care? We're not exactly the best of friends…'

Yep, there it was.

'Come on Granger, I was just thinking of myself.' He said, as if pitying her naivety. 'If something had happened to you, and I was nearby, guess who'd get the blame?' He scowled resentfully.

'Oh…' she said, sounding a little disappointed.

He looked into her big, brown eyes that he swore could see things that other people couldn't, and a wave of hopelessness hit him so strongly that, before he knew what had happened, he was sitting on the edge of Granger's bed with his head in his hands.

'Draco?' Came her quiet, kind voice.

He just sat there, completely still, taking comfort in the blackness. Just for those few seconds as he scrunched up his eyes, he could pretend none of this was happening, and that he didn't feel the way he did. But then, he sensed her body shift under the blankets, and felt her little hand touch him tentatively on the back. He froze. In that second of contact, she had broken the last barrier, the last flimsy hope that he could block this all out. She started to rub circles on his back and he couldn't take it anymore.

He stood up quickly and turned to look at her, almost fearfully. She was looking at him with confusion.

'Draco, are you ok?' she asked softly.

He had never been less OK in his life.

'Fine…' he mumbled, trying desperately to think of something to change the subject to. 'Guess you're still sore… but he didn't have you for that long so can't be that bad…'

She wiggled a little under the covers, as if to test her limbs.

'Just a bit achey, it was far worse last time after Bel…' she stopped, and looked at him with worry, biting her lip.

He flushed and looked away from her.

'Right…' he said awkwardly, and then, before he could stop himself, 'I knew it was you, you know…'

She smiled at him, and he knew that she understood what he was communicating. He was saying he had tried the best he could back there in the manor, and he wished he had done more.

'I know, Draco, thank you. And thank you for today… I really thought he was going to….' She looked at the floor uncomfortably. Draco turned his back on her and stared at the bedside table, just so he didn't have to see her looking so vulnerable again. Being with her like this was torture – and he could have left minutes ago, but he just couldn't do it. He stared at the door to the hospital wing, but still his feet wouldn't move.

Suddenly, he felt a tap on his shoulder, and he turned to see her standing in front of him. Then, inexplicably, unexpectedly, she threw her arms around him, standing on tip toes to rest her head on his shoulder. He was so shocked he couldn't move, and when he eventually came back to his senses, he felt a lump rise in his throat.

That mean part of him was screaming angrily at him, telling him to stop being weak, to push her off him and never think of her again, but yet again he couldn't do it, and his traitorous body was deciding for him again. He tentatively hugged her back, wrapping his arms around her loosely, uncomfortably. Her wild curls were tickling his face, and he took a breath. Her smell seemed to match her perfectly, warm, gentle, comforting.

'You saved me.' She said into his ear, and then she broke away smiled at him.

'This doesn't mean we're friends.' He said to her, trying to keep the sadness out of his voice. He couldn't be her friend. He couldn't take it.

'I know…' she said, 'there's too much history I think, but… reckon we can call a truce?' There was a playful smile on her face, and she held out her hand to him.

'Yeah…' he said, giving the tiniest smile back, 'truce.'

He took her hand and clasped it tight, knowing that this would probably be the last time he would ever touch her.

She let go, and suddenly the world went back to the cold place it was without her touch. He took a lingering look at the only eyes that had seen him, the hair that drove him mad, and those lips he would never kiss. Without another word he turned on his heel and walked briskly towards the door. He went out to where Potter and Weasley were standing. He and Weasley gave each other dirty looks as he walked past, and then Weasley went back towards his girlfriend. Potter looked at him questioningly, before turning to follow Ron.

'Potter!' Draco called.

Potter turned to face him, observing him curiously.

'Don't…. let her wander off again.' He said warningly.

Potter raised his eyebrows in surprise, as Draco stared defiantly back at him.

'We'll look after her.' He said.

Draco nodded to him and then turned to walk away.

'You care about her…' said Potter quietly behind him.

Draco didn't turn back around but set off walking.

'I won't tell…'

It was quiet, but Draco heard it. It hardly mattered anyway, he thought as he headed back to the Slytherin common room, who would believe something like that?

Draco Malfoy in love with Hermione Granger? Never. He loathed her. Everyone knew that.