When he saw her coming down the stairs that night, hair tamed with a lone curl accentuating her long and elegant neck, the sophisticated cut of her dress showing off her hips in a way that made him blush, and that smile on her face. His heart stopped. She was beautiful, and he had known it all along, but the looks on everyone else's face told him that he had been the first to notice. They all stared at her like this was some overnight transformation, and it wasn't, he'd seen it in their second year when he'd visited her bedside after she was petrified, the guilt threatening to pull him apart, he'd seen her then. He realized just how beautiful she was. She was frozen in front of him, and he couldn't stop staring, and then the tears came, and he told her everything in watery whispers that he prayed she would never remember. But the vision of her, the sight of what he'd done to her, cut him like a knife. He'd seen her in their third year too, he'd said vulgar things, and he'd done foul things that year. And he'd seen her beauty like never before; hair flying wildly in the breeze, her anger, and the cold flushing her face, rage dancing brutally in her eyes, and he'd seen her. Saw her even better when she slapped him across the face. It'd hurt his pride, there was no doubt about that, but he couldn't stop thinking about her beautiful anger and how he was happy he'd gotten to see it, even if it was directed at him. And now he was filled with pride and anger and confusion. Proud of her for having the courage to walk down those stairs and face those who had bullied her, including himself. Fury when he saw the way Weasley gaped at her, like a dog drooling all over the entrance hall. Anger at seeing Viktor Krum kiss her hand and dance with her, and do everything that he wanted to do. And confusion, it'd been there since the first day that he met her since she first challenged everything that he knew. She was a muggle-born, a mudblood. But all of the vitriol, and hate, that once accompanied those words, he found it all so hard to muster now. He was confused at how she, just a skinny little Gryffindor bookworm, had challenged everything he'd been raised to believe. But no matter how hard he tried these days, he couldn't think of her as anything but his equal. She consistently beat him out for the top of their class; she proved herself year after year at being a brave and powerful witch, the likes of which Hogwarts probably hadn't seen since Professor McGonagall. And despite all the darkness around her, she still managed to smile every day. Whether it be at Weasley, or Potter, or some little comment that Ginny made quietly in class. She always had the strength and bravery to smile, and he found that he was beginning to envy her for that. He found it harder to smile every day; the threat of the darkness was starting to choke the life out of him. Slowly its tendrils were wrapping themselves around him, and soon they would begin to squeeze. He watched her covertly through the night, sneaking glances as he danced with Pansy and her with Krum.

"Draco? Draco?" Pansy prompted him, the tide of annoyance rising in her voice.

"Yes?" He snapped back, irritated at her for pulling him from his silent reverie.

"I'm tired, and I'm going to bed." She said as she pulled out of his grip and stared at him defiantly like she wanted him to ask her to stay, to beg her, or maybe to pull her into an empty classroom and snog her till they got caught.

"Goodnight then, Pansy," Draco replied and swiftly walked her to the entrance of the Great Hall, where he left her. She stared back at him, wide-eyed with confusion about his dismissal of her.

He didn't care to be honest. He knew he could heal Pansy's wounded pride tomorrow with a few carefully placed comments that deigned to sound heartfelt. He knew it would be easy because he'd done it hundreds of times before. He knew what was expected of him, and he didn't stray far from that formula. But tonight, he dared to get close to the line, to loiter and watch Hermione Granger until she disappeared into an empty classroom with Krum, and he went to the boy's lavatory to vomit. He hated seeing her with other boys because it made him jealous. It made his vision red with rage, and it made his stomach turn because he knew that no matter what, he would never get one of her dazzling smiles. She'd never deign to see him as something more than the arse he'd been to her for years. And he knew that it was his entire fault.

He pulled himself out of his head, and his eyes searched the dance floor once more to find her. But she wasn't there, but Krum was standing there talking to another of his Durmstrang friends. He had a bad feeling in the pit of something, and he had to stop himself from running to find her; he wasn't like that; they weren't like that. He was barely out of the Great Hall when he finally caught sight of her. She was sitting on the steps of the Entrance Hall, holding her knees to her chest, tears were running down her cheeks. He'd never seen her cry like this before. She sounded almost broken, betrayed, and it killed him inside. He didn't allow himself to think before he acted, before throwing caution to the wind and doing what he wanted for once in his godforsaken life.

She felt someone grab her arm, tight but not too tight. She thought it was Ron, so she whipped her head up to yell at him again but was shocked to see Draco Malfoy's steely grey eyes staring back at her. His face a mask, showing nothing of how he felt or what he was thinking. He didn't scare her, he never had. And right now was no different; she was merely intrigued and confused and curious.

"Come with me." He said, his voice barely a whisper. He threw a glance over his shoulder, making sure that no one was watching him. The last thing he needed was for some Slytherin to report back to his father about him disappearing mid-Yule Ball with Hermione Granger.

Hermione didn't protest to his demand, quietly and quickly they made there way up the stairs and into an empty classroom.

"Colloportus," Draco said with a wave of his wand to lock the door, "I don't want any Slytherins barging in here," He told her absentmindedly. He didn't want her to think he'd locked her in here with some nefarious plan.

"Can I help you with something?" Hermione asked him, tears still evident on her cheeks, but she'd stopped crying once he pulled her away from the stairs.

"Well, I-" Draco began, but he wasn't sure what to say. He'd dragged her up here because she was upset, and he wanted to fix it, but now he realized how reckless he'd been. They weren't friends, she wouldn't want to talk to him. But he'd gone too far to turn back now, he'd taken the risk, he might as well follow it through.

"I saw you crying, are you okay?" He asked, almost embarrassed that he'd dragged her up here to ask, such as a simple question.

She looked stunned, confused at his reason for bringing her upstairs.

"Why do you care if I was crying? You've made me cry on more than one occasion if I remember correctly." Hermione asked, almost laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation.

"I know, I'm sorry. I just, I wanted to make sure that you were alright." Draco said, dropping his shoulders in surrender.

"It was Ron, he was jealous I showed up with Krum. Told me I was fraternizing with the enemy." She told him after a long stretch of silence in the room, her voice was quiet, and Draco almost had to strain to hear her.

"If he wanted you to be his date, he should've asked." Draco scoffed before he could think the better of it. Hermione didn't seem to mind; she chuckled along with him.

"What do you really want, Draco?" She asked him, even a blind man could've sensed Draco was holding back. He was shifting on his feet, having trouble looking in her eyes. He obviously had something on his mind.

"You look lovely tonight." He told her, never looking up from his hands, his voice quiet now.

"Thanks," Hermione responded, her eyes wide with surprise. Who could blame her? The boy who had relentlessly bullied her for years was now worried about her crying and complimenting her.

"I just, I've never known how to say this," Draco began, still not looking up from his hands, "But I'm sorry for everything. Everything has always been so complicated, and I took it out on you."

"Wh-what?" Hermione asked the look of confusion now fully evident upon her face.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I could never tell you before because if my father or Weaslby found out, I couldn't handle the fallout. But alone, I can honestly say that I'm sorry. I've been sorry since the day I visited you in the Hospital Wing when you were petrified, and it made me sick to my stomach." Draco said, words spilling out of him as the dam finally broke.

"Madam Pomfrey told me you came to visit, even sat by my bed for hours. I wasn't sure if I believed her." Hermione said, more so to herself than to Draco.

"Yeah," Draco quietly, he didn't know what else to say to her.

"Thank you for apologizing," Hermione told him, "Ron and Harry's head might explode if they ever knew."

"Please, don't tell anyone." Draco pleads, his head snapping up to look at her.

"I won't, but still, thank you," Hermione told him, a natural smile on her lips. It lit up Dracos' whole world, he never thought she'd ever smile at him.

Draco unlocked the door and gave her a smile before disappearing back into the hallway and the party below. All he could think about was how unsuspecting the night had been, how he thought it would be another boring Hogwarts event. But instead, he felt a weight lifted off his shoulders. He felt lighter in step, and he kept imagining that smile she'd given him. He felt like he'd had his first drink of water after wandering the desert for years.

He saw her slip out of the room shortly after him. Still, instead of rejoining the festivities, she slipped off into the darkened hallways back towards the Gryffindor Common Room. He hoped that maybe, in the future, they could have more nights like tonight. Just the two of them, given peace, to finally speak freely. But for now, he could only hope, for he had no idea what their future would hold. By the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, everything would be different, darker, and harder than it ever had been before.