A/N: Hey guys sorry about the really long update time  I'm going to try to write more often, but no promises. I have the next chapter half done and would be willing to spend some time writing the rest of it if I get 15 reviews of this chapter. That would mean the next chapter would be up on Tuesday. Hope y'all enjoy!

Disclaimer: I am unfortunately not the owner of Draco Malfoy Boohoo  or any other character of Jk Rowling's. Double boohoo

Hermione proceeded to weave in and out of the vast crowd on platform 9 ¾, avoiding as many of her "friends" as she could. This was really not the time or the place for them to have the discussion she knew was inevitable. It was going to go exactly as she had imagined it, they would question her whereabouts over the summer, why she hadn't written to them, and of course her appearance. Somewhere during the conversation Ron would get angry enough that all hell would break loose, not a pleasant sight.

But the real problem was, she couldn't give them the answers they'd want, she couldn't tell them the truth. They hadn't ever had to deal with something like she had; they wouldn't understand the pain she had been put through. And they especially wouldn't understand what it was like to have it all inflicted by her own father, her own flesh and blood. The one who was suppose to be protecting her from the pain, not inflicting it.

She effortlessly slipped onto the train, unnoticed by those she was trying to avoid, and stealthily made her way to the heads compartment. She slipped the door open and hauled her trunk in, her next move was to attempt to place her trunk on the rack overhead designed for luggage. There was only one problem, she could barley lift her trunk a foot off the ground, let alone over her head.

While she was debating on how she would get it onto the rack, the compartment door opened and Draco Malfoy entered. In a single swift motion he gracefully lifted his trunk and placed it overhead, then gracelessly plopped tiredly into his seat. Now she really had a problem, she had two options in her eyes. Attempt to lift her trunk and appear weak in front of the enemy, or lower her pride enough to actually be able to ask Malfoy for help. Either way she lost. Well it was now or never.

She summoned all her strength, and with a mighty pull managed to lift her trunk a measly two feet from the floor before she had to let it go. She heard a snort of laugher in the background, before some shuffling. Before she knew it her trunk was taken from her hands and easily placed on the rack overhead.

"If you needed help Mudblood, all you had to do was ask" Muttered Malfoy as he retook his seat and lapsed back into silence.

"Thank you" was Hermiones muffled reply before she as well took a seat.

For the majority of the ride to Hogwarts the heads compartment was silent, and for that Hermione was beyond grateful. However Malfoy decided to break the silence with a question.

"So when did you get that bruise on the back of your neck Granger, you know the one in the shape of a hand? Did the weasel get a little out of control during your last session?" he asked with a smarmy smirk adorning his face.

Hermione didn't answer him though, she was thinking about that night. The night that haunted her dreams, the night that had ruined the rest of her life. The night her mother died. She could hear the sirens, and the footfalls of the firemen and paramedics rushing to her and her mother's aid. She could hear her mothers screams of pure agony as the last bit of life was drained from her limp body. They had all been too late to save her. All she could see was the black of the night and the crimson pool of her mother's blood.

"Granger?" Malfoy asked uncertainly, moving his hand in front of her face.

All of a sudden Hermione snapped out of her reverie and back to the present.

"Did you say something Malfoy?" Hermione questioned in a small fragile voice, it was all that she could muster after thinking of that memory, it took all of her energy to keep herself from simply breaking down and crying.

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Draco's POV

I looked at Granger, expecting to find that usual spark of fire in her eyes, but it was gone. Gone was the Hermione Granger I knew, the proud Mudblood, the granger with wits to shoot back an insult. She was gone.

In her place sat a truly broken girl, fragile and miserable beyond words. She looked like I did when I was alone and could let down the walls I've built up around myself. If you looked into her eyes you could see the tears threatening to escape, but most of all you could see an emptiness that had never been there before.

I found myself thinking that maybe, just maybe we weren't as different as we thought. We were both damaged goods.

"Nothing, Granger absolutely nothing" I found myself saying.

I was shocked to tell the truth, she was wearing her heart on her sleeve. Why wasn't she hiding these emotions away? She was making herself completely vulnerable in front of the enemy and she didn't care.

I found myself studying her for the rest of the trip; she seemed to be as out of it as Lovegood was on one of her better days. As I was scanning her over I noticed more bruises adorning her body, not unlike the one I had acquired from my father over the summer.

That led me to the question, Was Granger being abused by someone? Was she going through the same thing that I was?

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Hermione's POV

I could feel his eyes on me, it made me want to squirm but I just didn't have the energy to do anything about it. If I said anything we'd start fighting, and I really just didn't have the fight in me.

Thankfully the train came to a slow halt, and I rose from my seat and began the attempt to collect my baggage. Malfoy stood at the same time and removed his bag from the rack then stood simply staring at me for a moment before he removed my trunk from the rack as well.

As I was about to pick up my trunk he pulled out his wand, and pointed it at me.

"What do you" I was cut off as he murmured a weightless charm on my trunk then on his own. I was stunned, had Malfoy just done another kind thing? For me? He was actually acting human.

As I was about to thank him, he opened the compartment door and strutted out, his usual arrogance visible in every step. I followed his lead and also made my way out of the compartment and into the vast sea of students returning to Hogwarts.

Somehow I managed to acquire my own carriage and successfully avoid my friends all at the same time. I was planning on skipping the feast and heading strait to the heads dorms; the dorms were located in a west facing tower and could be reached by traveling through many secret passageways. Though only the two heads and the headmaster knew the password to the portrait protecting them.

As Hermione excited the carriage, she was spotted by none other than Ginny Weasley, who immediately notified Harry and Ron. The trio was soon heading her way, smiling and waving in the process. It was too late to make a run for it now; the confrontation after all could probably be avoided until after dinner.