(Beware, this one may be a bit emotional for some people.)

Hermione's POV

I'm sitting in the library, in my usaul corner, reading a book. I get lost in the story until I feel a presence in front of me. I shut my book and look up to see who it is. It's Draco, Draco Malfoy. Recently I've learned more about him and his family so I became his friend. "Hello Draco," I greet. "Hello Hermione, I need to talk to you, about something important," he replies seriously. "Okay," I answer, nodding. He looks around, probably to make sure that no one is listening. He sits down in a chair across from me, streching his arms out on the table in between us. "You know how a lot of my family members are death eaters, right?" He asks, staring directly into my eyes. "Yes, and?" I ask, staring back into his eyes. "So, because of that, I'm sort of destined to become one myself," he continues, a look of regret in his eyes. "Yeah, but you don't necessarily have to," I reply. "That's what you think, but I'd have to suffer serious consequences if I were to restrain from becoming one," he replies, breaking our stare. "Oh," I say, not really knowing how to respond. But I want to know what he's trying to tell me so I'll ask. "So what's your point?" I ask. He looks down at his outstretched arms and moves his right hand to the end of his left sleeve. He pulls it up slowly, revealing a dark mark, or the symbol meaning that you're a death eater. I gasp, anger building up inside me. I know that he notices my growing anger. "I had to, I had no choice," he says, as if trying to calm my anger. "I know, and I'm so sorry that you had to become one," I reply, my anger fading, pity taking it's place. He pulls his sleeve back down, remaining silent. His head is right over the table, so I can't see his expression right now. The table has a light green tablecloth and I notice a droplet of water appear on it, right under Draco's face. Then I realize it, he's crying. "Draco..." I start, trying to think of something comforting to say. "Don't even try to say something to cheer me up, because it'll only make things worse," he says, looking up from the table to look directly at me, tears streaming down his face. I stand up and push in my chair. I know what he needs, something he probably has never had, affection, comfort. I walk slowly to his seat and kneel down beside him. "I'm sorry," is all I can think of to say that won't upset him. He turns his seat so he can face me. I lean forward and hug him, wanting to desperately make him feel better. I feel him stiffen up, probably from shock, but he slowly relaxes. He hesitantly wraps his arms around me, returning my hug. "Thank you," he whispers. I smile to myself and refuse to let go of him. He needs this, he needs this comfort, at least once.

Draco's POV

I recently became a deatheater and I want to tell someone, someone who will understand, Hermione Granger. I suspect that she's in the library so I make my way there. I enter the library and scan the room, looking for Hermione. I spot her in a corner, her usaul spot. I approach her and stand across from the table she's sitting at. She closes her book and looks up at me. "Hello Draco," she greets. "Hello Hermione, I need to talk to you, about something important," I reply seriously. "Okay," she answers, nodding. I look around, to make sure that no one is listening. I sit down in a chair across from her, streching my arms out on the table in between of her and I. "You know how a lot of my family members are death eaters, right?" I ask, staring directly into her eyes. "Yes, and?" She asks, staring back into my eyes. "So because of that, I'm sort of destined to become one myself," I continue, a feeling of regret building up inside of me. "Yeah, but you don't necessarily have to," she replies. "That's what you think, but I'd have to suffer serious consequences if I were to restrain from becoming one," I reply, breaking our stare. "Oh," She says, probably not really knowing how to respond. "So what's your point?" She asks. I look down at my outstretched arms and move my right hand to the end of my left sleeve. I pull it up slowly, revealing my dark mark, the symbol meaning that I'm a death eater. She gasps, and I can tell that there's anger building up inside her. I want her to calm down, to not be so angry. "I had to, I had no choice," I say, trying to calm her anger. "I know, and I'm so sorry that you had to become one," She replies, her anger fading, pity taking it's place, it seems like. I pull my sleeve back down, remaining silent. My head is right over the table, so she can't see my expression right now. I don't want her to see my expression anyway, because I'm crying. I watch my tears fall onto the light green tablecloth on the table. "Draco.." She starts, probably trying to think of something comforting to say. "Don't even try to say something to cheer me up, because it'll only make things worse," I say, looking up from the table to look directly at her, tears streaming more rapidly down my face. She stands up and pushes in her chair. I wonder what she's going to do. She walks slowly to my seat and kneels down beside me. "I'm sorry," She says. I turn my seat so I can face her. She leans forward and hugs me, probably wanting to make me feel better. I stiffen up, from shock, but I slowly relax. I hesitantly wrap my arms around her, returning her hug. "Thank you," I whisper. She continues to hug me, refusing to let go. I need this, I need this comfort, at least once.