Mudblood and Pureblood.

Not always a Bad Boy.

Hermione couldn't believe she had asked Draco Malfoy to tutor her in flying a broom. She could think of at least a hundred people who would be willing to do the same. But she wasn't just there to learn to fly, ever since she had read that letter and realized they were the reason he was crying, she understood that maybe he didn't want to be the way he was. At least, if he gave her the chance, she might be able to help.

She was nervous to say the least when she was on her way to the Quidditch Pitch. What if she got there and Malfoy had brought all his friends to come and laugh at her? She guessed she would just have to trust him. She still felt bitter from all the times he had called her a mudblood, but she was Hermione. She gave people second chances.

She took Harry's Firebolt out of the closet and walked onto the grass. She saw him. He was still sluggish and kind of shy. Was he embarrassed? Did he still think that she would tell anyone? Even though she thought that being forced to become a Deatheater was bad, she found it cruel that his father was making him one, she wouldn't tell. He obviously didn't want to become one. She now knew that Malfoy wasn't exactly like his father. That was a start...

"Malfoy." She walked over to him.

"Mudblood..." He again sounded shy and closed off, what had happened to his Bad Boy reputation?

"I didn't actually think you would show up... Or at least I thought you would bring your friends to laugh at me..." She saw him look at his feet absently.

"I thought you might tell if I didn't come..." He admitted sheepishly.

"Well... You're just going to have to trust me with that secret. But trust works both ways... I trust that you show up and you can talk to me, and I will show up and talk to you..."

After a few minutes of silence, he nodded slowly before mounting his Nimbus 2001. Hermione went to do the same, but he put a hand out for her to wait. He told her how she should grip it, so as not to fall off and how to position herself when moving.

Draco pushed off slowly from the grass and hovered a few metres above Hermione. She tried to do the same, but ended up hanging upside down. Draco chuckled. It wasn't his usual haunting laugh, it was a genuine show of amusement. Hermione had no idea he had such a sweet laugh when you stripped away the audience.

By the end of the evening, she had finally learnt how to stay balanced, even if it only was for a few seconds before she felt off. When they finally called it a day, Draco had a warm smile on his face.

They went to part ways when he heard Hermione come up to him again. What did she want?

"Talk to me whenever you want... I know you need to get something off your chest..." With that she slipped away to the storage room with the Firebolt in hand, leaving Draco in the middle of the field.

He didn't know what to feel. He knew that she was right, he did need to talk to someone. He couldn't tell his 'friends' because they all had parents that were Deatheaters, and most of them were looking forward to the day they were ready. Hermione was the only one who knew about it and she hadn't told anyone yet. Maybe it wasn't so bad after all, the idea of talking to her.

What was wrong with him? He slapped his hand to his face. You are a Malfoy, you don't go around galavanting with mudbloods! But she had seen his vulnerable side and she wasn't making fun of him. Was that what it was like to have a proper friend? Someone who shares secrets with you and keeps your own? Wow. Maybe he would give it a go. First things first, he knew why she had been reluctant at the beginning. He had called her a mudblood...

***

"Where were you last night Hermione?" Harry looked at her puzzlingly as he took a bite out of his toast.

She had lost track of time, and when she had got back into Griffindor Tower, everyone had gone up to bed. She herself had then done the same.

"The library..." She trailed off, trying to sound convincing.

It obviously worked, she usually was studying anyways. Owls started to fly overhead, dropping letters and parcels into their owner's hands. She got her usual copy of the Daily Prophet. Then another letter dropped in front of her. Curious, she picked it up and her eyes widened when she read it in her head.

' I never got to thank you for keeping my secret. So, thank you. I also would appreciate talking to you, like you offered, it would help a great deal. I also would like to apologize. I am sorry for calling you mudblood, I realized that you have been nothing but kind to me. I hope we can forget the past between us...

Draco.'

"Hermione, are you ok, you seem a bit red, are you feeling all right?" Ron leaned over the table to get a good look at her.

She was indeed a bit flustered. She had turned a shade of pink as she blushed at the letter. Who knew that Draco Malfoy would be capable of apologies? At least he was willing to talk, if he did, maybe she would be able to understand him better. Maybe then they would have a shot at being friends.

"I- um... I'm fine!" She stuttered, stuffing the letter into her bag and hurrying out of the Great Hall.

Harry and Ron just watched her go, unsure of what to make of that incident. Hermione didn't know why she was blushing. She just scurried off to her first class.