CHAPTER 1

Draco gently pushed open the door, and walked into the common room. As usual, it was immaculately tidied, and looked as thought it had photographed from a page of a Good Housekeeping Magazine. The small table was pushed in between the two oyster gray armchairs, sheaves of parchment were piled neatly on it, and the desk at the far end was completely cleared, with only a ceramic pen stand on its shiny surface. The fire had been lit, and a fluffy cream rug was pulled beside it. The stairs leading up to their separate dormitories were spotless.

She had even filled a blue vase with begonias and kept them on the mantelpiece.

Obviously, something was very, very wrong with Hermione Granger.

He smiled, and settled down in one of the armchairs. He had hidden a slim porno magazine, that one of his friends had found at a Muggle newspaper shop, under the cushion, and with the Common Room seemingly empty, it seemed the perfect time to take it out. As he did so, he found himself wondering exactly where Granger was. It was nine at night, and she hadn't shown up for dinner. He had assumed she had been studying over here. But surprisingly, she was nowhere to be found.

When Dumbledore had announced that as Heads, they would have to share a common room, he had been horrified. So had his friends. Pansy, especially had seen elements of her impending doom on the whole situation. Blaise was the only one who had found it funny.

'She'll keep you on your toes,' he had chortled, 'It'll be like World War III. What would I not give to be there?'

'You're balls,' Draco had snarled. 'And since I'm sure we both share that sentiment, I think you should shut up.'

'A common bathroom, even. You won't be leaving any towels on the floor anymore, Drake.'

'Look, here, Blaise-.'

'And how are you going to take girls into your room at night? Not, of course, that any girl would want that privilege. Except- well, Pansy would be happy to oblige.'

'Blaise, shut up!'

And so it had continued.

But surprisingly, living with Granger hadn't proved to be that bad. As disgusted as he had been originally, she had made every attempt to avoid him and he had returned the favor. After a month of the funny run-and-hide-when-you-see-them-coming games, both had grown weary and become a little more comfortable with each other. Draco enjoyed the way he could always come back to a neat and sparkling Common Room, although he often doubted her sanity as far her habitual cleaning was concerned. He had even begun to pick up his towels and stack his books so as not to infuriate her to the extent of putting her off the cleaning. As far as he was concerned, it was like having a house-elf for the meager payment of being polite to them.

Well- not polite, exactly, he had to admit. More like not rude. They were not rude to each other. And for Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger, that was certainly something. Of late, they had even developed the habit of sitting in their armchairs after dinner and catching up on some homework together.

Not that they talked, or anything. Neither went out of their way to seem overly polite.

Still, he mused, as he flipped another page and another glorious blonde sex bunny beamed at him, it was much better than he expected. Everything was rosy except Blaise's constant teasing.

So where exactly was Granger right now?

Things seemed quiet. He carefully tucked his magazine under the cushion and tiptoed up the stairs that led to her dorm. The door was tightly shut. The keyhole had been stuffed with paper, not allowing a chink of light to escape. Obviously, if she was in there, she didn't want visitors, and nothing would irritate her more than if he knocked.

He knocked.

'What?' she snapped, her voice muffled through the door. 'What do you want?'

Ah. So she was inside.

'It's me,' he called through.

'Well, duh. What do you want Malfoy. I'm busy.'

'Just checking if you were there.' He paused. 'What are you doing?'

'I'm- I'm- brushing my teeth!'

Draco doubled back.

'What? What did you say you were doing?'

The door flung open, and a very irate Hermione with hair standing on end, wearing a blue bathrobe and a foaming mouth stood there. She held a toothbrush in her right hand.

'I- said- I'm- bwushing mwy teeth!' she snapped.

'Ah,' he said, doubtfully. 'Okay then, you do that. Bye.'

He crossed the stairs and went back to his armchair. Time for old porno again.

Really. Something was wrong with her.

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