Hermione woke to the sounds of hushed snores and deep breathing. This would be like the beginning of a normal morning in the tower of Hogwarts that had become her second home. She lay on her front, the bedding feeling silkier and of better quality than normal, something was different. Suddenly as the effects of sleep wore away into the recesses of her brain she understood and jolted in surprise. Holding her breath she reached her fingers to the side of her ribs. No bra. She ran her fingers to her hipbones. No underwear. Something else dawned upon her as she lay in the dark. A weight was pressing against the small of her naked back. She was in bed with someone.
This wasn't her first time but she had never been so stupid as to sleep with someone in her common room, her roommate Lavender Brown would never let her hear the end of it. With bated breath she turned slowly so as not to disturb the person lying next to her in the bed. His breath stirred her frizzy brown curls and she could feel his fair, downy arm hair against her bare back. The thick curtains of the Hogwarts four poster beds were so thick that her only sign that it was early morning was the magical cockerel crow that professor McGonagall channelled to each dormitory at dawn so that no matter the season they had a sign should they wish it.
After the war several changes had taken place at Hogwarts and she marvelled at the freedom that the eighth years were allowed. The restriction upon boys entering the girls' dormitory had been lifted so long as verbal consent was offered. Hermione had given her consent at the beginning of the year for both Harry and Ron to enter her rooms should they need her at any time in the year and so far that worked fine so long as they knocked before opening the door. If they barged in or if Hermione was not present the stairs once again turned into a steep spiral slide and deposited them rather unceremoniously into the common room. Ron and Hermione had agreed upon their return to Hogwarts in the September, after helping fix the damage of the war that they would return to being only good friends, as a relationship had not really suited either of them very well. At the thoughts of her friends she once again tried to discern the identity of her mysterious partner, would it be one of their Gryffindor roommates? However the light was so dim that she could not see him. She moved a little more so that she could crack a curtain open when she heard him mumble next to her.
She flicked the curtain quickly and, although it shut once again, that one moment of blinding light gave her a recognisable feature that made her insides squirm. She shut her eyes and shook her head. No,no,no! Please, dear God, let it be a trick of the light and let it be Seamus or Neville or Dean. Anyone but him! She took a shuddering gasp as she opened her eyes.
"Malfoy?" she whispered in slight disgust.
"Granger?" he whispered back, cementing in her mind his identity. She took a deep breath ready to scream but before she could his firm hand covered her mouth.
"No Granger. Do you really want everyone to know we are in bed together?" he asked incredulously. Hermione shook herself for her momentary lapse in judgement. She thought back to the night before and found only a fuzzy blur of colours.
When Malfoy finally released her mouth after she nodded that she was not going to imitate a banshee she spoke quietly while trying to scoot a little further away from him, aware that his arm was still lazily thrown across her waist as if he was unaware of the invasion of her personal bubble.
"How much did I drink last night? Do you remember anything?" She asked him. Through a sudden fear of capture in enemy territory Malfoy only shook his head not daring to whisper back. He had no idea where he was but if he was in a Gryffindor's dormitory he would most likely be carted off to Azkaban for questioning about his tainting of The Golden Lioness. Potter and the Weasel would kill him in the most painful ways imaginable and then find some way to bring him back so that they could do it again. This was not good and her could tell this was going to be a major problem for him.
"We both must have got really intoxicated but I have no hangover." Draco stated quietly trying to sound more professional as if this wasn't getting to him at all. Hermione said something about her hangover prevention spell she had come up with when in complete exasperation at Ron's drinking phase to celebrate the end of the war. Draco tried to peer down at the witch next to him in hopes of looking at her face to see if she looked any different. Blaise had said that when her had slept with the girl he loved, and hoped to propose to when he had a job that proved to her muggle father and witch mother that his death eater days were well and truly behind him, she had seemed to radiate more hope and warmth than the sun ever could. Why did he suddenly hope that when he saw Granger she would have changed in that way? That would mean that he would want to prove his worth to her muggle parents and could he ever truly disrespect his father's memory in that way? The war is over. If you marry a pure blood the ministry will probably sterilize you both in fear that you'll procreate like bunnies and create the new dark side. A voice had developed in Draco after the war that told him when he was thinking too dangerously. He felt his face drain a little when he realised that the voice sounded very much like that of a bossy know-it-all mudbl-you can't say that anymore! Draco grimaced.
A loud snorting snore ripped through the tension between them both and Draco felt a smirk curling his features. Goyle. They were in the Slytherin common room.
"Granger?" she whispered that she was listening, "I know where we are and I know how to get you out."
"Get me out? You mean I'm in your common room?" her voice rose several octaves and he suddenly felt his stomach sink to his toes and his skin crawl as if she had cast agaumenti upon him and doused him in an icy blast of water. Hermione Granger, the greatest witch of their age and a war hero, was afraid of him. She's in a room full of supposedly ex-Death Eaters. That voice reminded him.
"It's ok. I can get you out." He flicked the curtain aside and checked that his roommates were asleep. Picking out each of their distinctive snores he peered around for some discarded clothes and saw some black material peeking from under his bed.
"Did you wear black last night?" Hermione nodded as she clutched the green silk cover his mother had bought him to her chest. He picked it up and frowned as he noticed that it was ripped. "Can you mend clothes?" When she shook her head he turned and picked up one of his best set of robes and her underwear and lacy bra, he pinched the latter between thumb and finger in hopes of avoiding as much embarrassment as possible. He handed her the underwear and she turned from him to retain as much modesty as she could. As she did so, keeping her feet tucked up so as not to disrupt the curtains on her side, Draco let his gaze drift over her pale skin. The Hogwarts robes really did her no justice. Her pale legs were slender and dusted with light freckles like her shoulders and arms. Her frizzy hair looked like a halo as the green tinted light from the lake rolled over it, drawing his attention to the natural curl to her hair that he had never noticed before. When she was dressed again she turned to him and asked what they were going to do next. He heard Blaise mumble and knew that he would have to make her leave quickly but also that he couldn't leave her mostly naked.
"Put this robe on and shove all of your hair in the hood." She nodded as she took the fine material in her hand. This was one of his best robes, she could tell because there was a minute Malfoy crest of arms in the inside and the embroidery alone must have taken months, not to mention that the material was such good quality she doubted that she could afford an inch square of it let alone enough material to make a large robe with hood.
She did as he bade and hid her hair beneath the glorious material. As he sat on the bed facing her in a pair of boxers that she didn't remember him wearing before she let her hidden eyes rake over his Quidditch ready body. His body was made of fine sinew, a perfect Seeker build. She had watched him fly before, astonished by his ability to make it look graceful, she couldn't raise a foot in the air on a broom. As she gazed at his muscular arms the colour of milk she saw it. The Dark Mark. Without thinking she reached out and grazed the marked skin with her fingertips. It was raised and bumpy like it had been made by repeatedly carving it into the skin of his forearm.
He lurched away almost falling from the bed but catching himself before he could. She expected fury but he looked away with his eyes glistening in the light. His platinum hair falling in his eyes without the gel the former Draco Malfoy had used so much. The sun shone from behind him but was slightly dimmer that the autumnal sun always seemed in Gryffindor tower. He looked celestial and tortured at the same time and Hermione felt a lurch in her ribs. Could she actually be feeling sympathy for him? No, that's absurd.
"Come on Granger." He breathed. One of the boys was rustling a lot more and she could tell he was scared that someone would find out. Was she that repugnant? He took her hand and took her to the dormitory door where he grabbed one of the cloaks hung on an old hook on the wall. Swiftly they walked in almost companionable silence through the Slytherin common room and through many of the corridors. Soon Hermione felt she needed to speak.
"I'm sorry." She saw Malfoy's eyes widen beside her and smiled in the depths of the cloak.
"What on earth are you apologising to me for?" he said.
"You were tortured weren't you." She said it matter-of-factly. "But no one cares because they think you chose your path. I just wanted you to know that some one cares. Bellatrix tortured me but you were at the mercy of her and Voldemort for a year if not more." He looked at her in awed silence trying to find her chocolate eyes in the depths of the hood. Just as he had formulated a suitable answer, containing just enough snide comments to still retain some Malfoy charm, she stopped and gestured to a painting of an abnormally large woman dressed in a gown of pale pink.
Malfoy wanted to show his gratitude but didn't know what to do about it. As he saw that the Fat Lady hadn't been woken yet this morning he dared to lower her hood. She looked a little scared and her eyes were large. He could imagine losing himself in their depths. But that was stupid. He used to be a Death Eater and this is HERMIONE GRANGER! He took her cheeks in his hands softly and kissed her forehead lightly.
Before she could say anything he was gone. Had she dreamed it?