Title: The Guest

Rated: M

Summary: Death Eaters are on the hunt to kill a traitor and in the mean time; the traitor makes himself comfortable in Hermione Granger's home.

Chapter 1

She strained her eyes apart. This was definitely not working out. Sleep tonight was hopeless. In a futile attempt, she patted her pillows and positioned herself in a ball with one pillow between her legs. Minutes later, she groaned knowing that any effort to sleep was highly impossible. She gazed at the bright red alarm clock and read the time: two in the morning. Once again, she gave a groan. She might as well get up and read a book for the rest of the night. Reading books were the only option she had after a restless night and besides she needed to catch up on some of her paper work at the Magical Law Enforcement Department.

She threw off the covers and slipped into her fluffy slippers. On her way towards the door, her reflection through the wall mirror stopped her. Her hair was in a mess beyond repair due to her tossing and turning on the bed. Being the self-conscious person that she was, Hermione Granger tied her hair back in a loose bun with a black hair-tie lying on her dressing table. She gave a small smile to hide the depression brought upon her for the night and left the room. She walked quietly, trying to not disturb anyone else from their sleep as she made her way to the small study hall. The door must have been closed because she ended up slamming against it due to the dark hallway. Hermione let out a silent curse as she stumbled back.

"Merlin, watch where you're bloody going Granger," someone sneered.

Hermione's eyes narrowed as an outline of the last person she wanted to stumble across came to view. It wasn't the door that she had collided against but his hard chest. With that acknowledgement, first thing she wanted to do was wrap her slim fingers around his neck and choke him to death but that was not going to happen.

She had to keep herself composed as she politely asked, "what are you doing out here?" She wanted to add, "Was sleeping on the couch not at your suitable taste?" remembering how much he argued with her for an hour why he should get her bed and she sleep on the floor. As if Hermione would ever allow that to happen. She would have offered to transfigure the couch into a bed, since his wand was withheld but having him around was enough to get her arrogant side out. Too bad, she thought, if he wasn't in bad terms with her she wouldn't mind lending him her bed.

"Couldn't sleep so here I am," he sighed before entering the study room, Hermione right behind. She couldn't believe what she was hearing, she was the one who wanted to spend some time in the study room and read. After all, he was the one keeping her up and he was planning to irritate her further by being in the same room as her?

She wanted to scream. All horrid thoughts of slaughtering the king of vanity alone could not help the fact that she was stuck with him. Since when did protecting a brute become an obligation? It was Draco Malfoy after all, the only person that could single-handedly boil her blood over a hundred degrees Celsius. Wasn't that fact alone enough for Albus Dumbledore to hand him off to someone else? Did Dumbledore want her to go insane by morning? That must be the only possible reason he gave her the duty to take care of Malfoy. Taking care of someone like him consisted of head-aches and a soar throat by the next day, surely Dumbledore must have been out of his wits.

Even though Hermione cursed under her breath and avoided any eye contact from the brute that sat on the arm chair, it didn't change the fact she was to protect him. No one outside of the Order of The Phoenix could know of his residence at her apartment. He was to reside here until Mad Eye Moody came for him in the morning. And since she had to deal with his existence for eight hours, she decided to drop her utter defiance of the idea to settle him in for the night.

Hermione was no entertainer and in no mood to converse with Malfoy. Therefore, the only option they both had was to call it a night early when they got to her place. But that alone couldn't change her lack of sleep tonight. Having Malfoy in the same place caused a nervous breakdown. Whether she liked it or not, she didn't want him in the hands of Death Eaters who were searching for him, to kill. And even if he gave her enough problems, protecting innocent people –however odd it is to place his name under it– was her duty. She noticed his piercing eyes on her as she glanced through titles on her small bookshelf. Once her back was to him, she gave a shudder –a delayed reaction– to his glare. She couldn't understand how he could be so obnoxious by just watching her. What a terrible guest to have, she thought.

She was unable to find fresh new material to read, so she lazily picked up Notable Magical Names of Our Times. Instantly she found herself enthralled by the book as she found herself a seat on the couch, farthest away from Malfoy. Half way down the page, she heard a creaking sound and looked up. She found Malfoy leaning back on the chair raising the front two legs up as he watched her. Hermione considered that childish and quickly gazed away. She didn't even finish a sentence when she heard that sound once more. This time not looking up she asked, "Can you please stop that?"

"Stop what?" Malfoy replied innocently. Hermione slammed the thick cover of the book shut and glared at him.

"That annoying sound you are making!" She gritted.

"What sound?" he continued.

"Malfoy, don't play stupid with me. That sound with the chair!"

"Oh, do you mean this?" he asked as he created the sound once more.

"Yes," Hermione hissed.

"No…I don't think I'll stop," he replied and continued leaning against the chair, using his one hand to stay stable against the desk. Hermione's eyes narrowed as she watched him move back and forth, over and over again. Quickly she thought of ways she could kill him and throw his body over a lake or river. Who would miss him? Certainly not his parents who were both in prison or any of his so called friends who easily baited him out the first chance they got for money.

"Granger it's inappropriate to stare at someone like that," he said self-righteously.

"I believe you shouldn't talk about inappropriate behavior when you lack in that field. I would have assumed that coming from such a disciplinary family would teach you to have manners," she replied making sure that she dragged the words. The corners of his mouth flinched, presumably fighting back a comeback, as he watched her heatedly.

"Assuming makes an ass out of you and me, so next time refrain from speaking about things that you have no knowledge in, Granger," he said calmly. She ignored him as she quickly dove back into the pages of her book. If he wanted to win this stupid argument then he will because she did not need or want a headache at this hour. As she swept away into the contents of the book, something blocked off the light source of the candle and Hermione snapped her head up to find Malfoy standing before her.

"Can I help you?"

"As a matter fact you can. I need a shower, do you have extra towels?" he asked.

Hermione slammed her book shut for the second time and got up to fetch him a towel. On her way out, she could have sworn she heard him chuckle but she couldn't figure a reason as to why he would. She found two white clean towels on the top shelf in her closet and she brought it down. Before she found her way out her room, the mirror once again halted her. She stared at herself and groaned. Not even with her hair tied could it change the fact that she looked miserable. Her extra large white t-shirt looked like it swallowed her whole and for some reason that made her feel worse. She loved her t-shirt but when she had a male company wearing nothing but a sweatshirt and boxers, she wanted to look more like a woman.

In that moment Hermione pulled her shirt over her head exposing her black panties. She had no bra on and instantly felt a cold breeze tickle her skin. She ran over to her dresser to find something appealing but still coverable. That's when she paused, what was she thinking? It was just Malfoy. And if she looked marvelous, he would turn a blind eye on her. Why was it suddenly, two in the morning, important to look more of a woman?

Hermione didn't know where these sudden thoughts popped up from but she couldn't argue against them. They were impeccably right. And in that exact moment, she ran back to her shirt on the floor but was suspended by a creaking noise. Half way leaning down, Hermione turned her head to the direction of the noise.

And her face went pale.

Standing before her, just as equally pale, was Malfoy.