Disclaimer: If you're looking for who owns Harry Potter, it's not this person
Snap. In only a moment's time, Draco and the Golden Trio's own Miss Granger were magically transported to their dormitory door, which was a painting of a young blonde. She vainly twisted her curly hair around her finger, proudly checking her reflection in the painted mirror she held. Draco frowned. It reminded him of a painting of his mother when she was young that hung in the Manor. She, of course, didn't act that way, and his mother was even more beautiful.
An engraved metal plaque hung above the portrait-hole that read, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger. He was not completely thrilled with this arrangement, but he held his breath and tried not to complain too loudly. He was lucky to even be allowed inside these walls, after the War and... everything.
Just as McGonagall read off Granger's name, he truthfully was ready to pity anyone stuck with her. Unless they were the type that would enjoy late nights with a panicky essay-writer, or their 'fake spouse' in the library at all hours of the waking day. Not to mention the constant company of Scarhead and the Weasel to enjoy.
But even Granger didn't deserve a leech like McLaggen. Draco was only so lucky to be a boy, with all these good looks, if he were a girl, McLaggen would have been all over him. When he felt that spark of pity for the famous bushy-headed witch for being stuck with Cormac, he definitely was not hoping for his name to be read out instead.
Now, here he was, standing right next to her and forced to spend the whole next school year in close proximity. With his reputation with the teachers, and also Granger's now, too, judging by McGonagall's response to her little outburst, neither of them would get anywhere politely requesting different rooming arrangements.
Draco frowned again, then turned and quickly assessed the surroundings. Around the room, the signs that hung above the doors announced that they were in this group along with Blaise Zabini and Cho Chang, Weasel and the whiny brat Lavender, and Scarhead and Weaselette. What a great gang. Thankfully, he at least had fellow Slytherin Blaise to lean on for his sanity.
"Well," said Granger, breaking the miserable silence. "We need a password."
"... So?" Draco drawled, staring at the portrait hole in front of them. The blonde was now applying blush to her cheekbones, only giving a careful glance at the couple.
"So?" The Gryffindor returned. "We need a password. How about something easy to remember, like... say, 'Scorpius,' the constellation."
"No, I don't like that. How about... 'Mudblood'?" Malfoy suggested, smirking, and he could see from the corner of his vision Granger's hand twitching, obviously fighting back the urge to slap him just like she did in the third year. The way her face got all red and her knees locked up was humorous. It was so easy to make her mad.
"What about, 'great bouncing ferret'?" she shot back, glaring daggers at him.
"'Know-it-all'." Her face looked like it was about to explode now. This was too easy.
"'Loathsome, foul, evil cockroach'."
"No, I've not heard that one before," he said sarcastically. "How about, 'Bushy-haired, buck-toothed Granger'?" Her fists tightened.
"'Death Eater'," she spat out, and Draco's jaw clenched. He did not like that name. At that moment, he hated Granger for using that name. He turned to her and stared her down.
"You will never use that name for me again, Mudblood. Do it, and you may find yourself breathing your last breaths."
Granger was quick. In the matter of one blink, the tip of her wand was pressed against Draco's chest, and the girl's eyes burned like a blazing wildfire.
"Don't you dare try anything," she growled. "If you make one wrong move, Malfoy, I swear, you will be gone from this school, and possibly the entire wizarding world." She pressed harder on the wand. "I will never stop absolutely hating you for every little thing you've ever done, but let's both try to survive this year, alright? I'll try to refrain from getting expelled for murder."
"Well, it's not like I love you now or anything, Granger, but I did apologize for my behavior in my younger days. Publicly. That's why I'm here. I thought we were over that now," Draco answered, pushing Granger's wand off of his chest.
"Just because your daddy's in jail and you and your mother got the pity of the Ministry doesn't make you any less of a prick."
"I thought you said you wanted to play nice, Granger."
The Gryffindor glared coldly at her partner. "I just can't believe I'm stuck with you. Of all the things for McGonagall to do—"
"It's the stupidest?" Draco interjected, crossing his arms.
Granger snorted. "Yes, just that."
"Um... Are you going to choose a password or not?" cried the portrait impatiently.
"The password is 'stupid class project.'" Malfoy said to the painting. The portait immediately clicked open.
"You going?" Draco asked, gesturing for Granger to enter first. With another dirty look, she stepped inside the portrait hole, and Draco followed, only to be welcomed into the smallest, most peasant-like living space Draco had ever been inside. The first thing he noticed were the plain white walls and wood floor. A rather plain brown-and-tan loveseat couch pushed against one side. A cream rug. A coffee table. Draco planted his feet and stared at the room. No more large, luxurious Slytherin commons.
Granger was already in the next room. Draco wandered down the hall, which opened up to a kitchen and dining area. Granger was poking through cabinets and corners, so he surveyed the room and turned around. He sauntered over to the other hallway on the right. The farthest door in the hall was a bathroom. Inside was a toilet, two sinks, and a shower and large bathtub. Good enough.
"Where's our luggage?" asked Hermione as she walked past him down the hallway.
"Why are you talking to me?" Draco quipped under his breath.
"Shut up," the Gryffindor huffed, examining the other doors in the hallway. "Are these the bedrooms?" She opened the first, unopened door in the hall.
"In here?" She disappeared inside, and Draco begrudgingly followed. He almost bumped into her back as she stood in the doorway, frozen.
"Bedroom, in the singular sense," she muttered, staring at the two twin beds that rested against opposite walls of light blue, with suitcases and trunks in a stack in the middle of the carpeted floor. Joy. They didn't care enough to separate the bedrooms. From the furious look on her face, Granger didn't look exactly thrilled either.
"There's got to be another room." She pushed past Draco and tried the last door across the hall. It was just a supply closet. "Oh, no, no, no," she groaned, stepping into the bedroom once again.
"This is horrible," she grumbled, lunging for her gray suitcase and tossing it onto one of the beds.
"Excuse me, Granger, what if I wanted that bed?" Draco complained, standing from leaning against the doorframe.
"So? You can have the other one."
"But... I want that one."
"You can have the other one."
"I don't want that one."
"They're the exact same!"
"I still want that one."
"Too bad."
"I want that one, there."
"The other one's yours, Malfoy."
"I want that one."
"What is so good about this bed that you can't take that one?"
"I just want it."
"Ugh! You are impossible!" Granger screamed, feebly chucking a pillow from her bed at him. It bounced off of his crossed arms and landed on the floor.
"Good job, you threw a pillow. Now, I want that bed."
"Why is it so important you get this bed?"
"I don't need to give you reasons, Granger."
"Guess what? I'm not giving it up!"
"Yes, you are."
"No, I'm not."
"I want that bed."
"No. I'm not moving."
"Fine," Draco resigned. He whipped out his wand from his pocket and levitated Granger's suitcase, dropping it on the opposite bed.
"No!" she yelled, taking out her wand and moving her bag back to her claimed spot.
"Yes!" The luggage flew across the room again.
"No!" Back.
"Yes!" Forth.
"No!" Back.
"Yes!" Forth.
"No!" Back - and right into the sky-colored wall, where the suitcase zipper broke, spilling its contents onto the bed: numerous books and various articles of clothing. Granger face turned bright pink as she quickly used a cleaning spell to fit it back inside. Exhaling through puffed cheeks, she turned on her heel towards Draco.
"You will take that bed and that's final. Argue, and I'll curse you into oblivion in your sleep." She set up a magic soundproof protective bubble around her bed and started unpacking, leaving the room silent. Really, Draco had only wanted that bed because he slept on his right side, and he'd rather face the wall than towards Gryffindor Granger. But he guessed it was fine that he was facing towards her, maybe he could catch her easier if she ever attempted to murder him in his sleep.
Draco slid his trunk under his bed with a simple charm, then began unpacking. A closet door occupied the empty wall, and it was a nice-sized walk-in closet. His robes and suits Mother had bought him for this year fit nicely into the space.
In about five minutes, Draco was completely finished. Granger was still in her soundproof bubble, calmly putting things away in her closet by hand. Feeling daring, Draco walked up to the wavering edge of her magical wall and poked it. He pulled back as a tiny electrical shock went through his arm. There was no getting to her.
Exhausted, the tired Slytherin threw himself onto the bouncy mattress of his bed. It was trimmed with crisp white sheets, a black silk down comforter, and two fluffy pillows that, as demonstrated earlier, would be of no use in pillow fights as they caused no harm.
He lay there as he would in the Manor when he was younger and dreamed up plans to annoy Granger, little things that would drive her bushy little head mad -
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Sighing, he pulled himself up and walked to the living room. He was used to House-Elves attending to these sort of things.
"Yes?" he asked, opening the door. McGonagall stood with a clipboard in her hands.
"All students will meet in the Dungeons in a half-hour for an activity. Stay with your partner, and be seated next to them as the activity will be with them. Remember that three tardies make a detention." The old witch left to bang on the next door.
When Draco came back into the bedroom, the bubble was gone and Granger was sitting on her bed, unpacking textbooks from a trunk. He looked at her.
"We have to meet in the Dungeons in 30 minutes for an activity," he announced, sitting on his bed as well. Granger only momentarily glanced up from her organizing.
"All right," she mumbled, returning to her books. It was silent in the room for minutes.
"So... can I have that bed?" Draco asked.
"No," Granger sighed. "No."