Hey guys! Terribly sorry for the wait between chapters, writers block and all. Not that there are hoards of readers staring at the story wishing it to update or anything, but ah well. So, here it is. Nothing too yippee, setting up for a hopefully soon-coming fourth chapter. Enjoy and comment! =D

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 3: Nightmares, Awake and Asleep

He spun around, his loose robes swirling about his feet. The face in the mirror vanished and reappeared moving very quickly in Hermione's direction. She couldn't move, so she stood there, paralyzed, while he covered the distance between them in three long strides-

Hermione sat bolt upright, smacking her head on the bunk above her.

Uttering a swear that would have made Ron proud, she flopped back onto her pillow, her heart still racing, and covered her eyes with the back of her hand.

This did not help in the least. His eyes still gazed out at her from the darkness, mournful and broken.

* * *

Something was poking Hermione, hard, on the shoulder. She swatted at it, but the blasted thing wouldn't stop. "What?!?"

"Erm… Hermione? I'm hungry…"

She sighed, refusing to open her eyes quite yet, and mumbled, "Ronald, did you have to wake me up to tell me this?"

"Well… I can't eat with you using me for a pillow."

Hermione finally did open her eyes, and realized that she did indeed have her head buried in Ron's shoulder.

Quickly righting herself, she smoothed her hair, which didn't help much, and blushed down at her pancakes.

Caught napping on Ronald. How dignified.

Rubbing her eyes, she mentally hexed Malfoy and all his bloody problems, which evidently had now become hers. Those wonderful dreams in which she relived that oh-so-fun evening in the bathroom had been disrupting her sleep for the last three days. It had gotten so bad she was on the verge of brewing up a dreamless sleep potion.

At least there were no classes today, so she wouldn't wake up to find herself snoozing in her cauldron.

Excusing herself from the table, she left the boys to go to their Quidditch practice. She herself made a quick stop, or as quick a trek up to the seventh floor could be, to pick up a few books and then headed for her spot on the castle grounds.

"Her spot" was a giant willow, not the Whomping Willow, of course, that had grown to create sort of an alcove next to the lake. It was perfect for a nice, secluded day of studying.

Hermione settled herself in a niche between two roots and cracked open her ancient runes book, loving the scent of the paper as it combined with the smells the light breeze carried. The grass. The flowers growing on the opposite bank. The -

Hermione wrinkled her nose. There was a distinct smell of expensive cologne infiltrating her nice, natural mix of scents.

It was a sweet, spicy musk that reminded her of something she couldn't quite think of at the moment. Perhaps cinnamon. It wouldn't have been a bad smell, except that it announced the presence of someone else in her little hollow.

Sure enough, the crackle of leaves reached her ears, and a pair of black Quidditch boots appeared between the shifting willow branches. Black with green laces.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake…" Hermione muttered. As a Gryffindor, and the best friend of both the seeker and keeper of the team that had beaten Slytherin in so many matches, being caught in a secluded corner of the grounds by someone from the Slytherin team was probably not among the best of ideas.

Angrily abandoning her book, she clumsily hauled herself up into the higher branches. "Of all the… Ugh."

And so, balanced uncomfortably in a y-shaped branch, Hermione waited for the intruder to either pass by or go away.

Unfortunately, he had no such intentions, and proceeded to not only enter the alcove, but to sit directly beneath her, in HER spot.

And on top of all this, this Slytherin-clad someone just had to be Draco Malfoy. The ferret himself. And he looked like he wasn't going to budge for a long while.