Chapter 3:

The meeting with Professor McGonagall left Hermione restless and unable to concentrate in Charms class. When Flitwick's back was turned, she narrated to Harry and Ron, in hushed tones, what Professor McGonagall had told them. Upon hearing that she had to share living accommodations with Malfoy, Ron accidentally set Harry's robes on fire.

"YOU HAVE TO WHAT??"

"Ron, calm down!" Hermione hissed, extinguishing the fire which had already ruined half of Harry's robes and at the same flashing a sweet smile at Flitwick, who had turned around to find the source of the commotion.

"What do you mean calm down? You have to live with that slimy, arrogant, miserable arse–"

"Ron! Harry, what do you think?"

"Sorry, Hermione, I think Ron's right. Malfoy is a slimy, arrogant, miserable–"

"Harry, I want you to tell me what you think about me living with Malfoy, not what you think about Malfoy!"

"Oh. Seriously, 'Mione, I can't believe you have to do that…it's just inhumane to have anyone go through that kind of torture. What the hell was McGonagall thinking of? Can't you stay in the Gryffindor tower?"

Hermione shook her head despondently.

"There's nothing I can do. I even went to the point of asking if I could resign from Head Girl-ship. Apparently I can't."

Harry put his arm around Hermione's shoulder in a consoling gesture.

"Don't worry. You can just ignore him most of the time. You can hang out with us instead and go there only to sleep. And if he tries anything on you, we'll hex him for you."

Hermione smiled and gave him a quick hug, which generated a sudden wave of whispers all around the class, and suddenly Hermione had girls looking at her with murderous expressions from all corners of the room.

"Hmm, Harry, it seems that you've become even more fancy-able since you finished off Voldemort – Oh get a grip, Ronald, at least now that he's dead –last year. I can't even be near you anymore."

Harry smiled awkwardly whereas Ron turned an interesting shade of red.

The Head Common Room was a place to marvel at. The room itself was large and spacious, even though it was very well furnished. There was a fireplace right in the middle of the room which, especially, set up a very homely atmosphere. Close to the fireplace itself, large, black leather cushions, which served the purpose of sitting, arranged around a low glass table. The walls were adorned with silk banners of the four houses. There were two large windows on either side of the room which overlooked the Quidditch pitch and the Forbidden Forest.

In the far end of the room, there was a spiralling staircase which led up to the bedrooms, bathroom and study.

Hermione sighed contentedly. This was perfect. She loved it. She went up the spiralling staircase to explore the rest of the rooms. There was a long, brightly-lit hallway with many doors.

Tentatively, she opened the one closest to her. It led to a large room. It took her eyes a few seconds to get adjusted to what she was seeing. The bedspread was a gold lion printed on a red background, the pillows were red, the curtains were red and gold, the cushions on the red chaise longue in corner were golden…her room was literally decorated in red and gold – Gryffindor colours.

"Definitely my room," she said to herself, happily.

Opposite the four-poster bed at one end, there was a full length mirror and a bookshelf, which was already full of books, on another side.

"Is this it?" she mused.

Where was her wardrobe? And coming to think of it, where was her trunk?

On closer inspection, it turned out that the mirror was actually a door which led to a walk-in closet.

"Wow!"

What surprised her was less the fact that there was a walk-in wardrobe, but more that the walk-in wardrobe already contained all of her clothes – arranged exactly the way they were in her own wardrobe at home.

All of her shoes were placed in a neat and orderly fashion on the floor of the closet. The house-elves had obviously unpacked her trunk because all her school robes were hanging next to her other clothes. Impressed, Hermione was turning away, when her eye caught another smaller, inconspicuous door hidden away on one side of the closet. Upon opening it, she saw a small chamber containing–

"MY TRUNK! Finally! I've been looking for you everywhere!"

She pulled it out into the closet and opened it. Her spell-books! She sighed joyfully. At that moment, she wanted nothing more that to just sink down into one of the leather cushions in the Common Room and read her life away.

"And I'm going to do just that!" she exclaimed merrily, to no one in particular.

After changing into a casual halter top and mini shorts, she bounded down the spiral staircase, already able to feel the smooth leather against her skin. There was still an hour and half until dinner and she knew she could spend the whole time lost in a book.

But all her dreams crashed violently when she reached the bottom of the staircase. There, lounged out on the only available leather cushions were the four people she loathed the most –Draco, Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy Parkinson. Crabbe and Goyle were laughing at something Malfoy said and Pansy had draped herself all over Malfoy.

"Malfoy, what the HELL is going on here?" Hermione asked, seething with rage. All conversation stopped.

Draco, who had his back turned to her, turned around as slowly as he possible could.

"What does it look like, Granger?" he asked in a mock polite voice. "I'm socialising. Something you obviously don't know how to do."

Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy sniggered.

"You can socialize all you want in the Slytherin Common Room. This is the HEAD Common Room, Malfoy, not the Slytherin hang-out spot! I want to read my book here!"

Hermione's rage was so intensified that even her hair seemed to crackle with tension.

"Well then, you can just read in Gryffindor Common Room, no? Or better, in your OWN room! You don't have to read here. And I don't think it's against the rules to bring friends in here once in a while, is it?"

Hermione knew he had, for once in his sleazy life, outwitted her. And from the gleam in his eyes, he knew it too.

"Well, is it, Granger?" he repeated, softly, challenging her to look at him.

When she finally did, she saw triumph, the usual disgust that he associated with her, but it was mixed with something else…she couldn't exactly describe it but it looked rather like–

Lust? Was he checking her out?

Realization dawned on her. She looked up at Crabbe and Goyle who mirrored his expression, but in a cruder manner. Pansy looked amazed but equally revolted. Suddenly Hermione felt exposed. It had definitely been a bad idea to wear clothes that revealed so much of her back and practically every inch of her legs. Why didn't she remember that she shared this place with Malfoy too? Why? She had been so excited with her room that she had completely forgotten about that unpleasant fact.

She groaned inwardly. As if living with Malfoy wasn't bad enough, now she would have to co-ordinate her clothes around Malfoy too. Her expression changed to one of horror as she looked back at Draco, who smirked and turned away.

"No, Malfoy, I guess it isn't," she whispered as she turned around to leave.