A few hours later, Draco awoke for the second time that morning. This time it was a scraping sound that woke him and he bore his face into the closest pillow, wishing the sound to stop.

"Draco, its nearly noon you know," he heard Grangers voice from the other side of the room. He grunted in response and rolled over on the bed and that's when he saw what looked like a handful of birds flying across the ceiling. Draco squinted and realized they weren't birds but paintbrushes in the midst of slabbing paint on the walls and the ceiling.

"What the hell?" he said incredulous looking over at Granger who stood against the wall directing the brushes with her wand.

"We're painting the flat today, remember?" Hermione said frowning at him.

"Right," he said propping himself up against the back of the sofa. He gave his girlfriend a shifty glance before asking "Do we have to do that today though?"

"What?" Hermione said sharply and the paintbrushes stopped in their movement. Oh, well, too late to backtrack now, Draco thought and drew in breath before continuing.

"It's just, we only just moved in and you've been working like crazy the whole week. Couldn't we just…I don't know, relax or something?" Draco asked daringly. He watched Grangers eyes narrow and there was a moment when he considered making a run for it. It would be nice to just leave the apartment and not have to deal with all this repair work and a girlfriend who would surely explode in one…two…

"I knew this would happen! I guess it serves me right for being fool enough to live with a man" Hermione said loudly and her lapse in focus caused the paintbrushes to fall from the ceiling, one of them hitting Draco painfully in the head. She didn't look remotely sorry about this.

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" Draco asked irritably rubbing his sore temple.

"That men are unreliable, lazy…" she started but something in Draco's expression caused her to falter. Hearing her call him lazy was more than he could take at the moment. He felt pathetic enough without Granger adding insult to injury. He rose from the bed, glaring at her and then in one swift move he pulled on his pants and grabbed the sweater he'd thrown on the floor the night before.

"Draco," Hermione said, stepping towards him.

"I need some air," he said, ignoring her attempt to reach for him, before striding across the room without a backwards glance. Once outside he closed the door firmly behind him. He longed for some air. It was remarkable to him that just mere hours ago he'd been so happy inside that stuffy, old flat and now all he wanted to do was to get the hell out of there. Would he ever be able to keep up with Granger? After the workweek she'd had she should be tired as fuck and want nothing more than to relax and do nothing? It wasn't normal the way she always needed to have a project and he doubted he'd ever get used to her stressed chicken dance each and every morning. Feeling resentful he went down the narrow stairs and pushed the entrance door open. Stepping out on the street he breathed in some of the warm summer air and crossed the street to the park. He wandered around the park aimlessly for about an hour or so before deciding to head back to the apartment. Initially, he'd planned to stay out longer. But he found he was already missing Granger – even though she was bloody annoying, and he decided it had been a silly argument anyway. Arguing about paint, he thought shaking his head as he walked back across the street to their building. Looking up he saw Granger. She was sitting on the steps to the building. There was white paint spatter on her overalls and her hair was a mess. Draco thought the sight was about the most adorable he'd ever seen.

"Hey," he said, sitting down next to her on the steps.

"Hi," she said and then "so that was a stupid argument."

"yep," he agreed. They sat in silence for a moment, watching the scene of children playing on the swings in the park.

"Do you think it's a bad sign that we had an argument on the first day of living together?" she asked in a small voice.

"I don't believe in signs. But I'll tell you what I do believe in," he said.

"What's that?" she asked, turning to face him.

"That our love can withstand anything," he answered seriously, before adding "even arguments concerning paint." He watched Hermione's expression turn into a smile and he smiled back at her.

"Me too," she said leaning against his shoulder.

Later that evening Hermione fell back on the sofa feeling very pleased with herself. She had single-handedly managed to paint the entire flat. Sure, Draco had attempted to help but she'd quickly come to the conclusion that he lacked the finesse necessary. Something she thought he hadn't seemed too upset about. She leaned back looking at her masterpiece – gone were the cracks in the ceiling and peeling yellow wallpaper. And in their place was a crisp white ceiling and navy blue walls. Now all they needed were some curtains and sofa cushions and this place would feel like a real home, she thought.

"Is it finished?" Draco asked from his seat behind the rough wooden table in the small kitchen. He was reading The Prophet, no doubt scouting through the want-ads, Hermione thought.

"Yes," she answered and watched him look up from the newspaper. A low whistle escaped his lips as he glanced around the small space.

"It looks amazing, Granger" he said and Hermione beamed at him.

"You really think so?" she asked, still smiling. They'd compromised on the colour. Hermione had wanted the walls to be purple while Draco had preferred green. However, she felt she was quite pleased with the deep navy colour.

"Yes, it looks like a whole new space," he said before shooting her a mischievous look "in fact I think we'd better christen it again, just to be sure."

Hermione laughed.

"Yes perhaps we better," she said in mock insecurity while biting her lip. Draco's expression turned serious and in a heartbeat he was next to her on the sofa. They're faces inches apart; she could see her own face reflected in Draco's light grey eyes. She thought she looked strangely unnerved. Did she always look like that whenever he came this close? Something in her expression must have given away her thoughts because Draco asked;

"Am I scaring you, Granger?" His voice was light. Playful. But his voice was layered and there was an intensity there which hadn't been there a moment ago.

"No," she answered in an off-hand voice. It wasn't a complete lie. She wasn't afraid of Draco. But there was something in the way he was acting at the moment which made her anxious. And she couldn't put her finger on what it was. She held her breath when he reached out and touched her face. He tilted her chin and continued to stare at her with unyielding intensity. Hermione frowned, what was going on?

"At your parents, you told me you had the feeling you were going to lose me," he said, stroking his thumb against her bottom lip.

"Mmm," she answered, unsure what he was aiming at.

"What if I told you I had that feeling too. That I was going to lose you," he said and looked away from her for the first time in minutes. The break of eye contact made Hermione's breathing relax.

"Then I'd say you didn't have to worry about it," she said and Draco looked at her sharply.

"I'll never leave you Granger, and… I'll never let you go," he said, swiftly moving his fingers to the base of her neck and then down to her chest, unclutching her bra with such skill that she didn't even notice until it fell off her. Hermione thought there was something almost feral in his expression when he lunged on top of her, kissing her violently. But her body didn't allow her to ponder it, instead she responded instantly to Draco's advantages and didn't protest when he lifted her from the sofa and carried her over to the bed.

After a good two hours of blissful sex Draco had fallen asleep, but Hermione remained awake, staring up into the crisp white ceiling. She was replaying their conversation in her head. The intensity to his voice and the way he'd stared at her. It had made her anxious. I'll never let you go, he'd said. But what did that mean? She wasn't his property, but his girlfriend and if she decided she didn't want to be that anymore he would have to accept that. But would he? Something in his expression had made her uncertain. The paint fumes were making her dizzy and she craved a walk to clear her head. On that note, she got up and pulled on a knitted sweater and a pair of pants before heading out the door. Well outside the building she felt like she could breathe easy again. As she started walking down the street, her thoughts went back to Draco. Had she been imagining it or had there been something almost dark in his expression? For the first time, Hermione could picture him as a Death eater. The intensity of his stare and his voice and the underlying threat in what he'd said – all combined it gave her an idea of what he'd been like before. But this is silly, she thought. That wasn't him anymore. He would never do anything to hurt her or anyone else. For Merlin's sake, he was friends with Harry Potter now, she thought, shaking her head. There was absolutely no chance of him ever turning back to the dark side, she told herself as she swerved into the park. Hermione really liked the small park and it had been one of the reasons for her wanting the flat. She'd always loved trees.

Draco was running through a maze. Thorns tore his skin and clothes as he ran. There was something dark following him, he could see its shadow looming before his feet. The beast or whatever it was chasing him was right behind him now. He felt its warm breath on the back of his neck. Then suddenly the thorn bushes which made up the walls of the maze changed into death eaters. Thousands of them. Wearing masks, they reached out to grab him. The beast had caught up with him. There was no escape. Draco turned around.

Draco awoke with a gasp.

He was sprawled on the bed, drenched in cold sweat and panting as if he'd run a mile. It had been a nightmare, he realized looking down at his unscathed body. There were pearls of sweat on his smooth skin and he felt like someone had set him on fire. He sat up and rested his head in his hands. The nightmare was over, but an unsettled sensation remained in him. He had the feeling something was off. Granger, he thought snapping his head up. He stared at the empty bed. Then he looked around in the flat. Nothing.

"Granger", he called, but only silence followed. He charged over to the bathroom and pushed the door open meeting his own reflection in the mirror. He was pale as a sheet, his face wet with sweat and his eyes frantic. Then he heard the creak of the door behind him and he rounded on the spot.

"Where the hell have you been?" he demanded as Hermione closed the door behind her.

"I went for a walk," she said frowning at him.

"You couldn't have told me that?" he asked.

"You were asleep," Hermione answered simply.

"Right, well, I was worried," Draco said, feeling a lot calmer now that he had Granger in his sight.

"Sorry, I should have left a note," Hermione said, then surveying him she added "what happened to you?"

"Nightmare," he answered in explanation watching her remove her shoes. After putting the shoes neatly on the shoe rack, she walked over to him and reached her arms around him.

"It's been a weird night…let's go to sleep" she said. Draco wasn't quite sure what she meant by that but started towards the bed all the same.