Hermione woke up comfortable and warm.

Very warm.

Warmer than she usually was upon waking, even swaddled in blankets and with a sleeping Crookshanks on top of her. She cracked one of her eyelids to see a swath of platinum blonde hair in front of her face. Analyzing the situation as stealthily as she possibly could, Hermione deduced that she was draped across Malfoy in a decidedly intimate way. Her face was burrowed in the crevice between his neck and shoulder, her torso laying across his chest, and her legs intertwined with his.

Hermione briefly considered moving. After the small moment of personal absurdity, she realized that moving would not only wake Malfoy up, but it would also expose the both of them to the inevitable cold of Malfoy's bedroom. She turned her head slightly to look out the window only to relievedly note that it could not be later than dawn.

She had never been happier to close her eyes and nod back off to sleep.

000

Draco woke up slowly, reveling in the feeling of Granger's body over his. The light streaming into his window alerted him to the fact that it was at least nine in the morning.

Bloody hell, they would have classes soon.

It bothered Draco that he didn't want to get out of bed and leave the confines of Granger's arms. He wasn't supposed to feel like this, not at all. Not only was she a Muggleborn, but this was Granger. There was no doubt in Draco's mind that this-being here with Granger like this, tangled up in his bed-was what he wanted.

But his parents, as much as they loved him, might never accept Granger. They loved Draco; he was always given the best things possible growing up, always loved and cherished and spoiled while also being taught the ways of the world. He had been told from a young age that Mudbloods and Muggles weren't worth the ground they walked on, a point that had been reiterated by Lucius and Narcissa when Granger had continually upstaged everyone including himself at every exam.

Draco thought long and hard while Granger slept on about whether or not he should allow this budding relationship to go public or not. Unless they were extremely careful, it would hit the infamous Hogwarts rumor mill regardless. If he approached the subject carefully enough with his parents, giving them plentiful time to associate themselves with the idea, they might warm up to the idea that Draco and Granger were involved. The real problem, however, would be his other relatives, Aunt Bella in particular. She despised Muggleborns and Muggles. The idea of her accepting Granger as a part of Draco's life was simply absurd. Oh yes, the topic of Granger when it came to his family would require extreme caution. Not to mention the tension in the Wizarding world amongst everyone.

The war was approaching, of that Draco was sure. The last time he checked, his parents were slowly leaning towards Voldemort's side. Not two months ago, Draco would have jumped at the chance to join the Death Eater ranks and be granted that highest honor.

He looked down at the girl currently laying on him; snoring softly, wild brown hair curling all over the place, criminally long lashes dusting the tops of her cheeks and hiding the eyes that Draco so loved to see. It was impossible for Draco to remember his reasons for wanting to join Voldemort's minions. All he knew was that when the time came to choose, he would be choosing the side that allowed him to keep Granger safe. Mushy and unacceptable as it sounded, he didn't want to live in a world where she could have unspeakable things happen to her and there be nothing he could do to stop it. If she was going to be out there playing the hero with Potter and Weasley (as she undoubtedly would be, because she was Granger and she never knew how to just sit back and keep herself safe. How many times had she proven this over the years? How many deadly adventures had she inadvertently gotten herself into?), he was going to be right there beside her, making sure she didn't put herself too far in harm's path.

Draco waited several more minutes until deciding to wake Granger from her restful slumber. So sue him; the girl felt nice pressed against him the way she was. He was just like any other teenage male, albeit an exceptionally handsome one. Had it not been for the fact that they had classes that day, he would have waited until she arose on her own. But they did have classes, and he knew that he might lose vital body parts if he allowed Granger to sleep in and miss her lessons.

"Granger. Granger, wake up." Draco said clearly, gently shaking the sleeping girl until her eyes fluttered open.

"Wha-huh? Malfoy?"

"Yes, sweetheart. Wake up. Classes start soon and I know you hate it when you can't get a proper meal in before your day begins." Draco couldn't help but chuckle as Granger bounded out of his room and into her own, grabbing a change of clothes and then dominating the bathroom.

Granger would be Granger.

000

Hermione found herself conflicted multiple times that day. Ever since the friendly union between Malfoy, Blaise, Pansy, Harry, Ron and herself, they had taken to grouping up in their classes. It wasn't a stupid move; now that Hermione, Blaise, Malfoy and Pansy had teamed up, Hermione didn't have to spend all of her time doing Harry and Ron's coursework. They all spent equal time keeping Ron and Harry up to speed in class, which in turn meant that the two boys were able to comprehend their work on their own more frequently. But that day, the fact that they had merged into one gian supergroup was a huge inconvenience.

She found herself simutaneously unable to wrench her eyes from Malfoy and never wanting to see him at all.

On one hand, her mind kept flashing to last night. The snogging session was nearly unbearably hot, and Hermione had nearly slept with him right then. She mentally laughed every time she saw his shocked face when she insinuated that she'd had sex before. Of course she was a virgin, but it was just fun to push Malfoy's buttons.

On the other hand, her mind kept flashing to last night. Hermione couldn't believe some of the things she had said or done. Not one part of her regretted going to Malfoy in a storm. Left alone, she never would have gotten any sleep and probably would have driven herself to the point of a panic attack. However, she had slightly regretted the decision to stay in the clothes she had initially put on to sleep in. Hermione was one of those people who like to sleep in as little as possible. Clothes were infuriating and often got in the way of comfortable slumber. It had not occured to Hermione at the time to forewarn Malfoy that she essentially turned into a koala when she slept; it had been a point of humor for the Weasleys when they would enter Ginny's room in the morning to wake the two of them for breakfast only to find Hermione wrapped around a pillow (or an unsuspecting Ginny) much like a koala would cling to a tree.

Adding to her sense of confusion and confliction was the uncertainty on where she and Malfoy stood. She wanted to go further with him, maybe even officially date him now that their foolish childhood rivalry was (mostly) over. Hermione astutely guessed that the major obstacle in the way of a budding relationship between her and Malfoy was his parents, something that she could in no way help. It wasn't her fault that she was born to Muggles. You can't help who your relatives are.

Oh well, Hermione thought, resigned. If all else fails, we'll have had that amazing snog during the storm.

000

"Hermione, you've gotten a letter." Hermione was roused to the present several hours later during the lunch break by Harry waving a roll of parchment in front of her eyes.

"Oh thanks, Harry." She knew exactly who it was from. Ever since the summer when she had run in on them in Diagon Alley over the summer, she had been in regular correspondence with Fred and George as a sort of consultant on bits of magic.

To our dearest, kindest, most marvelous Hermione,

George-who is so devotedly reading and dictating over my shoulder, being an annoying git while he's at it-and I had an idea for a sweet that would allow one to temporarily change factors of their appearance. Sort of like a mini-Polyjuice potion, but not quite so because that would give the Death Munchers and other potential evil folks too much of an ability to avoid detection. Plus, to do that we would actually have to incorporate some Polyjuice Potion and that wouldn't sell at all. This would be minor, like the color of one's hair or their height. Nothing too drastic. Any ideas? You've all those books in that library at your disposal; care to do a bit of research?

Also, how are Ickle Ronniekins and The-Boy-Who-Just-Doesn't-Die? And Ginny? Give them our best, and tell Ron that if he's reading this along with you that we know he snatched a few Skiving Snackboxes from the back room before the start of term and if he doesn't return them soon, he'll get a rather uncomfortable burning sensation in his lower parts.

Your devoted (and also very handsome) servants,

Fred and George

P.S. We're serious about the Skiving Snackboxes. Tell him that.

Hermione was close to tears by the time that she finished the letter. Even if they didn't know they were doing it, the twins always managed to bring her out of a mood. She made a note to visit the library later and look up the magic needed to create the sweets that the boys wanted. She missed the twins. They weren't unintelligent; it was actually the exact opposite. They just despised school and the limitations it offered.

"You okay, Mione? What was it Fred and George wanted?" Ron said through a mouthful of cottage pie.

"They want the Snackboxes that you nicked, Ronald. How many times do I have to tell you to stop stealing things from Fred and George? They work hard to invent those products for their money and you just take them! One day, you're going to go too far and I will laughat you when they hex off a vital organ. One needed for reproduction." Hermione smirked as Ron paled. For the first time in living history, Ron pushed away a plate of delicious food.

An hour later, a smiling Professor Dumbledore stopped Hermione in the hallway on her way to Potions.

"Good day, Miss Granger."

"Good day to you as well, Headmaster. What can I do for you?"

"Alas, the question that should first and foremost spring to your mind is what I can do for you. Would you accompany to my office? I have already alerted Professor Snape that you will be missing his class. He wishes for me to tell you to meet his before the end of the day to retrieve the assignment you will miss."

"Yes, Headmaster."

Hermione followed Dumbledore to his ornate office. He proceeded to inform her of an Order plot that entailed collecting those that were on the fence about supporting Voldemort and giving them a safe place to stay, free from Voldemort's undeniable wrath. Sometimes being the brightest witch of her age had its advantages. Not even Harry was aware of this newest plan.

About an hour later she was dismissed by Dumbledore. She had sufficiently missed the rest of her lessons for the day. There was still ages until dinner, so she braced herself for the journey to Professor Snape's dungeon.

"Enter," Professor Snape said as Hermione rapped on his door a few minute later.

"Professor? Headmaster Dumbledore told me to come back down here and retrieve the work I missed during today's lesson."

"Very well, Miss Granger. We were merely studying the Coriolanus potion and it's effects on the human brain. Two feet of parchment are required by tomorrow's class. I assume that you can handle that?"

"Yes, Professor."

"Good. That will be all." Hermione could clearly see when Professor Snape was dismissing her. He was right; she had read ahead in their textbooks and was already well informed on the Coriolanus potion. The essay would be no problem for her. If she worked hard enough-and did not let Malfoy or the temptations that she associated with him distract her-she could do it tonight. None of their other professors had assigned them any lengthy homework.

Hermione walked through the corridors of Hogwarts to the library to do the research for Fred and George, thoughts of the twins and the Order and Malfoy and Voldemort and his minions swarming her brain like flies, all battling for attention.

Sometimes it sucked being the brightest witch of their age.

Sorry for the delay, everyone. High school is rough, but thankfully I only have 6 weeks left before I'm done with it forever. Plus, I had an unbelievably bad day today. It got to the point where I was just flat-out crying in school.

I'm on Tumblr, in case anybody cared or wanted to follow my blog (on which I post a lot of Starkid/Harry Potter/Dramione stuff). If you do, it's amyclough dot tumblr dot com. (Because fanfiction doesn't like to let me put the actual link).

Review, please? Let me know if you loved it or hated it, or in what direction you want it to go from here.