A/N: Ok, here we go again! Chapter Four! I have big plans for this fiction, and as a result I'm procrastinating on /all/ of my homework to write it. XD So, please R&R, I love you all! 3 ~sneakyslytherin

"Good morning!"

A cheerful voice woke Hermione from her slumber. Grumbling, the sleepy witch turned away from the voice. "Go away Luna," she mumbled, eyes still firmly shut. "I just fell asleep."

Luna's ridiculously energetic giggle filled the room. "You fell asleep eight hours ago, silly!" she chided, pulling the covers off of Hermione. "It's six-thirty!"

Curling up into a small ball to conserve the last of her warmth, Hermione opened her eyes and glared at Luna. "I hate you morning people," she snapped, swinging her legs out over the bed.

Luna nodded, satisfied, and grabbed her school bag. She'd done her hair into an elaborate bun, and was sporting miniature Cornish Pixie earrings. "I'm going to breakfast," she said, practically bouncing out of the room.

"But classes don't start 'till eight!" Hermione protested, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. "Why the hell do you need to be up so bloody early?"

"I want to go up to the owlery to see if I have any letters from Rolf." Luna tilted her head, smiling, and waved. "See you in first period!"

The door seemed to shut with an earth-shattering bang. Hermione winced. How the bloody hell does Luna know what classes I have? she thought, standing up and stretching. Oh bloody hell, I've been spending way too much time with Ron – now I'm talking like him.

A sharp pain ripped through Hermione's chest at the thought of Ron. Their relationship had been wonderful for the first couple weeks, but it had all fallen to hell as soon as Ron had tried to get past first base. It's perfectly fine that I wasn't comfortable with that, Hermione assured herself. It never would have worked out if that's what he expected of me.

Hermione's words sounded empty to her. She'd said them to herself at least a thousand times, but she was never convinced by them. While she was showering, she attempted to clear her mind; nothing worked. She was officially too lost in her past. I'm a prude, and it's my fault that the Golden Couple disintegrated.

Stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around herself, Hermione examined her figure in the mirror. He never would have stayed with me anyways. My shoulders are too big, my waist too thick, my chest too small….

The other day Hermione had read an article in the Daily Prophet that stated Ron was currently going steady with Parvati Patil, and that the two were seen at a nightclub before they apparated together. We worked this out! she thought angrily, furiously brushing her teeth. I wouldn't care about or meddle with his love life, as long as he did the same for me. We're still friends!

The monster inside of her chest, however, appeared to feel differently. As Hermione was getting dressed and organizing herself for the day, she felt as if a small, evil creature was ripping her chest open from the inside. This was a common feeling, though; she felt this way whenever she stopped to think about Ron. Usually the moster was sedated with a quick shot of firewhisky. Sighing, Hermione grabbed her shoulder bag and walked into the empty, silent common room.

Everyone must have gone down to breakfast, or something, she thought. Weird.

Hearing a click, Hermione whipped around, her wand drawn, only to slump when she realized that a now-wide-eyed Draco had just opened his door. "Good morning to you too, Granger," he said dryly, stepping out of his room and closing the door.

Hermione blushed and lowered her wand, looking awkwardly past Draco. In looking past him, however, her gaze settled on the door. Still red and vibrant, the letters burned themselves into Hermione's memory. Draco seemed to be examining the paint, and Hermione awkwardly asked, "So, are you going to try and get rid of it?"

Draco rolled his eyes, still focussed on the door. "No," he said sarcastically. "I thought I might make this a permanent feature of the décor."

Hermione let out a single harsh laugh. "You seem to require a microscope," she teased, attempting to make the blonde laugh.

Confused, Draco turned to face Hermione. "A what?" he asked, obviously lost.

Hermione mentally kicked herself. "Um, a microscope. It's a muggle science tool that allows someone to see a very close up image of whatever they're looking at. You seemed to be pretty focussed on the door so….oh never mind. It was a joke."

Draco still looked very confused. He shook his head. "Right, Granger. Of course."

"Can I help?" Hermione blurted out.

Draco turned to face her, an eyebrow raised. "You. Wanting to help me. There's something very wrong with this picture."

Hermione blushed. "Well," she said, deliberately ignoring Draco's statement, "would you like my help?"

"I don't need it," Draco said firmly, turning around.

"I'd like to help!"

"It's not necessary, Granger."

"I know, but I'd still like to help you with this."

"You're being silly."

"Please, Draco, don't fight me so hard. The time for fighting is over."

Draco turned around and seemed taken aback by Hermione's genuine desire to help. His eyes narrowed. "You'll have to skip breakfast," he warned, checking his watch.

Hermione nodded. "That's fine – I'm still pretty full from the Feast last night."

Moving beside Draco, Hermione began to inspect the letter "E" in the word "DIE", looking for any hexes or curses woven into the paint. "I haven't seen any malicious hexes yet," Draco informed her, starting to examine his sixth letter. "Frankly I don't think any of you goody-two-shoes would be cunning enough to know how to cast them."

Hermione froze. "You think….you think one of us did it?" she said quietly.

Draco nodded, not looking up from his letter. "We're the only ones who can come in here," he said softly. "Either someone let the person in, or more likely someone living in this common room wrote the message."

Skillfully dancing around the content of the message, Hermione exclaimed "No! Everyone staying here is tolerant and kind-hearted. No one would write something…something…so horrible."

Draco laughed humourlessly, his eyes taking on that sad, flinty look again. "Trust me, Hermione, this isn't that bad."

Her heart sank for this sad, broken boy that stood beside her. What had happened that had destroyed his spirit so utterly? Yes, he put up an arrogant façade for public appearances, but Hermione knew that this Draco – the wretched, detached Slytherin – was the real Draco.

They finished checking the letters in silence. "So, do you want to try washing it off with an aguamenti?" Hermione suggested.

Draco shrugged. "It can't hurt."

Taking two paces back, the pair looked at each other. Draco drew his wand from a holster under his robes on his arm, and Hermione slowly her wand and counted down. "Three, two, one – aguamenti!"

Twin jets of water soared out from Hermione and Draco's wands, landing on the letters. Rather than wash the paint off, however, the red, sticky substance seemed to absorb the water. Draco and Hermione looked at each other, eyes wide. A high humming sound filled the air, and Hermione felt a crushing weight followed by blunt pain all through her left side.

"Shit!"

Hermione heard Draco swear, but it was odd….the voice was coming from above her. Opening her eyes, she saw that Draco had flung his body across hers. The Slytherin was staring intently at his door, swearing bloody murder, his arms wrapped around Hermione's waist holding her closer to him. Water from Draco's robes and hair dripped off of him and landed on Hermione, but for some strange reason she didn't really mind – maybe it was because she was already wet, or maybe she just liked this feeling far too much.

Draco just seemed to realize that Hermione was still there, and still very much underneath him. Springing back so that he was crouching on the balls of his feet, Malfoy looked concernedly at Hermione. "Are you ok?" he asked gently.

"I think so," Hermione breathed, sitting up slowly and wincing. "Just…just give me a minute."

Rather than attempt to stand, however, Hermione lost herself in a single drop of water travelling down Draco's marble skin. The moisture collected at the corner of his right eyebrow, then slowly traced a path around his eye socket and down his pale cheek. It reached the corner of his lips, and then followed its path down his chin and onto his slightly curved neck. Hermione lost sight of it around Malfoy's collar, and her eyes flitted up to meet his.

Draco, too, seemed to have just caught Hermione's gaze. Similar to the day before, Hermione felt that there was tension in this stare; however, the tension had completely changed. She no longer felt anger, or animosity… What am I feeling?

Silence stretched out for what seemed like eternity, the quiet laced with possibilities and opportunities that neither party wanted to fully recognize. Grey eyes continued to search the layers in the brown, and two pairs of hands moved imperceptible millimeters towards one another.

The connection was shattered when someone's alarm clock started to sing "Living On a Prayer" ridiculously loudly and dramatically off-key. "Damn it!"

Hermione recognized Dean's voice, and heard a loud thump as she presumed the alarm clock was thrown at the wall. Draco sighed and stood up from his crouching position. Extending his hand to Hermione, he smiled crookedly. "I guess the water wasn't such a good idea?" he said, pulling Hermione up and towards him

"I guess not," Hermione said slowly, not moving closer to Draco but not moving further back either. She let out a small gasp as Draco ran his finger over her knuckles before letting go of her hand.

"So, it's not a malicious curse," Draco said, breaking away from Hermione as if nothing had happened. "At least, I don't think it's supposed to be. Could it just be a rebounding spell?"

Hermione, jarred out of her stunned silence, nodded quickly. "I think I read about a Wheezes product that functioned off of a similar concept…we probably shouldn't try any other spells on the paint just in case it throws everything back at us. I could owl George later today and see if he can give us a counter-curse."

Draco stiffened noticeable at the mention of the elder Weasley brother. "Thank you for the offer Hermione -" he started, but she cut him off.

"I won't mention you, if that's what you're so worried about," Hermione said brusquely. "He wouldn't give a damn anyways. But if that's what made you go all tense, I can avoid mentioning your name or anything that involves you."

Relaxing noticeably, Draco's crooked grin returned. "Thanks Granger," he said, not using the name as an insult. "I really appreciate it."

Both the teenagers spun around, wand at the ready, when they heard a loud shriek and another thump behind them. Hermione sighed. "Is Dean still throwing his alarm clock around his room?"

"I'd assume so," Draco said dryly. "Either that or he's chasing a chocolate frog."

Hermione glanced down at her watch. "Well, as you predicted it's too late for breakfast – do you know what class we have first?"

Waving at the bulletin board over by the main door, Draco said "All of our schedules are pinned up there. Grab yours, and we can see if we have any classes together."

Hermione arched her eyebrows. "Oh? And why would it matter if we did?"

Growing red, Draco attempted to stutter out a response. "Uh…um…it'd…you….we….I need help with my essays," he finished lamely.

Hermione laughed lightly, plucking her schedule off from the wall. "I have Advanced Transfiguration first with Professor McGonagall," she said matter-of-factly, tapping her schedule several times to replicate it. "And you?"

Draco reached behind him to grab his book bag off of a chair and pulled a single crumpled schedule out from the bottom of it. "It looks like I have that class too," he said, smiling.

Looking disapprovingly at the mangled paper, Hermione asked, "And…the rest of your day?"

"Oh!" Draco seemed genuinely surprised that she would care enough to ask him about his schedule. "Um, I have Advanced Transfiguration, Charms, Advanced Potions, Runes, Advanced DADA, and Muggle Studies."

"You?" Hermione gawped. "Taking muggle studies?"

Draco looked down at the ground. "My father forbade me from taking it before," he mumbled. "I figured…well, I figured this was a decent opportunity to actually learn something useful."

Kicking herself for her insensitivity, Hermione gently pried Draco's schedule out from his clenched fists. She let her hands linger over top of his for a moment before quickly scanning his nearly-illegible paper. "Whenever I have Arithmancy, you have Muggle Studies," Hermione said, quickly making several nice copies of Draco's schedule. "I'd recommend keeping three copies of this in your book bag, putting one on your wall, and having one tucked up your sleeve – they're too big to fit into these ridiculous pockets, and you never know when you might need to get access to it."

Draco smiled. "Yes, Professor," he said, giving a mock bow and obediently tucking a copy up his sleeve. "Now, can we head down to Transfiguration? I'd rather not be as late as Dean, if it's alright with you."

Hermione glanced towards Dean's room where she could still hear multiple thumps and swears. "That sounds like a brilliant plan," she said seriously, making sure that her key was in her pocket before she left the room. "However, we are still sopping wet," she said, smiling and raising her wand.

Looking down at himself, Draco smirked. "We're quite the sight," he said, lifting his arms out to either side. "The drowned ferret and the soaked kitty cat – it's a good thing the Prophet can't get their photographers past the gate."

Hermione laughed loudly as she finished drying Draco and herself off and closed the common room door. "Keep an eye out for beetles though, won't you?"

"Beetles?" Draco asked, puzzled.

"Oh! Right, I wouldn't have told you about our incident in fourth year…."

For the rest of the walk down to the Transfiguration class, Hermione and Draco made light conversation about the wizard press, Skeeter, tabloids, the royal family, and various other random topics that seemed to somehow or another sensibly flow into each other. To any ignorant passer-by, Hermione and Draco would have seemed like two close friends who were reunited after an entire summer apart.

Unfortunately, the student body was very well informed about Hermione's status at the "Golden Girl" and Draco's past as a Death Eater. When the pair passed students, the children's eyes would go wide before the whispering would immediately start. Draco was doing pretty well with ignoring the attention, until he caught snippets of a tall, brunette's statement; "…filthy Death Eater…. people like him …my parents are dead."

Draco's back went ramrod straight, and his lips pressed together tightly. Hermione had heard the idiotic girl too, and had immediately noticed Malfoy's reaction. Acting as if nothing was wrong, she gently pulled Draco's clenched fist into her hands. "Don't pay attention to them Draco," she whispered, her lips dangerously close to Malfoy's ear. "The students don't know how much that comment just hurt you. Hide it. Then they have nothing to hurt you with."

Draco looked down at Hermione, meeting her earnest gaze. He smiled. "You really do have a way with words, witch," he drawled, squeezing her hands before pulling away.

Hermione's fingers suddenly felt cold separated from Draco's, and she clasped her hands together in front of her. "I learn from the best," she said, smiling.

When the two finally arrived at the Transfiguration classroom, it was almost precisely when class was supposed to start. Hermione heard Draco's breath coming in quick gasps, and saw his eyes go wide. "Are you alright, Draco?" she asked, concerned, turning towards her friend.

Draco seemed to mentally shake himself. "Yeah," he said softly. "I just have bad…awful memories from this room. From the battle. You know."

Sympathetic, Hermione nodded. "It's like coming back to a castle filled with ghosts, isn't it?" she said quietly, looking around the empty hallway. "I keep expecting to see Snape come billowing around the hallway corner, or Lupin come shuffling down the stairs-"

"Or Mad-Eye stump towards you, reminding you to be constantly vigilant," Malfoy added, a sad smile finding its way onto his face.

"Exactly," Hermione said softly, remembering at the last moment to avoid mentioning Dumbledore. "But we have to keep going, right? We can't get mired in the past."

Malfoy nodded slowly. "I suppose you're right," he said, barely audible.

"So," Hermione asked, smiling, "are you ready?"

Draco turned to her and nodded. "Sit beside me?"

Hermione said yes without any hesitation.