(Draco's P.O.V.)
Draco glanced up from his book with a bemused smile. Hermione, it seemed, was still struggling to pull up her hair into a respectable knot. Though not as bushy as it once was, it was rather long and fell as soft curls in honey brown tendrils. It was pretty, but not practical for most of her classes. Hair in the eyes, face, and hanging in the vicinity of dangerous potions was never a good idea. Swearing colorfully, Hermione gave up for the moment as her stomach gave a loud grumble. With a huff, she stomped over to the kitchen she and Draco shared, along with the rest of the Head student quarters. With perhaps more banging and force than was strictly necessary, she began rifling through the cabinets and fridge.
"Hermione." Draco stated.
Hermione ignored him.
"Hermione."
"Hermione."
"Hermione."
She glared at him.
"WHAT." She finally replied.
Sheesh, testy this morning, Draco thought to himself.
"I'm hungry," he whined. "Make me some breakfast."
"Make your own, Draco. I really don't have the time this morning to cook for a spoiled brat. Have an apple."
She chucked a green apple at him, his favorite. He gave her a look.
"Bit violent today, are we?" He smirked.
She sent him one of her best death glares.
"I mean, um, thank you for the apple, you're the best roommate/friend ever?" He said with an angelic smile.
"Much better."
It turns out, if two similar people are forced to live in close quarters with each other, they are bound to get close. It started for Draco and Hermione with studying, then sharing patrols with each other, having intelligent conversations, and eventually they were on a first name basis. Of course, Draco dropping his prejudices after 5th year certainly helped. He never liked to talk about what caused his sudden change of heart, and Hermione never pushed him. She forgave him wholeheartedly, though unfortunately the same couldn't be said for her two best friends. Though perhaps not violent with Draco, the two always had a sharp word or remark to say about him. It was only very recently that they grudgingly accepted that Hermione wasn't going to stop being friends with him.
Another bout of swearing snapped Draco out of his thoughts.
"Geez, Hermione, where did you even learn all of that? He asked.
Hermione scowled as she wrestled with a hair tie and contemplated whether or not she should tell him. Finding no reason not to, she answered.
"Pretty much every Aunt, Uncle, and older cousin on my dad's side of the family are sailors in the family shipping business. You pick up quite a lot of new words when sailors are part of the family." She finally stated.
Draco studied her in surprise.
"Huh. I would never have guessed that."
She shrugged and went back to the mirror.
Draco watched her struggle for a few minutes, internally debating for a minute, then gave up.
"Come here, Hermione. Sit down in front of me." He sighed.
"Why." She replied suspiciously.
"Come on, just do it." He said.
"Fine." She walked off and sat down as he requested.
"Okay, be still."
Draco summoned her hair brush and got to work.
In the reflection of the mirror, Hermione saw with surprise that he was deftly weaving her hair into a complex braid. Starting at the top of her head, at the hairline, Draco slowly braided down until it ended about halfway down her back.
Touching the intricate Dutch braid, Hermione looked up at him in surprise.
"Thank you. Where on earth did you learn how to do that?" she questioned.
He thought for a minute before replying.
"I have a photographic memory. One of my favorite things to do as a child was to watch my mother get ready for the day. I suppose I picked it up that way. I also have a lot of younger cousins, and it was always my job to "entertain" them while our parents talked about family matters. Doing their hair was one of the only ways to keep them still and quiet for a bit.' Draco recalled.
"Well, it's beautiful, Draco. Thank you." She said with a warm smile.
He shrugged. "No problem."
"All right, I'm heading downstairs to meet Harry and Ron. I need coffee now or I'll be a zombie all day. Are you coming?"
He shook his head.
"I have a free period, I think I'm gonna just read in here." He said. "See you in potions."
"Alright, see you." Draco watched her climb out of the portrait, then went back to his book.
(Hermione's P.O.V.)
Hermione headed downstairs with a smile. She headed into the great hall, then walked over to sit with the other Gryffindors. Harry and Ron, used to her long, out of control hair, noticed her new braid right away.
"Nice hairstyle, 'Mione. How long did it take you to do that?" Harry questioned.
"Actually, it wasn't me who did it. Draco saw me struggling to pull it up and did it for me." She replied, fingering the complex braid.
At this, the boys' eyes turned stormy.
"Honestly, Hermione, it's bad enough that you willingly cavort with the git but now he fixes your hair?" Ron snarled in disgust.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Honestly, Ronald, you need to let go of silly old rivalries. Besides, Draco does hair better than I ever could, and it's pretty, too." Hermione sniffed. "Really, you guys. There's a lot more to Draco than meets the eye." She said with a smile.
The boys looked at each other and shrugged. They supposed they'd never understand her.