Disclaimer: Who does it all belong to? *cups hand to ear*

Audience: J.K. Rowling!

Author: *claps proudly* Quite right!

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Draco woke when his alarm shrilled wildly. Groggily, he smacked his hand down on it to silence it, wondering why the hell he had set it to wake him up before the sun was even rising. He felt the warm weight of Hermione in his arms, and abruptly the events of the night before rushed back to him. His expression tightened and went cold. He looked down at Hermione, and his chest tightened.

She was lying on her stomach, her hair in a wild disarray. He marveled at the length of her lashes as they lay on her cheeks and the pale pink of her lips. Then he shook himself. Listen to yourself, man, he thought sardonically. How far have you sunk? Just because you're in love with her doesn't mean you have to be a sap like Pothead. But despite his deprecatory thoughts, his hands were gentle as they turned her onto her back and shook her gently.

She blinked slowly, then focused on him. "Draco?" she asked sleepily, yawning widely.

"Yeah, it's me. C'mon, honey, we've got to get you back to your bed."

She made a little moue with her lips that he found unbelievably cute. "Don't wanna. Here's good." She snuggled back into the pillow, and Draco allowed himself a moment to admire her lying in his bed, as he had dreamed about for so many nights. Then he sighed and shook her again. "No, baby. You've got to go back to the Gryffindor tower."

She pouted, her head still stubbornly shoved against the pillow. "Don't wanna." Her voice was as petulant as a five year old's. Draco sighed and abruptly came to the realization that his darling Hermione was not at her best when she first woke up.

Leaving her to be for the moment, Draco unwound himself from their tangled blankets and pulled on some clothes. Then he went over to Hermione's side of the bed and bodily hefted her into his arms. She blinked her eyes and then glared up at him. "Why the hell are you waking me up, Draco?" she grumped.

Ah, she's waking up, Draco thought dryly. Her sentences were coherent now, but not any more complimentary.

"You're going back to your own bed," he said patiently. Inwardly he wondered where this sudden well of patience had come from. Usually he would have made some sarcastic comment, but he found that he couldn't when he saw her snuggling up against his chest as if it were the only place that she wanted to be.

Her vision cleared slightly and she frowned up at him. "I'm not in my bed?"

"No," he said slowly. "You were in mine." He peered around the corner of the Slytherin common room and saw the coast was clear, then pushed his way out of the portrait and into the corridors. In the early morning before the sun rose, the world was the coldest. He could feel the cold of the old stone floors even through his shoes, and he shivered at the chill in the air. Drafty old castle, he thought grumpily. He felt Hermione shiver in his arms, and wrapped her a little closer. When she started to shiver more, he stopped and sat her down on the floor.

She yelped softly. "Merlin, that's cold!"

He shed his dark cloak and draped it around her. She felt her shivers die away, and she hugged his cloak around her for one moment. She could smell his warm scent on it, and it was comforting. Then he picked her up again. Immediately she protested. "Draco! I'm awake, I can walk now. And besides, you need your cloak. You'll freeze."

"I'm fine," he said shortly.

She glared up at him. "Well I say that you're bloody not well fine," she huffed. "I can see that you're cold. Now take your cloak!"

He actually growled at her. "Damned contrary woman," he grumbled. "Try to do something nice for her and it backfires on you."

Hermione sighed with exaggerated patience. "Draco, you're going to have to walk back to the Slytherin tower and you'll be cold."

He huffed as his long strides ate up the distance to the Gryffindor tower. "I'm getting my workout right now, Hermione. Trust me, I won't be cold."

Hermione's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. Too late Draco realized his mistake and clamped his mouth shut. "And what does that mean?" she asked, her eyes glittering.

"Not a thing," Draco said quickly. "I just--I meant---"

"You meant I was fat!" Hermione accused, her glare making him quiver in his boots. He told himself it was the cold.

"I never meant that you were fat," he promised, but she continued to glower at him.

"You did too! You said you were getting a workout from carrying me. That means that I'm fat!"

He glared right back at her, stopping in the middle of the hall as they squared off. He still held her in his arms, but that didn't detract from their bad-tempered glowering at one another. "You're not fat, you feather-headed woman! But you're not particularly light either."

Hermione gritted her teeth. "So I'm fat," she persisted, and Draco nearly threw up his hands before he remembered that would mean that he would drop her on the stone floor. Which would not earn him any brownie points.

"No," he said through gritted teeth. "I never said that you were fat."

"But that's what you meant," Hermione said stubbornly. She tilted her nose in the air. "That's just fine. I don't care if you think I'm fat, anyway. If I'm so heavy, then why don't you put me down? You might break your back."

Draco prayed to any god that he had heard of for patience. He found that his newfound patience had quickly dried up beneath her pestering. Then he started walking purposefully toward Gryffindor tower again, making a mental note to never again encounter Hermione before she was fully awake. "I'm not going to put you down, and I don't think you're fat."

When he saw her mouth open to argue more, he snapped, "End of discussion, Hermione."

Her eyes opened wide in outrage. "Why, you dictator!"

He moaned. Why had he ever thought that he loved this harpy? At the moment he'd gladly sling her off a cliff and wave to her on the way down. Or maybe he'd throw himself off a cliff, which would work just as well. That way she'd still be around to pester Potter and the Weasel. No sense in saving those two gits from her infernal nagging. The damned woman was pretty damn chipper for almost being murdered the night before, he thought sourly.

He saw the portrait of the Fat Lady up ahead and increased his pace. When he reached it, he glanced at her. "What's the password?"

She glared up at him, looking stubborn. He looked back at her, equally stubborn. Finally she muttered, "Pickled eggs."

The portrait stared from Hermione to Draco and back again. She leaned slightly forward. "What was that, dear? I didn't quite hear you."

"Pickled eggs," Hermione snapped, raising her voice. The portrait looked affronted.

"Well there's no need to shout," she said huffily, and swung open more quickly than normal, almost hitting Draco and Hermione on the way. Draco jumped out of the way, snarling under his breath about contrary witches and temperamental paintings. Then he stepped into the Gryffindor common room and glanced around quickly. When he saw no one, he glanced down at Hermione. "Which way?"

She pointed toward one spiraling staircase sullenly, and he stepped toward it and up the stairs. She directed him toward one door, which he opened softly. He saw two beds, one of which was obviously Hermione's because it was empty. However, the covers were strewn everywhere, a fact that delighted him. Hermione might be smart, but it was obvious that the little Miss Know-it-All wasn't always particularly neat. He glanced quickly at the other bed and recognized Ginny Weasley, who was fast asleep.

He laid Hermione gently on the bed and looked at her for a moment. Her mouth was still pressed into a mutinous line, and her hair was bushy and tangled. He sighed. Merlin, he was a goner when he thought that such a damnable creature as this one was the one that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He gripped her chin in strong fingers and pressed a kiss to her lips.

She tried to bite him.

Chuckling to himself, he drew away. Involuntarily, his fingertips went to her bruised cheek, and she stilled beneath the touch. Some of the fire banked in her eyes, and she looked up at him with something resembling anxiety. "Do you think I'll be ok in the dormitory, Draco?"

Draco sighed. "I'm sure you will, Hermione. No one can get through the portrait unless they have the password. Which leaves only you honor-bound Gryffindors."

"And you," she muttered, irked by his continued ragging of the Gryffindors.

He smirked at her, then his expression sobered. "I'm going to talk to Ginny for a minute. Let her know what happened."

Hermione immediately protested. "Oh Draco, don't wake her up."

He puffed out an annoyed breath. "Are you going to argue about everything this morning? I'm doing it because I'm worried about your safety, you addlepated twit."

"Don't call me names," Hermione muttered under her breath as she called him an uncomplimentary name.

Draco's mouth twitched, and he sighed. "Look, don't fight me on this. If I talk to Ginny, she'll talk to Pothead, and he'll look out for you when I can't."

"I can take care of myself," Hermione muttered.

"Like you did last night?" he retorted, and watched her eyes shadow with painful memories.

Sighing deeply--this relationship stuff was a pain in the ass--he sat down beside her on the bed. "Look, honey. I know that you're usually up to protecting yourself. But obviously there's something about this guy that's a little different than your average bad guy. The more people we have that are watching out for you, the better I'll feel. So just do this for me, ok?"

She studied him in silence for a moment, and he nearly squirmed beneath her steady gaze. Finally she sighed deeply and said grumpily, "Oh, all right. You win."

He grinned triumphantly, then kissed her gently, his hand stroking down her hair for a moment to reassure himself that she was whole and his. Then he released her and pulled the covers around her. "Go to sleep," he said softly. "I'll be gone in a moment."

Hermione hesitated, then reached up and pulled Draco's head down to hers for a fierce kiss. "Thank you," she said quietly.

Draco gulped. The woman was full of contradictions. One minute she was spitting fire, and the next she was a seductive temptress. He never knew what to expect from her. It was like a daily roller coaster ride. He touched his fingertips to her unbruised cheek for a moment, then rose and crept over to Ginny's bed.

He put his hand over her mouth so that she wouldn't scream. That would be all he needed, he thought grumpily. To be caught in the Gryffindor girls' dormitory. Her eyes flew open, and she lashed out with one hand, smacking him across the cheek. His soft curse seared the silence of the room. Her wild eyes stared up at him without comprehension. When she realized who he was, she relaxed, and he removed his hand from her mouth to touch his cheek gingerly.

"Dammit, woman," he muttered. "I think you left a bruise."

"Serves you right," Ginny whispered, her eyes flashing. "Sneaking up on people while they're sleeping."

"I didn't sneak. I walked. Anyway, I need you to talk to Pothead for me, Ginny."

Her eyes narrowed at the name, but she didn't comment on it. "About what?"

He glanced over at Hermione's bed and saw that she was already asleep again. His eyes softened for a moment, then he glanced back at Ginny. "Hermione was attacked last night," he said starkly.

Ginny gasped and started to jump up to check on Hermione, but he caught her arm. "No, she's asleep. You can check on her later. She was going out to meet me, and someone caught her in the corridor and beat her up some. I need Pothead to keep an eye on her, and the Weasel too. The more people watching her, the better."

"Is she badly hurt?" Ginny asked anxiously, wringing her hands.

His eyes hardened coldly. "Bruises and scratches," he said coolly. "Not badly enough that Madam Pomfrey thought she needed to stay in the Infirmary. But I want to make sure that she stays safe, Ginny. I don't want something like this to happen again."

Ginny nodded anxiously. "You're right of course. I'll talk to Harry first thing in the morning."

Draco let out a breath that he hadn't been aware of holding. "Thanks, Ginny." He slipped off her bed, and Ginny sat upright.

"I didn't hear her come in," she said with a speculative gleam in her eye.

Draco arched one eyebrow from the shadows. "She didn't until a few minutes ago. She stayed with me."

Ginny smiled slightly. "Good." She turned to look at Hermione sleeping so peacefully, and felt fear pierce her heart at the thought that someone had attacked her friend. She turned around to ask Draco if they knew who had done it, but the room was empty.

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Reviewers:

Lady Jade Green~ Sorry, you won't find out who the culprit was for a bit, I'm afraid. ^_^ You'll just have to stick around to see! *wink*

Natyslacks- Yay! I'm not the only watering pot! hehe

One-Soul-Joy18~ Thank you so much for your review. I'm really glad that I've managed to try to get Hermione's full character, considering that's what I was going for. Now I know I've succeeded, at least in some small measure! :)

Ghypscee~ I'm really glad you like it. As to the way he uses endearments, I did notice how much I used them when I read back over the chapters after I posted it. I got a little carried away. So I'm going to slim the frequency of those down, but they'll still be there, because I personally am a swooner at endearments, and since I am, then in my story Hermione is too. ^_^ And besides, Draco is pretty much OC--he hates mudbloods, yet in my story he's dating one. So stretching the OC-ness just a little farther won't hurt any. ^_^

La Rose Noire~ Thank you for reviewing! "...nicely in character dialogue, heaps of sexual tension and an unreformed (albeit sweet) Draco" That's EXACTLY what I was going for. ^_^ Thank you!