Hey guys! I tried to update this last night, but was being a poo : ( Soo....Here it is! Hope everyone likes it! Review if you do!

Chapter 5

[Previously]

But despite the slightly uncomfortable temperature, Hermione soon fell into a deep sleep; into a black pit of dreams and nightmares. She rolled over in her sleep, and reached out a hand to the edge of the bed.

"Wait..." she whispered sadly, her fingers curling to the grip the sheets below her. Sweat once again beaded on her forehead.

"Don't do it..."

[End]

Hermione woke with a start. Two days in a row, she had woken up in a cold sweat. Someone was trying to protect her, while someone was trying to hurt her. She couldn't see the faces in her dreams, but she knew it was tragic when the one protecting her got hit.

Hermione hunched forward in bed, resting her elbows on her knees and scrubbing her eyes with her palms.

"This has to stop," Hermione said aloud. She couldn't keep waking up like this. She was losing sleep and was filled with a constant sense of paranoia.

She opened her oak door and padded down the hallway into the common room. She was surprised to see Draco sitting at the table, with a shoe box, and some construction paper, holding up a pair of tweezers. Tonight, or rather, that morning, he was clad in a pair of black cotton boxers and a shirt that said 'Slytherin's Finest' across the chest. Picking up the tweezers, he placed something gingerly inside..

"Dammit!" Draco swore aloud.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, from the edge of a bookshelf. Draco's eyes flew up, wide with surprise.

"What're you doing up?"

"I should be asking you the same question. But I had another nightmare," Hermione said, padding over to him and taking a seat across from him, eyeing the cut open box.

"Me too. Plus I had this project weighing on my mind, so since I couldn't sleep, I thought I'd start it early," Draco explained. Scraps of different colored construction paper were everywhere. One small blue crescent cutout was currently clinging tightly to the back of his forearm.

"At 5:30 in the morning?" Hermione questioned. Draco shrugged.

"So what's this project that has you hating muggles so much?"

"I have to create a model of a muggle living room. Oh, and don't get me wrong, I just hate muggles all around. This is just another reason to hate them," Draco said. Hermione turned angry at this.

"I was going to offer some suggestions, but I would rather not help an intolerant jerk such as yourself," Hermione said. She couldn't bare to have anyone talk badly about muggles. The muggle world wasn' that bad, it was just...muggles are naïve. They are meant to be treated nicely, not like a lower being.

Hermione padded into the bathroom and took care of business. Afterwards, she squished some liquid soap around her palms and in between her fingers as she examined herself in the mirror.

"I look like hell," Hermione whispered to herself.

"Got that right. Then again, I don't look much better," Draco said, walking through the frame of the door.

"Get out of here!" Hermione stuttered.

"Why? It's not like you were changing or anything," Draco said nonchalantly as he walked over to his own sink. The scary thing is, Hermione was just about to.

Hermione and Draco both took out their toothbrushes and began to brush. They looked at each other challengingly, and after a few minutes of scrubbing, Hermione spit hard at the sink. Draco followed suit.

"Not bad, mudblood. Were you aiming or was that luck?" Draco asked, motioning towards her sink, where her green, frothy spit had landed directly in the drain.

"Talent," Hermione lied as she turned the handle of the faucet. Cool liquid poured out of it and Hermione collected the water in her hands, before splashing her face a few times.

She turned when she heard a rustling of cloth. Draco pulled his shirt off over his head and tossed the shirt on the floor.

"What're you doing?" Hermione asked fearfully.

"What's it look like? I'm going to take a shower," he said, cracking his neck. Hermione stared at his chest. The skin was toned and taught over the muscles, giving him a pretty well-defined 6-pack.

"Like what you see?" Draco said, smirking as he removed one of his dirty white socks. Hermione turned away in embarrassment, and focused on brushing her hair.

Draco got an evil look in his eye and removed his other sock. Quietly he crept towards her. Hermione looked at the shower stall and reached back her hand to run the brush through her mane. But quickly, Draco caught it and spun her around, Hermione dropping the wooden brush in the process.

He brought her hand roughly to him, forcing her to touch the muscles of his stomach.

"These muscles weren't bought. These are from 6 years as Slytherin Seeker," Draco said, smirking evilly at Hermione's uncomfortable disposition.

Once his grip slackened, Hermione pulled out of it and ran out of the room.

Draco chuckled and removed his boxers, not even bothering to close the door that she had left open. He was proud of his body and wasn't afraid to show it off.

Hermione meanwhile ran into her room and closed the door. Her heart was pounding, but why? She had only made a quick dash to her room, she hadn't run a marathon or anything like that. But it sure felt like it.

'Was it from his touch?' she thought.

'Naw, couldn't be. I don't like Draco like that,'

'Not yet at least,'

Hermione sat in silence, pondering things when a tap on the window brought her back to attention. It was now 6AM, and she wondered who –or what- would be tapping on her window this early.

She opened the stain glass window and Fawkes flew in the room, dropping a letter on her bed before resting on the back of her chair.

"Aww. Been reduced to an owl, have you Fawkes?" Hermione questioned as she picked up the official looking letter. Fawkes squawked in annoyance. Seemed like the phoenix agreed.

"Dear Miss Granger and Mister Malfoy,

As Head Boy and Head Girl, you have your own duties as well as your school work. Meet me after breakfast in my office so we can discuss some new activities for the year.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore," Hermione read aloud.

Hermione walked over to the desk and pulled out one of the drawers, careful not to disturb Fawkes, who was eyeing her contently.

She scribbled down that they would meet him after breakfast and rolled it up, tying it with a piece of string she had pulled off her comforter. Fawkes accepted it and flew out the window, leaving a single red feather on Hermione's desk.

She picked it up and looked at it carefully. It was long and several shades of red were apparent. There were no spaces in the strands and it shone in the dim morning light.

Hermione heard her door open and spun around. She picked up her wand and held it slightly behind her.

Draco stood in the doorway, a fluffy towel around his lower body, his left hand scratching the back of his head.

"Showers' all yours," he said, before walking out.

"Wait!" Hermione called after him, remembering the letter. Draco turned around and smirked as he raised an eyebrow.

"Yes?" he purred seductively.

"We have to meet Dumbledore after breakfast in his office; we need to discuss a few fun events for this year," Hermione said, completely ignoring his tone. Draco nodded and headed back towards his room.

'You looked and acted like you were trying to seduce her,' the voice in his head said.

'Chill, I was just trying to mess with her head,'

'Whatever. Just don't get too chummy. Remember what your father might do to you if he found you cavorting with a muggle-born,'

He hated his inner voice. Well...most of the time. It always told the truth, no matter how harsh.

Draco sighed, and slipped an undershirt on over his head. He pushed his arms through a white button shirt, then followed it up with some green and red argyle print boxers, which were followed by some black trousers. He left the top few buttons of his shirt undone for the hell of it. He heard the water stop as he pulled on a fresh pair of socks. He smiled faintly and continued getting dressed.

Hermione stepped out of the shower and rubbed her body dry with the remaining fluffy white towel. She shook her head when thoughts of Draco's strong stomach threatened to come back to her. She was determined not to have a crush on her roommate and enemy.

Hermione dressed and primped in the bathroom, then stepped out into the cool air of the common room. Once again, Draco sat in front of the chopped up shoe box, staring at it. Hermione came up to his side and bent over to get a good look at it.

"Nice," she commented sarcastically of the mess before her.

"Shut it, Granger,"

"Whatever you say," Hermione said indifferently as she picked up a book and began to read it in front of the ever-present fire. Draco looked down at his sorry excuse for a living room. Colored paper scraps lay about here and there, looking more like the work of a 4 year old, not a 17 year old.

He needed inside information. Someone who was a muggle or knew about muggle items. All of his friends were pureblood, so that cancelled them out...Draco turned around and looked at the girl before him. Hermione had her back to him. Draco winced and gritted his teeth together. This wasn't going to be easy.

"Granger?" Draco said wearily.

"The name is Hermione," she replied curtly, licking her finger and turning the page.

"Hermione?" The name rolled off his tongue easily, and he gained confidence. "Can you come here a minute?" He heard her sigh and the book close. Hermione walked slowly over to him.

"What?" She asked. Draco took in a deep breath.

"Can you help me with my project?"

"...I thought I'd never see the day when the great pureblood Draco Malfoy, Slytherin Sex God, ask for help from the lowly Gryffindor bookworm muggle-born," Hermione mocked.

"I was trying to be nice and ask for help, but you know what? Maybe I don't need help from a precocious bitch," Draco said, faking a sad voice as he turned around.

"I was just kidding," Hermione said hastily.

"So, what do you need help with?"

"The whole project. I have to create a model of a muggle living room, and I don't know what to do!" Draco admitted, staring at his sad attempt.

"Well first of all, a muggle living room isn't much different than a witch or wizards' living room. They just have a few more items," Hermione explained calmly.

"I see," Draco said.

"Since you can't possibly expect to get a good grade with -this- piece of garbage, how bout you get some miniature furniture pieces. I think I saw a small antique shop in Hogsmeade. Just go in and buy some doll stuff," Hermione said.

"Me? Buy doll stuff? You've got to be kidding me, Hermione," Draco said, hoping that the Gryffindor girl was playing a joke on him.

"Nope. I'm serious. It'll look a lot nicer, and it'll be a lot easier than making all the furniture yourself," Hermione said.

"The project is due in a week, will I be able to get the supplies in time?"

"Yup. This weekend is a Hogsmeade weekend for the 6th and 7th years, and I'll tell you what. I'll meet you down there to help you look for some items for your model,"

"Sounds good to me," Draco said. A loud grumble interrupted the following silence.

"And apparently food sounds good to me!" Hermione laughed.

'Stupid stomach, that was so embarrassing, even if it is just Draco!' she thought to herself.

"Alright, let's go get some grub and meet Dumbledore. He better not make us do any demeaning tasks," Draco said, failing to give an example.

"Yeah. I agree," Hermione said, grabbing her bookbag as Draco picked up his. He walked ahead of her and held the portrait door open as Hermione stepped through.

"Thanks,"

"Welcome,"

Together the two walked down the corridor towards the Great Hall, walking side by side, and being cordial.

Hermione and Draco weren't the first to arrive. Despite the early time, the Great Hall was still bustling with people.

The pair stood at the entrance and looked around at all the early birds.

Footsteps brought Hermione's attention to a figure fast approaching. She smiled when she recognized the handsome face of Eric.

"Hey Hermione!" he greeted her, then nodded towards Draco, who just scowled.

"Hey Eric!" Hermione greeted back. Draco still stood by Hermione's side, like a guard; unmoving and fierce.

"I was just wondering..."

Ooh. What IS Eric wondering? Guess you'll have to stay tuned to find out ; ) Until next time! Lots of love,
English-Foxlette