Disclaimer: I own nothing other than the clothes on my back, the computer that I sit at and a lot of Diet Coke. Please don't sue?
Thanks: Thank you so much to whoever reviews this; please, please, please send me as much feedback as you can! The more the better!! I've updated this in the tiniest of ways, fixing the glaring mistakes you guys could pick up. I have two wonderful betas, Angela and Arlene, who I love to pieces. Without them this work would be even worse, so thank your lucky stars I met them! Without further ado, here is the fic. Chapter One: The New DormitoryThe third years occupying the compartment made little protest when Draco Malfoy entered, his lanky body framing the doorway. His shockingly blonde hair, which hung limply in front of his face, hid his stony eyes as he lazily scanned the faces of the startled students. Each wore a look of terror, not only because Malfoy was sending waves of fear-inducing indifference towards them, but because they had heard the stories. The Malfoy family was infamous and, now that the Dark Lord had surfaced from his shadowy exile, they were under closer scrutiny; no one forgot where Lucius Malfoy's loyalties dwelled 17 years ago. Draco stepped aside and the younger students slunk away, hunched down as though they expected Malfoy to strike them if they made any sudden movements.
He sat alone in the compartment, feet resting on the seat across from him and the curtains on the doorway drawn. For once he didn't feel compelled to have the two buffoons, Crabbe and Goyle, lurking around making insipid conversation and generally annoying him.
Draco stared down at the inside of his forearm, the sleeves of his shirt pushed up to his elbows and his tie hanging loosely around his neck. The train still had a few hours before it pulled up to Hogsmeade station, so he was in no hurry to straighten himself, yet. The mid-afternoon light streaming into the compartment caught the translucent sheen off the new mark on his arm.
Lucius made Draco get the mark during the summer, in celebration of becoming Head Boy. At the time, Draco was overcome with the emotions that often came when his father's fleeting approval cropped up. The week before returning to Hogwarts was spent mingling with various Death Eaters at parties his mother insisted on throwing. Draco would have rather stayed in his room the entire week if it weren't for Lucius; Draco had been delirious with the happiness that came with his father's approval. Like a starving animal, Draco hungered for Lucius' praise; often the elder Malfoy paid Draco no heed. Regular beatings would have been better than what Draco endured for his seventeen years: cold-hearted indifference. The same kind he himself now knew how to wield. Lucius' approval came at a high price.
The mark was not clearly visible on Draco's skin; when the sun shone on the patch of skin, the faintest sheen of a green serpentine symbol glowed in return. But in Draco's mind the tattoo would always appear the way it had when he first received it. Swallowing back the depression, Malfoy could still see the mark angry and red, a slight hint of blood along the borders as the mark sunk deeper into his skin. He knew when the time came for him to be called it would become visible; it would blacken his skin and make him fall to his knees. Whether it was from pain or from an invisible force bring him to his knees, he did not know. But the Dark Lord had demonstrated the effectiveness of the mark on a willing Death Eater prior to branding Draco. The emotions the Dark Mark had wrought upon him confused Draco. Wasn't he supposed to be happy? The only thing that he could see in his future was death; perhaps it wasn't such a big surprise to him that he was depressed.
Hermione paused before she knocked on the door, knowing full well who would be on the other side. 'He's a filthy Death Eater', she reminded herself. She knew exactly what had occurred to the Malfoy heir during the summer holidays though it was technically classified information. Another holiday stay at Number 12 Grimmauld Place and a pair of Extendable Ears, courtesy of Fred and George Weasley, granted Hermione access to it. At first, the news hadn't surprised her in the least. Harry had seen Draco's father in the circle with Lord Voldemort two years ago, and although he's kept a low profile ever since, everyone was still aware of his allegiance. Draco receiving the mark only surprised her because he accepted it before graduating from Hogwarts. Hermione wasn't quite certain what she expected to find behind the compartment door. Deciding not to waste any more time in thought, she knocked twice and entered without waiting.
Draco emerged from his thoughts as Hermione came in finding the boy sitting alone. His grey eyes looked up expectantly, and at the sight of her, had turned hard as he scowled. She was standing in the doorway, goggling at him like a small child at the zoo. Draco was used to the effect he had on girls – and often times grown woman as well – but to get the typical reaction from Granger was still a bit surprising.
"Like what you see, Granger?" He growled.
He watched her swallow hard. "Not bloody likely," she stammered.
Draco smirked. 'Women, they're so predictable, never want to admit they stare.'
"Y'know, just because you're Head Boy does not give you the right to grant yourself a private compartment."
"Yes well, not everyone has the company of Potty and Weasel to keep them entertained, Granger. Some like a little peace and quiet instead of constant yammering about rescuing puppies and kittens," Draco sneered in return. Who was she to be telling him what he could and couldn't do?
"What's the matter, Malfoy? Did Crabbe and Goyle finally grow brains and realize you're a terrible person?"
Draco carefully avoided the question. He would never admit to Granger that the two idiots were about as interesting as paint drying. "How did a filthy, little Mudblood like you get to become a Head Girl, Granger?"
Pure hatred shone in Hermione's brown eyes and Draco could tell she wasn't going to back down; in all honesty, he hoped she wouldn't. As much as he loathed admitting it, Hermione Granger had a willful spirit and an intellect he both admired and envied. It didn't help matters that she had managed to somehow come out looking beautiful this year. She stood in the doorframe wearing her school robes opened to expose the Hogwarts knee socks, kilt and blouse underneath. Many of the waif-like girls at school looked silly in the uniform, like walking clothes racks, but Hermione was able to fill it out nicely. Draco could see the gentle curve of her hips where she gripped them in annoyance. 'She wouldn't be half-bad looking if it weren't for that sour expression on her face' Draco thought sardonically. He couldn't help drawing his gaze down to the exposed skin below the hem of her kilt.
"Not everyone has to buy their way into privilege, Malfoy," she spat back, "some deserve their responsibilities."
His eyes whipped back up to her face. "For your information, Granger, I'm only second to you in our class so I deserve this position as much as you do."
Hermione smiled in return, "Yes and doesn't it just burn you up to know that you're second only to a 'filthy, little Mudblood'?" The smile vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. She turned to leave, "McGonagall wishes to meet with us at the back of the train," she added and left without waiting for a response.
Draco stood fuming in the empty compartment. He wanted to make her suffer for the humiliation of her words. He knew perfectly well that she was the only one to get higher grades than him. Absentmindedly he stroked his forearm; he vowed he would see her eat her words as he headed towards the back of the train. He imagined the pleasure of seeing Hermione Granger in agony at his hands. The image sent a shiver down his spine. 'Fit or not, she's still a Mudblood.' In Draco's opinion, there should never be mercy for Muggles.
'Get a hold of yourself, you idiot,' Hermione thought to herself. To her complete disappointment she found Malfoy devastatingly handsome. Last year she thought Lavender Brown, whom she overheard describing Malfoy to a group of Gryffindor girls, had gone insane. Lavender had a penchant for going a bit overboard with the dramatics and Hermione had to switch seats in the common room when Lavender likened Malfoy to a wild stallion – 'strong and untamed; the kind who'd put up a fight if you tried to mount it, but of course the ride is always worth it with those types, right?' – before she ended up laughing right in poor Lavender's face. Now, albeit begrudgingly, Hermione had, to an extent, agree; Malfoy was a stallion.
She snorted at the image of Malfoy's angular features plastered on the body of a Palomino. 'Well, maybe not a stallion.'
Hermione waited for ten minutes with Professor McGonagall at the back of the train before Malfoy strolled up casually, munching on an apple. This made neither Hermione nor the deputy headmistress very happy.
Now that she was appointed Head Girl Hermione knew, from previous experience as a Gryffindor Prefect, she would have access to special areas within Hogwarts; still, McGonagall's news shocked, thrilled, and appalled her, so much so, that she didn't know what to say at first.
"What do you mean I have to share a dormitory with her?" Malfoy demanded, throwing a suspicious look at Hermione.
McGonagall scowled, "This is precisely why I wished to speak with you before we get to the school; it's not a secret that neither one of you are particularly fond of each other, but for the sake of your new responsibilities I hope that you can solve this yourselves. You will share a bathroom and a common room, nothing else; you will have separate bedrooms on opposite ends of the dormitory. If you wish to stay in the Slytherin and Gryffindor dormitories I can have that arranged as well," she said and watched the two warily.
Hermione contemplated the options. If she moved to the Head dormitory this year she would have all the privacy she'd need to study for the NEWTS, albeit with an annoying git around every so often. However, if she were in Gryffindor again this year, although she'd be with friends, Harry and Ron would no doubt find a way to get her distracted. The decision seemed simple. Before she could respond, though, Malfoy spoke.
She couldn't contain the look of surprise as he address McGonagall. "You're quite right Professor, but I agree. This privilege is too great to throw away because of petty differences. I have no problems sharing a dormitory with Granger, so long as she doesn't." He sent a sardonic look at her impatient frown.
"Miss Granger?"
Hermione turned to McGonagall and shook her head, "Neither do I, Professor. Thank you for giving us an option."
Professor McGonagall nodded, "Good." She slipped back into the private compartment reserved for Professors, leaving the two glaring at each other.
The two Heads spent their final opening feast sending glances of disgust toward one another. Neither looked forward to after dinner when they would have to head up to their dormitory. Hermione hugged both Ron and Harry tightly at the foot of the stairs and promised them she would hex Malfoy if "he so-much-as looked at her funny", just like Ron suggested. From behind Harry, Hermione could see Malfoy still sitting at the Slytherin table with Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini, laughing over something. She was glad she'd be the first one into their rooms.
Hermione was pleased to find a crackling fire in the common room when she entered the Head dormitory. It followed the structure of the Gryffindor house, but the colours where warm chocolates and beiges. 'It figured they'd pick a neutral colour', she thought to herself. She made straight for her bedroom where she found her trunk by the foot of her four-poster bed.
After changing into her pajamas, Hermione headed back into the common room and sat down in front of the fire with Hogwarts, A History in hand. No matter how often she read it, Hermione still found it interesting. She was just reaching the chapter entitled Headmasters Through the Centuries when the suit of armour blocking the entrance stepped aside and Malfoy strode in looking tired and slightly disheveled. His robes were unbuttoned, a corner of his shirt had been pulled out of his trousers, and his tie was loosened. Malfoy plopped down unceremoniously onto the chair across from Hermione. She could feel his gaze upon her. 'He's doing this to get on my nerves' she surmised angrily, 'and, bloody hell, it's working!'
"What?" she snapped.
Malfoy shrugged, looking bored. "Is that all you do? Read?"
"Would you like a song and dance number? I'm not here to entertain you, Malfoy," Hermione replied in annoyance. She tried to redirect her attention to the book but –
"That's quite alright, Granger. I don't need your entertainment. I'll be plenty busy with Pansy and the other girls to be concerned with you."
Hermione didn't quite understand what he meant by his remark. "You aren't going to be bringing that sea cow into this dormitory, are you?"
Malfoy laughed brashly, "Well, if you intend on fooling around with Weasel and Scarface, why shouldn't I bring a girl or two when I have the desire to do so? I'm certainly not going to let a good opportunity go to waste."
Hermione's mouth hung open in disbelief. He didn't mean ... surely he wasn't implying ... By the way his eyebrow was cocked and his full lips were spread into a devilish smirk, he certainly was implying that Hermione was sleeping with both Harry and Ron. Instantly, she sprung to her feet, glaring angrily at Malfoy. "I am not sleeping with them!" she sputtered in fury, "and I will not let you turn this dormitory into your own private harem."
"Granger, just because your chastity belt is locked tighter than Gringotts doesn't mean I have to suffer for the sake of your innocence," Malfoy retorted.
"If I catch you sneaking a girl into the dormitory I'll change the password without telling you."
She could tell her threat had angered him. Malfoy got up from his chair and, taking two long steps, closed the distance between them. She didn't expecting him to grab her by the arms, squeezing her biceps until she wanted to cry out. She certainly didn't want him knowing she was afraid of him; her eyes shone defiantly while he clutched tighter and a whimper of pain escaped between gritted teeth.
His face was level with hers now and Hermione could see the fireplace reflected in his eyes, turning them into silver pools. "You wouldn't dare," he seethed.
"Try me," she muttered through clenched teeth.
Hermione hadn't been expecting him to grab her by the arms, but the action caused her stomach to plummet, from both fear and shear excitement. She was surprised to find a small part of her liked how easily she managed to affect him so powerfully. Was she actually enjoying watching him boil? There was no denying that the look of fury on his aquiline features made her want to hide, but it was also ... 'Fun? Am I having fun? I think there's a word for girl's like these ...' she thought to herself.
"You're a real pricktease, you know that, Granger?"
She could feel the heat rush up to her cheeks. She didn't know what was more embarrassing, what he just called her, or the fact that she was thinking the exact same thing.
"Oh that's rich," she replied impertinently, "coming from a brat prince who's never been on the receiving end of a firm no."
She could feel his hot breath on her cheek as he glared down at her. "Other than you, Mudblood, no one has ever wanted to refuse me."
"Really? Do you ever present the opportunity? Or do you just take what you want and ask questions later?"
"Do you really want to find out?"
His question sent the butterflies ricocheting inside Hermione's stomach. She shot her best look of disgust at him. Malfoy finally released his grip on her arms and she pushed him away from her, gathering up her book and heading to her room. She wanted to snap a witty retort back at him but the only thing that came to mind was her answering in a very wispy voice 'No, Malfoy ... maybe you could ... show me?' and then letting him ravish her 'til she was breathless; the idea made her burn even more. She couldn't recall ever wishing being ravished by anyone, least of all Malfoy! Thankfully, the bedroom door was shut and she didn't have to worry about seeing Malfoy's infuriatingly handsome face until morning. 'With luck, maybe he sleeps in,' Hermione prayed, climbing into bed.
She awoke the next morning slowly. The previous night's excitement caused her to toss and turn in bed, mulling over Malfoy's last question as though she actually entertained the thought. The night would have been better spent resting after the long journey to Hogwarts but it simply wasn't in the cards for Hermione. She cursed the sun, which was just starting to peak above the horizon and wished for another three hours in the night. 'I probably would have just wasted those anyway.'
Crookshanks, sensing her awake, padded over to her from the foot of the bed and prodded her hand with his fat ginger head, she scratched at his ear inattentively. Normally, she enjoyed rising before dawn, but the first night with her fellow Head only made her feel apprehensive about the coming day. If this was how the year was headed, Hermione didn't know what she would do. It was her final year at Hogwarts and she would have to endure nightly taunting by the one person she loathed most. 'Maybe I should hex him,' she thought, slipping into her dressing gown. 'Then I would only have to worry about ferret droppings around the common room.'
Stifling a yawn, she climbed down the stairs, clutching a bath towel and her favourite loofah brush, intent on washing away the memories of last night, along with the grime from the journey to Hogwarts. She was annoyed to find steam coming from underneath the closed bathroom door. 'Who knew brats were early risers?' The door swung open before she could knock and a damp Malfoy sauntered out of the bathroom, clutching a towel to his waist and rubbing at his platinum locks with another.
He was whistling a tune she hadn't heard when the door was closed and smiled broadly as he waited for her to step aside to let him pass. Her eyes swung down his exposed chest, broad shoulders enclosed by porcelain white skin.
She watched as tiny beads of slid down his belly and disappeared into the towel he clung at his waist. She couldn't keep the 'Oh my!' from escaping her lips.
Malfoy whispering into her ear, "Like what you see, Granger?" before prodding her to the side and heading for the stairs. The scent of Malfoy hit her as he strode by; it was a woodsy smell, like he had been in the Forbidden Forest right before showering.
"You startled me," she called after him futilely.
She could hear him chortling before he closed his bedroom door. 'Good going, idiot,' she thought derisively, 'now he thinks you're mad for him, just like any other girl.' She berated herself for looking like a ninny. Knowing Malfoy, he would bring it up each chance he could get. She could just see the look on Ron or Harry's face; they'd laugh disbelievingly, but no doubt she would start blushing and she would have to explain herself.
'How do you explain to a couple of boys it's not you but your body's reaction?' She turned on the shower, allowing the bathroom to get steamy before slipping under the curtain of water. 'On second thought, perhaps that won't be so hard. They are teenage boys, after all.'
Hermione didn't see Malfoy again until their last class of the day. When she came out of the bathroom, he had already left for the Great Hall and she did her best to keep from looking over at the Slytherin table while eating breakfast with Ron and Harry. Professor McGonagall came around with the timetables and her heart sank when upon inspection she found they were to have Herbology with the Slytherins at the end of the day. 'Suppose it's foolish to think I can avoid him all day'. Harry asked her over his eggs and bacon how her first night in the new dormitory went. She wanted to tell him how Malfoy embarrassed her, but she knew that it would most likely only lead to an unneeded conflict between her best friend and her fellow Head.
The day past quickly and before she knew it, Hermione was following Ron and Harry down to greenhouse number five where they found Neville already waiting inside, stroking the petals of a blooming flower; the flower purred in return.
"It's a Belladonna," Neville explained to Ron's upturned eyebrow.
"It's purring," Ron said suspiciously - he was a little weary of plants ever since the incident with the Devil's Snare in second year.
"They like physical contact. So long as you're not strangling its stem, the belladonna will purr whenever you touch it." Neville caressed the violet petals one last time before joining the other Gryffindors.
Hermione had already known, having read Common Herbs, Fungi and Flowers a while back, but Ron looked impressed. While they stood in the entrance to the greenhouse, Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown – who were inseparable, it seemed – joined the group. They were discussing a dress robe that Parvati's mother had bought her; from the sound of it, Mrs. Patil had committed a major fashion faux pas and Lavender was engrossed in Parvati's story of the robe's dismissal.
There were enough people around, waiting for Professor Sprout to show up, that no one noticed when Harry pulled Hermione to the side. She knew what he wanted to talk about even before he uttered the words.
"Has Malfoy been behaving himself?" Harry asked. "And tell me the truth because – "
"You're dying to hurt him?" She finished sardonically, an eyebrow raised. She was touched by Harry's concern.
"No!" He denied vehemently, but a mischievous smile was scrawled across his handsome face and his eyes twinkled with laughter. His expression turned serious again, "But he is a Death Eater and he hates Muggles. I wouldn't be surprised if he's already threatened you with all sorts of torture if you get in his way."
"Harry, he can't do anything to me here at Hogwarts, no matter how much he wants to. Even his father would think he's daft if he attacked me right under the nose of Dumbledore."
He still looked unconvinced.
"Really, neither you nor Ron should worry," she insisted.
A familiar voice came from behind Hermione's back, "That's right, Potter." Hermione felt Malfoy's arm plop down on her shoulder, pulling her into a half-embrace. "The Mudblood and I are going to be the best of pals. We've got a nice private dormitory all to ourselves." He looked proudly at Harry. "We can even walk around naked if we like."
A wave of heat rushed to Hermione's face. She pushed Malfoy's arm off her shoulder and whipped around to glare into his smirking face. "You can walk around naked if you like, but I sincerely hope you don't; I really don't enjoy being violently ill." She could hear Harry laughing behind her.
"Something tells me you'd enjoy the free show, Granger."
"She's not in any hurry to go blind, Malfoy," Ron now piped up, walking up to Harry's side.
Hermione could feel both boys standing, and the rest of the seventh year Gryffindors, behind her. Malfoy was flanked by his goons, along with Pansy and the other Slytherins. It was a Mexican standoff but the humor of the situation was lost on Hermione. She knew exactly what was about to come from Malfoy – and he didn't disappoint:
"She didn't seem to mind this morning, Weasel."
Ron snorted derisively, "Don't flatter yourself, Malfoy."
"Why don't you ask the little Mudblood?"
Hermione could not have been embarrassed. 'Why doesn't Hogwarts have holes to sink into for moments like these?' She could feel the eyes of every student waiting outside greenhouse number five on her.
"You caught me by surprise, you creep," she hissed at Malfoy.
Ron, who was near enough to hear what she said, goggled at Hermione. "You saw him naked?!"
"No!"
The expression on Malfoy's face proved how much he was enjoying Hermione's discomfort. She determined he had no shame to let everyone think he was walking around their dormitory with nothing on except a smile. The scandalized faces of Ron and Harry were too much for her.
"He was just getting out of the shower –"
"And she tried to break down the door and ravish me," Malfoy finished for her.
Hermione saw Pansy killing herself with laughter, as she doubled over and held onto Millicent Bulstrode for support.
"Oh honestly, Malfoy, just grow up!" She scolded him before striding past the rest of the class – which had by that time gathered around the pair. Professor Sprout, along with the rest of the class, had filed into the greenhouse.
Safely between Ron and Harry, Hermione thought Malfoy would behave himself, but as he walked past them she overheard him talking to Pansy. "Of course I would never lay hands on a filthy Mudblood, Pansy ... it was only a joke."
"The feeling's mutual,' Hermione thought violently as she threw her textbook down on the table, causing the Ron and Harry to jump.
A/N: I want to thank my beta's because they are simply fabulous. They've stuck by the rewrites and my silly notes. You ladies know who you are ;)