Chapter 8

When Draco woke up the next morning, he quickly noted that several things were wrong.

Firstly: He had insomnia, how could he possibly be 'waking up'?

Secondly: Who's hand was it that was comfortably laying on top of his hip?

Oh right, Potter's.

Okay then... Thirdly: Why has Draco not pounced on him yet, or vice versa? The last time Draco had encountered Potter the mating pull had been irresistible. He would have let Potter take him right there, up against the classroom wall, if it hadn't been for Granger's interruption. Bless her for it, by the way. So what happened?

Lastly: Why doesn't Potter smell like Potter.

Why does he smell like Granger?

"Granger?" Draco asked the person laying behind him.

"Shhhht" he got in reply. "Go back to sleep".

"Granger, what exactly are you doing in my bed?" Draco asked the Gryffindor who, as Draco could see after turning unto his other side, laid next to him in what had been Potter's clothes.

"Helping you to sleep" Hermione answered with a yawn. "It helped didn't it?"

While she tried to stifle her yawn, Draco leaned in and thoroughly sniffed Hermione's face.

"Polyjuice potion" Draco smirked after recognising the distinct aroma.

How could he have missed that? Polyjuice potion does not only mimic the person's looks, but also his or her smell. Granger had known that Potter couldn't approach him without endangering himself, so she had taken his place in giving Draco the physical contact his body needed while fooling his senses with Polyjuice potion. Clever little Witch.

Hermione stared back at him with wide eyes after having watched Malfoy sniffing her face. First he had grown a bunny tail and now he was sniffing her like a puppy?

Every day he was turning more and more into some sort of cute little animal.

Hermione couldn't help but to take in the appearance of her bed partner. Malfoy's usually impeccable hair was a bit muzzled up, giving him a boyish look that Hermione hadn't even seen when she had known him while still being a little boy.

Why did she suddenly have trouble breathing?

It positively had nothing to do with the fact that she was currently sharing a bed with one of the best looking young men at Hogwarts.

It also wasn't because her arm was now loosely wrapped around his bare waist, his shirt having risen up while he had rolled unto his other side.

Neither was it because she was merely inches away from the lips that had been able to turn her insides to mush when they had touched her own.

Nor was it because she desperately wanted him to kiss her again.

Oh hell!

"Since we're both awake there's no use for lingering about," Hermione squeaked as she jumped of the bed as if it had caught fire. "I'm going to get ready for classes."

Draco smirked as he got full view of Granger, who was now standing up. Draco had often heard that girls in men's clothing looked endearing and, now that he had seen it, he had to agree with that statement. Having transformed back into her own body Granger's clothes had grown several sizes too big, making her look like she was drowning in them. And her usually already bushy hair had gone into complete disarray and was all over the place. Draco thought that she looked rather... cute.

"What?" Hermione asked warily as she caught Malfoy looking at her funny.

"Nothing" Draco said offhandedly. "Just thinking that you look cute, that's all."

Hermione blessed the fates that it was still rather dark in the room, as her face must have been a sight to see. If she were a cartoon character, her eyes would have propelled out of her skull on string wires and her yaw would have hit the floor with her tongue rolling out as if it were a dropped roll of toilet paper.

She had not expected him to say that.

Did Malfoy just say she looked cute?

"Right, see you later" Hermione said in an unemotional tone as she turned around and left the room. She marched into her bedroom, closed the door, grabbed a pillow, pressed it into her face and screamed into it from the top of her lungs.

When she felt a bit better, she sat herself down on the edge her bed to do some thinking. Why did she just scream into her pillow like a prepubescent girl with a temper tantrum?

Malfoy had said she looked cute.

Right, so she didn't deal with compliments very well.

Okay, that's a big fat lie. She thrived on compliments; they made her feel good about herself. One might not think it because of the proud way she carried herself, but Hermione has always had some issues with self-confidence. Ever since she had first started attending Muggle pre-school, she had used her excellence in academics as a shield to cover up her insecurities. The thought that her grades might slip had always been her greatest fear. If she didn't have her smarts, what else did she have? The fact that her Boggart had been McGonagall telling her that she failed all of her exams should say enough.

No, she didn't have a problem with compliments.

Not about grades or achievements anyway.

The fact was that she didn't know how to react to someone complimenting her looks.

She knew she wasn't a stunner. She had bushy hair, a mousy complexion and her figure was a bit too curvy for her own liking. No one had ever told her that she looked pretty, so why would she think the contrary? The only time anyone had complemented her appearance was when she had attended the Yule ball in fourth year. And Hermione reckoned that that was only because she had spent the whole afternoon in front of the mirror. Even then people were mostly surprised by the fact that she had worn a dress, had make-up on, had smoothened her hair and shocker apparently was a girl. She wasn't prepared to spend hours prettying herself up every day just to blend in with the rest of the pack. Her goal wasn't to excel in her looks, it was to excel in her acts. This was something she had decided long ago and was perfectly okay with.

And now Malfoy had said she looked cute.

Hermione got up from the bed and walked towards her closet to pick out her clothes for the day. When she opened the door and caught sight of her own reflection into the mirror on the inside of the door, she concluded that Malfoy had to be mocking her. She looked pale, her eyes were poufy and her hair looked like a giant birds nest. Not to mention the humungous clothes that made her look like she weighed 200 pounds.

No, he had obviously been sarcastic. Especially when considering that Malfoy had always been the first to call Hermione on her physical flaws.

But that still didn't explain as to why she reacted so strongly to the thought that he might not have been kidding.

"I liked the way he kissed, that is all!" Hermione told herself as she pulled Harry's shirt over her head and threw it unto the bed.

Last night Hermione had been on Harry's side of the equation. And even if it had been for only an hour, she could say that it had been quite the experience. Harry had given her one of his hairs (she could have just taken it, but didn't want to betray her friend's trust like that), helped her steal some Polyjuice potion from Snape's cupboard and had given her some of his clothes to wear. He had insisted that she put them on before the transformation and made her promise not to do any 'peeking' while in his body. She had complied (if somewhat reluctantly) and had postponed the exploration of the male anatomy to yet another date on her calendar.

Malfoy had expressed nothing but bother and contempt upon her arrival in his bedroom, yet his eyes had been full of hunger and lust, as he had been devouring her body with his eyes. She had almost physically cringed under his gaze. At that point, Hermione had nearly fled the room, finding it hard to deal with the fact that Malfoy was looking at her like that, yet not. Hermione had to keep telling herself that it was Harry who he was attracted to and not she herself. No one had ever looked at her that way, with such hunger and raw animal passion. When Malfoy had looked at her like that, she had never felt more rejected in her life. And she couldn't even fully comprehend why.

She had never really taken much interest in the opposite sex in any other way than friendship, so -unlike most of her peers- she hadn't actually had a boyfriend yet. And it wasn't exactly as if boys were lining up to go out with her. Perhaps one day a person would look past her plain exterior and fancy her for her smarts. But as of yet, she had never found herself walking down a street with young men yearningly shouting at her "Whoa, look at that brain!"

When she had forcefully spooned herself behind Malfoy she had just pretended that he knew it was her who was behind him. That there was someone who enjoyed her touch and found her presence so intoxicating that it immediately brought him into a pleasant slumber. After a while, she had felt herself transforming back into her own body while still cradling his sleeping form. Last night had been the longest she had been that physically close to another person. Never in her life had she felt more feminine while holding that undeniably sexy man in her arms. She also hated herself for doing it without his knowledge and in the guise of treatment.

Hermione stopped to look at herself into the mirror of her bathroom. She felt like spitting at her reflection. She had always thought that having full knowledge about her own strengths and flaws would spare her from getting hurt. She knew that she wasn't the kind of person who anyone would 'lust after' or would want to 'conquer'. That knowledge had made her feel safe; as long as she didn't expect anyone to feel these things towards her, she wouldn't get hurt. But when last night Malfoy had looked at her as if he had wanted to devour her very soul, she realised that she might actually want to be lusted after and wanted to be conquered. By Malfoy, no less.

But why?

She didn't have any feelings for Malfoy!

She did not even like him!

He wasn't even her type. He was constantly smirking, drawling, and sneering and always talked in that silky seductive tone of voice. It was as if he wanted to warn everyone that he could seduce him or her just with the sound of his voice. He wasn't going to, because you were beneath him, but he just wanted you to know that he could.

Moreover, he looked too perfect. His flawlessly symmetric face annoyed her. It was pointy and aristocratic and it looked as if he was made to look superior.

Which he really wasn't!

Hermione strongly suspected him of using Foundation, because no ones skin could be that smooth and spotless without any external help. His hair always looked like he had used a ruler to see if it all was exactly the way it should be. He never wore the same clothes more than one day in a row and they never had a crease or a spot on them. Draco Malfoy might look like a picture from the cover of one of those smutty romance novels, but he had one other thing in common with those pictures.

He was fake.

Malfoy had been thought how to dress and how to behave since was still in his foetal-stage. He was like a sculpture, moulded from a glob of clay into what the artist wanted it to look like.

A sculpture with an annoying attitude at that. He was spoiled, always got what her wanted and just couldn't let the little things go.

No, she was not jealous of the fact that he just said what he wanted to say and whenever he wanted to say it, without caring if people would dislike him for it or not.

Nor did she admire him for his persistence when he wanted something and his ability in getting it.

And she thoroughly hated the fact that he always questioned her actions and decisions and actually was intelligent and clever enough to do so without looking stupid.

Neither did Hermione internally applaud him when he came up with yet another witty retort to her one of her own banters.

And nor did she actually like fighting with him because it made her able to cut loose and let everything out while being clever and creative at the same time.

Nor did the dishevelled sight of him in the morning make her feel privileged for being one of the select few to have seen it.

And neither did she enjoy the fact that apparently she was the only one he trusted to share his problems with.

And she also didn't feel ashamed to know that when he looked at her, or touched her, or even kissed her; he rather wanted to be with Harry.

She didn't.

And besides, the whole dating-thing was rather pathetic really. A girl would be swooning over some dim-witted guy, only to break up with that very same guy after one only week because he hadn't noticed that she was wearing new nail polish, or what not. At least she had the brains to know that it is actually possible to be a whole person without being in a relationship. Hermione had observed those juvenile mating-rituals plenty to know that they weren't something she would want to engage in.

Even if it came with hugging, snogging, spooning and... other stuff she didn't even dare to let her mind drift off to.

She didn't.

Hermione sighed in defeat as she looked at her reflection with disdain.

"Hi, I'm Hermione Granger and I have the Florence Nightingale Syndrome" she said aloud as if she were currently attending a self-support group.

"That's nice dear" the mirror replied with a yawn. "But before you go into therapy, you first might want to do something about that hair."

&&&&&&&&&&&&

End of Chapter 8

A/N: For those who are not familiar with the term, Florence Nightingale Syndrome is the term they give a nurse who falls in love with her patient.

Thanks for reviewing!

Myob, Zaralya, Male-chan, slyswn28, hermyandron4evr, baily89, lollylover, blackfly, mandabella, Roja-Cyd, ReginicSade87, charmed piper,

magictrousers830: Sounds like a good idea, although the room isn't all that big and I don't think they'd all fit in there. Not to mention the work I'd have on describing 'who's hands are where'. I hope you had fun while playing S.P.A.N.K., though.

AllWeNeedIsLove: LOL! I know what you mean. It's odd, but in real life I've never actually met another Slasher before. Where are you people?

Queen of Serpents: Woman! I was just checking my reviews in the school library (which is really quiet) and you made me burst out into snorts of laughter. Dumbledore in a thong? Rofl! That's just wrong! My updating scares you? :-) Yes this is prewritten. I only start posting my stories when I start writing my last chapter. As I write I always come up with stuff to add into previous chapters, so I can't really write chronologically. And besides, I think readers appreciate the speedy updates. And the two weeks of constant posting are really fun for me. The reviews are like daily presents. :-)

Waterprincess: Harry is Draco's mate, but it's a Draco/Hermione story. Don't worry, people are confused all over the place. :-)

o0-ireth-0o: Oh gods, I can only imagine what it would be like to have someone tapping you on the shoulder to tell you you're having your period because she can smell it. Lol! Poor you. But I suppose it must be rather fun to be 'all knowing'? And no, I'm not a Veela, I just look like one. Desperately tries to keep a straight face after previous statement

Evil Duckie of the BlackLagoon: WOW! SO MANY CAPS! THANK YOU! :-)

Munku-JGSPTV: Dumbledore/Dobby/Hagrid? How would that work? Lol!

Dizzydragon: The thing is that Draco can't see Hermione yet. He's essentially gay. Girls don't make him tingle just now. And thanks for you review on WDSNBUT!

Darlin-Gurl: Patience, it's coming...

Lillia Malfoy: BANG Congratulations, you've just been hit by a piano. For further explanation, please consult the A/N on chapter 6. ;-) Thanks though. Besides, I think this chapter about answered your question.

Craziwidder: BANG Congratulations, you've just been hit by a piano. For further explanation, please consult the A/N on chapter 6. :-)

Hermione Double: Aw, I hope the problem fixes itself. And don't pull out your hair!