Lay down your head, my love.
Human on my faithless arm. –W. H. Auden

Any minute now her enchanted alarm clock would screech, and she'd have to get up, get ready for classes or Heads' duties or whatever. Yuck. She so did not want to surface from this, the sweet wooly laziness of sleep. Her skin felt comfy, muscles soft and loose, and she was beautifully warm. Admittedly there was something not quite perfect about the position she lay in, more cramped than usual, but even that wasn't much of an obstacle to her delight; the new snugness was, actually, rather satisfying.

Only this patch refused to move from under her cheek. Damn it. The rough embroidery just wouldn't budge, and--

--PATCH??????????

Hermione woke up in a flash.

She first recognized the couch. How often had she taken a nap on it? Malfoy used to tease her about being like a cat, but she didn't care. The couch was about 5'11", just two inches shorter than Ron. So why was she in the Heads' common room, curled up on the couch?

Then she remembered the patch under her cheek and realized that it was sewn to a Hogwarts robe, and the robe was on... on... oh Merlin.

How... did... Draco Malfoy... wind... up... under... her???? Or she on top of him, sort of, it was more of a half-thing, really, what with her legs stretched out along his, not quite intertwined, and her arm was laying docilely across his chest and his arm around her shoulder-gah, whatever; how did she end up like this?????

Think, think. Now yesterday afternoon, a Saturday, she had been trying to explain to Draco what a television was, and finally had just conjured an enchanted one to save trouble. They had finally ended up watching Aladdin. Hermione had been able to conjure up some popcorn, which amazed Draco, who had never seen a kernel of popcorn.It was a reallygood movie, but none of it explained how Draco Malfoy was asleep with her on the couch.

Whatever. The issue at hand was escaping with the least possible amount of humiliation. Though it was interesting to wonder who'd be more embarrassed by the arrangement, Hermione or He of the Mudblood-Hating-Slytherins.

"Hey, Draco." Nothing.

"Draco." Still nothing.

"Malfoy! Wake up!!!" He might as well be dead right now.

For someone who was such a high-strung bundle of nerves and hatred during his waking hours, Draco did a shockingly valid impression of a narcoleptic.

Hermione groaned softly. Great. Here she was stuck on the couch, with Draco Malfoy, asleep nonetheless. If Ron or Harry ever saw her like this, they would not hesitate to be the crap out of Draco. Next, she would be in for a long yelling speech by Ron while Harry just would look betrayed and hurt. She didn't understand why Harry and Ron hated Draco so much. She supposed that it was just a mortal enemy thing.

But when Draco Malfoy had been made Head Boy, she had prepared herself for a long grueling year. When she had offered friendship to the tall boy with the iron eyes after two months, deciding to trust hopeful insight, Hermione had been prepared to deal with a divided character. She had been ready to accept pieces, rather than be allowed the whole. In general, a part of her had been braced for disappointment.

And then, so suddenly it felt accidental, Hermione saw she didn't have to, and she swiftly learned to translate the quirks, jokes, occasional insults, and the smirks. Yes, pieces were what he exposed but each piece, each little trait and minor fact, adhered to the other. What she knew about Malfoy combined with what she learned about Draco until one day Hermione realized she no longer saw the distinction. Oh, she remained aware of it, of course, but on a purely studious level. Otherwise she was immune. The dichotomy she had so determinedly arranged for had evaporated, dissolved into something amazingly simple and plain; Draco Malfoy was Hermione's friend.

She had known Malfoy, the jeering, hated, Slytherin ferret Seeker whose father was dead, but she also knew Draco. Draco, who was brilliant at Gobstones, but amazingly horrible at Exploding Snap. Draco, who was a Libra, one month older than her. The Draco that would truly pick pumpkin juice over Muggle soda, but you could bring him to his knees with a simple chocolate bar (Hermione actually did that once.).

Asleep, he was almost sweet. Even, dare she think it, cute, with some blond hair flopping over his closed iron gray eyes.

"But I swear to Merlin, you are so going to lose it when you wake up." Hermione whispered. She now had two options: to either wake him up somehow, or remain, waiting.

Thoughtfully, Hermione closed her eyes, halfway suspicious of her common sense but not dreadfully worried. Of course, he'd freak upon waking, embarrassed, outraged or maybe just stunned, and she'd have to do her best not to blush. Or laugh. Or maybe both. But whatever Draco's reaction, no matter how indignant or scared, she knew that it would be just another thing to know about him. Slowly, yes, but surely, the pieces kept coming together and Hermione had confidence in the shape they were taking.

Because why shouldn't she? After all, faith had brought her this far. Faith, and with it friendship, were what helped her keep up with Draco, hopscotching over all the insignificant faults and tantrums. Hermione was learning to understand that all too often it wasn't a matter of "and/or", of whom you were versus who you could be, wasn't about what you had to give or were willing to take. Nor was it as simple as taking a step in a new direction, because this wasn't the kind of thing you could learn to map. There were differences and there were similarities; life was not particularly obvious about explaining which was what.

Because sometimes a step in the right direction meant staying exactly where you were.

Fifteen minutes later, as Hermione's breathing grew deep and even, the other hand slid across Hermione's hand (the one on Draco's chest) gently and rested there.

Eyes closed, but still awake, Draco Malfoy smiled.

For now, his happiness was complete.

'cause I know there is strength
in the differences between us
and I know there is comfort
where we overlap. –Ani DiFranco, "Overlap"

Fin

AN: TAADAA!!! New one-shot fic that I thought of. You always hear of Draco and Hermione sleeping together ( yes, I mean THAT WAY!) but here is a more innocent fic for the younger crowds. Of, course, the couple is fully clothed (I'm not a hentai!) And, HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!!!