DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters. Or the settings. Only a few souls here and there.
- - -
It wasn't her fault! She screamed it again and again, but no one was listening. Why couldn't they hear her? What was wrong?! She opened her mouth to say something and water poured in. She couldn't breath, she was drowning! Suddenly she heard footsteps. Someone was coming. None of it made sense. Where was she? Where was the water coming from? Her brain tried to organise thoughts and think things through, but it wasn't happening. The water was over her head and the footsteps stopped. Somebody spoke.
"Good riddance."

- - -

Hermoine woke up suddenly, her frizzy hair matted with sweat and her covers rumpled. At least this time she hadn't woken anyone up with her nightmare. She ran her fingers through her hair, giving up after a few moments. In all of her sixteen years of life, it had always been unruly. At her six years of Hogwarts, she had yet to find a spell that could and would succeed in calming the mess that was her hair. It seemed that her locks were the only unorganised things in her life.

She sighed and threw the covers off. There was no way that she would be able to sleep again. Smiling ruefully to herself, she padded down into the common room. A muggle scrunchie held her hair in a loose pony tail at the nape of her neck, most strands escaping. She fixed it and straightened her clothes, the tank top had come askew as she had slept, the pants riding up to her waist. She forced them back to her hips and looked down at her figure. She wasn't the skinniest thing. Her waist went in and she had a sizeable bum, and a little bit of fat on her stomach, but no one seemed to notice that. If she stood straight, it all but disaperated, making her feel better. Her brown eyes scanned the common room, noticing that she was the only one not in bed. An unusual occurrence, she thought to herself, until she looked at the clock. Aiya! It was two o'clock in the morning! No wonder everyone else was asleep!

She looked around the room again. Nothing was appealing to her. She needed something to take her mind off the nightmare before she thought about it too much. Something that would entertain her, something like... a book. But where to get a book at this hour? She had long ago read all of the books she had and needed something new. The library was what first popped into her head, but it was long ago closed. She thought longer, but honestly could not think of anywhere else to get books from. She sighed again, knowing what she would have to do. Taking a page out of the Weasley Twins' book, she snuck out and down to the library.

The door was slightly ajar when she reached it. It surprised her, but she simply assumed that the librarian had forgotten to properly close it. If only she had known.

She walked in and towards her favourite shelf, one filled with old, dusty volumes that nobody read anymore. She was just stretching up to get one when she heard something. She paused and strained her ears. There it was again. A slight rustle. Like someone turning pages. She almost smacked herself in the head. Of course! Someone else had obviously had the same idea as her and picked out a good book to read. She breathed with relief and turned back to the books on the shelf in front of her. The book she wanted was next to an empty space, and she frowned when she saw it. She was the only one who read the books here. Why would someone else even touch them? A page was turned again and Hermoine decided to investigate.
She crept to the other end of the shelf and peaked her head out. There was a boy there, with bleach blonde hair and cold, calculating eyes, reading an old, dusty book.

Hermoine gasped without thinking. What was that Malfoy brat doing here? His eyes flew up when he heard her.

She whirled back around so that she was out of sight, but she couldn't tell if he had seen her or not.

- - -

Draco Malfoy was not in a good mood. He had been woken up by an owl from his father, only to discover that it was a meaningless note, then to discover that he could not, for the life of him, fall back asleep. He had gone to the library to get some peace from the Slytherins that littered their common room, even at this hour. A good book was what he had wanted, so he had gone for the older volumes. A small noise had registered in the back of his mind and made him look up just in time to see a few locks of hair turn a corner. He furrowed his brows while thinking, his mind still mainly on the book.

Who would be up at this hour, in the library, and surprised to see him? He put the book down carefully and grasped his wand firmly in his hand. He crept forwards, then jumped aside so that he was facing the row between the books. Imagine his surprise to find none other than Granger there.

She jumped and her hand flew to her wand.

"What are you doing in here?" He sneered.

"Well, seeing as it's a library, I'm getting a book. What are you doing?" Granger spat back.

"Looking up poisons to kill Potty, though I didn't think that I'd meet any mudbloods." She turned red and her hair cackled with electricity. "Oh, don't get your knickers in a twist, Granger. I was just kidding."

Hermoine was surprised. Did he just... apologise? His eyes roamed over her as she looked over him. His hair was slightly tousled from his sleep, and he wasn't wearing a shirt. He had such pale skin, and a nice set of abbs. He probably had a personal trainer, what with all that money of his. The pants he was wearing were riding low on his hips and the blackness of them seemingly fell to the floor and crumpled. They were very baggy. She looked back up to his face, noticing his pouty lips and straight nose. He ran his tongue over his lower lip and her eyes met his.

He was leering at her.

She blinked a few times until she realised that her top was slipping suggestively low, as were her pants. She gasped and pulled up her top, fixing the tie on her pants once she had accomplished her fist task. He merely grinned and leaned against a book shelf.

"So what're you doing up this late, Granger?" He asked nonchalantly, a part of him wanting to know why. It didn't surprise him too much, though, he loved knowing everything.

"I-I had a nightmare." Hermoine said quietly, then cursed herself for telling him. She didn't want him to know, for he was sure to tease her endlessly, but at the same time she knew that she had to tell someone.

"What? The little witch had a bad dream?" He asked mockingly.

Hermoine decided to ignore his tone. "It was the oddest thing. I was screaming, but no one could hear me, and then I was in water. I was drowning, but nobody came to save me. There were footsteps, but it was only someone who came to watch me die." She shivered. "'Good riddance', was what they said."

There was some sort of recognition in Draco's eyes, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Sounds like a normal dream to me," he said blankly.

"But it wasn't!" Hermoine looked directly at him as she spoke. "It was so vivid. I could feel the water in my mouth, the struggle as my lungs fought to breathe, the absolute horror of the man's final words to me." She shivered again and realised that it was rather cold in the library. Draco noticed this but didn't say anything. If the mudblood wanted to catch a chill, let her.
When he had looked her over earlier, he hadn't failed to notice the top slipping and revealing more of her body, though not enough to be indecent. He had noticed that she had pulled her hair away from her face and looked a good deal prettier for it. No, not prettier, just more presentable. He noticed that she was still shivering.

Looking around, he also noticed his cloak on the floor where he had discarded it earlier. He picked it up and draped it around her shoulders, noticing as he did that she looked very nice with a Slytherin badge.

She looked up at him and he shook himself. No, he would not think like that. She tilted her head to the side in question and he cocked a grin at her. He moved closer until he could feel her breath on his face.

"Draco..." She said breathlessly, then trailed off. It took them both a moment to realise that she had used his first name.
He withdrew form her and smirked. Or at least, he tried to.

"Don't get all simpering with me now, Her-Granger." He corrected himself. Her eyes flew open in surprise.

"You just..."

"And so did you."

They stared at each other for a moment before Hermoine opened her mouth to say something. Draco knew what was coming, and abruptly, he turned and walked back to his chair, picked up his book, and continued reading. Hermoine took his cue and got her book from the shelf, found a comfortable chair, and snuggled into it, settling the book on her lap and flipping to the first page.

---

Draco woke up suddenly, realising that he had just fallen asleep. He looked around him and noticed that it was still dark out. He still had time to reach his rooms before morning. Stretching, he scratched his stomach and realized that he didn't have his cloak. He also then realised that he had given it to Hermoine. No, Granger, and he had leant it to her. Looking around the library, he quickly spotted her asleep in a chair, just as he had been moments before. But she was curled up, her knees drawn up and her back resting against the arm rest, her side leaning against the back of the chair. The book had fallen to the floor, and the black cloak was wrapping her in a warm cacoon. Draco was loath to take it from her, but he knew that he needed it.
Kneeling in front of her chair, he poked her gently.

"Hermoine, I need my cloak back."

She opened her eyes half way, very sleepily, and smiled at him. He smiled back, not really knowing what else to do. She mumbled his name and leaned forwards to hug him, making him blink in surprise and forcing him to catch her. When he turned her in his arms, she was asleep again.

Picking her up, he decided that he would just have to drop her off at the Gryffindor house and let her friends take care of her. He put their books away and carried her down the corridor a bit before realising that he had no idea where the Gryffindors where.

Rolling his eyes at his own stupidity, he wandered off in the direction that most Gryffindors came form and left towards, Hermoine Granger sleeping peacefully in his arms.