It's been a while but yes I've updated. I still don't own Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy... trust me thelist could go on. I hope ya'll like this chapter.

Your long brown hair
Falling on your face the way it used to fall on mine
At one time
A long time ago
I still remember everything you said to me that night

Draco woke up the next day in a fog. He felt, before he saw, a person in his arms. He hadn't been trashed last night so it was a puzzle to him. That was until the night before came back to him in waves.

"Damn it." he muttered, snatching his arms to his chest and moving off of the bed as quickly as possible. "What the hell did I do?" he asked himself as he inspected the situation.

Granger was laying on her stomach, her hair on his, HIS, pillow, mouth slightly opened. Was that drool at the corner of her mouth?

"Granger! Get out of my room." he demanded, hoping he wouldn't have to touch her in order to wake her.

"Go away, to early." he heard her throw back at him. He raised an eye brow at her answer and looked around for something to poke her with.

He frowned when he came up with nothing and turned back to her. She was still sleeping, her eyes tightly closed and her mouth still hanging open, she'd been hanging around Weasel to much.

"Granger, I demand you get out of my bed." he ordered, drawing himself up to his full height.

"Go away!" she yelled at him, before turning over and dragging his sheets over her head.

"What the hell?" he asked himself, watching as she found a more comfortable spot in his bed.

He stared at her, expecting her to wake up if only by feeling his eyes on her, God knew he couldn't sleep with someone watching him. She seemed to have no problem though. He heard a slight snore coming from her and couldn't stop the laugh that came out. She didn't wake up at his out burst either. What in the hell got this girl up in the morning?

"Crook's?" she called out, her head peeking up from under the sheets.

"Your bloody cat is in your bloody room, Granger." he shot at her, hoping she would finally leave his room.

"What are you doing in my.... oh my gosh!." she exclaimed, jumping out of his bed and running for the bathroom.

Whatever the hell crook's was, Draco owed it a bag of Galleons. After a long shower, filled with scrubbing to get rid of all traces of Granger, Draco entered the common room.

"Malfoy? What was wrong with you last night?"Granger spat at him a while later when they were sitting on the common room couch, her reading a book and claiming to listen to music from a circular, almost flat tube like thing. He was just staring into the fire.

"Nothing was wrong with me last night. Why the hell did you come into my room" he countered, seeing no reason for her to be the one in a bad mood. He'd woken up with her in his arms. Had the tables been reversed she probably would have had the best day of her life.

"So you woke me up with your screaming for nothing?" she asked, he could almost feel her roll her eyes at him.

"I don't scream." he said through gritted teeth.

"Fine, it's your story. Tell it the way you want to." she mumbled.

"Even if there was something wrong I don't see why you felt the urge to get involved." he pointed out, not bothering to glance at her.

"I thought you were in trouble or something, it's something we human being's like to do. Go figure, you hear someone scream and your first instinct is to help. Next time I'll just give you a swift kick in the shin and call it a night." she sighed, her book snapping closed.

"There won't be a next time." he assured her after a tense silence.

"I thought there wasn't a first time." she told him as she made her way to her room.

Just like a Gryffindor. Always have to get the last word in no matter what. He rolled his eyes and looked at what she left on the table. Her alleged music maker and 'Hogwarts: A History.' He wondered if all muggle's acted like she did or if her parents warped her mind at a young age like his did.

"Get away from my stuff, ferret."

"I wouldn't touch your things, Granger." he informed her, after moving away from the items in question. "I don't know what I could catch from it." he added, just to make her mad.

"Shut up." was all she said before collecting her things and taking them with her into her room.

Before long a.... well Draco wasn't to sure what it was, but it came out of Granger's room and made as to jump on the couch. He slammed his foot on the ground and smirked when the thing went running off back to where it came from.

"What did you do to my cat?" he heard Granger ask from behind him.

"What cat?" he asked turning around to come face to face with the beast. "That is not a cat." he said quickly.

"What did you do to Crook's?" she demanded again.

"That thing is Crook's?" he asked, shocked.

"Yes...." she answered warily.

"That thing is the first thing you think about in the morning?" he asked, disgusted with the animal and glancing up at her face, which was red and blotchy. "You look horrible." the words slipped out before he could stop them. Even if they hadn't he might have said them anyways.

"You prat!" she screeched at him, her arms tightening on the thing in her arms. It was not a cat for sure.

"What? Have you seen yourself?" he asked, not really caring, his attention already going back to the fire.

"Idiot." he heard her mutter before he felt the couch dip down next to him. Looking over he saw her lowering herself down and grimacing slightly when her back came in contact with the couch. He'd ask what was wrong but he didn't want to know.

"I prefer the term truth teller." he answered, serious as death and taxes.

"He has humor." she said sarcastically as the thing laid down on her lap and looked, for all the world, asleep.

"Shut up." he answered, standing up to leave to common room.

He expected her to get the last parting shot but was surprised, and for some reason disappointed, when he made it to his door without argument. Granger was a strange one indeed. There was something off with her at times and even though he didn't care why, he wanted to know.

"What the hell will happen to me this year?" he asked himself, not expecting an answer.

"The rest of your life." a voice said to him from behind him.

"What the hell?" he snapped, turning around to find nothing but thin air behind him. "Who's there?" he called, glancing around his room.

"Over here." the voice called.

Draco followed the voice and was led to a small portrait of someone who looked to be trying to be a fortune teller.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked, to stunned to come up with a more insulting remark.

"I am Madam Yesak." the portrait answered, her voice low.

"Go away." he ordered, tuning her out as he made his way to bed.

Trust Dumbledore to give him a room with a demented portrait in it. Granger probably go a portrait of a cat or something. He was getting the short end of the stick here and he knew it. Dumbledore was going to remove the offending portrait from his room if Draco had to twist an arm behind his back, or something like that. Muggle's are vague on some details. He hadn't seen Potty or Weasel in a while, maybe they fell off the face of the earth. One could only hope. Instead of going to bed he went into the bathroom to take a shower. He waited until the water was warm enough and stepped under the spray. He stood there for what seem like forever before washing properly and stepping out of the shower. He stalked over to his sink and pulled open Granger's drawer and took both tubes of toothpaste and closed it. Putting them in his drawer he brushed his own teeth and went to bed, rather proud of himself.