A/N:This fic is a fun piece of writing that cheers me up to write, I don't know where its going but I hope you enjoy the ride! ;)
Disclaimer- Yeah, nothing.
Hermione groaned lightly as she dragged the first of her heavy trunks up the narrow spiral staircase that led to her new flat on the edge of Diagon Alley. There were a few small buildings that had been added recently by the Ministry of Magic for those youngster's who had finished at Hogwarts but wished to continue their studies; the studies themselves would be undertaken in the Ministry of Magic. Cursing under her breath she wished that she had been allocated a flat on any of the five lower levels. Dropping the trunk at the top of the narrow staircase she pushed open the door nervously to reveal a cosy but bright and attractive studio apartment. The living area was open plan with a tiny little kitchen area in the far corner with the skylights overlooking London, on the same side of the room in the opposite corner was a small dinner table. The rest of the space was filled with two sofas and an armchair surrounding a fireplace. Forgetting the trunk she'd abandoned in the doorway Hermione dashed over to where three doors lined up against the wall. Two identical bedrooms nestling under the rafters were revealed, along with a bathroom between the two. Hermione smiled happily to herself as she gazed out of the skylight of the right bedroom overlooking the hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley, it was mid September and soft autumn sunlight filled the room. It had been two years since she had last undertaken serious study at Hogwarts, now Voldemort was gone and she decided to once again partake in her favourite pastime.
"For Merlin's sake, what idiot have I been stuck in a room with." Hermione was dragged away from her happy thoughts by the sound of someone tripping over her trunk and proceeding to mouth off. "Granger…I might've known it…" She swivelled around, almost hitting herself on the low sloping ceiling in the process to see Draco Malfoy smirking at her from the doorway.
"Malfoy…" She breathed, of all the people to be her roommate.
"Yes, Granger, I believe you know my name." He retorted.
"This is your flat too?"
"Yeah." He rolled his eyes. "Claimed this room already have you?"
"Well no but…"
"Granger, it's yours. I couldn't give a damn." Malfoy spat the words out viciously and turned on the spot. "This trunk yours?"
"Yes, I'll come and…"
"Wingardium Leviosa…" Malfoy nudged the enchanted trunk towards her and it sped into her room.
"Finite Incantum." Hermione let the trunk come to rest and stared at it for a few minutes, now why hadn't she thought of that? Running quickly back down the stairs she charmed her other two trunks and hurried back up to her room. Kicking the door shut she opened the first trunk; the largest. It was filled with clothes, all perfectly arranged in colour order. Waving her wand delicately she smiled as numerous pairs of trousers flew across the room and hung themselves up in her cherry wood wardrobe. Another flick and t-shirts were arranging themselves in delicate piles on the shelves inside. Within a few minutes the trunk was empty and Hermione shrank it and shoved it on top of the wardrobe, out of her way. It wasn't that Hermione particularly cared about her clothes, for she was hardly the fashion expert that Lavender was, it was more her penchant for neatness that meant her wardrobe was always colour coded and arranged perfectly.
The second, and heaviest, trunk contained all of her books, both Wizarding and Muggle. Soon they were rearranging themselves in subject, and alphabetical order on the bookshelves above Hermione's new desk. She'd been particularly happy when she'd seen that arrangement, at Hogwarts her books always seemed to be to far away when she'd needed them. The size of the desk also pleased her; it was neither too large nor too small; just perfect for laying out numerous thick books for cross referencing and research.
A few thumps from the other bedroom told Hermione that Malfoy too was unpacking as she opened the third and final trunk; it contained her most precious possessions - a beautiful set of cauldrons that Harry, Ron and Ginny had bought her for her eighteenth birthday, pictures of all her friends and family and most importantly her diary, it contained everything she'd learnt during the dark days they'd spent searching for Horcruxes, avoiding Death Eaters, and eventually hunting Voldemort.
Using sticking charms galore, she covered the wall behind her desk in the pictures so that it almost seemed as if the wall itself was moving, such was the frantic activity of the pictures as they looked around at their "new home".
Once her possessions were carefully shut away in drawers, she decided to shower and change, her journey from her parent's house hadn't exactly been smooth. Grabbing a towel she stripped down and padded into the bathroom – a deep hot tub sunken into the floor filled half of the room, the other half was home to a shower, toilet and sink. Hermione hung the towel over the rail, and walked into the shower where her various Muggle shampoos, conditioners and shower gels were lined up next to Malfoy's Wizarding products. She giggled lightly to herself as she rinsed her hair; he was going to love that. "It don't matter to me, cuz all I wanted to be, was a million miles from here, somewhere more familiar." Hermione sang one of her favourite Muggle songs to herself, even after eight years, she still struggled to like Wizarding music. "And oh my god I can't believe it I've never been this far away from home. Knock me down I get right back up again, come back stronger than the power of packman."
"Nice singing Granger."
"Malfoy!" Hermione screeched, wheeling round to see him stood leaning against his doorframe, obligatory smirk in place. "What, how, huh…" She struggled with her thoughts for a few moments, glad that the shower was steamed up. "Get out." He winked before leaving Hermione to cover herself up and stomp into her bedroom, firmly locking her door behind her. Bastard. She thought to herself as she rubbed serum into her unruly locks. Absolute bastard. How dare he walk in when I was having a shower? Quickly dressing in loose tracksuit pants and a spaghetti strap top she pulled her wet shoulder length hair up into a messy bun and stalked into their living room to find Malfoy sat on the couch reading what looked suspiciously like a Dark Arts book that had come straight from his father's private library.
Hermione banged around the kitchen making herself a hot chocolate, muttering under her breath about arrogant Slytherins. Draco chuckled lightly to himself; this year was going to be fun if Hermione was going to be so easily riled. He'd have to invite Blaise and Pansy over to join in the fun.
Hermione plonked herself on the armchair to the right of where Malfoy sat. "Well." She said. "Explain yourself."
Malfoy laughed loudly. "To you, Granger? I hardly think so." He went back to reading his book, Hermione could hear him mutter quietly. "I don't answer to anyone anymore."
"Right now, Malfoy, you're answering to me. We have to live together for a year. I'd appreciate it if you didn't walk in on me whilst I'm in the shower."
"Should've locked the door." Malfoy replied nonchalantly, not looking up but continuing to study the well worn pages of the black leather bound book.
Hermione blushed slightly; maybe she was slightly to blame. "Okay. But at the very least we need some ground rules."
"So you can take house points off me?" Malfoy retorted. Hermione resisted the urge to poke her tongue out at him childishly, instead settling on a disturbingly McGonagall - like glare. "Fine, fine." He put down his book, carefully marking the page and leant back into the couch. "Go ahead, rule away Granger."
Hermione took a deep breath, trying not to explode. Sipping her hot chocolate she looked Malfoy in the eye, he seemed to be enjoying this. "Right. Firstly, knock before coming into the bathroom." Malfoy nodded, evidently he found this reasonable. "Secondly, clear up after using the kitchen. Thirdly, no loud noise late at night."
"Why would I possibly being making noise late at night?" Malfoy grinned innocently.
"You know why."
"Okay, I'm cool with those. Can I add a few?"
"Go ahead. I'm not the only person living here."
"Right, no muggles."
"Malfoy, I'm hardly going to bring Muggles into Diagon Alley."
"Just making sure. Also, no Pothead and Weasel."
"In that case, no Crabbe and Goyle."
"Okay."
"But it doesn't matter anyway, Harry and Ron have started their Auror training, they're not going to be around much."
"Pothead and Weasel, aurors!" Malfoy laughed raucously. "We'll have a new generation Dark Lord soon enough then…"
"Planning on applying for the position are you?" Hermione retaliated with a perfect Malfoyesque smirk before sweeping into her bedroom and kicking the door shut with satisfaction. Granger – 1, Malfoy – 0.
Draco closed the door of his bedroom quietly, he had the slightest suspicion that Hermione was already asleep and he didn't want to piss her off needlessly, he wanted to annoy her when she was awake enough to have a good argument.
He slumped in his desk chair, staring at the few pictures on his desk, in their simple silver frames; his mother and father on their wedding day, him and Blaise messing around in Diagon Alley, at his eighteenth birthday party.
He thought about what Hermione had said "planning on applying for the position are you?" he shifted uncomfortably in his chair and rubbed his left forearm slightly, pulling back his black cashmere jumper to reveal the Dark Mark, forever inked deep into his skin, into his sub-conscience. It seemed Voldemort had intended to drag his followers down with him, even after his last demise the Marks had not vanished, they remained, black as ever, as guilt ridden as ever. But Draco knew he was one of the few that had felt remorse, his father had only just managed to evade Azkaban…not that many of the Death Eaters were still alive. Draco had been the youngest, he had been the first to be initiated before he'd even finished school, and he would be forever branded one of Voldemort's followers. He rubbed his head, it was too much to take; he'd forever hate his Father for failing to carry out the Dark Lord's orders at the end of his fifth year at Hogwarts, if Lucius hadn't ended up in Azkaban, Draco could have escaped the Death Eater's just a little longer. His father had apologised, just the once, he hadn't wanted Draco to join the Death Eater's "a Malfoy should bow to no one" Lucius admitted his mistake, but he would never apologise again. Malfoy pride.