"I'm still not sure this is a good idea, Albus," muttered Minerva McGonagall crossly. "You should have seen them in that compartment, I thought they were going to rip each other apart!"

The two elderly magicians sat in Dumbledore's office as the first night back at Hogwarts died away. Dumbledore chuckled.

"You think this is funny?" asked McGonagall sharply.

"Our two Head Students do seem to have rather a…passion for each other, don't they?" he commented, smiling pleasantly.

McGonagall snorted. "Is that what you call it, Albus? Honestly, I'll be surprised if one of them doesn't die at the hands of the other by the end of September!"

"I think we'll all be surprised, Minerva," Dumbledore chuckled. "But they both have good hearts." At this, McGonagall raised an eyebrow - "I believe the time they spend together will be good for both of them." Noticing the look on his Deputy Headmistress' face, Dumbledore chuckled again. "Yes, Draco has a good heart, deep down. And now, with Lucius gone, I think we have a chance here to help him find it. That's partly why I've put him with Miss Granger."

"But, he hates Hermione!" said McGonagall, shaking her head confusedly.

"I suppose we'll have to see about that," Dumbledore replied softly, his eyes twinkling.

This was unbelievable.

Draco brooded angrily to himself, once alone in his new room. He finally had it all. He'd wanted the Head position ever since he first arrived at Hogwarts. He'd wanted to look in the mirror and see the badge pinned to his robe. He wanted to have the power to tell all the other students to do whatever he wanted. And now he had it. But once again, one of the Heroic Trio stood in his way, ruining it. They seemed to love nothing more than stealing his thunder. It just figured that Hermione Granger would be made Head Girl. Draco glared at the wall that separated his room from the common room, knowing Hermione was still out there, as if glaring could make her shrivel up.

He sighed bitterly and fell back into his bed. This was at least a bonus. It was nothing compared to his room at home at the Manor, but it was a far cry better than the dorm he shared in the Slytherin dungeon. There was more room, the bed was larger and nicer, and he could do whatever he wanted without being interrupted.

As much as it bothered him to admit it, it felt good to be back at school. It felt like coming home. His father was dead now, so the Manor belonged to him, but this place, Hogwarts, was more of a home to him than the Manor had ever been. He'd thought it would have caused him much more pain when his father was killed, but in an odd way it was freeing. He didn't have to worry about Lucius pushing him into the open arms of the Dark Lord anymore. That had never truly been the life he'd wanted. What pained him most was watching his mother suffer. She had truly loved his father as his father had never loved him. Narcissa Malfoy was a wreck these days, and Draco knew it. She had taken her husband's death hard, blaming her self for no explainable reason.

Draco lay in bed now and tried to focus on the present. He looked around the room and thought of things he'd like to fill it with. He'd made a marvelous discovery over the summer in the form of a 'DVD Player.' This was another reason he was glad to have this room to himself. He would sooner eat his own fist than let anyone see him with a Muggle entertainment set-up in his room. The more he learned about the Muggle world, the more he grew annoyed with himself, for he couldn't help but be impressed by their originality. Who'd have thought that staring at a screen for close to two hours could be enjoyable?

He hoped he could figure a way to get around his newly acquired electronics malfunctioning in the castle.

His mind was again drawn back to the matter of his counterpart, Hermione Granger. He couldn't honestly tell himself that he was surprised the she had attained the position. She had the marks and, as much as he despised to admit it, the brains for the job. There was really nobody else for it. This annoyed him very much. He couldn't stand Hermione and her little sidekicks. Everyone thought that Harry was the ringleader of the Trio, but Draco knew better. Hermione was the brains behind the outfit, Harry the brawn and Ron the useless idiot who had somehow managed to keep a place between the other two.

Draco stewed in his room for several minutes before deciding to take a bath. If he'd ever needed to relax, now was the time. He opened the other door in his room that lead into the joint bathroom and walked in. Nice. A large standing shower jutted out from the opposite wall and an impressive Jacuzzi tub sat against the wall beside him. He turned the faucets on and ran his fingers underneath the flow, testing the temperature. When it was just right he pulled the plug up and began to undress. He looked over at Hermione's door and stopped himself. He was glad to see that he could lock her door from inside this room. He walked over and did just that. The last thing he needed was the Mudblood walking in on him when he was trying to relax. He stripped all the way down and stepped into the bath. The water was comfortably warm and as he relaxed into it, he felt his frustrations melt away.

In the morning, his body woke itself up at the crack of dawn, as usual, and lied in bed for a while, adjusting himself into wakefulness. After what was probably half an hour, he rose and went to the window, yawning. It was Saturday and he knew he had the day to do whatever he wanted. He grabbed a simple grey t-shirt out of his drawer and pulled it on. He walked out of his room and into the study to find Hermione already there. He groaned inwardly, but he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of knowing she was already ruining his day.

Hermione barely glanced up before continuing to read the paper. Apparently, she was a subscriber to the early morning Prophet. She had a bagel in one hand and the paper in the other. She was leaning back in one of the coffee table chairs, her legs scrunched up against her, her feet resting in the edge of the table lightly.

"Get your feet off the table, Granger," he said irritably. She didn't look at him, but obeyed.

As she moved her legs he realized just exactly what she was wearing - very high cut plaid patterned cotton shorts and a very low cut black tank top. Her legs were toned and evenly tanned. Her shorts rode low on her hips and he could see a small strip of her sides and back as she bent forward to readjust herself. Even Draco couldn't deny that the summer had been good to her.

As she leaned back again, straightening the paper to continue reading, Draco couldn't stop himself from looking at her upper body. Her breasts weren't gigantic, but they weren't tiny either. They fit her curves and he could see the outline of them through her tank top. He wondered if she had always looked like this under her robes or if this was a new thing. Draco realized he was staring and jerked his eyes away. He shouldn't be looking at her at all, let alone looking at her and being turned on. He put his face right again then crossed the room and sat down across from her. The only way out of this was to compensate by showing her who was in charge.

"All right, Granger," he almost snarled, "let's get a few things straight."

He fully intended to tell her exactly how it was going to be around here - That she would stay out of the study in the mornings until he has gone, that she would wait for her turn in the bathroom, and that under no circumstances would she have either of her pals over for a visit. But when she looked up at him he forgot what he was going to say. Instead, he noticed how her morning hair looked pulled up into a messy bun on top of her head. How long had she had soft curls instead of frizz? She rolled her eyes at him and her head moved slightly. A few small strands of curly chocolate coloured hair fell over her face. He resisted the urge to reach forward and tuck one behind her ear. He also couldn't help noticing just how brown her eyes were and how bright they looked in the morning light. What was wrong with him?

"Not now, Malfoy. I'm getting in the shower," she said in a bored tone.

He was speechless. She got up and walked away toward the bathroom door and Draco's eyes followed her. Her hips swayed ever so slightly as she walked. She raised her arms above her head in a yawn as she walked and her top hitched up a bit, giving him a glance of the gently indented small of her back. Then she disappeared behind the door and Draco was left to stare blankly ahead, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened to him.

This was bad.

-

Twenty minutes later, Hermione emerged from her own room, fully clothed in weekend attire with her hair in a simple braid that fell to the middle of her back. She wanted to look through the books in the study before she started her day. She walked by Draco, who was curiously staring hard at the floor instead of taking advantage of this obvious opportunity to verbally abuse her. If he was going to ignore her, Hermione had no problem with it. It would be a vast improvement from having to sit through his usual arrogant diatribe.

She walked over to the bookcase by the window closest to her bedroom and ran her fingers over bindings, looking closely at the titles. She grinned vastly as she realized that this bookcase was made of her favourite titles. Someone knew exactly what she loved and had put it here for her. Austen, Shakespeare, Crichton, Bronte, Frost, Tolkein, Herbert…they were all here. She pulled out her favourite book in the whole world and went over to her armchair. She curled up and immediately opened it to chapter one.

-

More than twenty minutes later, Draco emerged from his room, fully clothed in weekend attire. It had only taken him a few minutes to shower, but he had spent several before them trying to drive from his brain the faint smell of sweet raspberries he'd breathed in when Hermione had walked by after her shower.

He didn't immediately see Hermione, as her body was mostly hidden behind the chair she was sitting in. In his hand were the papers McGonagall had given him on the train. He walked over to sit in his armchair to peruse them and was startled to find Hermione already in hers, curled up with a rather thick book. He didn't recognize the title, not that it mattered…

"Merlin, Granger!" he breathed loudly. "You can't startle me like that!"

Hermione looked up at him contemptuously, then rolled her eyes and went back to her book, ignoring him. He sat down in his chair, which was tilted toward hers, and looked down at his papers. Several minutes passed, Draco reading his 'rules of conduct' and Hermione quickly devouring her favourite novel. Neither noticed the other until Hermione shifted in her chair and Draco saw a bit of her side when her shirt moved before it was covered again. He stared ahead blankly, the events of that morning rolling back into his thoughts. He was annoyed with her for putting them there and angry with himself for allowing them to be there.

"Granger!" he snapped.

Hermione jumped and glared at him. That was more like it.

He smirked and held up the papers in his hand. "McGonagall said we should look these over."

"I already did," she muttered distractedly before going back to her book, clearly not interested in arguing or even talking to him.

He scowled. He wanted her to get angry, fight back; take his bait so that he could snarl at her in peace without worrying what she smelled like or just exactly what colour her hair was in the light. But she didn't seem willing or interested in doing anything of the sort.

Draco was forced to scowl even more. He was irritated that anything could be more important than arguing with him. His eyes flew resentfully to the culprit, Hermione's book. He read the title again and was reluctantly intrigued.

"What the hell is that thing, anyway?" he muttered, nodding his head at her challengingly.

She didn't even look up. "It's called a book, Malfoy," she replied coolly.

He'd set himself up for that one…

"You don't say," he said sarcastically. "Let me see that thing." He reached forward and snatched the book out of her hands.

"Hey!" she yelled in protest, rising out of her chair.

That did it…Draco thought to himself with a smug smile.

"Dune…by Frank Herbert," he said, holding it out of her reach.

"It's a Muggle book," she snapped angrily, "You wouldn't understand."

"Don't tell me what I would and wouldn't understand, Granger!" he snarled, still holding it out of her reach.

She stood with her hands on her hips, fuming. She was annoyingly cute.

"Give it back," she demanded.

"No," he replied smugly.

"Give it back," she repeated icily.

"Make me," he taunted.

After a pause, Hermione took him at his word and lunged for him. He barely had time to move before he toppled back into his chair and she was on top of him, snatching wildly at his hands.

He smelled raspberries again.

They wrestled around for a moment before Draco started laughing. He meant it to be a mean, taunting laugh but it sounded more like what it really meant, that he was pleasantly enjoying himself.

He hoped this would goad Hermione even further but instead he looked into her face and saw that she was grinning. Their eyes met and they both slowly stopped moving. Neither of them blinked and Draco was suddenly aware of his breathing. Hermione had stopped grabbing for her book and was now resting her hands on his shoulders, kneeling on his lap.

She was so close…

Draco stopped thinking. He was staring into her eyes thrillingly and noticing the beginnings of a tightening in his groin when she put a stop to it.

Hermione slipped herself hastily off his chair and straightened her clothes. She cleared her throat quickly and said, "Keep it."

She turned away and hurried out of their common room, no doubt to spend the day with her friends.

Draco was left to berate himself.

-

Hermione hurried down the hall, not even knowing which direction she was headed in. She just had to get away from the scene that had just taken place.

What the hell had just happened?

One minute she had been irate with Draco for stealing her book, and the next, she had practically tackled him. What was even more confusing was that he had let her do it, no, encouraged her to do it! When she was sitting there on his lap he didn't call her filthy, or a Mudblood, or any other foul word. He hadn't pushed her off roughly, insisting that he would catch whatever disease she inherently carried. She was trying to make sense of the look he'd had in his eyes and just exactly why she'd found herself speechless, when Harry and Ron came around the corner, obviously headed to the great hall for breakfast.

"Hermione!" Ron greeted her enthusiastically, "How was your first night in the Dragon's Lair?"

"Shut up, Ron," she snapped. The last thing she needed right now was to be reminded that she shared living quarters with Draco Malfoy, especially after she'd practically just…

"Hey, Hermione," said Ginny brightly, joining them as they reached the doors to the Great Hall.

Hermione smiled back at Ginny, glad of the excuse to push Draco's fierce grey eyes from her mind. The four of them plopped down next to Neville at the table and dug into their food.

A/N - Yes, this chapter had some D/Hr fluff. Will it happen again? Yes
Soon? No.
Enjoy it while it lasts…
And REVIEW!