The slight shuffle of a shoe. The ticklish sensation of her hair being dragged across her face. A faint, masculine gasp whispered into the night.

Her sleepy brain told her this was not normal, none of her dormmates sounded like that and no one besides her mother would do something as intimate as moving her hair while she slept.

But she was too comfortable, whichever soft blanket she had grabbed before bed was warm and tightly wrapped around her. The room was so quiet tonight, she couldn't even hear Ginny snore.

She turned her head, only for it to land on what she guessed was a dress shoe adorned foot.

She opened her eyes with a start. Draco Malfoy peered down at her, his foot next to her head.

Alarm fitted across his sharp features when he noticed she was awake. It must've been instinctual after years of animosity because her gut-reaction was the punch him in the face. She leaped off of the floor and hit him right on the jaw.

Later, she would feel embarrassed for reacting like that. But it was terrifying to wake up to someone's face hovering over you, especially if that person hated you and actively worked to make your life Hell.

His face flew back with the force of her punch. One of his hands reached up to cradle his jaw. A ring with a silver 'M' adorned by his index finger pressed into the skin of his chin.

"WHAT THE FUCK GRANGER!" He roared in anger. The spot she hit was already turning pink.

"What do you expect the response will be when you hover over a stranger in their sleep like a stalker!" She spluttered taking quick steps backward.

"I didn't know who you were!" He said, eyes blazing.

"Do you make a habit of touching the hair of people you don't know?" She snapped.

"I was trying to see what idiot would fall asleep in the astronomy tower!"

"It was an accident! Besides, it's none of your business." She replied, trying to smooth down her bed head as casually as she could.

"Leave right now, I'm taking twenty points from Gryffindor." He said, glaring at her as if she were an insect beneath his shoe.

"You're not taking house points for this," Hermione replied confidently. She would not be penalized by the likes of him.

"I don't take orders from a Mudblood." He took a threatening step forward, but Hermione would not be deterred.

"As a prefect, I am allowed to be out past curfew."

"Only when you are patrolling you aren't even on the schedule. And you're wearing bedclothes. Nice try," Malfoy replied, taking another step closer. His eyes scanned her "bedclothes", she pulled her robe tighter.

Why did Purebloods call pajamas, "bedclothes"? Seriously, he degrades her blood status when he talks like a Jane Austin novel.

"I was looking for something another student from my house left. I'm sure our professors can understand a prefect using their power for necessary reasons." Lies spewed from Hermione's lips like a broken faucet. She hated Draco Malfoy, he brought out the worst in her. Hermione was an honest person and would never abuse her power like this, but something about wiping that self-satisfied smirk off his face was worth it.

"So you're a Narcoleptic in addition to being unbearable? You know, you might be eligible for some kind of Ministry stimulus check with all of those hindering qualities." He supplied sarcastically. Her face burned in anger and embarrassment.

"I might qualify for Ministry protection after I tell them I woke up to your terrifying face hovering above me." She snapped back. His amused expression shifted immediately into something frightening. He paced forward, she matched each step he took with one in the opposite direction.

She'd never been alone with him before and she didn't like how angry he looked. Maybe she should have thought about her current circumstances before she purposefully antagonized him.

"You stupid, little, Mudblood," he ground out through clenched teeth. She felt around for her wand in her robe pocket only to see it lying on the floor where she fell asleep.

Shit.

He marched forward, and she paced backward. She couldn't see over his chest which was inches away from her face. He'd grown almost as tall as Ron. She tripped over something hard, gasping. He used this momentum to push her into the railing. She gasped at the feeling of his hands, his hands on her arms.

Hermione felt the unforgiving, cold metal railing digging into the small of her back. One of her slippers had fallen off in their scuffle. She slowly turned her head to the side and looked down; the drop was thousands of feet tall.

Her breathing halted. He wouldn't push her over, would he? She was well aware that Malfoy hated her. But surely he didn't want to ruin his life by murdering her? On second thought, she doubted someone as rich and privileged as him would go to Azkaban for murdering a 'filthy Mudblood'.

Hermione spent her summer evenings watching true crime TV shows with her father. She remembered a segment detailing what to do if you are kidnapped by a sociopath. First, she had to try and empathize with him.

She could feel his angry exhales against her forehead. "Malfoy, you don't want to do this. I know you probably feel really frustrated right now but if you just let me go, you won't ever see me again. I won't bother you ever again, I promise."

He didn't like this.

"I'm sick and tired of you and your idiot friends trying to take over this school. You think that just because you're Potter's Mudblood you get to do whatever you want! I can't believe you punched me. Someone should've put you in your place years ago." His hand slid up her wrist and onto the base of her throat, she sucked in a breath. Her eyes darted to his face, his eyebrows were drawn together and his nostrils were flared. The pressure of his hand was light, but the threat was heavy.

It was time to move onto step two, remind him of the consequences of his actions.

"Malfoy, you can't kill me. You'll go to Azkaban. All you will be known for is murder, you wouldn't do that to your family." She tried to morph her face into something that said she was sympathetic to him but also in charge of the situation.

His grip on her throat tightened, she was not in charge of the situation. The metal of his rings was warmed by both of their body heat. She was overwhelmed by the smell of his cologne and the warmth of his body pushing against her's.

"Maybe they'll think you threw yourself over. That you couldn't stand another minute as your miserable, narcoleptic self."

"You don't want murder on your conscience." She reasoned. The wind had chapped her lips, she wet them with her tongue. His eyes darted toward her mouth. "And I'm not Narcoleptic, I was just tired. Stop saying that, Narcolepsy isn't a joke Malfoy. It's a serious problem hundreds of thousands suffer from…"

"So even when I have you in this position, you can't shut your fucking mouth to save your life?" He flexed his hand on her throat. His other fingers were splayed across her waist, firmly pressing her into the railing.

She gulped.

"And how would you know what I want on my conscience?" He sneered. The moonlight reflected off of his pale hair. His silver eyes traced across her face.

She didn't have an answer to that. He suddenly nudged her closer over the edge of the railing and her shock subsided. Hermione grasped his robes, exhaling shakily. The fact that she was inches away from falling to her death was getting harder to ignore.

She felt the first signs of a panic attack, her breathing became inconsistent and her hands shook. Black spots appeared where his face had been.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"You are holding me by my throat over a thousand-foot drop." She gasped out.

"Merlin! I wouldn't actually throw you over. Potter and Weasley aren't even here to save you, you don't need to put on a show for me. Quit the dramatics."

"You think I'm being dramatic? Let's see you dangle over the edge of this railing then!"

"No wonder you turned out the way you did. Muggle parents have no idea how to discipline children. They just let the lot of you run around with no guidance or direction." He sneered, teeth glinting white against the dark lighting.

"You mean to tell me..." She gasped out, trying to control her panic, "that your parents held you over a thousand foot drops..." Hermione pushed her hands against his chest, "IN THE NAME OF DISCIPLINE."

"Of course that must be very strange and foreign to you, corporal punishment, seeing as you turned out the way you did."

"Well out of the two of us, the one that is called the Brightest With of Our Age is the one who didn't receive physical punishment. Now let me down if you aren't going to kill me." Her eyes start watering from her inconsistent breathing. Hermione didn't want to show weakness so she had to press her forehead to his chest to hide her teary eyes.

Suddenly, Malfoy jerked her shoulders against the railing, startling her. "No, I quite like seeing you knocked down a peg or two."

Hermione had had enough. He was cruel and sadistic, she wanted to go back to bed and never speak to him again. This was one of the worst experiences she'd ever had at Hogwarts and she was petrified in year two.

Abruptly, she jerked her head towards his chin, catching him off guard. She shoved at his shoulders and kicked at his legs. Malfoy pushed back at her.

"What is going on here!" Professor McGonagall shouted from the doorway of the Astronomy tower.