Sleep did not come easy after her encounter with Draco. She had done her part by making him aware the bedrooms had been selected. He was a big boy and if he chose to remain in the common room rather than go to bed, that was up to him. So why did she find herself laying awake, listening for his footsteps?

"Stop it Hermione. Why do you care if Draco gets any sleep? This is the boy - no, man now - who tortured you and Ron and Harry for the last seven years. His well-being should be of no concern to you. Just close your eyes and get the sleep you so desperately need. But, they way he was tonight. It was... different. He didn't sneer or make hateful comments. He was actually polite and amicable. He even agreed with Ron. And Professor McGonagall has set up these living arrangements; surely she knows what she's doing. But he's still the boy you've hated for good reason."

Her thoughts ran themselves in circles. She could not shake the feeling that there was something more to Draco Malfoy than the evil death eater she knew him to be. Sleep had nearly overtaken her when she heard the floorboards outside her bedroom creak quietly. She listened intently, and heard them make their way down the landing to the far room. A door opened, then closed. He was in his room. Her eyes fell shut as a subconscious smile spread across her lips.

Draco was careful not to make much noise as he made his way to his bedroom. He found his trunk at the foot of his bed and pulled his hygiene kit out so he could brush his teeth before hitting the sack. As he made his final rinse, he looked himself straight in the eye in the mirror and was pleased to see warm, lively eyes staring back at him.

For so many years all he could see in his reflection was self-loathing. He hated himself for playing the role of bastard so well. It broke his heart to do it, but he'd been groomed for it his whole life, so part of it came naturally. That part of himself always frightened Draco. He was his father's son after all. As hard as he tried to internally distance himself from his family's bigotry, outwardly he had to walk in it that much more. What if Lucius' blood running through his veins somehow overruled his own heart and he began to believe the words he was saying. He lived in constant fear of losing the real him behind the illusion he'd created to keep her safe. Now that the war was over, and Voldemort no longer a threat, however, he was able to release that fear, and show everyone who he truly was. He hoped they'd understand and accept him.

As he crawled into bed, he replayed the conversation he had had with Dumbledore's portrait that evening.

"Dear boy, what do you possibly have to be sorry about?"

"Well, half of you are up there because of me." Draco answered his former headmaster.

"That's nonsense and you know it. You might want to punish yourself for the lives that were lost during the war, but each of us made our own choices to fight. Our lives were our own, as were our deaths. You are no more responsible for our passings than you are for the sun coming up or going down. As a matter fact, if it hadn't been for your extraordinary bravery, there would most likely be more of us hanging up here right now. Possibly even you. You did what you had to do to keep yourself alive, and in doing so, you saved countless other lives by communicating Voldemort's plans to the order from the inside." The wizard's tone was firm but caring.

"But I should have fought during the battle. I might have been able to save some of you."

"You know if you had fought with us Voldemort would have killed your parents straight away. Then who would have lied to him about Harry being dead? It was your mother's love for you that turned the tide of that battle. Though it may be hard for you to realize, you fought in your own way, by playing your part until the very end."

"Even if I can accept that was all I could have done, how am I supposed to convince everyone else of that? They all hate me. All of them."

"They will come around. I happen to know for a fact that Miss Granger especially has a forgiving heart. Just give it time, Draco. Be yourself, the one they've never been able to see, and they will come around. Remember you've got all of us, plus Severus and Professor McGonagall in your corner. We are willing and available to verify your side of things anytime. Its no coincidence Minerva made sure we were all present in this cottage. We're all rooting for your name to be cleared, but understand it has to be done in your way and your time. Just know we are here if you need us."

"Thank you Professor."

Its going to take time, Draco. You've been enemies for seven years, you can't expect their feelings to change in one night. Just be the person you've been hiding. Just be yourself. Even if they don't come around, at least you can look yourself in the mirror without hating your reflection. That has to count for something. - Draco drifted to sleep reassuring himself with those thoughts.

Hermione woke early the next morning, surprisingly well rested. It had been after midnight when she'd heard him come to bed, and was able to finally fall asleep. Her watch now read 5:30am. "Hmm... five and a half hours. That's more than I've gotten in awhile. Must be something about being back in this castle." She thought to herself. It was too early to risk waking Ron by taking a shower. Instead she decided to go explore the common room further.

The portraits were all still asleep, but she couldn't wait any longer to have a chat with her lost loved ones, so she loudly cleared her throat, hoping they'd respond. Most of the figures shifted in their frames, but no one woke up. She walked across to the couple she missed most and asked: "Remus. Tonks. Are you awake?"

The blue-haired witch blinked several times before her face lit up with recognition. "Oh, Hermione! I was wondering when you'd find us back here. Remus, Remus," She said nudging her husband. "Wake up. We have company."

"Miss Granger. You're a sight for sore eyes. I ought to know, I've spent the last two months with no one but this sorry lot to look at." He waved his arm motioning to the other portraits. "Present company excluded, of course." He added, kissing his wife on the head.

"You two are the sight." She giggled as Tonks playfully swatted his shoulder and turned her hair bright red in mock anger.

"What's all the ruckus? I'm tryin' to sleep here! Ah, Hermione, how decent of you to join this bloody early morning."

Fred. Hermione twirled to her right and smiled widely as he gave her one of his signature winks. "Well, just nod back off then, we're having a nice conversation." She teased.

"You know you'd miss me if I did, Granger. Plus, now that you're here, I need to know... How's George?" His voice revealed how concerned he was for his brother, probably from knowing how well he'd take it if their positions were switched.

"He's...better. Its still not easy, but he's managing. Ginny, Luna, your mom and I were in the shop to visit him on Saturday actually." She bit her lip to hold back her laughter at the memory of George bond and gagged on the floor.

"Oh yeah? And...?"

"And... He was bound and gagged on the floor with a bunch of your head's flying around yelling obscenities at him." The laugh came crashing out.

Both of Fred's arms shot into the air, like he was signalling a touchdown, and he threw his head back howling loudly. "The Box! I'd almost forgotten about it! Glad to know I've still got it, even from beyond the grave."

"That was your mother's reaction. I believe her exacts words were: 'leave it to Fred to get the last laugh.' They all miss you. WE all miss you. ALL of you." Hermione spun in a circle to address the rest of the paintings that had woken up amidst the fits of laughter. "Can I ask you guys something?"

"Of course." It was Lily who answered.

"How much do you know about our living situation? I mean... do you know about our fourth housemate?"

"Draco? Yes. We know. Professor McGonagall told us all about it. It must be hard for you to adjust to living with someone with whom you've spent so much time being at odds."

"Its just... I don't understand. I trust Professor McGonagall completely, but I don't know what she could possibly be thinking. We've been here less than 12 hours and already Ron has tried to have a go at him. Harry and I can't play referee every minute of the day. At some point, they will be alone with each other, and I hate to think what will happen."

It was James who answered, "Its not your responsibility to babysit the two (or three) of them, Hermione. Boys will be boys, and there will be times when they just need to get it out. Draco, Ron and Harry are all perfectly capable of handling themselves. Will there be blood?...Probably. Will they be able to move passed the past?... Only time will tell. One thing I can't stress enough, however, is that forgiveness is the only way for you to be truly free of the past."

Hermione could have sworn she saw Lily elbow James as he said the last line, but they both remained smiling down at her, so maybe she imagined it.

"It was great talking with you, but I better get back. The boys will be waking up soon, and I want to get in the shower before Ron."

"Good call on that." Fred called, "He always uses all the hot water. The filthy git."

Hermione heard the portraits laughing and talking amongst themselves as she exited.

"James! What was that line about forgiveness? We all agreed to let them come to terms with Draco on their own. If you lay it on too thick, they - especially Hermione as clever as she is - will get suspicious. We can't be the ones who tell his secrets." Lily scolded her husband.

"Just putting the wheels in motion my dear." James smirked.

Hermione was right when she said the boys would be waking soon. She heard Ron's 'I-Don't-Want-To-Wake-Up-Yet' grunting as soon as she stepped onto the landing. He wasn't fully awake yet, but judging by the volume and frequency of his roars, she gave it less than an hour. The shower in Harry & Draco's bathroom was already running. She couldn't help but wonder which one of them was in it. Blood rushed to her cheeks as she caught herself imaging it was not her best friend. Shivers ran up her spine and her bottom lip stung as she realized she'd been biting it lustfully.

"Snap out of it!" She admonished herself, shaking her head to remove the image of him from her mind.

The heat of her shower felt amazing and she lingered longer than usual, allowing the hot water to caress every inch of her tiny frame. Her solace was interrupted, when Ron began pounding on the door, whining for his turn. She reluctantly shut the dials off, stepped out.

"Be done in a minute." She was about to call to her impatient boyfriend, when a mischievous grin spread across her face. She wrapped a towel around her dripping body and strode over to his door. Heat rose to her cheeks as she couldn't believe what she was about to do. She gripped the knob and swung the door open just as Ron's fist was swinging forward again. He froze mid-swing and his eyes almost burst from their sockets as he caught sight of his towel-clad girlfriend.

"Moving forward, I would appreciate it if you would patiently wait your turn, Ronald." Hermione chirped smugly, before turning on her heel and retreating to her bedroom. As soon as the door was latched behind her, she allowed the nerves bubbling inside her to burst forth in the form of a ridiculous jig. She had a feeling her triumphant smirk would linger on her face the entire day.

The shower turned on just as he passed her room. Weasley's loud grumblings were audible from his room, so Draco knew it had to be Hermione getting in. His steps faltered and a longing sigh escaped his throat as he imagined her naked body just beyond the wall to his left. "Aw, shit," he thought as he felt a throbbing below his belt. He clenched his fists and jaw repeatedly to divert the blood flow elsewhere, as he hurried down the stairs.

The kitchen was small, but equipped with everything Draco needed to make an impressive breakfast. Muggle cooking was one of his favorite hobbies. He grabbed the quill off the counter and began writing his grocery list on the enchanted parchment: 1 dozen eggs, bacon, sausage, flour, sugar, baking soda, salt, potatoes, maple syrup. The words disappeared as he wrote, much like the awful diary his father forced upon him for years before slipping it into poor Ginny Weasley's cauldron.

In an attempt to control/stop the plan, Draco had pleaded with his father to let him be the one to open the Chamber of Secrets, but Lucius insisted they use the muggle sympathizer's daughter to teach her family a lesson. He might not have been able to control things with the diary, but Draco did work his arse off that year to prevent any muggle born deaths, especially hers.

-He sent Dobby to look after Harry. (True, the house elf went overboard with the whole rogue bludger ordeal, but his heart was in the right place.)

-He barely ate the whole year because he was patrolling the halls for muggle borns that might be targets for the basilisk. It was Draco who suggested Colin look through his camera lense at all times when wandering the halls and also Draco who splashed water upon the ground underneath Mrs. Norris.

-Most importantly he was the one who slipped Hermione the page torn out of: "Evil Creatures And The Damage They Cause" that explained what creature was living inside the chamber.

Draco was pulled back from his memories by a response being scrawled on the parchment... Your order is complete. Just then everything he had requested appeared on the counter beside him. Good Luck, Mr. Malfoy. He barely caught the second response before it faded away.

"Time to get to work." Draco often talked to himself when he was busy in the kitchen. It was a side effect of watching so many muggle cooking shows. He conjured an apron and began cracking eggs into a large bowl. His movements were skilled and precise, but relaxed and upbeat. Chef was on the top of Draco's list of muggle jobs he fancied himself doing.

The smells wafting up from the kitchen were heavenly. Hermione leaned against the railing and watched in awe as Draco expertly flipped a pancake with one hand and scrambled eggs with the other. He set the pancake pan back on its burner and slid to the cutting board on his left where potatoes? were waiting. She was hypnotized by the skilled knife work as he diced the potatoes and tossed them into yet another pan to fry. She could tell that he was completely in his zone and hadn't noticed her observing him, so she allowed herself the guilty pleasure several minutes more.

He began to clean up as she descended the stairs, leaving his back to her, but she could hear a faint... humming? Yes. Draco was humming to himself, and if she wasn't mistaken... it was a muggle song. He was humming: "I Don't Want To Wait" by Paula Cole. The I-Just-Got-Ron-So-Good smirk she had been wearing was replaced with a There's-Alot-About-This-Man-That-I-Don't-Know-But-I-Want-To grin.

She continued forward just as he turned back to the food. "Holy SHIT, Granger!" He called her by her last name, just he always had, but there was something different about his delivery. It had no bite. Rather, it was almost endearing, like the way best mates use surnames. "You can't just sneak up on people like that!" He reprimanded, clutching his chest.

A laugh like she hadn't experienced since the return of Voldemort bubbled up from the bottom of her toes and out her mouth. "You- you should have seen your face!" She could barely get the words out as she clutched onto the counter for support, her body heaving with laughter.

Draco tried to will his face into a grimace, but the sight of her uncontrollable giddiness made it nearly impossible. The effort made his lips twitch awkwardly, but he was determined to show her his displeasure, however fake it may be.

As her fit was dying out, she looked up and was amused to see him attempting to maintain a straight face. Their eyes met and she lost it again. He couldn't hold back any longer, and his laughter joined seamlessly with hers.