-Hello! Nice to see you reading my stuff. Thanks. If you have any particular ideas/fantasies that you want seen in here, the plot isn't set in stone and i enjoy hearing your thoughts. -

4AM THE FOREST OF DEAN, NORTHMOST TIPHermione could see commotion ahead of her in the next clearing, saw a glimpse of silver-blond hair. Draco Malfoy dodging the speed-blurred clawed paw of-

'Fenrir!'Hermione could see that Draco was unarmed, and all that stood between him and injury was his Quiddich reflexes. It was only a matter of time before he tired. She redoubled her efforts to push through to them, feeling the brambles clawing at her. Knowing that Fenrirs claws would be a thousand times worse.

Finally she was free.

"STUPEFY!" She flung her curse straight at Fenrir, and it caught him just under his ribcage, flinging him backwards and stunning him for a few seconds, during which Malfoy threw himself on his hands and knees, desperately searching for his wand. Hermione cried

"Accio wand" and threw it into the blonds direction just as the massive werewolf coiled himself like a spring, and leapt –teeth first- straight for Hermione.

Two voices bellowed "STUPEFY" while a third also joined, a lot fainter. All three cast spells hit their target, knocking out the beast and blasting him just short of Hermione's feet with a cracking thud. Looking wildly around her for the source of the third voice, she saw that he emerged slowly, with a definite limp and leaned heavily on a twisted trunk for support. His robes were torn and there was a trickle of blood oozing down from his forehead. But he was standing. From the way his eyebrows lifted slightly she realised she was staring, and quickly busied herself casting bonds to keep the werewolf still when he woke up. She blessed the darkness from the night that was sufficient in hiding the blush that had crept up her face. The black haired man had indeed not noticed. The blond, however, certainly did.

But he was a Slytherin, and knowing it would be tactless to mention anything at the current time, bit his tongue and swallowed the question at his lips. But his curiosity did not shrink one iota.

LATER THAT MORNING, HOGWARTS

The atmosphere in the headmistresses' office was decidedly different from yesterday. Everyone was quiet, all those present at last nights disaster were nursing wounds, luckily they all seemed to be fickle.

"Well, at least it wasn't a complete shambles; you did manage to catch Greyback." Came Minerva icily. Her anger came simply from worry, and it had the effect of warming the hearts of those around her. They quickly debriefed, and since most members inside that room had not seen sleep that previous night, nor had edible sustenance for a time, adjourned with a few mutual grunts of exhaustion as they got up and turned to leave. Luckily in the castle were a few scattered guest rooms, and Hermione and most of the others had decided to stay and sleep off their exhaustion in the comfortable beds, rather than risk splinching themselves through lack of concentration apparating their way back home. And that was AFTER the long walk into Hogsmeade in order to simply be able to apparate.

As Hermione was making way down through the various corridors, she noticed Draco Malfoy ahead of the group, pointedly telling people which rooms were 'theres'. Never one to discourage the ex-pre-Death Eater from trying to fit into the Orders 'group' she decided to just let him be, and waited her turn. Eventually it was just the two of them left.

"Woh, damn. I almost forgot about you, Hermione!" His voice was overly-cheerful. Hermione gave him a pointed look through her tiredness. He stalled slightly before seemingly making up his mind.

"Ahh well, unfortunately, the only guess room left is argh...down in the dungeons. By the way i haven't thanked you yet for your assistance before, i do so now. You came just in time." At this, Hermione could feel a scowl coming on. She knew that Snape would have to be down there by now, wherever his particular quarters were she'd bet to have the luck to find that they'd be right next to 'the only guest room left'. She still didn't want to face him just yet. Especially after his help in the forest. Looking at Draco to stall for time, she found him curiously staring at her, quickly changing his face to a blank disposition when her glance touched him. 'Bugger him,i can't admit to him that i don't want to sleep in the dungeons, how childlike would –that- look? Then he'd probably want to know why, i don't even know myself let alone what to possibly say to the snarky Slytherin' Hermione took a steadying sigh, and tottered off to the dungeons, without another look at a now smugly smiling Draco. If his suspicions were correct, a little meddling was in order.

Hermione awoke to the sounds of students rushing past the door heading to class, or, to the rumbling of her stomach. She sat up quickly, half forgetting where she was, and for the first time since she'd entered the room, took stock of her surroundings. Unlike yesterday, where the only important thing she found was her bed, she noticed that although it had a complete absence of windows due to its location, it had beautiful warm coloured quilts that hung from the high ceiling, to the ground in the middle of every wall. This offered a pleasant relief to the eye after so much bare stone. There wasn't much else that adorned the room, except the simple-made bed (in Slytherin colours) and a wooden bedside table, directly to her right. A singular, cushioned chair stood lonely in the opposite corner to the bed, and the bathroom was through a door at the end of her bed. It was to there that she got out of the bed and shuffled to. Finding Dobby inside stocking up the sink and shower with soaps and shampoos for her.

"Dobby! Hello!"The house elf turned and bowed low, squeaking an excited greeting back at her, and apologizing profusely that the guestrooms were not always kept perfectly ready-for-use. It always pulled at Hermione's heart-strings to see elf's look so stricken over such a trivial matter, but the shower was calling her name ever-so-sensually. She hadn't bothered for one the night/early morning before, and was still quite grimy. Shortly after Dobby left she stripped herself of her night clothes and tapped the shower head lightly with her wand. The water streamed out, immediately at the perfect temperature she so adored. Slowly scrubbing, she took stock of herself, Episky'ing away the scratches on her extremities, shampooing and conditioning her soaked hair and then pulling her fingers through it to sort out the worst of the knots. She stayed in the shower for a long time, letting the traumatic events slowly wash from her mind and body. She stayed till a rather unladylike growl issued from her stomach, and she smiled softly, thinking of how much a Ron thing it was to do. They were both so close before the final end of the war, and their feelings about each other were mutual, she knew. Holding on tightly to his lanky figured as they sped from the Room of Requirement had made them both in a moment of adrenaline confess to each other, but after the death of Fred the Weasleys' had shut themselves in their house. It wasn't until Fred's funeral that she had the next chance to see him; He was abashed and avoided her and since then, she had not seen hide nor hair of him till only a few short months ago. He hadn't changed in any real manner of speaking, and was certainly the old Ron that everyone knew; But Hermione was hurt that in his time of need he hadn't sought her comfort or advice, or had even owled or allowed her to visit. It seemed to her that their relationship had ended before it had even really started.

She was out of the shower now, and halfway through getting dressed automatically when her stomach once again announced it's need to be refuelled. Giggling to herself she left the room fully dressed and headed to the Great Hall.