Ugh, so many things to do, so little time. It's briefly mentioned in the next bit but I'd better say it here as well: It's true that the Gryffindor Tower is further than the dungeons, but she has to go to the tower anyway, while going to the dungeons would be extra strain on her leg...


Hermione stared at Draco. Then she stared some more.

He rolled his eyes. "You might want to close your mouth," he suggested.

She did so with a snap.

"Well?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Well what?" she hissed, snapping out of it. "We can't go to my room!"

"Of course we can," he said, shrugging a bit to position the strap of his bag more comfortably on his shoulder.

His bag.

"Why are you bringing your bag?" she warily asked.

The corner of his lip twitched. "Can't get behind just because I'm obliging you."

"You don't have to oblige me, really!" she rushed to assure him. "I'll come to the dungeons. My leg is already much better!"

She was lying. She had been making her way up and down stairs for classes all day and her leg was swollen and throbbing with the strain of it. Of course he knew this. True, the trip to the tower was longer, but she would have to make it eventually, anyway. Her friends would bring her food.

"I wasn't aware they let cowards into Gryffindor," he murmured. "I thought you were all supposed to be foolhardy and rash."

She raised a haughty eyebrow at him. "I am not going to argue any reasons why you might call us foolhardy and rash and this has nothing to do with courage. Nothing good can come from you going to my room."

Irritation flitted across his features. "Let's go," he coldly said, and she realized he was done arguing with her.

She glanced towards Harry and Ginny one more time, making Draco snort derisively, but they were too caught up in each other to notice anything.

She sighed and slowly got up.

"Don't look so glum, Granger," he said with an evil glint in his eye. "If you're a good girl, I might even let you sit down once we get there."


Hermione wanted to run to her room so that nobody would have time to see them, but, alas, her leg didn't permit it. It bloody hurt. She supposed she could have gone to the Hospital Wing to have Madam Pomfrey look at it, but she had been afraid that the witch wouldn't have let her leave again, so instead she had gritted her teeth and gone on with it. She had gotten a potion to take for the pain, if it got too bad, but it hadn't actually helped that much. The only thing that would help was to give her leg a rest, and, now, he had even threatened to make her stand. Heck, he'd probably send her on an errand to the dungeons once they got there, just for the fun of torturing her.

Strangely, she didn't actually believe that he would do either of those things. Not unless she made him lash out at her.

He could be so sensitive about some subjects, it was almost ridiculous. She had noticed a pattern in this area. If she struck a nerve when they talked, he got nasty. If there was any chance that she might not consider him evil anymore, he got nasty. If she caught him being vulnerable, he got really nasty.

"Get a move on, Granger," he said in a bored voice as they reached third floor. "This is taking all day."

"Walking as fast as I can!" She meant to snap at him, but it came out more of a whimper. Botheration.

He didn't reply at first, and she glanced at him to see that he was frowning slightly at her.

"I can't believe you were taken down by Crabbe," he finally said. "They make you out to be this Wonder Witch, and you were taken down by Crabbe, the epitome of all that is stupid, clumsy and…stupid."

Hermione flushed slightly. He was right. "He got me from behind," she mumbled weakly in her own defense.

"That's no excuse," he harshly replied, demonstrating that he heard her perfectly well. "You know there are people out to get you these days, and yet you blithely walk around, allowing amoebas like Crabbe to get the better of you. He could have done much worse, you know. He doesn't have the brains or the forethought to stop while he's ahead."

She opened her mouth to deliver a retort, to taunt him with why he would care, but she stopped herself just in time. He would not show mercy in his punishment if she pushed him too far, and she was in too much pain and feeling much too tired for her to risk it. Besides, much as she was loath to admit it, he was right. She had been careless.

He shot her a sardonic glance. "What? No comeback?" he pushed.

"No," she sighed. "You're right. It was very careless of me and I was lucky that you happened to be close by."

He stopped walking – just stopped and stared at her.

Hermione wasn't about to stop and stand around to idly chat, so she pretended she hadn't seen and pushed on. They were almost there. It wouldn't take her more than a minute to reach the Fat Lady.

Who only knew how long it would take to convince the Fat Lady to allow the Slytherin Deputy in when it wasn't an emergency, though. Well, if Hermione had to pull rank, she would. She just wanted to get her leg up.

She was rounding a corner when she realized that Malfoy still hadn't moved.

"Cat got your tongue?" she baited.

That seemed to do the trick, and he quickly caught up with her. "Let's get one thing straight," he grumbled. "I didn't do it because I wanted to help you, I did it for myself. The ring seems to intensify some of your emotions before giving them to me. Pain is apparently one of them."

Hermione secretly doubted whether they were really intensified. It had hurt so much that she had wanted to pass out.

"You could have taken it off," she wearily pointed out.

"Didn't want to," he said.

She glanced at him inquisitively, but he was looking away, his lips tightly pressed together. It was almost as if he hadn't meant to say that.

Why wouldn't he want to take off the ring?

"Why?" she couldn't help but press. "What happens when you take it off?"

"Nothing," he replied.

She wanted to badger him some more about it, but they had reached the Fat Lady, and now Hermione had to spend a few minutes talking her way past the meddlesome painting. Fortunately, Malfoy chose to keep silent.

When they entered the common room there were a few Gryffindors scattered about, talking, playing wizard's chess or exploding snap; doing homework, or just lounging.

Everyone fell silent and stared as their Head Girl entered with the Slytherin Deputy on her heels. Hermione's cheeks grew hot, but there really wasn't anything she could say or do, so she just made her way towards the stairs to the dormitories. She could feel Draco following her, and she just knew that the arrogant prat was smirking at her discomfort.

"I hope you rot in hell," she ground out loud enough for some people to hear, but not loud enough to warrant a punishment for open rebellion.

"You'll probably get your wish soon enough," he coolly replied. "Provided one believes in such things."

"Oh, I'll believe if it grants me my wish," she growled.

The only answer was a low laugh.

After too many bloody stairs, they finally made it up to her room. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, once she at last could push the door open. Then she frowned. She had forgotten the state of disarray her room had been in lately. Well, if King Malfoy had any complaints, she didn't care. It was his fault she didn't have much time for anything else.

Her eyes fell on the bed and her eyes widened as she saw the discarded underwear there. It was clean but still… personal. Hurriedly she hobbled forward and grabbed it, swirling around, keeping the clothes behind her back, as she heard the door click behind him.

Draco took the room in at a glance. "Interesting."

Hermione warily made her way sideways to her chest of drawers, where she quickly, and not quite stealthily, discarded her garments in the top – and entirely wrong – drawer, before slamming it closed again.

"Even more interesting," he said, a note of humor in his voice.

She whirled around to retort and saw him holding up a bra by the strap with one finger. She flushed a deep crimson and went to snatch it from him and throw it in her laundry basket.

"So, tell me, Granger," he said conversationally. "Do you always leave your unmentionables lying about like this?"

"I wasn't planning on company," she bit off.

"Is that a yes?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Somehow I thought you'd be more… organized."

"I usually am," she all but snarled, "but due to someone ordering me about all the time, I've barely had time to eat, sleep, and do homework, let alone clean my room."

He raised his eyebrows at her. "You had Sunday off," he reminded her.

She actually bared her teeth at him before limping over to the edge of the bed to sit down. She did have a desk and a chair, same as Draco, but it had become a habit that whenever they were in a room together, the chair was his. Besides, she really wanted to rest her leg.

"My one day off and I was going to spend it on cleaning?" she scoffed. "I hardly realized you would demand to come here."

He seemed to suppress a grin. "You would have cleaned for me? I'm touched, Granger."

She counted slowly backwards from ten before responding.

"I would have removed my unmentionables," she clarified once she thought she might have her temper – and her embarrassment – in check.

This was absolutely mortifying. She made a mental note that she would never be too busy to hide embarrassing laundry again, no matter how unlikely it was that she would get a visit.

Draco put down his bag, squishing any hope she might have had that he didn't really plan to stay here, and looked over her room again. His eyes fell on the bed, where she was sitting, and he frowned.

"That's not fair, your bed is bigger than mine."

Hermione fought an urge to roll her eyes. "That might be because I am Head Girl and you're only a Deputy," she said, also fighting a not entirely successful battle not to smirk. "Isn't Theo's bigger as well?"

Draco shrugged. "Never been to Theo's room," he mumbled. "Just his bathroom. It doesn't actually connect to his room, but it seems that neither does yours…." He looked around as if to check for any extra doors and then shrugged again.

"Why would you be using his bath?" Hermione asked and then, as she realized that it was sort of a personal question, she flushed a bit again and mumbled, "Never mind."

He shot her one of his annoying sardonic glances. "Deputies don't get the same perks. Theo decided to share his bath with me. You know, sort of a friendly thing to do? It would never have occurred to you to do the same for your Deputy, would it?"

She looked down her nose at him. "Padma is in Ravenclaw; I hardly see how she could benefit from having to come over here to use my bathroom."

"That's merely a detail," Draco calmly stated. "Had she been Gryffindor, you would still not have thought of it. You don't really like to share, do you? It's amazing how you haven't fallen apart at the thought of Patil doing your job for you lately."

Hermione gritted her teeth. This was something she preferred to give as little thought as possible, since there was no way for her to change it.

"None of your business," she growled. "Don't you have homework?"

He pursed his lips and instead of taking his things to her desk to work on them, he began walking around her – rather more spacious – room.

"Didn't know they supplied the Heads with a library," he drily commented as he stopped before her bookcase and looked at the titles.

"Those are my own," she informed him.

The glance he sent her was hardly flattering. "Of course," he said, before perusing the rest of the room in the same annoying and much too familiar manner.

"Could you please just… stop touching my things?" she finally exploded after a few minutes.

By the way his lips quirked, she could tell he had been waiting for this reaction. "No," he replied.

She narrowed her eyes. "You can't just go through my things like this."

"On the contrary," he calmly replied. "I believe this falls perfectly within my rights."

He was wearing a self-satisfied smile that made Hermione scowl.

"You're creepy, you know that?" she grumbled.

He shot her a haughty glance. "I'm not going through your underwear drawer, am I?" he asked. "Although maybe I should… maybe you'd keep a diary there."

Hermione couldn't reply, she was too busy staring at him in horror.

"No," he mused, ignoring her stare, "you wouldn't call it a diary, would you? You'd call it a journal, and journals are hardly hidden among one's underwear…."

She just kept staring.

He made a disgusted sound. "Snap out of it, Granger. As if I'd care to read your journal. It would probably be boring accounts of homework and snoggings."

Hermione flushed with embarrassment that he'd managed to trick her like this. But nobody could blame her for thinking he might try to learn as many embarrassing things about her as possible and lately… well…

She reminded herself to secure her journal with some nasty spells, just in case.

Suddenly Draco yelped and jumped back.

Hermione leaned forward to see what had inspired this reaction and had to clap a hand over her mouth, as she burst out laughing. It was too late, though. He had heard and was directing a murderous glare at her.

The thing that had startled him so was Crookshanks emerging from under the bed to rub against his legs.

She decided the damage was done anyway, and her eyes were filling with tears from the strain of keeping it back. "Big… bad… Slytherin…" she gasped, "afraid of itty… bitty… kitty!" She fell back, laughing.

Pink tinged Draco's cheeks, and he narrowed his eyes in a further attempt to intimidate her, but she just kept laughing. This wasn't very good for his ego.

"Not that itty-bitty," he grumbled, carefully walking around the huge, evil creature that was obviously Granger's pet.

She laughed even louder, and he glowered at her.

He didn't even know how to punish her, because, frankly, he would have laughed, too. He growled at the damn feline, who just purred back at him.

Conceding defeat, he decided to go do his homework. The cat stalked him.

"I don't think I like how affectionate your pet is, Granger," he said, pushing it away with one foot, as it tried to rub against him when he was seated.

"Crookshanks isn't affectionate," she replied, still slightly breathless. "He only likes me. Or tolerates me is more like it. He's a mean little thing." She carefully got up and went to snatch up the purring feline. "Aren't you, Crooks?" she cooed and placed a smacking kiss on the animal's forehead, before she dragged it back to the bed with her.

Draco thought the cat looked as if it would as soon murder Hermione in her sleep as allow her to cuddle it. She seemed oblivious to that fact.

He shook his head and began doing his homework.


"You're feeling guilty!"

"Am not!" Draco indignantly replied.

"Are too!" Hermione insisted.

Draco scowled. "Not!"

"Too!" She challenged his glare and then her eyes widened. "Were you the one to leave that note, too?"

And Theo makes another appearance...