Title: Pillow Talk, part 2

Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applies.

AN: Wow, thanks for the response. It encouraged me to continue this one shot!

Two years prior...

Hermione was exhausted. She had spent the majority of the day moving in her furniture, clothes, and the rest of her belongings in Draco Malfoy's flat. That's right. Draco. Malfoy's. Flat. Hermione had just broken it off with Ron, both realizing that their friendship was worth more than their romantic relationship. Because of this, Hermione needed a place to stay for a while, just until she could save up enough money to afford a flat on her own. Malfoy had offered Hermione a room in his flat when he overheard her griping about it in her office at the Ministry of Magic to a fellow coworker.

An important accomplishment that night was setting up her king sized bed with the proper bedding and bed frame. Her bed frame was a traditional dark mahogany sleigh bed. Her bedding was a cream colored duvet with matching pillows that Hermione swore was the most comfortable bedding ever. It was rare occasion when Hermione had trouble sleeping. Not bothering to wait up until Draco got home, wherever he may be, Hermione dressed for bed. She snuggled in her bed, and pulled out one of her favorite novels to read, Pride and Prejudice. Not realizing how tired she was, she slowly drifted off to sleep. Hermione was about to enter the wonderful state of a deep slumber when she felt her bed being jostled by the landing of a heavy body. She woke up startled and sat up immediately reaching over to her nightstand to turn on her lamp. She glanced at the clock, realizing that two hours had passed since she had tucked herself into bed. She turned back to the middle of her bed only to be greeted by Draco Malfoy himself. He was lying on his stomach, dressed in only what Hermione could muster was a nice black Muggle suit, with his baby blue oxford shirt collar poking out of his jacket collar. He was sprawled on the top of her duvet. And he was still wearing his dress shoes, she thought, fuming at the thought of them on her bedspread.

"Malfoy!" Hermione yelled, attempting to wake him out of whatever drunken stupor he was in.

"Hmm?" he mumbled into her pillow, his face firmly planted in her comfortable down pillow.

She sighed. She looked down at what she wearing, and immediately felt the need to cover herself up a more. She would never hear the end of it if he were aware that all she donned was a simple, deep purple, silk nightie. Not wanting to leave the warmth of her bed, she pulled up the blanket as high as she could around her body. She turned towards Draco, tried to shake him awake, and at one point tried to push him off her bed with no avail.

"What?" Draco mumbled a little louder. His face still planted in her pillow, his body still lying on his stomach. An attempt to move him off her bed went unnoticed by Draco.

"Malfoy! You're in my bed!" Hermione screeched.

"Am I? I could have sworn this was my room." He raised his head up off her pillow and moved his head around to take in his surroundings. There were pictures hanging on the cream-colored walls, fresh cut flowers on the nightstand, and books. Lots of books. He promptly dropped his head back on her pillow after confirming that indeed he was in Granger's bedroom. He should have known by the smell of lavender coming off of her sheets.

"Well it's not. It's my room."

"So?" a muffled reply.

"So? You have your own bed! Get out of mine!"

"No."

"No?"

"No." He turned his head towards her, still resting on her pillow. Hermione stared at him, only realizing how silver his eyes were.

"What do you mean 'no'?" she asked, crossing her arms in front of her so that they rested on the blanket covering her form.

"Your bed is far more comfortable than mine."

"That so?"

"Mhmm," he nodded.

"Well, even so. I think you should go back to your own bed."

"Why?"

"Because this is my bed! You have your own waiting for you down the hall! And you have your shoes still on!"

"Well if that's all it takes." He shifted so he could remove his shoes effortlessly by means of his own feet. With a resounding thud, his shoes rested on the floor.

"It's going to take a lot more than that," she argued indignantly.

"Oh really?" he raised his head, smirking. Flipping over so that he was resting on his back, he undid his buckle and he swiftly removed his belt.

"Not like that you pervert!" She immediately cradled her head in her hands, to avoid any strip show by him.

"Easy, Granger. My head is pounding." He tossed his belt near the vicinity of his shoes. As an afterthought, he shrugged off his jacket and threw it on the floor. He slipped his tie over his head and undid the top buttons of his shirt.

"By all means, make yourself even more comfortable," she muttered as he plopped back down on the bed. "Where did you even go?"

"Nott's stag party was tonight. He's getting married next week. Poor bloke," he sighed.

"What's wrong with getting married?"

"Everything. Look at my parents' marriage. They married to preserve their bloodline. I don't think my parents ever said 'I love you' to each other. They barely spoke even." Draco let out huge hand gestures with every sentence, once almost hitting Hermione square in the face.

"Not all marriages are like that."

"All the marriages I've been around have been like that," Draco affirmed, tossing his arms over his face to block out the light streaming from Hermione's lamp.

"My parents' marriage wasn't like that. My marriage definitely won't be like that," she countered. "I don't know how your parents could live like that. Being in a marriage and not saying 'I love you'. That's like living without breathing," she whispered.

"And who will have the honor of wedding the most elusive Hermione Granger?"

"I'm hardly elusive. I just… I don't know. It's hard to find a guy who likes me for me, and not liking me for being Hermione Granger, War Hero."

"And Weasel?"

"We were best friends. We both agreed that it was nothing more than that." Hermione arranged her legs so she was sitting criss-cross, still safely hidden under her blanket.

"Do you think you'll ever get married?" she asked looking down at him. The length of his entire body took up nearly the whole length of the bed.

"I don't know. I hope to one day."

"I don't think I'll ever get married. Well, I should take that back. I don't get think I'll get married for the reasons people are suppose to be getting married."

"Why would you be getting married?"

"To preserve the Malfoy bloodline and secure my heir," he stated in a superior, masculine tone, making a fist in the air.

"Was that supposed to be in your father's voice?" Hermione questioned with an amused, raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, I kind of screwed that up."

"So you would marry someone to just have your heir?"

"Well not just anyone. She'd have to be a brilliant witch. Devastatingly beautiful. A strong woman. Witty. Well read. " Was he channeling Mr. Darcy or something, Hermione wondered as he list off his requirements?

"Pureblooded," she stated undeniably.

"That's my parents' stipulation, not mine."

"I see."

"Why? You interested, Granger?" asked as he leaned on the right side of his body, his right arm propping up his head.

"Most definitely not," she declared rolling her eyes.

"Shame." Hermione blinked at Malfoy's seemingly regretful response.

"I'm surprised you wouldn't mind marrying a half-blood, or muggle-born."

"Blood is blood, Granger. The war taught me that. I've dated a few muggleborns, you know."

"Really?" Hermione couldn't believe it.

"Mhmm. But obviously they didn't last."

Hermione remained tightlipped. She was still processing that the illustrious Draco Malfoy admitted to dating muggleborns, and wouldn't mind marrying one had his parents not demand it.

"Nice set up you have here, Granger. You moved in quick. Had no qualms about moving in your muggle devices I see. That's quite a large black square thing you have there." Draco looked at the dark furniture she had placed throughout the room: a dresser with a large mirror, an armoire, and a light blue flower printed armchair.

"It's a television, Malfoy."

"Ahh, yes. I've seen one of those. Interesting device."

"Thanks for letting me move in here, by the way. I was kind of shocked you even offered."

"I was more shocked you even accepted. Honestly, I might have been a little drunk when I offered," he admitted.

"Are you drunk now?"

"Hardly. I would have expected you to move in with Pothead."

"His name is Harry, or at least Potter to you, Malfoy. And he's living with Ginny now. I didn't want to intrude," she slid her hands down into her lap and clasped them together. There was a long silence. "Where did you go?" she asked attempting to start some conversation.

"Some pub in muggle London. Quite a fun night. There was this really fit girl hitting on me…"

"I'm not interested in hearing about that, thanks Malfoy."

"Better get used to it."

"Should I expect you coming into my room on a nightly basis?"

"We'll see. We'll try not to make it a habit."

"I prefer if we get to know each other better in a more appropriate setting, like a couch, or the dinner table and not my bed."

"Did you find everything around the flat okay?"

"I did, thank you."

"I was going to bring a girl back here but I remembered that you were going to be here. That would have been awkward."

"THAT would have been awkward? I can think of a more awkward situation that ended up occurring tonight," she stated crossly. "You should be aware that a girl's bed is like her sanctuary. A place provides peace and rest. It's not something that should be taken advantage of. I'm not one of those slags at those bars that invites any man into her bed."

Draco looked at Hermione as she ranted. Her brown hair was wavier that it was curly and cascaded down her back. She was slightly flushed from either embarrassment or rage Draco presumed.

"Suppose you and I work out some kind of system for the future if either one of us decides to bring someone home for the evening?"

"I doubt that will happen in my case, but if you end up finding someone, by all means. I don't intend on staying here very long, Malfoy. But I appreciate with you putting up with me."

"Don't mention it. Good lord, Granger. Are you naked underneath there?" Draco lifted up his left hand to motion towards her collarbone, nearly touching the slipping duvet against her chest.

"What! No!" Hermione looked down and saw that her thin straps had fallen down off her shoulders. "I'm wearing my nightgown. Which I definitely won't wear anymore until you can assure me you won't be barging in my room again." She fixed her straps and raised the blanket up to her neck, clutching it around her like a lifeline.

"Alright, Granger. I'm completely knackered and I can see I've outworn my welcome."

"What welcome? You barged in here, and got into my bed like it was no big thing."

"Well we clearly see the bed as two very different things. And I expect you wouldn't want me here, even if it were just to sleep. Well, I promise, Granger. It won't happen again."

With a groan, Draco rolled off her bed gracefully, picked up his discarded clothes off the floor, and waved goodbye as he crossed the room. With a cross of a threshold, he closed her door behind him. Hermione turned off her lamp and snuggled in deeply back underneath her covers. Hermione didn't know what to make of Draco's midnight visit. All she knew was that she was comforted that it wouldn't be happening again. And she would definitely be wearing flannel pajamas – just in case.