"Go. AWAY!", Hermione threw a shoe at the door. It hit home with a THUD! and bounced to the floor uselessly.

Despite her instructions, she heard the door open and on cue, buried her head in her pillow.

Hermione curled herself into a ball and felt five people settle on the bed around her. "Go away", she mumbled into her pillow half heartedly.

She heard four simultaneous sighs. There was a thing about Hermione.

Her Insight. When she was upset or angry, her five senses sharpened up. Whenever that happened, one particular sense would sharpen up.

This time, her hearing was fine tuned enough to hear the cold that Ginny was hiding as she sniffled a bit.

She heard Pansy shift on the bed, clearly uncomfortable with being in a supposed unpure witch's house.

She heard Blaise pat Pansy on the shoulder, consoling her.

She heard Harry adjust his perpetually crooked glasses as the peeling Spello-tape rubbed the bridge of his nose the wrong way.

But she didn't hear Draco. This panicked Hermione. She pricked her ears and wiggled about, trying to get a better frequency. She was worried, and when Hermione was worried, her mind went to the least possible worst case scenario.

She thought that maybe, just maybe, Draco had gone out, back to Rita Kahn. This, she knew, way back at her mind, was the least probable. What the most probable one was, she did not want to think, because it wasn't worst case scenario. It was best case.

Her thoughts were confirmed as a strong, warm pair of hands started to knead her shoulders. Her only thought was; How did he know? How did he know it calms e down?

Hermione's muscles loosened up, and Draco coaxed her into a sitting position. Her resistance crumbled.

Everyone was looking at her. She shifted uneasily where she sat. Her eyes darted, looking for and escape out of the tightly woven circle around her. Her mind leapt to her wand, which she then remembered to be forgotten in her dresser drawer.

"Oh shit", Hermione face palmed. It was quite a choice of words if they were your first in six hours, if you think about it.

"How ladylike", Blaise rolled his eyes as Hermione glared at him.

"Hand me my wand please, Zabini. In my dresser drawer"

"Why?", Pansy had a suspicious, protective gaze. Hermione figured that saracasm was the best answer for anything she didn't feel like answering at the moment.

"To drug and kill all of you and be put in Azkaban for twelve years before I break out to hug and kiss you, but someone will mistake it as drug and kill you while I say it in my sleep", Hermione said this all in a monotonic voice and with a straight face.

"Really?", Harry asked, not sure whether to be horrified that she would drug and kill him or flattered that she would risk her life to hug and kiss him.

"Scarhead, if Hermione drugged and killed us and was locked up for twelve years, we would be buried. She could not break out, dig up five graves and hug and kiss each of our dead bodies, which would be decaying masses of bugs, hair clumps and rotting bones by then.", Draco snapped irratibly.

"I knew that!", Harry protested.

"No you didn't!"

"YES, I DID, YOU DAMN BOUNCING FERRET!"

"BACK OFF POTTER, I'M A WIZARD!"

Deja vu and A Very Potter Musical reference. Find them, get a shout out in a chapter. Right answers will be mixed and drawn. R&E&R!