The Harry Potter universe and it's characters are the sole property of J. K. Rowling. By using them below, I am in no way claiming ownership.
Hermione had abandoned all thoughts of having dinner, being too preoccupied with the strange events of the day. She had remained sat by the fire since her argument with Ginny, unresponsive to any other students' attempts to socialise. Eventually the common room crowd had left, their stomachs growling, and she was left alone to dwell on her feelings. Colin Creevey was the last to leave, skipping down the steps from his dormitory and quickly pinning a few new photos onto his bulletin board before heading down to the great hall.
Now abandoned, she stared into the flames, brooding. How can he still hold so much power over me? Hermione resented how even after the cruel way Draco had continued to taunt her, she still wanted him. It took more effort than she had to stop the memories of their brief times together, particularly the encounter in Professor Binn's broom cupboard. She shook her head. Clearly, all her self-respect had gone out the window.
Hermione sighed and pushed herself up from the armchair. I might as well be morose in my own bed. She paused at Colin's bulletin board, hoping that his latest additions might improve her mood. A few weeks ago he had posted a semi-nude picture of Harry kissing his pillow, a photo so amusing that she'd made a copy of it, so she might emotionally blackmail him with it later. There was no such luck. To Hermione's surprise, the board had been partitioned in two and now featured a second muse. On one half were the old photos of Harry, but the other... 'Malfoy,' Hermione growled. Her eyes roamed over the photos - Malfoy at the breakfast table, Malfoy in the library, Malfoy pulling that sexy, concentrated pout at a large history book. MALFOY MALFOY MALFOY MALFOY MALFOY! Ugh! Hermione took a quick breath and slowly exhaled, trying to calm herself down. 'I don't know what you're up to,' she said pointedly at a photo of Malfoy holding his broom, 'but you can wait till morning.'
Hermione ascended the staircase slowly, the exhaustion hitting her all at once. She was now happily resigned to her plans for an early night - some fluffy pyjamas, a cuddle with Crookshanks, some light reading and she'd be as good as rain. She pushed open the door to her dormitory and suddenly realised she wasn't alone.
'Wuh...' She was so confused by the sight that she lost her words. Am I hallucinating?
Draco Malfoy was in her bed. He was under her covers, his body angled to face hers, the duvet just skirting over his hips, giving her a full view of his chest. He propped his head up with his left arm, smiling licentiously. To add insult to injury, he wasn't alone. The betrayal. With his right hand, Malfoy was stroking her ginger pussycat.
'Crookshanks!' She called, infuriated. The cat glanced up, surprised at being caught by it's master and jumped from the bed. It quickly scarpered between Hermione's legs and down the stairs to the common room. 'How did you get in here!?' Hermione demanded.
Draco smirked, pushing himself up into a sitting position. The movement caused the duvet to slide lower. She quickly held up her hands in front of her, trying to block any accidental flashing of flesh from her view.
'Why don't you come join me?' Draco asked, his voice sultry.
'Boys aren't allowed in here!' Hermione insisted, utterly perplexed by how he had managed it. How could a fourth year overcome ancient magic? She thought back to the incident where Harry and Ron had attempted to come up to her dormitory, and been forced to ride the stair-slide all the way back down again.
'Hermione,' he beckoned, tilting his head. Her eyes fell onto his left cheek, where she had slapped him earlier. There were small lines branching outwards, as if he'd burst veins across his cheekbone. She didn't dwell on it, as Draco suddenly grabbed the corner of her duvet to pull it off himself entirely.
'Nope!' She quickly shouted, turning on her heels and running down the stairs.
Things were getting too far out of hand. She needed to speak to Professor McGonagall about this.