Hermione couldn't focus on anything, there had been an Order meeting last night. They were planning their strategy, this war was happening. Both sides were getting ready to move, it was just a matter of time.
She couldn't get a word in, they were disorganized and fighting. Everyone had their own idea of how they should be preparing, but they were all blurting it out at the same time. There was no semblance of order
It was all Harry and Ron could talk about, it was all anyone could talk about and it was driving her mad. She didn't have any more tolerance for any more talk of wars or battles or strategies or who to trust and who not to trust. She had to get away from it. Her head was thrumming, she could hear the blood pulsing to her brain, she couldn't even concentrate on the book in front of her.
She groaned as she rubbed at her temple, then glanced over the top of the page at Malfoy who was sprawled from one end of the couch to the other, with his eyes on his own book, blonde hair fanned across his forehead.
She thought back to the first night they had shared this space with one another.
When Draco walked through the entrance the next night in his ruffled uniform, Hermione still couldn't quite believe how unlucky she had become. She had thought, or rather hoped Malfoy had been bluffing about coming back.
Draco had come in, nodded and grunted at Hermione, who was unable to hide her expression that was somewhere between shock and agitation, as she was perched quietly in her usual spot at the long ancient wood table on the Gryffindor chair, inspected the book cases quietly, picked one he found fitting, wandered over to the couch and sat down.
She couldn't help gawking at Draco, who made himself quite at home, sprawling out on the couch with his nose in that book, just like he was now. She tried to rationalize the ridiculous situation she had come to find herself in.
Keep your friends close and your enemies' closer….?
She shook that thought off, she wanted no part of getting anywhere that could be considered even close to Malfoy.
The evening had passed with an electric tenseness coursing through the air.
Draco had got up and left quietly, without even looking at Hermione, who had finally been able to settle in and get some work done, around sunrise.
They interacted awkwardly around each other.
He was acting so indifferent, like she wasn't even there. Which suited her just fine, except she couldn't stop feeling suspicious of him. She felt like a dog with her hackles raised waiting for Draco to start a fight, she felt almost silly when she continuously checked to be sure her wand was quickly reachable.
Then she would scold herself silently.
He is on voldemorts side, he wants you dead, no matter how ignorant he acts.
She tried to reciprocate, but the more she tried to ignore him the more she ended up paying attention to him.
For days it went on like that. Draco would show up at no certain time in the night, browse the book cases, or bring one of his own and settle himself on the couch which he would end up stretched out on by the end of the night.
It made her nerves stand on edge, she didn't like or trust a quiet Malfoy. But he couldn't keep his sharp tongue quiet for long. He didn't last longer than a week before he started throwing non-committal insults her way. It calmed her when he began to make quips at her once and a while.
She thought back to the annoyed tone he had used.
"Do you have to think so bloody loud, Granger? I can hear you from across the room."
She had let out an audible sigh of relief then, she felt silly, but book worm Malfoy made her much tenser than stupid git Malfoy did.
The nights began to blur together as the two followed their routine. During the day they would act no different, no passing glances were spared to the other, no odd friendship was stricken up, they were after all, still each other's enemies.
When Draco would make a snide remark towards Harry or Ron, Hermione would come to the room huffy and she made sure he knew she was less than pleased with his company and vice versa when Hermione would show him up in a class or two.
But no comradeship was wasted between them.
They might not always come at the same time each night, they might not have said a single word to the other as the hours passed, but they always came, every night.
Once in a while he would catch her sidelong looks at him, their eyes would meet, his with a burning intensity, most likely from annoyance, he would scowl and she would have the decency to act slightly embarrassed and hide behind her book for a few minutes until she unconsciously checked on him again.
The anxiety still hung in the air between them. Never leaving, but lessening to a degree.
Except for the occasional one-liner comment, that would be delivered from either side, the nights passed mostly in a quiet companionable silence. Companionable, which is what their rendezvous had become, more or less. It was comforting knowing they had a place to go to hide from the talk of spies and alliances, even though neither would admit it.
An over exaggerated clearing of Malfoys throat broke Hermione out of her hazy thoughts.
"You're bloody starring again, Granger. Could you at least try and pretend like you have manners?" He was acting overly disgruntled.
"Sod off, you twat." It always made her feel good, making a retort that made Malfoys nose scrunch up like it was now.
Hermione, looking back at her book, pinched the bridge of her nose. She really needed to focus on her work.