Hermione quietly unpacked her chest, fidgeting nervously with her hair and spreading the corners of her already neat sheets on her bed as she waited for him. Of all the students at Hogwarts, the person elected as Head Boy alongside her HAD to be him. They'd never gotten along, ever. He'd always mocked her, called her names, all around hated her as much as she could tell. She was used to people being annoyed at the fact that she was a teacher's pet and sometimes a know-it-all…But he had the same reputation…He hated her for something she couldn't control, the family she was born into…and that made it all the worse.

But what she thought was the worst of all was the fact that secretly she'd always half admired, and half been intimidated by his intensity. His icy blue stare and unwavering strength never ceased to give her chills…And despite the moments of pure hatred toward him, she'd always been physically attracted to him. His flaxen hair and ivory skin that flushed when rage or embarrassment coursed through him. She still remembered the day he was attacked by the hippogriff. While Ron had a vengeful grin on his face when it happened, she'd felt her heart stop for a moment as he fell to the ground and his blood had poured out onto his robes. She'd played it off as a reaction to seeing the blood itself…But she'd still been relieved when Harry'd assured that his pain was all an act and he was in actuality fine.

And while she hated him for making her work even harder than she already was to save the innocent Buckbeak, at the same time she couldn't ever despise him fully… Somewhere deep inside him…She thought she'd seen…or perhaps had just imagined, a shimmer of good. She knew his father was extremely vindictive over him, just from rumor. She'd also heard that when on holiday from school he spent all his time with private magic and quidditch tutors, who his father hired in determination for him to get ahead.

In all honesty, though he bragged about his luxurious life, had little or no time on his hands for friends or free time. It made Hermione sympathetic, he was the boy who had it all in material and public status, but had nothing but two muscled cronies and a web of lies to keep him secure in his social life.

Before her pondering could take her any further, the door creaked open and Draco walked in slowly, his cool blue eyes sweeping the room. His eyes stopped on Hermione for a moment, but he said nothing and moved over to his chest and began unpacking as well. The silence hung like a dead weight in the room and nothing could be heard but the rustling of robes and sliding of books and parchment. With a sharp clunk Hermione closed her trunk and looked around the room entirely for the first time.

It was a round room on the top of a tower. There were two tall windows on either side of the room that opened onto small private balconies, and a bathroom off the side with two showers, baths, stalls and sinks for private use. There was a large fireplace with two deeply cushioned armchairs. A long curtain could be drawn across the entire room for privacy from one another, but the beds also had curtained hangings if the middle curtain was left open at night. The hangings on her side were blood red velvet and had golden filigree and stitching, while on his side were deep green and silver. A large silver serpent was entwined artfully on the headboard of his bed, while on hers a golden lion.

A small wooden plaque hung between the two beds, with an engraved brass plate upon it that read "Congratulations Head Boy and Girl Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger." Below were their houses and the Hogwarts seal, and then Dumbledore's name.

The door led down a spiral staircase into an obviously charmed corridor, that when taken would lead directly to their common rooms, so they could easily visit friends whenever desired and also to the main staircase. Beside the door was a small table with a stone pitcher and two glasses. There were large cherry wood wardrobes and dressing tables that they had packed their robes into, and full length mirrors for either of them. Hermione had unpacked some small trinkets onto her bedside table and dresser, and now sat nervously on her bed, her fingers twined together. Her mouth felt rather dry, and she rose up and after glancing out the window walked over to the table with the pitcher, Draco, it seemed, had also risen to get a drink (Just my luck, Hermione thought, hoping they could avoid confrontation for that night, at least) and she stood, waiting for him to take his drink first, but he motioned with his hand dismissively to let her go.

She muttered "No, go ahead."

And he replied softly, but without annoyance in his tone, "Go on."

After another second of hesitation they both reached out for a glass and their hands brushed together. They both withdrew quickly and Hermione threw a secret glance up. Draco looked determinedly away and they reached down and took separate glasses. Draco lifted the pitcher and poured water into his glass carefully and then (to her utmost surprise) filled Hermione's glass as well.

Never before had Draco ever acted so civilly to Hermione in the 6 years they'd known one another. He went and sat on his trunk, sipping his water and carefully avoiding Hermione's gaze.

Hermione shrugged it off. Perhaps Draco, finally showing an ounce of common sense, decided to at least put their differences aside for now, since they were going to be living in close quarters for the next year. While he wasn't exactly being warm, at least he wasn't sneering and insulting her parentage.

She walked out to her balcony and looked down at the sweeping green grounds that now glowed with a silvery bluish sheen in the moonlight. She drank the rest of her water, and felt overwhelming fatigue fall over her. She went back inside; closing the window and setting the glass back down on the table. She walked into the bathroom and washed her face, brushing and flossing like a good little dentists' daughter. She pulled her hair back and looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, studying her teeth and her eyebrows for a moment before yawning and leaving the bathroom.

Draco lay on his bed reading, hangings open, his robes off, but still in his slacks and shirt. She went into her wardrobe and pulled out some pajamas, and then without a word closed the curtain that separated them. She changed quickly and slid under the soft covers of her bed. She heard Draco get out of bed and amble into the bathroom a few moments later. Water ran for a bit and then she heard brushing of teeth and other patterings around. Then she heard his footsteps come back into the room and some rustling of clothing being changed and then silence. Hermione leaned over to her beside table and with three short puffs of air extinguished the candelabra and turned over, falling into dreams.

Readers: I don't know…This already sounds like another predictable Hermione/Draco ship to me.

Me: I SWEAR! I PROMISE!! IT REALLY ISN'T!!! PLEASE BELIEVE ME!!