New story! It's actually inspired by the first Dramione story I'd ever written. Hope you enjoy!

Prologue

"How long can we keep doing this?" Hermione Granger wondered one night as she stared at the dark ceiling.

Beside her, at a respectable distance, laid Draco Malfoy. She was a Gryffindor in a Slytherin's bed. He was also the only other person at Hogwarts who had fought in the Second Wizarding War. They weren't friends. They were barely acquaintances. But each night, after the rest of her roommates in Gryffindor tower had gone to sleep, Hermione Granger slipped out of her bed and wandered down to the dungeons. There, the Slytherin dormitory was located, and inside, resided Draco Malfoy.

The sleepless nights had begun when they first arrived at school. The war had ended a year earlier and the reconstruction had moved quickly. By September, the school had reopened and began admitting students once more. Hermione had thought it a good idea to return in order to finish her schooling. When she arrived, all she could see were the battles, the injuries, the deaths. At night, she wandered the halls with the help of the Marauders' Map, careful to avoid anyone of authority.

It was on the first night that she came across Draco near the Great Hall. Sure that he would get in trouble for being out so late, she attempted to convince him to find someplace more private. "I think I'll stay right here if it's all the same to you," he had replied.

That night, she left him there, but watched him on the map to make sure he wasn't caught by Filch. Night after night, she found Draco in the same place. For weeks, they sat in silence, neither one sure how to begin a conversation with the other. Then, just before Halloween, he asked her why she roamed the halls at night.

"I can't stop seeing it," she admitted.

Draco then sighed and rested his head against the wall. "Me neither," he replied.

It wasn't long after that their routine evolved. One night, Filch was closer than Hermione thought. Her dorm was too far away even if she could outrun the old groundskeeper. The Slytherin dorms, however, were closer than she thought. Grabbing her hand, Draco pulled her down to the stairwell until they were sure the coast was clear. Filch remained in the foyer though. Without a word, Draco led her further down into the dungeons. She tried to protest, tried to wrench her hand free, but he held tighter.

"Would you rather stand in a stairwell all night?" he asked, taking her to his common room. "At least here you'll be comfortable."

"Yes, because nothing says comfort quite like being surrounded by people who hate me," she retorted as he sat down on a green leather sofa.

Draco shrugged as he made himself comfortable. "We hate each other and yet you seek me out every night," he stated.

Sighing, she sat down beside him, careful to keep a cushion between them. "I don't hate you," she mumbled. "Do...do you still hate me?"

He shook his head. "No," he replied. "I'm still not a fan of Potter and Weasley, but you've really given me no reason to hate you. Besides, after everything that's happened, I don't have think I have the strength to dislike you anymore."

"That's good to know, I guess," she said, resting her head against the back of the sofa.

Propping his feet up on the coffee table, he beckoned her to come closer. "You look tired," he commented. "Put your head down."

She glanced at him warily. "Where?"

Closing his eyes, he shrugged. "Anywhere," he replied. "McGonagall confiscated the throw pillows after a few first years decided they made good weapons. You, um, could use my, uh, lap."

Smirking, she instead mimicked his posture. "Is this how you get girls to sleep with you?" she wondered. "Make up a story about throw pillows and offer them your lap instead?"

"Most girls are dumb enough to fall for it," he joked. "Clearly you're too smart for my usual moves."

Placing her feet back on the floor, she sat up straight. "Are you...is that what you're trying to do?" she asked nervously.

He opened his eyes then and shook his head. "I promise you I'm not," he replied. "Um, most nights after I talk to you, I sleep sort of well. I don't know why that is, but that's the way it is. I was curious to see if sleeping near you might produce a better night's sleep."

"Trying to appeal to the academic-minded with your hypothesis, are you?" she asked.

"How else would I do it?" he wondered, shutting his eyes once more. "Now, try to sleep. You won't need your trunk anymore with the bags under your eyes."

And it had worked. Hermione had slept better that night than she had in years. From that night on, they met in the stairwell and Draco took her to his dormitory. After weeks of sleeping on the couch and numerous complaints about his sore neck, they moved to his bed. As the only Slytherin "eighth" year, Draco had been given private quarters usually reserved for the head student.

Now, with only weeks until the term ended, Hermione worried that it meant the end of her dreamless nights. She also worried that it meant the end of her quasi friendship with Draco. Though they didn't interact often during school hours, they did share classes during the day and a bed at night. Their friends would never approve of their situation though. For too long Draco had harassed and tortured Harry, Ron, and the Weasleys. They wouldn't soon forgive his childhood bullying.

Beside her, Draco sighed. "We're not doing anything wrong," he stated.

"I know," she replied. "I wasn't implying that we were. I'm just curious."

Rolling onto his side, he smiled when she did the same. "How long do you want this to go on?" he wondered. "Because I know my answer."

"What about our friends?" she asked.

He lifted one shoulder carelessly. "What about them?" he replied. "Like I said - we're not doing anything wrong."

Hermione nodded and reached for his hand. "I don't want this to end when school does," she decided.

Draco smiled and tightened his grip on her hand. "I don't either."