5. A Pleasant Surprise

Author's Note: I know, I haven't updated in a really long time. But I have a couple of excuses! The first one is...well...I was away at Disney World for a week. And the other is that...well...I've been suffering from writer's block. Again. But my boyfriend keeps pestering me about updating, because he wants to know what's going to happen, so...this one's for you, baby. ;)

Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter.

Making out with Pansy Parkinson was never one of Draco's favorite pastimes, but it sure did beat the alternative, which happened to be patrolling.

He and Hermione had been given the evening off, and Draco was determined to take advantage of his free time by engaging in some extra-curricular activities with someone of the opposite sex. Fortunately (or unfortunately) for him, Pansy Parkinson was readily available – as always.

The thing Draco liked the least about making out with Pansy was how bored he got while doing it. Sure, he was a guy, and like the average hot-blooded male, he enjoyed getting physical with members of the opposite sex. However, what he seemed to lack with Pansy – and every other girl he had ever gotten physical with – was any sort of emotional attachment. Not that he minded, really. After all, he was a Malfoy in every sense of the word, and Malfoy men weren't supposed to get emotional. But sometimes when he was kissing Pansy, he longed to feel some romantic feelings for her. Not that he would necessarily recognize romantic feelings if he experienced them – but that was the precise reason why he wanted to experience them.

But right now, he was experiencing nothing but pure lust as she straddled his lap, kissed his neck, and grasped eagerly onto his hair. And like every other make-out session with her, he couldn't wait for it was time for her to go back to her own common room.

"Oh Draco," she moaned, gently biting his earlobe. She had always been under the impression that doing it turned him on, when actually, it had always kind of irked him. He'd never had the heart to tell her, though. Mainly, he didn't want to do or say anything that would cost him these make-out sessions. He needed them. It was the only time he ever felt human at all.

"Pansy," he gasped. He captured her mouth with his and kissed her so hard that they could barely breathe. That's how Pansy liked it.

She returned his kiss for only a few moments before breaking it. She pulled back slightly and stared at him, trying to catch her breath. For a moment, she had lost herself completely in his eyes. And then, she knew it was time to take things to the next level. She gave him a quick kiss on the lips and slowly began to remove her shirt.

However, the shirt got only halfway over her head when a noise coming from the direction of the portrait hole broke them both out of their lustful daze. Pansy squealed and promptly pulled her shirt back down. Draco quickly pushed her off of him, and she landed beside him on the couch with a slight "oomph".

He glanced up at the cause of this intrusion: Hermione Granger. She had apparently stormed in through the portrait hole, with the intent of going straight to her room. Of course, she halted slightly when she caught sight of what was happening on the couch.

"Oh!" she gasped. And then she just stood there, frozen, with an expression on her face that was a mixture of embarrassment and fury. Draco never knew that combination was even possible. But she had managed to pull it off. Now, the embarrassment he could explain, but the fury...he had no idea where that had come from.

"Granger, what the hell?" he snapped.

Hermione, whose jaw had only seconds before practically been touching the floor, replied, "I'm sorry. I didn't know that you were-"

"The hell you didn't," he grumbled. He quickly smoothed out his hair as he glared up at her. "I told you earlier that I was having a guest over tonight. Did you suddenly forget our rule?"

"Yes," she stammered. "I mean, no – I didn't forget our rule, I just forgot you said you were having anyone over tonight."

Draco stared up at her. It had been twelve days since she had proposed that little friendship idea, and he had seriously begun to consider it. In fact, he had agreed to it, under one condition: that they only got along in the privacy of their own common room – nowhere else, and with nobody else around. She had been fine with that, saying that all she wanted was to live peacefully with him for the rest of the year. But now, Draco was seriously regretting having agreed to the whole thing. Because right now, he was not feeling very friendly toward her.

Hermione stared back at him, most likely avoiding the death glares coming from Pansy. It was in this moment that Draco realized that along with the expression of embarrassment and fury, there was an expression of anguish. And judging from her slightly red, puffy eyes, she had most likely been crying.

Instead of asking her what was wrong, however, he said simply, "Get out."

Once again, Hermione's jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"

"I said, get out. It's my night for guests, so you need to leave."

Hermione looked from Draco, to Pansy, then back to Draco. "Fine," she said. She proceeded to stomp toward her bedroom.

Draco sighed. "Granger, what are you doing?"

"I'm going to my room," she replied. "I'm leaving you two alone. I'm giving you privacy."

"When I said get out, I meant get out of here completely – not just migrate to your room."

"You can't kick me out," she said.

Draco stood up and folded his arms across his chest. "You underestimate the things I can do, Granger. Now leave before I make you leave."

Hermione opened her mouth as if to argue, but quickly shut it. Suddenly, she looked very tired. "Please," she said quietly. "Please let me stay here. I have nowhere else to go."

"Do you honestly think I care? That's not my problem, Granger."

Hermione's lower lip began to tremble. "Please, you won't even know I'm here, I promise."

Draco took a step forward. "Get. Out. Now."

She continued to stare at him, her eyes pleading with him to let her stay.

For a brief moment, Draco almost caved in and let her. But one look at Pansy convinced him not to. Not only would it kill their evening together, but it would also make Pansy suspicious as to why he was suddenly being nice to a Gryffindor mudblood. And he couldn't risk that.

So instead, he said in a low voice, "If you don't leave now, Granger, I will physically remove you myself."

Hermione inhaled sharply. For a moment, Draco was sure that Hermione was going to begin yelling and screaming and hitting, but he was wrong. Instead, she threw her schoolbooks onto the floor in front of her and without another word, she brushed past him and ran out of the room.

When she was gone, Pansy snorted. "What a stupid bitch."

Draco ignored her and stared down at the books on the floor. He felt terrible. Obviously, Hermione had been upset about something, and Draco had made her leave, without even asking if she was okay. Of course, that wasn't exactly out of character for him. He was sure Hermione was not surprised in the least at the way he'd acted. But something was creeping up in the pit of his stomach, and he was pretty sure it was guilt.

"Leave it to a mudblood to ruin the mood," Pansy continued, examining her fingernails. "Honestly, I'm amazed you've managed to last this long living with her. I think I would have smothered her with a pillow by now-"

"Shut up, Pansy," Draco said through clenched teeth.

Pansy looked up at him with a look of shock. "Excuse me?"

Draco took a deep breath in an attempt to control his sudden anger. "Pansy, maybe you should leave too."

"You're kidding," she said simply, shaking her head.

"Actually, I'm not," he said. "I would appreciate it if you left. I'm not really in the mood for fooling around right now."

Pansy looked at him in disbelief. "Well, you were in the mood before she showed up." The second the words were out of her mouth, Pansy's eyes widened, as if some sort of realization had just dawned on her. However, she shook her head as if trying to disprove the theory in her mind. "Fine," she said stiffly, getting up from the couch. "We can finish this some other time." Without saying goodbye, she walked straight to the portrait hole and left.

For a moment, Draco stood there, wondering what had just happened. Why had he kicked Pansy out? Now she seemed suspicious, and with good reason. But Draco couldn't worry about that right now. He felt like such a jerk for getting rid of Granger. This would no doubt put a strain on their already weak friendship – if you could even refer to their relationship as that. Things had been going just fine since their little agreement, and he had to go and screw it up. It was only a matter of time.

So, in hopes to maybe salvage whatever kind of relationship they did have, Draco decided to take a seat on the couch and wait for Hermione to return. When she did, he would ask her what was wrong and perhaps, if the mood hit him, he would apologize.

He woke up a couple hours later. He sat up on the couch and looked around the dimly lit room. The fire had gone out completely in the fireplace. How long had he been asleep? He didn't even remember falling asleep in the first place. So much for waiting up for Hermione. She must have come home and tiptoed past him, not wanting to wake him. He yawned as he pulled himself up from the couch. Oh well. He could apologize in the morning.

He was heading toward his bedroom when he stumbled over something on the floor. After cursing to himself, he bent down and picked up the object – it was one of Hermione's text books. That was a bit odd. One thing he had always noticed about Hermione was that she was a neat freak. It seemed weird that she would leave her books on the floor all night, without either taking them to her room, or at least placing them onto the table. Was it possible that she hadn't returned home yet? If she hadn't, then what was she doing? It wasn't like Granger to stay out late on a school night.

Clutching the book in his hand, Draco walked over to Hermione's bedroom door. He knocked once, quietly. When he received no response, he knocked once more, only louder this time. He braced himself for the possible wrath that would be the result of him coming within fifteen feet of her bedroom. But nothing happened.

"Granger," he said loudly, deciding to try a different approach. Still nothing. He reached for the doorknob, even though he figured it was pointless. Her bedroom was most likely protected by some sort of spell to keep out unwanted visitors – namely him. And he was right – sort of. While he was able to open the door, he was unable to take a step into the room. Still, he was able to glance in, and Hermione was not in there.

"Where are you, Granger?" he mumbled to himself. It was way past midnight now, and the fact that Hermione had not come back concerned him – as much as he wished it didn't. And what was worse – he wanted nothing more than to go try and find her.

Don't bother, he told himself. She's probably with Potter and the Weasels. She's probably spending the night in the Gryffindor common room. Yes, he figured that was probably the case. Still, he was pretty sure he'd be unable to get back to sleep until he knew exactly where she was.

So, grabbing his wand off the table, he set out to look for her. He had no way of knowing if she was, in fact, staying overnight in the Gryffindor common room, but he figured if he exhausted every other place first, he could safely assume that's where she was. He certainly wasn't going to go pleading with the Fat Lady to let him in to check. On the off chance that she did let him in (which was very unlikely), he wasn't in the mood to deal with any stuffy Gryffindors tonight.

He figured the library would be a good place to start looking, followed by the Astronomy Tower. If he didn't find her either place, and didn't run into her in the hallways in the meantime, he decided he would give up and just go back to sleep. At least then, he could say he tried. But why was he even bothering, anyway?

The dark hallway stretched out before him like an empty abyss, yet he felt no need to light up his wand. He had these halls memorized so well, he could easily navigate in the dark. He was used to sneaking out late at night with his friends and having to find his way without a light source. He'd never had the luxury, like Harry Potter, of owning an invisibility cloak, so he had to find other means of not getting caught – like merely blending in with the shadows. And he certainly did not want to get caught tonight. What would he tell the teacher who caught him? That he was out after curfew because he was concerned about a bushy-haired mudblood and had decided to go looking for her? Yeah, like they would believe that one.

Whistling softly, Draco made his way toward the library. The halls seemed pretty dead tonight – there didn't even seem to be any prefects running around. Draco was thankful for this, as it made everything a whole lot easier. However, he realized he had made the assumption too early when he heard voices coming from around the next corner. Draco immediately stopped in his tracks and listened.

"Silencio!" a male voice called out. The command was followed by snickering.

"Scared yet?" another voice said. Draco began to feel a bit uneasy when he realized that he recognized these voices.

They belonged to Crabbe and Goyle.

"Whoa!" Goyle called out. "Where do you think you're going?" The boy paused for a second, and there was a slight thud, as if something had hit the floor. "Hold her down."

Hold her down? Draco groaned inwardly. His friends were obviously up to no good – as usual – but whatever they were doing right now sounded a bit more serious than their normal antics. Even though it was his evening off from duties, Draco knew he would have to step in reprimand his friends before continuing his search for Hermione.

Rolling his eyes in exasperation, Draco turned the corner, ready to scold his friends. Instead, he froze in place when he saw the scene in front of him. Crabbe was crouched down, grasping the arms of what looked like a frail girl, pinning her down to the floor. Goyle stood before them, his wand pointed down toward the girl. Draco's breath caught in his throat when he realized that the girl on the floor was Hermione.

Without even thinking twice, he stormed over to Crabbe, grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him up from the floor with all of his strength and flung him against the wall. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he yelled, not caring if he attracted the attention of anyone who might be patrolling the halls.

Crabbe stared at him, stunned at first, but then a smile slowly crept over his face. "Draco, how nice of you to join us. I hope you're not mad that we're doing this without you. We didn't bother to ask if you wanted to join us. We thought you had a date with Pansy tonight."

Draco stared incredulously first at Crabbe, and then over at Goyle. His grip tightened on his wand, fighting the sudden urge to impale both of his friends with it. He glanced down at Hermione now, who was slowly lifting herself up from the floor. She appeared to be shaken, frightened and a bit relieved. One single tear traveled down the side of her face.

"What the fuck do you two think you were doing?" Draco asked steadily through clenched teeth. Stay calm, he told himself. You do not want to end up in Azkaban for killing two fucking numskulls – as satisfying as it would be right now.

"We were just having some fun," Goyle replied.

"Fun? You call torturing someone fun?"

"Yes," Goyle said, "we do. And you used to, too! What the hell is happening to you, Draco?"

Draco felt like someone had just kicked him in the stomach. Goyle was right. There was a day when he would have gotten extreme pleasure out of torturing an innocent mudblood. But what he had just witnessed made him feel sick. What the hell was happening to him?

Trying to decide how he should handle the situation, he finally settled on the idea that he would just deal with them later. And he would make damn sure that he did. But right now, he just wanted to get Hermione back to the common room safe and sound. "Get the fuck out of here, both of you," he grumbled.

Both Crabbe and Goyle hesitated, looking at Draco as if neither of them even recognized him.

"Okay, we'll go," Goyle said finally. He turned to go, but stopped right in front of Hermione. He put on an evil grin and said in a low voice, "We'll continue this later. I promise."

The rage Draco had been so desperately trying to control finally snapped as he lunged himself at Goyle. He secured his hand firmly around Goyle's throat and backed him up against the wall. "You will not continue this later, do you understand me?"

Goyle, wide-eyed from both shock and lack of oxygen to his lungs, nodded quickly.

Draco removed his hand from his best friend's neck. "Good. Now, I'm taking fifty points from each of you."

Goyle's jaw dropped, but Crabbe chuckled. "Good one, Draco."

"This isn't a joke, you moron," Draco said, glaring over at him.

"You can't take points from your own house!" Goyle exclaimed.

"Actually, I can. And I just did. Now get out of my sight before I make it seventy-five points."

Crabbe, who was no longer smiling, narrowed his eyes at Draco, as if trying to figure out if he really was serious. Figuring that he most likely was serious, he gave Goyle a pat on the back and mumbled, "Let's get out of here."

Goyle nodded. He avoided Draco's gaze and glared over at Hermione. It looked as though he wanted to say something, but figured it would be best if he didn't. Instead, he just followed Crabbe silently around the corner, and then they were gone.

It was while he was watching them walk away that Draco realized he was shaking – possibly from anger, possibly from something else. He couldn't tell. He spun around and looked at Hermione, who was just staring at him in disbelief – probably because he had just taken a total of one hundred points from his own house. She opened her mouth to speak, and her face fell when she realized that thanks to Goyle's spell, she was unable to.

Draco shook his head at her. He suddenly realized that a lot of the anger he was still feeling was directed at her. And before he knew what he was doing, he marched over to her, grabbed her arm tightly and began to drag her back to the common room.

She looked like she wanted to protest. But since she could not vocalize her protest, she tried to resist him at first, trying to pry his hand off her arm. However, once she realized it was no use, she just gave up and let him lead her. Once they had made it back to their common room, Draco mumbled the password. When the portrait hole opened up, he quickly pulled her inside and let go of her arm; his sudden release made her stumble slightly.

"What the hell were doing out in the halls alone this late at night?" he yelled at her.

Hermione stared at him with a frightened expression on her face. She seemed confused as to why he was yelling at her. But of course, she could not answer his question, so he went on.

"How many times have I told you that it's not safe for someone like you to be lurking around in the dark by yourself? Are you stupid? Do you have a fucking death wish?"

Hermione's lower lip began to tremble. She opened her mouth and tried to speak once more, but no sound came out. Realizing that she was still under the silencing spell, Draco immediately reversed it. The first sound Hermione made was a sob.

Suddenly, Draco felt like the biggest jackass in the world. He was taking his anger and frustration out on the victim. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn't help but be mad at her right now. She had done something incredibly foolish, and she had almost paid the price for it.

"Why were you out so late?" he demanded.

Hermione glared up at him. "Aren't you forgetting something? You kicked me out."

Oh yeah…Refusing to take any responsibility for this, he said, "Yes, I kicked you out. But you were supposed to be off playing with your little Gryffindor mates, not getting attacked in the hallway."

"I told you I had nowhere to go!" she cried. She looked like she was on the verge of tears.

She was right. She had told him that, and he had ignored her. "Yeah, well…I didn't think you meant it."

"Well, I did mean it," she said quietly as tears began sliding down her cheeks.

Draco's anger quickly subsided as he stared down at Hermione. He sighed and said in a soft tone, "What's wrong? What happened?"

Hermione wiped away her tears and glared up at him again. "Oh what, so now you suddenly care what's wrong with me? Now that your little trollop friend isn't here? How sweet. I'm so flattered that you care," she said sarcastically, "but I really don't feel like discussing anything with you." She turned away from him and threw herself down onto the couch, burying her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook slightly as she began to sob.

"I do care, you know," he blurted out without meaning to.

Hermione sniffled and glanced up at him in surprise. She didn't dare ask him to validate his statement for fear that he would tell her he was just kidding. But she didn't have to. The fact that he was now taking a seat beside her on the couch was validation enough.

"What happened?" he asked her once more.

"I can't talk about it," she said softly, avoiding his gaze. "If I tell you, you'll just…be a jerk about it."

"Probably," Draco said with a slight smile, "but me being a jerk will most likely take your mind off whatever problem you're having."

Hermione smiled back. "Probably." She sighed. "It has to do with Harry."

Draco couldn't help but groan at the name.

"See? I knew I wouldn't be able to talk about this with you -"

"No, Granger, I'm sorry - go on. I'll be good. I promise."

Hermione took another deep breath, as if hesitating to go on. But finally she said in a small voice, "I just found out tonight that…Harry has invited Ginny to the Yule Ball."

Draco snorted. Hermione glared at him.

"Forget it," she said, getting up from the couch. "I should have known better than to tell you anything!"

"I'm sorry," he said again. He reached up and grabbed her arm, pulling her down onto the couch again. "It was just a reflex, I couldn't help it. It's just…that's what has you so upset? I thought you were going to tell me Potter died, or something."

Hermione shook her head. "I'm sorry you can't understand why this might bother me. But then, why would you understand? You've never been in love before."

Draco raised an eyebrow at her. "Wait, you're admitting to me that you've been in love with Potter all along? Just as I had suspected?"

"Go ahead and gloat over your superior ability to know when somebody has a crush on Harry Potter."

"Thanks," Draco said with a grin. "I will. But first, let me ask you – why are you so damned upset that Potter has a crush on the Weaslette, when you should be thanking your lucky stars?"

Hermione stared at him. "I should be thankful that Harry loves someone else?"

"No, you should be thankful that you're finding out sooner, rather than later, that Potter is a stupid git."

"Oh yeah? And how do you figure that Harry is a stupid git?"

"Oh, please, Granger. You've been in love with Potter for, what, at least a couple of years? And he's been completely oblivious to it the whole time? Even I could see that you had the warm and fuzzies for him. If he can't see that, then he must be brain-dead. Granger, you're the smartest student in this school. Even you can do better than Harry fucking Potter."

Hermione stared down at her hands. "Or maybe…maybe he has known all along, but he's just chosen to ignore it. I mean, it would be easier that way for him, than to have to confront me about it. I'm no Ginny Weasley, you know. I'm not…beautiful or popular or…anything, really. I'm just…plain, boring Hermione Granger."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Oh, right. Come on, Granger, you're so much more than that, and you know it. And I can't believe you're going to make me point this out to you. You are the smartest witch of your age, and every single teacher, with the exception of Snape, has told you this. They practically drool every time you raise your hand to answer a question. And on top of being book smart, you are incredibly witty. If the truth were known, I actually enjoy arguing with you because you're always quick with a comeback, and you're the only person who has ever been able to leave me without a retort. And sure – you're no Ginny Weasely, but you're hardly the most unattractive person in the world. I've seen plenty of house elves that would look ugly next to you, and maybe even some humans, too. Pansy comes to mind."

Hermione giggled. She'd been staring at Draco the whole time he was talking, and she couldn't tell if he was for real or not. Because if she didn't know any better, she would have thought that Draco Malfoy had just complimented her.

Draco smiled. "See? I told you that I would take your mind off of your problem. Which, by the way, I don't think is really much of a problem at all. So, Potter likes the Weaslette. You should be happy for them. Hasn't that girl been in love with him since she was about five, or something? And Potter is not the only boy worthy of your love, you know. I'm sure there are plenty of other unfortunate souls out there just waiting to put the moves on you. Just you wait."

"You are the master of backhanded compliments, do you know that?"

"I am the master of a lot of things," Draco said, grinning mischeviously. "Just ask any girl I've ever dated."

"I'd rather not," Hermione said, grinning. She stood up from the couch and yawned. "Gosh, I'm tired. It's been a long night. I'm going to bed now."

"Good idea," Draco said, standing up as well. A moment of awkwardness suddenly passed between them.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Hey, listen, um…thank you."

"For what?"

"Well, for one, saving me from your friends tonight."

Draco cringed when she referred to them as his 'friends'. "No problem," he said coolly.

"But seriously, thank you. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't showed up…"

Draco knew what would have happened. He had been friends with those guys for over six years now. He knew perfectly well what they were capable of. Suddenly, he had an overwhelming feeling of relief that he had showed up when he did. "You're welcome."

"I can't believe you took all those points from them," she said, shaking her head.

"They're just lucky I didn't take more. They're just lucky they didn't hurt you, or I would have…" His voice trailed off as he chose not to tell her what he would have done to them if that had happened. It wouldn't be a very nice thing to say.

Hermione glanced down at her feet. "Well, so I just wanted to thank you for that, and for trying to talk some sense into me about Harry."

"Anytime."

Hermione shifted her gaze toward him and rocked slightly on her heel. "Okay, well…goodnight, then."

"Goodnight."

What happened next surprised both of them equally: Hermione lifted herself up on her toes and planted a quick, gentle kiss on Draco's cheek. When she pulled away, her face was burning bright red. Draco had to wonder if maybe his was too.

Quickly, she stepped back. Regaining her composure, she cleared her throat and said, "Just to let you know, your secret's safe with me. I won't tell anyone that you're capable of being a nice guy." With a grin and a wink, she turned on her heel and headed straight to her bedroom.

Draco just stood there feeling slightly numb. Hermione Granger, the girl he had taunted and tormented for the last six years, had just kissed him on the cheek. Who would have ever seen that coming? He was so distracted by it, that he didn't even realize he was heading to his own bedroom – and with a big, goofy smile plastered to his face.

He was beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, being a nice guy wouldn't be so bad after all.

Still, he managed to fight all feelings of arousal and say, "No."

"No?" She sat up in the bed. "Why not?"

He sighed. "Because I know the second that I do, you'll leave."

She giggled. "O, ye of little faith. What makes you think I would do something like that?"

He stared at her. "Because you do it every time."

She shrugged. "Well, maybe this time, it will be different. Maybe this time, I have a surprise. A pleasant one."

"I doubt that."

"Well, why don't you just try it and find out? What do you have to lose?"

"You."

She smiled. She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "You will never lose me. Now close your eyes."

He didn't want to, he really didn't. But just looking at her pleading face…so beautiful and innocent…he realized that turning down her wishes was not an option.

"Pretty please?" she said, batting her eyelashes. "Do it for me?"

"Fine," he mumbled. He closed his eyes. He did it for her.

For a few brief moments, there was nothing but complete silence. He wanted to open his eyes, to see if she was still there, but he knew he couldn't until she told him to.

"Okay," she whispered into his ear. He could no longer feel her breath up against him.

"Open your eyes."

Draco's eyes flew open in an instant. He gasped and sat up, immediately glancing around the room, looking for Hermione. Of course, she was not there. She had left him, as usual. Or rather, he had left her. Instead of opening his eyes in his dream, he had simply woken up. It was just as well. He wasn't sure he would have been able to handle the ending of another one of those dreams.

His heart was racing, and his mouth felt bone-dry. Those dreams usually took a lot out of him. He had a sudden urge to go to Hermione's room, but he stopped himself this time. He had to stop this. He couldn't keep doing this.

Instead, he got up off the bed and stretched, figuring the best thing to do right now would be to go get a glass of water. He was heading to the door when he heard a thump come from out in the common room. He froze, listening closer. The next sound he heard was a cough.

He groaned. Another unwanted guest? This would be the third one in the past couple of days. He made a mental note to try and find some sort of spell that would turn anyone who broke into his common room into a leper. He smiled at the thought. Grabbing his wand, he opened his door as quietly as he could.

Who would he find out there? Pansy, or Dumbledore? Or perhaps, somebody completely different? Maybe Potter had decided to join in. Maybe he was coming to claim Hermione's belongings in the middle of the night, as to avoid any sort of confrontation with Draco.

"Lumos," he mumbled. His wand obediently lit up at his request.

"Who's in here?" he called out. "Who dares awaken me from my slumber? Who -"

Draco's voice trailed off as he neared the center of the common room. The light of his wand exposed a girl crouched down on the floor, her back to him. He could tell even from the back that she wasn't Pansy. Or Dumbledore.

"Who…who are you?" he asked, taking a few steps closer to her.

The girl remained perfectly still, and Draco had to wonder if she was even alive. His pulse started racing. What the hell was going on?

"Answer me," he demanded. "I said, who are you, and why are you -"

Draco was cut short when the girl in front of him slowly turned her head to look at him.

His eyes immediately widened, and he dropped his wand to the floor. He stumbled back a few steps. "What the…"

The girl on the floor in front of him…the one looking confused and a bit frightened…he knew her. He knew her damn well. And even before he could see her entire face in the dimly lit room, he knew it was her.

Slowly, he closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief. "Hermione?"