A light rain was falling outside the Gryffindor tower when Hermione awoke that morning. The dampness beyond the walls could not penetrate the dorm room though. A warm fire was blazing gaily away a few feet from Hermione's bed; the reddish light outlining her face as she began to wake, she never closed her curtains when she slept. Hermione opened her eyes and gazed up at the canopy of her four-poster, content for the moment to lie quietly and revel in her solitude. It was nice to have one place that was safe for her; one place where she could stop and think without being bothered by Ron or Harry, one place where she could hide from the penetrating looks that Draco would watch her with. In fact, Hermione's dorm room had become her one sanctuary from the outside. It was the one place where she could hide under red and gold quilts and pretend that the whole school wasn't whispering about her as she passed.
It seemed that what had been a rather well kept secret was suddenly the most interesting subject in the entire school. Not to say that no one knew of Hermione being assigned to work with Draco. That had been acceptable to most people, especially those that knew Hermione and understood her absolute devotion to her schoolwork. But, as if overnight, Hogwarts seemed to have sat up and taken notice that not only was Hermione working with Draco Malfoy more often than one would think, but she also seemed to enjoy it. And the Slytherin in question didn't seem too perturbed about the arrangement either.
Those close to her had known that there was something more than class work going on with Malfoy. There had been several opinions amongst her friends as to what was happening with Draco, the most prevalent belief followed more or less along with a statement of Ron's.
"She's gone bloody daft!"
Hermione knew that he meant well. And she knew that Harry and Ron were only trying to protect her. But Hermione had always liked being an only child; she certainly didn't need any over-protective brothers.
It had seemed that her friends had decided that whatever shame Hermione was bringing upon herself by being with Draco, it was something that should be kept to themselves. Everyone seemed fairly content to ignore her strange behavior and odd acceptance of Draco. The school had continued on unaware of the pair sequestered in their room off the library.
That had all changed, of course, when Draco had confronted her outside of Transfiguration the day before. Nothing had been said that could implicate either of them. But people who had watched didn't need solid proof; they had all heard the anger and desperation in Draco's normally sardonically calm voice. But more surprising than that was Hermione's own acceptance of his demands.
Rumors had begun immediately. How long had they been on speaking terms? Why hadn't Hermione hexed him yet? Why was Draco tolerating a mudblood in his presence? Were they friends? Were they more than friends? There was very little excitement occurring at Hogwarts this year, no triwizard tournament, no petrified students, and no escaped convicts. So this little bit of gossip about a possible budding relationship between a Gryffindor and a Slytherin spread through the halls like wild fire. Hermione didn't think she'd been this embarrassed since the time in her first year when she lost all those house points.
She snuggled deeper in her blanket and closed her eyes again. She never wanted to leave this room again.
"Hermione? Are you awake?" An all too close voice whispered.
Hermione opened her eyes and glanced to one side to find Parvarti and Lavender sitting on a neighboring bed. Something about the way that they were eyeing her speculatively made her groan inwardly.
"Hermione, we're so glad that you're awake, we wanted to speak to you. A girl to girl talk, you know?" Lavender said smiling a smile that Hermione didn't like.
