7

* * * October 3, 1997 * * *

Granger launched out of her room. "What was that?"

"Nothing. My books." Draco swept his hand over them, scattered across one of the coffee tables in their common room. "Chill, Granger," he snarled.

She scoffed. "I heard a crash and wanted to make sure things were okay. That's what we're supposed to do; I don't need to 'chill.'"

He watched her spin on her heel and flounce back to her room. Control freak, he thought. I can't fart without her running out to sniff it. But he knew he was just being petty; she wasn't all that bad as "roommates" went. Mother was far worse, and besides, he really had thrown the books down. He'd been in a lousy mood all day.

The patrol schedule was turning into an enormous pain in the arse. He'd started it four days ago and it still wasn't finished. Peope were requesting all kinds of substitutions for one bullshit reason after another, and he'd made the mistake of accomodating the first few people who'd asked. Now he was stuck juggling everyone's exam schedules, Quidditch practices, Astronomy labs. He was beginning to feel like a human Sorting Hat. And on top of it all, Granger now had the nightly Patrol duty, which meant he was stuck in the common room pretty much after dinner.

Draco hadn't visited Slytherin House in nearly two weeks. He absolutely refused to have anything to do with Pansy. She'd crossed a line, she and her roommate. It still made the bile rise in his throat every time he thought about it. Polyjuice! What if he'd knocked her up? What if she'd deliberately "substituted" for Pansy in order to get knocked up? Draco was open-minded about sex and acknowledged that Polyjuice Potion had its uses between consenting partners, but this was downright predatory.

He would have reported it to his Head of House, but then he'd have to confess about Blaise's Eavesdropping Charm, and it would just get ugly. For the same reason, he couldn't confront Pansy either. Far too furious to carry on as usual, and unable to think of a suitable excuse for hexing Pansy and Bulstrode back into the Middle Ages, Draco felt the only solution was to stay as far away from the dungeons as possible. He hung out with Blaise and Theo Knott as usual during the school day, but once evening rolled around and people began to scatter hither and yon for homework or studying, Draco generally found himself alone.

Alone in his own common room. Draco sank into the nearest couch with a sigh. This was just all fucked up. How many times over the years had he wished for a private room at Hogwarts? How many times had he wanted to host some shindig or another, like his parents did at the Manor? Now he had both a room of his own and a lovely parlor all set up for socializing--and thanks to Granger, he couldn't enjoy either of them.

Settling into the tub for his evening bath, it occurred to Draco that, since Granger was the cause of his troubles, she could conceivably be part of the solution.

* * *

Draco went to Zonko's Joke Shop in Hogsmeade the next morning and placed a special order. It took over a week to arrive, but Zonko's had finally Owled him that morning. Despite his busy schedule, he'd managed to pick it up before closing time (though he'd had to Apparate from just outside the Hogwarts gates in order to make it). Now he was soaking comfortably in the white marble tub, and he'd already prepared a glass of water with a single drop of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes' Hasty Retreat Potion. Now he only needed Granger to return from patrolling the corridors.

When the portrait hole closed with its characteristic click, he splashed the solution onto the wall behind the tub and Noxed all the candles. The charm didn't work the first time he tried it, but he'd paid close attention to Blaise and was confident he could cast it properly. On his fourth attempt, he rolled his wrist at the end, and to his delight, the wall began to shimmer.

She was still taking off her shoes. Draco wriggled back against the wall of the tub and stretched out his legs. Let the entertainment begin!

She took off her cloak and hung it neatly on a hanger, then did the same with her robes. Draco scowled. Hadn't she ever heard of house-elves? Who in their right mind hung up their own clothes at Hogwarts? He reckoned she would probably sit at her desk and study something, she being Granger, after all, but to his delight, she immediately began tugging at the knot in her tie.

"That's right, Granger," he whispered, smiling. "Time for bed."

The tie came off, and once again she smoothed it carefully and hung it from a clip in her wardrobe. But Draco didn't mind her silly affectation, for he suddenly realized that she was not only going to strip for him, she was going to do it slowly.

Draco had several lovers (indeed, one more than he had originally reckoned!), but all of these encounters had been under rather clandestine circumstances. Every time, the need to complete the "main act" before discovery by a parent, roommate, or passerby invariably forced him to rush through the preliminaries, and Draco, being a methodical and thorough sort, had always felt a little cheated. Not that he would trade what he did get (even if he could), but this was something new--something he'd been looking forward to.

She had her back to him now, standing before the open armoire unbuttoning her blouse. She stopped to pull the shirttail out of her skirt. Another button, then another, and the fabric parted to either side. She set to work on the cuffs. Draco placed his hand upon his throat without realizing it, letting it slide in teasing circles over his chest and belly as her blouse fell away.

She caught the blouse with one hand and, with a practiced motion, tossed it into a basket beside her bed. Her back still turned toward him, she reached around to unclasp her bra, a dainty white thing with no frills that nonetheless greatly intrigued him. It followed the blouse into the basket, and without further ado, the girl picked up a blue nightdress from a shelf in the wardrobe and spun round to face him.

Draco clenched his teeth onto a moan as she shook out the nightdress and dropped it in a shallow heap on the woodstove. It didn't matter that she had no idea she was being watched, and therefore had no reason to be self-conscious. He was utterly thrilled to watch her undress so deliberately, hurried only by the chill in her room. She took off the skirt and underpants together and stood before him, wriggling a little as she warmed her back before the stove. "Granger," he breathed, pressing the palm of his hand onto his cock, spreading and curling his fingers to cup himself from beneath.

Twisting away to retrieve her warmed nightdress, she pulled it quickly over her head and popped her hands through the gathered sleeves. Draco watched, mesmerized, as she tugged it into place, a little lopsided grin on her face as the flannel warmed her skin. He grinned as well; the nightgown was as frumpy and plain as he would have expected from Granger, yet it had its own intense appeal. Cozy, cuddly, a safe, snug place to rest his head, his hands. He wondered distantly if he could manage to summon her out to their common room while she was wearing it.

The brief pleasure of clamboring into warm pajamas now past, Granger's smile quickly faded and she climbed into bed, her enormous ginger cat glaring reproachfully as she disturbed his slumber. Draco could easily imagine the warm spot left behind by the displaced cat. It would be lovely to climb into an already-toasty bed on a chill night.

The beast waited until she settled down with her book, then stretched contentedly across her belly. It looked up and glared directly at Draco, startling him considerably, but it hardly mattered if it could see through the spell. Or so he hoped, anyway. The glowering stare unsettled him, though, and his arousal ebbed. It was just as well; getting off under water was not particularly to his liking.

Draco pulled the drain from the tub and fumbled for his towel in the darkness, still watching Granger read her book, absently stroking the soft fur of her cat. Its eyelids drooped contentedly, but its gaze never left him, suspicious, defensive. "Get used to it, kitty cat," Draco sneered in a whisper as he dried himself. "As long as I'm stuck in here, I'm going to enjoy the show."