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Something flickered in his eyes; something between shame and spite. That look ignited a small and fickle flame in her stomach that made her feel powerful; cocky. It didn't last long, just enough to inject a little more boldness into her backbone.

"I hope this is killing you," she whispered with harsh honesty. "I hope that this is tearing you apart-

"Fuck off, Mud-

"That's enough," McGonagall interrupted, and he arched an eyebrow when she aimed her wand at him. "Let's go, Mr Malfoy. It's late."

His eyes flickered between the old bint and her wand. He could honestly say that he'd never planned to attempt a runner on the way to Granger's dorm. There would be no point with two armed witches watching him like he was an overfed cauldron; volatile and hazardous. He rolled his eyes at her and started to follow Granger out of the room, McGonagall behind him keeping her wand trained on the back of his neck.

The walk was silent, and the two witches glanced nervously around constantly to ensure the corridors were empty of wandering souls. They were, of course, and the three sets of footfalls mingled with the tittering echoes of rain. Draco eyed the back of Granger's head as they walked, noting the strained muscles in her shoulders and the too-tight grip on her wand. At least she wasn't waving it in his face though, unlike a certain headmistress who found it necessary to prod his spine every few steps.

The younger witch quickened her steps a little to pull aside a set of heavy drapes and reveal a portrait of a pride of lions, purring and basking in their painted sunlight. He didn't hear the password Granger muttered, but then he probably wasn't supposed to.

She disappeared inside and he barged in after her, as though he already owned the room. He took a slow and revolted look around the sitting room and Hermione watched him closely as he heeled away his shoes and headed towards the bathroom, shoving his way past her with more force than necessary. She was about to shout after him, but he simply slammed the toilet door behind him with a shuddering smack that made her flinch.

"Wanker," she hissed under her breath, twisting her neck to give McGonagall a weary look. "Will setting up the wards take long? I'd like to go to bed."

"Just a few minutes," the professor assured her, twitching her wrist and gliding her wand around the door.

The complicated incantation sounded more like lullaby to Hermione, and her lids felt like stone. She heard the shower turn on, and the running water hummed alongside McGonagall's words. She was so exhausted, and the night had done damaging things to her mind. She just wanted to lie down in a dark room and accept the dreams; the nightmares. She snapped out of her trance when the headmistress moved into her vision, her mouth moving with unheard words.

"Sorry?"

"I'm finished," McGonagall told her softly, her face grim. "I must remind you again, Miss Granger, that this has to remain between us."

"I know," she replied.

And she really did know. She had become too acquainted with secrets in the last six years, and most had taken their toll, but she knew instantly that this one would haunt her the most. For the sole reason that she couldn't tell Harry and Ron; this one would stretch the limits of her tolerance. She rolled the word secret over in her head, and noticed it even sounded harsh; like a snake's hiss.

"Do I need to remind you to keep a close eye on your wand?"

"I always do," the brunette sighed, and the other woman mirrored her unease.

"I know this will be hard for you," McGonagall admitted. "But you have yet to disappoint me, Hermione."

She watched the older witch disappear from the room and suddenly felt ridiculously claustrophobic. She turned her head to eye the bathroom door and chewed her lip nervously. Clawing her agitated fingers through her mussed hair, she dragged her feet to her bedroom, keeping her anxious eyes on the bathroom door until she mumbled her password, Lutra lutra, and ducked inside.

She didn't bother shedding her clothes, just collapsed with an ungraceful fall onto her bed and cocooned herself amongst the sheets and blankets. She glanced out of her window and the sky was still black, but then winter had that effect on the colours and moods of the mornings. The distant calls of early birds were the give away, and a quick look at her clock confirmed that it was almost four in the morning.

She thanked Merlin that it was Friday and that she had no classes tomorrow, although she wondered if she really should be thanking anything or anyone considering the events of tonight.

The trickling droplets of Malfoy's wash were loud and clear in her room, and served as a taunting reminder to her new and unwelcome roommate. Her temple was throbbing with the beginnings of a stress-induced headache, and she knew that despite her fatigue, she would have a hard time finding sleep.

Half an hour passed before the water died, and she could hear Malfoy's crass movements as he headed into his own room. She groaned into her pillow when those sounds carried too; skimming across the bathroom tiles and leaking through the thin walls. She grabbed her wand to hurriedly mumble a silencing charm on her room, and hoped that it would last until morning.

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