Isolation dramione pdf download

She peaked through the gaps of the bookcases, searching for a glimpse of something out of place. All the shadows mingled into one mass of almost-black, so she concentrated on the sounds. Whoever it was still lingered by the door, but was slowly making their way further into the library. Her hand tightened around her wand. You really shouldn't be out this late, even if you are Head Girl. Why would McGonagall need her at two in the morning? They were all so tired. Plus, you look very tired, Sir. Are you sleeping okay, Miss Granger?

Draco was sat in an oversized chair, grinding his teeth and chewing his tongue. The two professors were bickering in front of him, and it had taken every bit of self-control not scream at the pair. If McGonagall wasn't clutching her wand defensively, he would have probably hexed them by now, or at least cast a few silencing charms to block out there scratching tones.

Always hiding Draco's eyes shot up at those words, and he analysed the man he had once trusted with wary scepticism. It felt odd and degrading to be defended by someone he now despised. The Malfoy heir felt his jaw slacken. The inevitable questions flooded his brain too quickly, and he hissed the air through his teeth. The old oaf had taken an interest in him?

Had wanted to keep him away from the dark path? And Snape knew this? Just more secrets; more splinters into his brain. Snape made a small sound of agreement. He needs a place away from the Dark Lord. The old witch tensed her lips and moved her wise stare to study the youngest inhabitant of the room.

Draco tried to hold the exchange but found himself glaring down at his lap, his lids heavy with fatigue. He'd been unable to manage a decent night's sleep since the night of June 1st, four days before his seventeenth birthday. Call it the cold that had crept in through the cracks of their hideout, or the painful hunger pangs that he'd suffered for five months, or perhaps even the flimsy remains of his conscience.

But I have my terms, Mr Malfoy, and if any of them are broken, you will be on your own. Draco slowly raised his eyes to regard the woman with an agitated look. Who was she to lay down a list of rules? Like she was doing him a favour. He didn't want to be here. He didn't need her bloody help. She could stick it up her-. He snorted. You are to remain unseen and I'm sure you wouldn't be welcomed back by the other students anyway.

Draco rubbed his chin and looked at Snape, who was watching him with that familiar impatient stare. He wanted to tell them both to fuck off; to mind their own business, but he knew this offer wasn't optional.

He reminded himself again that he had nowhere to go. So that was it. Another place he wasn't allowed to leave. Another sanity-draining prison.

Merlin, help him to save his mind. Draco released a humourless bark of laughter and shook his head. He narrowed his glare and tuned to Snape with an expression of sheer disgust.

He felt the urge to challenge the witch rise in his throat, tickling his tonsils, but he was so exhausted. Hogwarts was so much warmer than the shed, and the warmth was like a sedative. The plush chair was absorbing him, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. The smell of food lingered in the air too, and it was doing betraying things to his empty stomach. It wasn't an offer she was giving him, and everybody in the room knew it.

It was an ultimatum. Stay with the enemy or risk death. The will to live only just beat his pride. Fine, let them feed him and provide an ancient roof over his head. His parents would be looking for him. His father would convince the Dark Lord to overlook his His eyes fell into his lap again. The simple answer was no. No, he didn't have a bloody thing to call his own. Just the multi-scourgified and battered clothes he'd been wearing since that night, and a set of robes that Snape had given him.

He was stripped of all the tokens of wealth; the symbols that represented his infamous heritage, and he hated it. Draco's golden eyebrows rose high on his pale forehead. Not yet? The woman was digging his grave faster than Voldemort. She dragged her anxiety-nibbled fingertips over the old bricks as she shuffled her feet down the corridor, her other hand clutching her glowing wand to guide her way. She'd figured out why McGonagall had summoned her now.

There was only one possibility. Someone had died. Or been hurt. Perhaps Harry and Ron's plans had been discovered. Maybe the school was under another threat.

Or Voldemort could have found the Order's headquarters. She mourned her optimism; wished it hadn't been stolen by Astronomy Tower's dark memory and the absence of her best her sad thoughts of that night were stolen when McGonagall's distorted voice rattled down the passage, and just as the echoes subsided, another voice joined her.

A man's voice. Her grip on her wand tightened and she picked up her pace, the smacks of her footsteps loud amongst the acoustics. She couldn't discern specific words or even if there was perhaps a third voice vibrating along the walls now. With a twitch of her wrist and the password whispered again under her breath, the thick door slammed open.

Error rating book. Refresh and try again. Open Preview See a Problem? Details if other :. Thanks for telling us about the problem. Return to Book Page. Preview — Isolation by Bex-chan. Isolation by Bex-chan. He can't leave the room. Her room. And it's all the Order's fault. Confined to a small space with only the Mudblood for company, something's going to give.

Maybe his sanity. Maybe not. Post Half-Blood Prince. Ron and Harry are Horcrux hunting and Hermione has been left at Hogwarts to help the Order make it sa He can't leave the room.

Ron and Harry are Horcrux hunting and Hermione has been left at Hogwarts to help the Order make it safe for the other students. Draco is forced by Snape to stay in Hogwarts for his own protection, but he can't leave the room he is given; Granger's room. Hermione is the only student trusted with this information, so she and Malfoy share the small space, and Draco tries to avoid insanity as he becomes increasingly isolated with only the Mudblood for company.

Something's going to give Get A Copy. Published April 5th first published September 2nd More Details Original Title. Other Editions 3. Friend Reviews. To see what your friends thought of this book, please sign up. To ask other readers questions about Isolation , please sign up. Does anyone know whether Bex-chan ever got to write the epilogue for this?

She mentioned in fanfic. Kevin Franc She did recently write an epilogue, and writing a new fic too!! Does anyone know where I could read this book, fanfiction I mean. See all 6 questions about Isolation…. Lists with This Book. Community Reviews. Showing Average rating 4. Rating details. More filters. Sort order. Start your review of Isolation. Jun 30, Noodar Yasmeen rated it it was amazing Shelves: harry-potter , love-it , read-online , school , unforgettable , fanfiction , 5-star , all-time-favourites , amazing , made-me-cry.

Fucking hell. Isolation was a recommendation from my sis and I was quite eager to read it after she told me about a few scenes. She told me to read it during my exams, but I started it after my exams were finished. Best fucking decision I ever made.

Isolation was just I can't even express into words what Isolation made me feel. It was just That would be the understatement of the year. I wasn't really into Dramione or Harry Potter fo Fucking hell. I wasn't really into Dramione or Harry Potter for that matter shocker? This is the first Dramione that I've ever read and I am pretty sure that now I'm going to have very high expectations for every other Dramione that I read.

It crept me out, wait, scratch that, it STILL creeps me out how freakishly perfect each and every song recommendation was for each. It was as if she had listened to the songs and then written the chapters. And I still get teary-eyed when I listen to Come Home.

When I was in some chapter between 30 and 40, I just went to wattpad to read a story that I had been reading of one of my favourite wattpad authors and frankly, it just sucked.

I never compare wattpad and ff. No offense to them. But this story was going quite well, but after reading Isolation, all the other stories I read just felt I am in a book hangover right now. They are all WAY too fluffy! I am also seriously considering changing all the ratings of the books I've read cause they are nothing compared to this book.

Cause, oh my gosh Draco…. And I was never bored throughout the story. Not even during the filler chapters. I loved each and every freakin chapter so much!! And this was the first ever story which made me cry. I was teary-eyed during loads of parts but I really cried when Theo died. I had to stop reading for a few minutes. I have never ever cried for any book not even for tfios seriously that isn't even that good!

Gosh, that sounds so dramatic. If possible, my love for it has increased. Oh and I cried. View all 10 comments. Jun 23, Bonnie rated it it was amazing Shelves: fantasy , romance-fantasy. Never have I read a 1, page book faster.

View all 4 comments. Jul 07, the burning dreamer. Almost as good as even The Fallout. View all 19 comments. May 11, Grey rated it it was amazing Shelves: fanfiction , all-time-favorites , hot-and-steamy , scifi-or-fantasy , bully-book , enemies-to-lovers , read-in , high-school-or-college , 5-stars. This should be canon for Harry Potter.

Okay, I know, I need to breathe and be careful, because those are big words. Huge words. I know these characters belong to J. Yep, I said it out loud. I'll say it louder for the people in the back, I'm a die-hard Dramione fan! Bad boy A couple week THIS! A couple weeks ago after a conversation with a friend of mine that lives in a different part of the country, we decided that together we would undertake this over page saga, her for the first time It was probably the most fun I've had co-reading that I can ever remember.

We would send our favorite quotes back and forth along with our reactions To feel so vulnerable and empowered at the same time, and when the mind is somewhere between serenity and insanity, it means love's to blame. I could quote a million more There is so much feeling associated with this, I can't possibly do justice to the wonder that is Isolation.

I'd put together a Spotify playlist in advance, jumping through the author's notes and adding a few of my own musical inspirations, because you all know how my brain works. Music feeds my soul and gah, I have to say Listen as you read And I'm of the opinion that this book is phenomenal.

Yep, phenomenal. That said, I haven't had a playlist affect me like this since Heartbreak Warfare. Search it up on Spotify, if you're interested. I don't believe in spoilers, I just don't. So what I will tell you is that the author is so incredibly compassionate, so careful, so inspired and friggin' amazing with her spin on the HP world. I wish this had been the way the ending had played out. It is not all rainbows and kittens here, kids. The issues are sometimes dark I would I so would.

A place in my all-time favorites list as well. This book, while in reality just a "fan-fiction", transcended a level of storytelling that few authors have been able to pierce for me. The glass ceiling that is all-encompassing, hitting on all my emotions as it kept me firmly in the camp of-just one more chapter, please-through the whole thing. Just a fan-fiction, my fanny I'd be delighted to read anything this insanely talented person wrote, and if they need an editor, maybe we can strike a deal, LOL!

Jan 24, Pauline Fireheart rated it it was amazing Shelves: dramione. My love for Draco and Theo knows no limits. This is the second best Dramione fanfic out there and it hits me right in the feels. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of being unhappy, but doing nothing to try and be ha-happy. I'm sick of crying out for help and then rejecting anyone who t-tries to help me. I'm sick of w-wanting things and My love for Draco and Theo knows no limits. I'm sick of w-wanting things and doing nothing to get them.

I'm sick of feeling dis-disappointed, and I'm sick of being a disappointment. I'm sick of not feeling passionate, or excited, or f-fucking anything about anything. I'm sick of being angry, and af-afraid, and sad. I'm sick of pretending that I'm okay. I'm sick of pretending that I un-understand. I'm just s-sick of it all, because all of it's nothing.

And it's my fault it's nothing. I just sit in my cage and watch you And every now and then, someone will hand me a k-key to unlock my cage, but I never do. Because it's my cage. Even though I detest it, it's mine. And people keep giving me keys, and I keep throwing I'll always throw them away and I don't even know why.

View all 7 comments. Jul 12, Chelsea rated it it was ok Shelves: overrated , way-too-long , aty , Her wand arm straightened with an agitated snap of her elbow, and her bark-brown eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. He blocked her spell effortlessly, and it infuriated her more. The witch's rage was pounding her ears, muffling McGonagall's request for her to relax.

Her magic was throbbing at her fingertips, ready for revenge. She fired a Stupefy, but it was deflected like her last attack. Draco watched the duel silently with his calculating eyes, wondering why Snape was actually participating in it at all. Surely a quick Petrificus would put the meddlesome Mudblood in her place. She hadn't noticed him; hadn't once taken her eyes off the other wizard.

He would bet his family's fortune that spotting him would hardly calm the little tantrum she was having right now. Snape eyed the girl calmly and shot a silent disarming spell in her direction, deciding it was best to end this before it got out of hand.

He cocked an impressed eyebrow when it had no effect, and faltered when another one of her curses made him stumble on his feet. She had been practising. When had she learned silent shielding charms? Her wand flew away from her hand, and her confused and betrayed stare shifted over to the headmistress. She felt charmed ropes coil around her to restrict her movements, and frustrated tears sauntered down her cheeks.

The older witch gave her an apologetic look before she jerked her wand again, and Hermione felt her feet leave the floor before she went flying back into a closet. The door closed behind her with a blunt bang, and she remained frozen in the dark for a stunned moment before she was struggling with everything she had and shouting until her throat felt stripped by bleach. Why was McGonagall doing this? She coughed on an outraged sob and swallowed back the scream caught in her windpipe.

On the other side of the door, Draco sank back into the chair with a roll of his eyes. He watched the pair of professors as they shared a look of scepticism and resisted the compulsion to shake his head or laugh at their stupidity.

How could they honestly be surprised that she had reacted the way she did? He really was surrounded by bloody idiots. And so begins another story I know this chapter was rather short, but I assure you that the rest will be a little longer.

I hope this introduction has been successful with grasping your attention! This fic is basically going to screw with Draco's head.

A lot. And Hermione's for that matter. I'm going to enjoy this I hope you do too! I know the whole 'they share a room' thing has been done but I have yet to find a fic that has one of them confined to the room and slowly losing their mind This will be a little dark with some twists and mature themes and content later on.

Also, explicit language throughout For everyone who read my last fic Hunted,I just want to thank you all for showing an interest and hope that this fic gains as much positive feedback from you lovely people!

Fingers crossed, hey! I promise you more wine-induced chapters and, hopefully, quick updates! Read and Review please! Love to know your thoughts! Thanks a bunch-. Not because he was bothered about upsetting the wrinkly wench; he really didn't give a shit. No, it was that she had called him a failure. And the truth hurt. In the last seven years, he couldn't recall one thing that he had managed to successfully achieve.

Not one. And his last cock-up had proved fatal; fatal enough to warrant a death-wish and an indefinite stay in this shithole. The blond growled when he received another harsh slap to the back of his skull. You have my word that I will do everything I can to ensure his safety. You really should go, Severus.

It will be getting light soon. Draco released a disgusted snort that was drowned out by the loud snap of Apparition. He felt his jaw twitch and fought the embers of apprehension that settled in his gut. Snape may have turned out to be a blood traitor, but at least the creepy guy had been bound by a Vow to protect him, whereas as these blood traitors would probably smother him in his sleep.

Another one of Granger's shrill howls ruptured his eardrums, and he turned to McGonagall with a weary and half-shut stare. The Mudblood's screeches had made his painful heartbeats thud against his temple, and the warmth was lulling his lids to fall.

He really wanted some sleep. With an overdue calming breath, the headmistress tugged open the door and frowned when she saw the mess. Hermione's struggles had knocked some of the shelves, and the younger witch had gained a few bruises from some raining books. She paused her thrashing when she noticed McGonagall's presence in the doorframe, her chest heaving against the ropes.

The greying witch angled her wand to levitate Hermione into her office and sighed when her student recommenced her attempts to get free. Draco resisted the taunting words that teased his tongue for the sake of a comfortable night. Granger looked like hell had gargled her and then spat her back out; her chaotic hair swarming around her face like Autumn leaves, and her eyes red-stained with what looked like a sleep-deprived month.

He was glad she was suffering. Glad that somebody else was. She stole six long breaths and swallowed back the anguish wedged in her throat. She still hadn't noticed him. With a moment of hesitation, McGonagall released the spell, and Hermione's feet landed on the floorboards with a small thump. She brushed her palms over the raw lines left by the ropes and studied the older woman like a stranger. She coughed away a confused sob and took a wary step towards the centre of the room, oblivious that she'd moved closer to Malfoy.

Not even Mr Potter or Mr Weasley. Hermione shifted her weight and pursed her lips, analysing the situation in her head. McGonagall's words did not bode well with her; she told Harry and Ron everything, and her professor's odd behaviour in the last few minutes had completely baffled her. Her fawny eyes darted away, needing to focus on something else, and that's when she saw him. She didn't remember sprinting over to him, everything was blurry and fast.

When she was close enough, she drew back her balled fist and rammed into his face, hard enough to scorch her knuckles. She felt a feral growl vibrate in her throat, and drew her fist back again, the blood slithering down his chin and across her fingers no where near satisfying enough.

She wanted to pound his face until it was unrecognisable, until it stopped reminding her of what he'd done. She fought the magic so hard her limbs burned, but it wouldn't give. There were no tears now; just a rage that simmered and practically caused the girl to glow. He was thumbing away the trickle of blood that was leaking from his lip with an expression that was far too aloof for her to handle.

He caught her eyes again, and her hatred was blinding. He was slimmer than she recalled, and he looked a little worn, but everything else about him was exactly how she remembered. The creamy hair, the china skin, the rain-cloud eyes.

It was awful, and she roared with outrage. How the fuck could you do this to-. No there's no way-. She twisted her neck so she could look at Malfoy again, and she felt bile singe the back of her tongue. She felt sick. They-they killed Dumbledore-. Help yourself to some food and I will call you when. A retort lingered behind his teeth but a spasm in his stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten in the last twenty-four hours.

His curiosity was loud, but the rumbles of starvation were louder. He slowly rose from his seat and gave both the witches a bored look before he headed to the kitchen, muttering a vibrant list of obscenities under his breath. McGonagall turned back to Hermione once they were alone and tilted her head thoughtfully. With a confused and pathetic sob, she nodded her head and felt her arms and legs regain control. She wiped away the evidence of her weakness on her sleeve and observed the witch she looked up to with wild and desperate eyes.

He killed-. He wanted to save him-. It was hard to defend someone who had put so many lives in danger all before his seventeenth birthday. No one else knows and I intend to keep it that way-. The female fraction of the Golden Trio felt something in her chest drop. None of this made sense, and yet everything seemed to slide into place in her head. She would swear to Merlin's grave that every second of this haunting night was draining away her energy.

There was just too much too handle; too much to take in. A spy. Dumbledore had known And then a troubling thought popped into her head. He's evil-. You have a spare room-. I need you to do this-. If things are really that bad then I will do my best to make other arrangements, but I honestly believe that you can do this.

She wanted to protest; to tell McGonagall to let Malfoy rot in the grave he had dug himself. She wanted to point out that he would probably try to kill her in her sleep, or that she wouldn't last a day without hexing the twat until he was a pointless mess smeared against her wall. But images of Dumbledore fluttered in her brain.

McGonagall's face instantly relaxed. Hermione released a loud and lonely breath. McGonagall gave the girl's shoulder a reassuring pat before she headed to her kitchen and pushed open the door. The urge to scream at him until his ears wept blood swamped her, but she shoved it aside. Something twigged in her head, and she realised then that she had a massive advantage over him.

She had her wand. She was in control. He hid his irritation with an amused snort as he slowly wiped the back on his hand across his mouth again, keeping his stare locked onto hers. He realised then that her eyes weren't brown; they were more like gold. How repulsively Gryffindor. So, the little Mudblood thought she was in charge did she?

His smirk stretched a little. Fine, let her believe that; at least he would have a little entertainment if he was going to be locked away in her room. Don't wind me up-. She held her ground and cringed when she realised his breath smelled of the blood she had coaxed with her fist.

You are nothing. And now you're stuck here; forced to accept our help like some pathetic child. 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. 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. I'd like to go to bed. 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. 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. 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. Draco combed his fingers through his damp hair and fiddled with the hem of the towel.

He couldn't begin to describe how good it felt to have a decent shower; to feel clean again. His eyes roamed the bedroom and noted the Gryffindor colours with a repulsed grumble that simmered against his tongue. And this was where he would be staying; amongst the gold and red mess.

He heard a distant noise and realised it must have been Granger shifting in her sleep. He could hear that? He discarded the towel and opted for sleeping in the nude, deciding blemishing his freshly-cleaned skin with his scruffy clothes would just irritate him.

His eyes fell to the Dark Mark staining his ashen flesh, and he traced the outline with the tip of his finger; scowling into the darkness before he fell back into the inviting fabrics and stared up at the ceiling. The sky had turned a nasty shade of indigo when he finally managed steal that elusive slumber that he'd been craving for weeks. Aw crap Needed to end it there though I promise the upcoming chapters will be bloody longer!

I see a lot of familiar names and I just want to thank you so much for giving this fic a chance! Reached reviews for Hunted and that's just It's going to be quite similar to Hunted in that the relationship is going to be slow And I'm working with Draco's prejudices this time too!

I'm a couple of chapters ahead on this because I'm going back to Uni soon and I wanted to keep my quick-update halo in place! As for the wine Hope you enjoyed this chapter If anyone has any questions you;re welcome to ask in review or mail my fanfic FB profile link on profile page. See the end of the chapter for more notes. Her eyes snapped open and went wide, darting nervously around her room. She sucked in a short gasp and covered her face with her palms; blinking away her sleep and gulping back her dry throat.

She felt disorientated and muddled, like an imp had skipped through the caverns of her mind and fiddled with her thoughts. She rubbed away the cold sweat on her forehead and sat up, looking around her room and ensuring that everything was where it should be. She couldn't for the life of her decide if last night had been a trick of her subconscious or if everything had been real. Perhaps there'd been no Snape. No Malfoy. No secret.

Maybe she was still the sole inhabitant of her dorm. Her tired gaze fell to the rope burns on her arms and she exhaled a disappointed sigh. She'd wanted so bad for it to be a dream; so willing to delude herself. Call it the brain's defence mechanisms or call it hope. Hell, call it whatever you wanted; the fact of the matter was, it hadn't been a nightmare. It made her feel sick. She could actually feel the contents of her stomach churn as she contemplated just how close he was.

Just her small bathroom between them. Just two walls. She glanced at her clock and wanted to scream when she realised she'd only managed three hours sleep.

Hermione had honestly thought that she would have managed to gain a little more rest considering how exhausted she'd been. But no. Evidently, her insomnia was here to stay. It was pushing nine in the already miserable morning, and she could already hear the usual raindrops tapping against her window. She knew that it was futile to try and get any more sleep, so she slowly eased herself out of bed, grabbed her bathrobe and wand, and headed for the shower.

Keeping as quiet as she could, she peered out of her bedroom warily, catching sight of Malfoy's discarded and scuffed shoes. The remains of her optimism fluttered away with that final damning observation, and she quickly slipped into the bathroom.

Shrugging off yesterday's clothes, she muttered a quick spell to flick on the shower at a high heat. The witch turned to look at herself in the mirror, brushing her knotted curls away from her face and fingering the shadowy crescents under her eyes. There was too much torture on her face, and it was tucked into the creases of her permanent frown. She looked like a tracing-paper version of herself; paler and almost translucent. Like frosted glass. She focussed on her eyes and thanked Merlin when she saw the familiar glint in them, the spark of fire and determination that had always lingered; that had yet to be beaten.

The mirror started to steam so she turned away from her worrying reflection and released a content moan as the steamy water soothed her shape.

She closed her eyes and massaged the soap into her skin, inhaling the vanilla scent with a calming breath. She lathered her arms first, then her shapely chest and flat stomach, and then bent down to stroke the length of her legs. This felt good. Like normality, and she basked in the sensations. She could feel her muscles easing and it was wonderful, relaxing enough that she allowed her ever-crowded mind to cease thinking, if only to shield the memories of last night.

If only to forget that someone she despised was sharing her dorm. A Death Eater. It took a bit more soap, but she let it all go and allowed herself to escape, because she knew it would only get harder from here. Draco lifted one heavy lid when a feminine moan seeped into the room. The whispers of running water had started to stir him a few moments ago, but it was the strange sighs and mews that woke him completely. His brow furrowed when he didn't recognise his surroundings, and he raised his head to eye the room suspiciously.

He remembered then. He remembered that he was in Hogwarts. Remembered he was sharing a dorm with the Mudblood. He gnashed his teeth and his eyes went to the window. Draco knew it wouldn't work, but he tried anyway; flinging himself off the bed and and trying to shove it open.

The clasp wouldn't budge. He drew back his fist and smashed it into the glass as hard as he could, but it didn't even crack.

He growled as a small trickle of blood slithered across his knuckles. It hurt, but he'd had so much worse. Another female purr leaked into the air and he instinctively reached for his wand to silence the irritating sounds. But, he didn't have his wand, did he. Didn't have a bloody thing. Not even a set of clean clothes to put on. He hadn't had enough rest; his movements were sluggish and his sight blurry.

He had five months of sleep to catch up on after all, and it would have been so easy if her incessant shower noises weren't polluting his atmosphere. He snatched the pillow and covered his ears, but it only muffled her. If even for just a moment.

The blessed aroma of Hogwart's food filled his senses and his stomach suddenly growled in anticipation. The candles floating above him seemed to relax his rigid frame A word that had not had any meaning to him in a long time.

After McGonagall gave her speech the food magically appeared in front of him. He began eating, almost against his will. He had not eaten a real meal in so long, the taste was foreign yet familiar all at once. He was thankful to be back, but that happiness didn't last long. He slowly looked up to see the redhead in front of him.

Ronald Weasely. Of course he would pick a fight on the first day back. Draco's eyes suddenly flickered to the owner of the feminine voice. Hermione was making a B-line for him and when she arrived she spoke with fury. This is not how I planned our first meal back going! Draco could also make out something to the regards of "You bloody idiot!

Harry Potter was pinching the bridge of his nose when the duo sat down again. Draco could no longer hear what was being said but Granger was still feisty as ever in his opinion. After she was done scolding the redhead she looked over to Draco Malfoy. The Slytherin looked very depressed all alone at the end of the table. But suddenly, it was cold ice against warm brown.

He had looked up and caught her gaze.