When Draco agreed to go on a mission with Hermione, he truly believed they might finally work out their differences & become friends—or at least be on friendly terms.
He was wrong. Evidently, Hermione is as much of a know it all out in the field as she is in the office.
All he’s heard so far is some variation of “Malfoy, that’s not proper procedure!” or “Stop worrying about your hair, Ferret!” For Salazar’s sake, he only checked his hair once.
After a long day of trailing their target, he simply wanted a cold shower and warm bed.
Draco opened the door and walked in, Hermione behind him. They both froze.
“There’s only one bed.” Hermione says.
“I tell you what Sherlock Holmes, you are unbelievable with your detective work.” Draco snaps.
Hermione raises a brow. Rude yes, but a Muggle reference?
“We can’t use magic, so someone is sleeping on the floor. As a proper Pureblood gentleman, it should be you.” Hermione quips.
“Absolutely not. We’re both exhausted. I’m sleeping on the bed, feel free to join or take the floor.” Draco responds.
“I can remain above the covers while you sleep under them, if it makes you more comfortable.” He adds.
Hermione considers this. It’s below freezing outside and their room has no fireplace. He’d be miserable. As annoying as he is, he shouldn’t freeze for her.
“We’re both adults. There’s no reason why we cannot share a bed, both under the blanket. Just stay on your side.”
“As if I’m dying to be closer to you, Granger.” Draco says, rolling his eyes. They take turns showering. Hermione is tucked in bed when Draco finishes.
He returns to the room clad in nothing but black, silk pajama pants. Hermione can’t help but look at his chiseled upper body. Her eyes raze over his toned abs and chest, noting the barely there platinum hairs near his waistband.
“Please Granger, I’m not a piece of meat.”
He sounds annoyed, but there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes. He joins her, under the covers, and turns away from her.
“Goodnight Malfoy.”
“Goodnight Granger.”
Exhaustion takes over before they have a chance to bicker more, and they both fall asleep.
Hermione wakes up feeling warm and content. She considers that this is the best sleep she’s ever had on a mission. Perhaps the bed is more comfortable than usual. That’s her reasoning, at least until he realizes that Malfoy is wrapped around her, his front to her back.
Draco’s arm is draped around her waist. It’s heavy, but feels nice.
Gods, how long has it been since she’a slept next to a male that she thinks Malfoy feels nice?
He’s still asleep. She’s mortified and needs to escape this compromising position before he wakes up.
She maneuvers out from under him, feeling like a true, stealthy Auror—until she falls off the bed and onto the floor.
Draco is out of bed in an instant, wand trained on her, searching for the threat. “Merlin, Granger. You’ve got as much balance as a one-legged troll.”
Blushing furiously, she gets up and asks, “How did you sleep?”
“Quite well, except for the nightmare that I was being suffocated by an owl’s nest.” His smirk tells Hermione all she needs to know—he was awake far earlier than she thought and well aware of their spooning.