(Author's Note: This was based on a dream I had once, but not all of it. This is my first fanfic so tips would be greatly appreciated. Thanks!)

Winter. It's bitterly cold and bitterly depressing for me, Hermione. Aged sixteen, and longing for some change. Its half past ten and Harry no longer has his invisibility cloak. I grin to myself, thinking about how the girls can sneak into the boys' dormitories, but not vice versa. He won't mind anyway. Well, he won't be surprised, when he finds the note; 'Harry, gone to read up on "Hogwarts: A History". I've taken your cloak. Hermione.'

I bet he'll probably be scanning around for his glasses anyway, reading that Potions book. Again. I don't trust it, I really don't, but that's not the point. I'm sitting in the library under the cloak, reading, but the words are just sitting there, bored as I am. They don't fill me with knowledge and happiness, the usual weird high I get from learning. They just stare at me. 'What're you looking at us for?' they challenge.

"Oh shut up." I whisper.

"Why are you up at this time anyway? It's freezing. You should be in bed, if not asleep."

"I can do what I want!" I hiss.

"Oh, a rebel are we?"

"Shut up!"

Only then did it occur to me that I was arguing with an inanimate object. Clearly I was going insane. I needed sleep, and I needed it now. I slowly closed the book, and stuffed it into a corner, treading lightly out of the library, my school shoes making the loudest noise.

It took me longer than usual to find my way to bed. I wandered aimlessly around, feeling very lonely. "I wish I had a boyfriend." I mused. "It would mean I'd have someone to laugh with, someone to hold me…hell, I'd even go for an affair if anyone was interested in me!"

Eventually I was just walking in circles, thinking 'I just want somewhere to sleep…' and I paused after a while, shuddering at the harsh wind biting at my flesh. I stumbled through a pair of dark doors into the gloom, seeing only a double bed and a warm, crackling fire. That's all I'd focus on, getting some sleep and keeping warm.

But nobody can miss that flash of white-blond hair. I was furious. "Malfoy!"

He spun around, looking startled, until I realised I was still wearing the cloak. I decided to keep it on for some entertainment.

Was it just me, or did his eyes look really mysterious?

"Draco Malfoy…" I said softly. He stood still. I carried on. "Tell me why you are here."

"Why should I?" he said stubbornly. Hm. Not going to give up easily, then. I slid my shoes off, and clutched them in one hand, treading in my socks. "Because if you don't….you will suffer the consequences."

Well, it was payback wasn't it? For all those times…

"Define 'consequences'." He said cleverly.

Damn.

"Er…"

No, ghosts didn't say 'er'!

"What I meant to say is, you will suffer a fate worse than death. Tell me why you are here!" I commanded him.

"Only if you tell me first, mudblood."

It was my turn to stand stock still. I'd been quite clever in throwing my voice, but Dra—Malfoy was not completely stupid.

"Borrowed Potter's cloak, have you?" he said in a scathing tone. I seized the folds and then tried to edge towards the door. As if reading my mind, he ordered me, "Don't even think about moving."

Walking towards the door, he tried to open the double doors-presumably to kick me out-and they wouldn't shift. Puzzled, he tugged and twisted. "They've locked."

I let the cloak slide to the floor and tried the standard charm, but it was no use. I yanked and twisted but nothing happened. "We can't be stuck in here!" I said frantically. I glared at Malfoy. "Have you cursed it or something?"

"I'm hardly about to lock the door so I can be in a room with you all night, mudblood." He sneered.

"Don't call me mudblood!" I said angrily, swiping at him. Of course, he smartly stepped out of reach and said, "Granger," he took his time to enunciate, "I am aware that you are frustrated right now," he spoke slowly, in a patronising tone, which did little to me, "but we're stuck in here, like it or not, and we'll just have to put up with each other for the night."

"Oh per-lease!" I scoffed. "You're not really going along with this are you? We've got to get out of here."

"Granger," he said slowly, as if I was seven, not seventeen this past September, "The door is locked. This is the Room of Requirement we're talking about here. You can't possibly think a mere spell is going to get us out? I mean…" Malfoy trailed off, and his silver eyes darkened as he muttered angrily, casting his eyes up.

Mistletoe.

"No way!" I said loudly, stepping away, flushing red.

"Granger," he lightened his tone, conceding to the stubborn me, "I know that this is not easy for you at all. But neither is this easy for me."

I just looked away, trying very hard not to think.

Draco ran a hand through his blond hair and tried again. "You might prefer to sleep in your own bed, but until we've figured out the logistics of that, we'll have to have our sleep here.."

"I don't need you to tell me what's going on," I reiterated. "I'm not stupid."

"Could've fooled me." Draco rolled his eyes, then shook his head, whether at me or at the situation, I don't know. "You are a Gryffindor, so clearly you're trying to act brave and all of that nonsense, but the fact is that we're stuck in this Room and well—" he gestured upwards again.

"You can't honestly think that I'm going to kiss you, do you?" I shuddered. Okay, there was a little voice inside of me, but I really did not want to know what it was going to tell me. I'd had enough with that bloody book.

But still, it was bloody inconvenient!

"Oh please, don't give me nightmares." Malfoy muttered.

The silence stretched between us.

Draco decided that he would begin once more. "Granger," he repeated exasperatedly, "We need to discuss about how we're going to go about this."

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the door, silently waiting for Draco to begin the discussion.

Wait…did I just call him 'Draco'? Even if it's just in my head, that can't be good.