I yawned, melting into my mattress, "dream of Ron or something."

Even though it was incredibly late, and we were both incredibly tired, Hermione shot out of her bed and stomped her way over to where I was laying. Her hair was tied into two thick braids, and she looked like she wanted to murder me.

Wouldn't be the first time.

"No, I will not!" She huffed, "I have better things to dream about than that stupid idiot."

I gasped, "I thought you liked that stupid idiot?"

"It's still up for debate," she hissed, her cheeks pink, "and anyways, you still haven't opened your letter."

"I did that four years ago."

"That's not what I—"

"Apparently I'm a wizard."

"Will you stop being impertinent for one single second?" The girl huffed, stalking over towards the door. Bending down, she swiped a thin white envelope up from under the carpet, tossing it across the room and onto my bed. She sighed, "it looks rather important."

I furrowed my brows, reaching over my blankets to pick it up.

As soon as my fingers touched the paper, the flap burst open, and a scented piece of parchment paper flew out of the envelope and into the air. Hermione narrowed her eyes at it, but I was too busy reading what was on the letter to care.

"Who's it from?" Hermione questioned, climbing into her bed, "please tell me Harry didn't waste good ink on a love letter."

I blinked, tucking the letter into my pocket in confusion. Why did Mcgonagall want to see me? And why past curfew? That wasn't very Professor like of her, and it was oddly suspicious.

"Madame Pomfrey," I lied, doing justice to Mcgonagall's request, "Neville needs me to bring him his potions textbook."

Hermione yawned, "make it quick."

"I will."

It was a very unsure promise, because the next ten minutes took incredibly long. I had to stick to the shadows, try not to wake the paintings, and travel halfway across the school to get to the Transfiguration classroom.

When I walked in, Minerva Mcgonagall was sitting at her desk, a quill tucked neatly in her palm as she scratched something down.

I knocked softly on the door.

"Oh, [y/n], please come on in," the woman exclaimed, setting down her writing utensil, "I normally wouldn't condone students being out of bed after hours, but this is a rather important matter."

I bit my lip, "is everything okay, professor?"

There was a brief pause, before she gestured for me to sit down across from here.

"No, no it is not," she sighed, pushing her thin-rimmed spectacles up the bridge of her nose, "I need to discuss two matters with you, one which involves you solely, and the other which might require some help."

"Help?"

"Of a sort. I've brought another student here to assist in the matter."

Like clockwork, the sound of a wand clattering to the floor rang out from the hallway, and a thin shadow came stumbling in. At first they were unrecognizable, but the classroom's firelight soon highlighted the stranger's features.

Well, not a stranger anymore.

Draco was wearing his pajama pants, a rumpled, thin, dark green t-shirt on his shoulders, and a familiar letter in hand. Specifically, one identical to the one I received a few moments earlier. His hair was ruffled messily and he looked tired, but his eyes twinkled when he saw me sitting across the room.

Mcgonagall didn't seem to notice.

"Mr. Malfoy," she said, waving him over, "please take a seat."

He looked different.

In a strangely good way.

Maybe it was because he looked slightly human with his jim jams on, in a domestic sort of way, and I found it sort of....adorable. Could Draco Malfoy ever be adorable?

"You may be wonder why I've called you here, and it is out of concern of the school," the professor paused, turning towards me, "and Mr. Potter as well."

Draco scoffed under his breath once he heard the boy's name. He had already made his way into the mahogany chair beside me by the time I turned my head.

"While we are still figuring out how his name ended up in the goblet of fire, it is impossible for him to leave the tournament," she explained, "since I have been aware of how close you two are, I have called you here to keep an eye on Harry."

"Me?" Draco gasped in offense, "I'm not keeping an eye on Potter, I'm not even in his house."

"Not you, Mr. Malfoy, you're here under different reasons." She turned back to me, letting out a breathy exhale, "I think it is in the school's best interest if you make sure Mr. Potter is well taken care of and prepared for the upcoming tasks. Should anything happen, come to me immediately."

That...totally didn't sound like she knew something bad was coming. Besides, I had school to attend, and I couldn't spend all my hours watching my best friend like I was his bodyguard. Unfortunately, I had to do as she said. Ugh.

Mcgonagall turned to Draco, "and you are here to keep an eye on someone else."

The boy glanced at me, "please tell me it's not her."

Excuse me?

I frowned, "I don't need you watching me, ferret."

Draco didn't like that.

"Then watch your mouth instead," he growled, leaning over his chair, "what did I say about calling me names?"

Minerva cut in, "I take it you two are already acquainted?"

I shut my mouth, sinking back into my chair. Draco didn't respond either, but I could still feel his eyes stuck on me. Ew, he probably could see my side profile.

Mcgonagall, who seemed tired of our bickering, resumed:

"As you have seen from the first day, we have a new professor, Alastor Moody," she explained, "I would have liked to take this up with Albus, but unfortunately I have lack of proof and time to do so."

I titled my head, "what's wrong with Moody?"

"There is something very strange about that man," she said, "since you have already been acquainted with him, I'm hoping you could figure out the reason for his suspicions."

She was clearly mentioning the ferret incident, and Draco didn't like that. Bringing his hand up to his cheek, he pressed his ring against his skin in held-back retort, but finally let it slip.

"I don't want to go near that man ever again," he hissed, "my father is already taking that pathetic stunt up with the administration."

I snorted, "didn't see that coming."

"I told you to watch your mouth, [l/n]."

I ignored him.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, I'll do it if he doesn't want to," I offered to the professor, "I'm rather a fan of getting into trouble."

I just wanted to see how Draco would react, seeing me so eager to take over his role. He clearly had a knack for jealousy, and I wanted to pry more out of him.

Mcgonagall didn't care.

"You'll both do it," she said, "if you see anything suspicious, come to me immediately."

Draco cared now.

"I have to work with her?" He whined, his spine hitting the back of his chair, "she's a bloody Gryffindor for god's sake."

Was he dumb enough to say that in front of the head of Gryffindor house? Yes, he was.

"There's no room for discussion," Mcgonagall said, waving her hand, "my word is final."

"So I can leave then?" I questioned.

"Yes, you may."

"Thank you, professor."

Getting out of my chair, I ignored the look on the boy's face as I stalked towards the door. I also ignored the sound of his chair screeching against the floor as he struggled to catch up with me.

The shadow of his figure soon appeared out of the corner of my eye.

"Where do you think you're going?" I frowned, turning to look at him, "the Slytherin common room is the other way."

He scoffed, "do you really think I don't know that?"

"I'm just wondering why you're following me."

"I'm not following you."

"Yes, you are."

"Don't flatter yourself."

"Well, I'm not going to flatter you instead, if that's what you prefer—"

"For God's sake," the boy hissed, his voice raising slightly in the empty corridor.

I didn't have a chance to finish my response before I felt his palm wrap around my wrist, and he pulled me to a harsh stop. Somehow it didn't hurt; It was...gentle. Even though his hands were cold, and his expression was hardened, he seemed to have remembered that I was still a human worthy of respect. WoW, ThE BaRe MinImuM.

I was glad he didn't hurt me.

He cleared his throat, letting go of my wrist lightly. If he wasn't wearing his pajama pants, I would have probably been more worried of him than usual. He didn't seem threatening dressed like this.

"Are you going to listen to me?" He spat out, his voice lowering, "or are you going to keep whining? Because if so, I will not hesitate to shut you up."

Uh.

I honestly have no words to describe how that made me feel.

"I've got no time to be watching unqualified professors like Moody," the boy continued, running his hand through his hair, "and who does Mcgonagall think she is? Waking me up in the middle of the night and demanding I become a detective?"

"At least she didn't demand you to be a ferret," I smirked, "although I would have enjoyed that thoroughly."

"Watch your mouth, [l/n]."

"Why do you keep telling me that?"

"Because it's the bloody truth!"

"Are you obsessed with my mouth, Malfoy?" I said in ridicule, cocking a brow, "is that why?"

I swear I heard him gulp.

I swear I did, but he covered it up so quickly I began to question wether I was hearing things right. I was only trying to be snarky with words, I didn't actually mean it when I asked, but now I wanted to know the real answer. Oh.

I should probably change the conversation.

"Would you rather watch Harry instead?" I suggested, "we could always trade jobs."

Draco scoffed, "I'd rather gouge my eyes out."

"Just suck it up and do the job, okay?" I frowned, rolling my eyes, "the quicker we get it over with, the less time we have to spend with each other."

"And you think that's a good thing?" The boy pressed, his eyes flickering with amusement. When I didn't respond, he glanced away and cleared his throat, "besides, when are we going to find time to spy on that lunatic Mad eye moody."

"I'll come up with a schedule tomorrow morning," I shrugged, "it's only a matter of where."

Something about talking to the boy late at night made my insides churn. Maybe it was the depth of his tired voice, the way the faint moonlight shimmered against his eyes, or maybe it was because I had never seen the boy seem so...

I don't have a word for it.

Maybe I shouldn't have a word for it, because I shouldn't be thinking about it.

"I wouldn't be to concerned about that," Draco said, letting out a soft hum, "I've got a room in mind."