That Time of Year

It was a dreary, dismal day that ushered in the first snowfall. The grounds were masked by a veil of snow, four feet deep in places. Cold drafts snaked through the drafty corridors of the dungeon as the seventh year Gryffindors made their way to the Potions classroom. Down here, there was no Christmas cheer; no bright decorations adorned the hallways, unlike the rest of the castle. Each day, there was a new addition to the festive adornment of the hallways and classrooms. Today, the suits of armor had been adorned with holly and were singing carols at the top of their lungs, while the day previous wreaths and garland had been strung along every hall, filling the air with a vibrant spruce fragrance, reminding everyone that Christmas Holidays were a mere three weeks away.

"It's so bloody cold down here," Ron said, chattering his teeth as they stood in a group outside the locked classroom, waiting for Professor Snape to let them in. Hermione nodded at him, rubbing her hands up and down her arms, bouncing from foot to foot in an effort to keep blood flowing through her body. Harry was cold as well, but he wasn't complaining. He couldn't feel his hands or his nose, and even though their breath was practically visible, he was silent. Hermione kept bouncing around beside him, trying to stay warm.

"What's wrong Harry?" she asked, flipping one leg back and forth now, humming to herself.

"I don't think there's anything wrong with 'im Hermione," interjected Ron, trying to provoke her. "You look as though Malfoy's breathing filthy words down your neck." Harry shot a thankful look at Ron for the distraction. Ron knew something was up, but he wasn't about to ask him in front of Hermione and have it waylaid to the whole school via the seventh year Gryffindor girls.

But before Hermione could find a biting retort or Harry could give an explanation, Malfoy himself interrupted their conversation. "And how do you know I haven't, Weasley?" Draco asked slyly, holding Hermione's waist with one hand and trailing his fingers inside her robes with the other. Ron's eyes bulged at his advances, and Hermione pushed his hands away, although to Harry it didn't appear as though she was trying very hard.

"Draco, not here," she insisted, taking his hands off her hips and away from her backside. He let go of her hands and his fingers climbed as agile spiders on their webs up her shirt. "No, Draco, I told you, not here!" she said adamantly, twisting his hands away from her body and moving away from him. Hermione stood beside Harry, trying to collect her thoughts, and not show the whole world just how badly she wanted him as well. Brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, Hermione met Draco's gaze coolly, looking just as composed as he did.

~*~

Draco was frozen to the spot where Hermione had roughly shoved him. She was never that cold. Never. Not even around the teachers. Why did she do that? Why would she push him away like that, when all she wanted was to kiss him? He had felt her excitement as his hand grazed her stomach, but she chose to move her need for him to the back of her mind as she sided with her friends. Potty and Weasel he thought, rather pathetically, of the monikers by which he had so venomously baptized them. Shaking his head to clear the thoughts, he made his way into the classroom behind the rest of the seventh year Slytherins and Gryffindors.

Potions with Gryffindors had become almost routine over the seven years he had been here. There was still an intense feeling of animosity between the two houses, although it had somewhat receded amongst the seventh years, most were reluctant to level the playing territory. But, old wounds do not heal quickly. Draco's had, but in Harry's case, they refused to. Harry had struggled with Malfoy's turn against Voldemort, and he still didn't completely believe the fact that it was Malfoy who had shoved Harry out of the way of the last Avada Kedavra that had echoed out of the Dark Lord's wand. Draco wasn't surprised. It was typical of Harry, he would attack and ask questions, or that had become his war- time strategy. Eventually, he would come around, but Harry wasn't what he was concerned about at the moment.

There was a vacant table at the back of the classroom, and Draco headed for it, avoiding the glares shooting at him from Harry and Ron. Hermione, it seemed, wasn't paying any mind to him. She was busy scribbling something down in her leather-bound book. The one he had given to her. That fact boosted his spirits, and as he strode arrogantly past her, he shot a wink at the moment she raised her head. Hermione's mouth dropped open due to surprise and in part happiness. Draco smiled at her; genuinely, not maliciously, with feeling and empathy, not indifference.

~*~

Hermione had been avoiding his gaze ever since she pushed him away. Well, that wasn't quite true. She had started defiantly back at him as he questioned her denial of his advances. It should have been obvious, she thought, shaking her head at the blatantly apparent reason she had removed his hands from her body. Just then, he walked by her seat, and winked at her. Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin. Does he want everyone to know right now!? she thought, rather unimpressed with his action. But her heart was cart wheeling at the same time, and a smile played its way across her lips. Draco felt strongly enough for her to show a muted form of public affection, and that made her feel extremely pleased to know that someone cared for her. She didn't dare turn around to look at where he sat, Harry and Ron would figure it our for sure then, but she wanted him to be close.

~*~

He chanced a glance at Hermione; she was busying herself with setting up the vials beside her cauldron, but even through the curtain of hair surrounding her, Draco could see she was smiling, and the colour in her cheeks was one of embarrassment, but not of a negative kind. It was the embarrassment brought about by the revelation of a secret kind; something you wouldn't normally want the world to know, but something that wasn't adverse either. With a trademark smirk, he flipped open his textbook and turned toward Professor Snape.

~*~

"As you all have decided to turn up today," said Snape rather sourly, his face tightly woven into a dour expression as he fixed a menacing gaze upon several students who had neglected to attend class the few days previous, "you will be working in pairs. As there is three hours to this double class, you should have ample time to concoct and run trials of your potion. An essay on your chosen concoction and its properties is to be handed in on Monday along with a sample vial of it. You may begin now."

The scraping of chairs against the hard, grey stone chased its way around the dungeon as the students worked themselves into pairs. Snape took a seat behind his desk and proceeded to attempt to dig himself out of the mountains of essays and assignments stacked upon the beaten desk surface. Harry turned to face Ron, who simply nodded as though he had spoken.

"Yeah, I'll be your partner, but who'll go with Hermione? I mean, what if Malfoy tries to make a move on her again?" Ron turned in his seat to face Harry, his slack expression now bright and looking, however unusual, rather ingenious. "Harry, you go with her. She needs your protection. I mean, Malfoy'll never try anything with you there. He's still got some respect 'cause you saved his life." Ron's eyes were now shining and he had a manic grin spreading across his face.

"I owed him, Ron. And I really don't want to talk about this right now," said Harry firmly, ending all possible further discussion on the subject. And with that, Harry grabbed his bag and flopped into the seat next to Hermione, who nearly fainted of shock.

"Be your partner," said Harry, grinning.

~*~

"Sure," was all she could get out. When Harry smiled, her heart nearly climbed out of her throat, and it was all she could do not to kiss him right there. It wasn't as though she fancied him, because she didn't, but he was just so damn good-looking! The shock of black hair had been tamed over the years, and Quidditch had not done any damage to his body. In fact, it was far from it; his toned arms were easily visible through his shirt. And those eyes! They were this deadly green shade, one that felt they were reading into her very soul. But she shook herself out of the trance and turned back to see Draco, infuriated with Harry's action, cursing as Ron took up a seat beside him.

"What, has Ron taken a fancy to Malfoy?" she asked Harry, grinning as Ron made a gagging symbol with his finger and reluctantly opened his book, sitting as far from Malfoy as it was possible.

Harry looked back at her and smiled. "I really don't know," he answered quietly, flipping to a marked page in his text.