Must Be Hell Freezing Over

MUST BE HELL FREEZING OVER (3/?)

"You're late."

Hermione's current outrage was swept away by Draco's flippant statement. She balled her hands into fists at her sides. He spoke to her as if she should feel sorry for keeping His Majesty waiting for a full three minutes.

"Three minutes... I call that fashionably not on time," Hermione proclaimed, keeping her anger in check.

Draco turned away from the glowing, crackling fire to face Hermione. He smirked when he saw her tight fists.

"Well, Hermione dear, for future reference, I don't like to be kept waiting," he informed her, stepping away from the fire towards Hermione.

That statement brought back Hermione's original purpose and reason for coming down to meet him. She met him halfway across the room and glared up at him.

Draco raised a questioning brow at her anger. He did not have to ask what the problem was since Hermione was considerate enough to get straight to the point.

"'Waiting for you!' What the hell is that supposed to mean, Draco? Hm-m?" She took a threatening step forward, punctuating each word with a sharp jab of her finger to his chest.

Draco amusedly caught her finger in his hand, chuckling to himself. "I was wondering when that was going to click in," was all he had to say.

Hermione snatched back her hand irritably. "You didn't answer my question, Draco dear," she pointed out in a sneer.

Thankfully, Draco was able to suppress his laughter, because he had the strangest feeling that if Hermione got the idea that he was being entertained by her anger, which he was, she was bound to show him how stubborn she could be.

"Well, it's a pretty straightforward statement, luv. What part of it didn't you understand?"

Draco immediately regretted saying that as soon as the words left his mouth. Hermione's eyes widened and her cheeks flushed red, but not for any of the reasons Draco liked to see her blush. He really knew how to say the wrong things. She might have been annoyed with him the other night, irritated by him earlier today in the library, but now she was livid.

'Smooth Draco, that's the way to win her over- Piss her off,'

he mentally chided himself.

Hermione took another threatening step forward, but this time, Draco was wise enough to take a step back.

"Just who do you think you are? I'm not something you can toy around with! I'm not yours!" her voice was dangerously nearing a high-pitched shrill that reminded him of Pansy Parkinson.

'You will be though, mine that is,'

Draco couldn't help but to think.

"Hermione, please, calm down," he began placating. "Of course you're not a toy. You are a living human being, and I know that."

Hermione was far from appeased. "Then why do you keep playing these mind games on me? Why all of the rendezvous and late night therapy sessions, hm-m?"

Draco knew that he should be trying to pacify her. With the rate she was going, she'd be hollering at him like a fishwife with a rolling pin in her hand soon enough. In normal circumstances he'd be saying anything and everything to soothe her, but damn it to Hell; Hermione was really beautiful when she was mad.

"Draco... Why are you staring at me?" Hermione lapsed out of her rage to ask.

He was acting very strangely. One moment he had been wide eyed, trying to console her, the next, he was standing there staring at her with a very odd look in his eyes. And then there was the fact that he was trying to assuage her anger in the first place. Under a normal situation, he'd be saying and doing anything he'd think would make her even angrier; but, well, Hermione had to face it. This wasn't exactly a normal situation.

Hermione's rage had been exhausted by her confusion over Draco's reaction. His earnest attempts to comfort her apparently had worked. Her anger left her, leaving her feeling drained and tired. Quite suddenly, Hermione moved to McGonagall's desk, unceremoniously plopping down and kicking up her feet with a tired sigh.

"So, what did you want?" she asked in a reasonable tone of indifference.

Draco didn't know if he should feel lucky for getting off light, or worried over Hermione's sudden change of heart. He chose to change the subject; for he had the strangest feeling that admitting he wanted her wouldn't go over quite well.

He smiled suddenly as he realized what she had just done. "Hermione, that's the teacher's desk!" he proclaimed in mock horror.

She narrowed her eyes at him in annoyance. "Well, thank you very much, Captain Obvious."

He moved to take the seat opposite of hers and faced her with an appraising stare. "I thought that you, of all people, would respect teacher's private property."

Hermione gave an unladylike snort accompanied by a laugh. "Well, I guess you don't really know me then, now do you?"

Draco frowned as he realized she was virtually right, as always, and that he wanted to change that. "Well, you can give me a chance to get to know you," he pointed out.

Rich, amber eyes fell onto him. "Is that what this is all about? Draco Malfoy, pureblooded Slytherin wants to get neighborly with Hermione Granger, the Mudblood Gryffindor?"

Draco felt a surge of anger. "Don't call yourself that!" he snapped.

Hermione, startled by his sudden distaste for his long time endearment for her, removed her feet from the desk and leaned forward. Propping her elbows up on the desk and resting her chin in her hands, Hermione asked, "Why not? You've called me that any number of times. Am I not good enough to say it? Unworthy, am I?"

Draco half snorted, half sighed in exasperation. "Don't be stupid, Hermione. Referring to yourself as a Mudblood is demeaning. Where's your sense of pride?"

"I'm a Gryffindor; my sense of pride deserts me when I'm stubborn. I don't care what people think of me," she declared nonchalantly.

He knew she was being honest; why should she lie? But her low opinion of herself affected him, even though he knew it shouldn't. "You're not a Mudblood, so stop calling yourself one," he ordered.

Hermione wasn't too keen on being ordered about, but she overlooked that for now. "If I'm not one, then why have you been calling me one since second year?"

Damn, he should've known she wouldn't just do as he said. Now he had to explain himself, like he did something wrong. In his mind, Draco Malfoy could do no wrong.

"Look, I know we've got quite a colorful history together. I've said and done some things to you that I'm not exactly proud of and I'm man enough to admit that I had no real reason for making your days here a living hell except that I was just bored. I had nothing better to do. I know that's not an excuse, but what's done is done. All we can do is stop dwelling on the past and look towards the future where I hope history won't repeat itself," he explained in a calm, rational voice.

Draco was surprised to find that he meant every word of what he had just said. Dear God, what had she done to him?

Hermione, as if reading his very thoughts, smiled wickedly. "Apologize," she said with an amused gleam in her big, beautiful eyes.

He must have misheard her. "Come again?"

Her amusement skyrocketed at his genuine surprise. "Apologize for being an insufferable git..." she explained quite clearly. "Please," she added in as an after thought.

His eyes widened in horror at the very thought. All he could do was sit there and stare deeply into her liquid amber eyes, swirling with comfort. Dear God, she was being completely serious; he hadn't misheard her.

Him

apologizing to her, or to anyone for that matter, was absolutely out of the question. He was Draco Malfoy; he did not have to apologize to anyone. It was enough that he felt sorry; he didn't have to admit it. In fact, he'd never apologized to anyone in his life, and he wasn't about to start now.

"I'm sorry," the words came stumbling out before he could stop them.

Hermione bestowed her most radiant smile to him; perhaps apologizing wasn't so bad after all, Draco allowed.

"Now was that so hard?" she whispered with an ear to ear grin.

No it wasn't, but he wasn't going to admit that. He sat there, meeting her happy eyes in wonder. He was the reason for that happiness; knowing that put Draco in a state of awe. He had made her happy, and doing so made him happy.

Draco fixed Hermione with an intense gaze. Her eyes were glowing a swirling to life under his stare. She seemed so small, so fragile to him. He could snap her in half without breaking out into a sweat. Someone so small needed protecting. Draco would protect her, he vowed. He would protect her at all cost.

Draco's breath suddenly caught in his chest. Ever since last night, Draco knew that he wanted Hermione; he knew that he desired her. But what if he was falling for her? - As in literally falling helplessly victim to her charms, innocence and comfort. Maybe it wasn't only her body he desired, but her love and affection as well.

The thought alone was enough to scare him shitless.

Hermione, having no clue of what Draco was concluding, met the smoldering silver hue eyes; eyes the color of rain, she realized. "Apology accepted."

Those words seemed to awaken him from the trance her eyes had put him in. Allowing this to sink, Draco grinned at her. "Well, luv, that was a bit obvious."

Hermione snickered. "I suppose it was," she allowed. "Look at me; I'm grinning like a child who has just been told Christmas is coming early!"

"Sorry, luv, guess you have to wait like all the other kiddies," he replied amusedly.

Lifting her shoulders in a gesture of indifference, Hermione responded, "Well, it's not like I have long to wait anyway. Christmas Sunday is about two weeks away."

Draco gave a slight nod of his head to show that he had heard her, but otherwise he did not respond. He was staring at her again in amazement. Hermione found this fascinating and disconcerting all in one. He was looking at her as if really seeing her for the first time, like he had never seen her before. It was baffling her.

"You confuse me," she informed, staring intently into his deep, swirling eyes.

He frowned. "How so?"

Hermione didn't answer right away. Instead, she took her time and contemplated him and her answer. Being completely lost in thought, she didn't notice the small smile playing across Draco's lips.

Tilting her head to the side to study him, Hermione responded, "Just two days ago, I thought you absolutely despised anything and everything that had to do with Muggles, and here you are now, flirting with a Muggleborn witch."

Draco met her clearly perplexed gaze, feeling some of that same confusion. Wasn't he the one that was supposed to be doing the seducing? Licking his lips lightly, he studied Hermione. Her nose was scrunched up as if she was trying to solve an Arithmancy puzzle and her brow was creased in her bewilderment. She looked adorable and irresistible to him.

Belatedly, he wondered if she knew the effect she had on him. No, she couldn't have, and knowing that she wasn't intentionally being seductive made Draco want her more.

"I didn't hate everything Muggle," he confessed after quite some time of stargazing; well, gazing at the stars in her eyes.

Before she could ask for clarification, he elaborated freely. "I have always had a fondness for, well, Muggle music," he confessed.

Hermione's eyes grew wide in astonishment. "Muggle music?" she echoed.

He stirred uncomfortably and suddenly became very interested in his shoelaces. "Well, not all Muggle music, mind you. Just classical. Bach, Mozart, Beethoven and the likes."

Steeling himself to meet her laughing eyes, Draco looked up at her. Much to his surprise he did not see mocking laughter, but saw instead compassion.

"I understand," she said quietly. It was her turn to stare intently at her feet.

"You do?" Draco asked uncertainly, studying the top of her head.

Tugging a stray strand of hair that had escaped her do behind her ear, Hermione continued without breaking her stare on her feet. "Well, we all have something we love that we keep secret because others most likely don't understand. It's like something special; something that is just for us."

She could feel, rather than see, Draco's nod of acknowledgment.

"Even I have something that no one here knows about, not even Ron and Harry..." she admitted.

Draco was highly intrigued. "Will you tell me?" he asked.

Hermione finally lifted her head to look intently into Draco's eyes. The better question was: Could she tell him? Could she trust him enough to tell him? Deep down Hermione knew her answer. Yes; she could tell him anything, she recognized.

"I, well, I love to go horseback riding," she confided.

Draco looked merely inquiring and interested. "Horseback riding?"

Hermione smiled thankfully to him. He knew not to question her sanity or ask why she rode horses. Hermione was pleasantly surprised by many things about Draco Malfoy.

"Yes; I love horseback riding. When I ride, I feel," she frowned, racking her mind for the correct term. "Free," she concluded. She smiled suddenly. "I'm sure you're aware that my flying capabilities aren't very... shall we say, impressive?"

Draco snorted at the understatement, recalling when he had caught Potter trying to give her lessons and then watching her fall from the air at a frighteningly high distance. He had almost flown out to catch her himself when Potter had reached out to her and caught her about a foot from the ground. He had yet to see Hermione on a broom again.

"Well, when I ride I feel like I'm flying, but I'm good at it. It's like my flying substitute. When I was younger, I fancied owning my own horse, or some stables, but now," she broke their gaze to once again to study her feet. "Well, now I'm a witch."

Tilting his head to the side, Draco curiously asked, "Do you resent getting your Hogwarts letter?"

"Oh-h, no not at all," Hermione began earnestly. "I just can't help but to wonder 'what if.' You know, like what if I wasn't a witch, would I be riding horses? That's probably the only thing I actually regret about Hogwarts; I can't go horseback riding, because there are no horses. I usually ride everyday during the Summer Holidays." She smiled dreamily, envisioning memories that only she could see.

The silence between them stretched, becoming awkward. Deciding that it was about time to leave, Hermione gracefully rose to her feet and dusted off imaginary lint off of her clothing.

Draco, unsuccessfully trying not to stare transfixed on her hand as it smoothed itself over her curves, shifted awkwardly in his chair.

"Well, Draco, I can't say that I fully understand you or these meetings we keep having, but I must admit, I am starting to enjoy them," Hermione made her way across the room and towards the door.

With elegant, cat-like reflexes Draco rose from his chair and turned to stare at Hermione. She was leaning in the open doorway, fixing him with a friendly smile.

Draco felt something shift in his heart and something dissolve in his stomach. A warm, flooding heat crept its way into his cheeks. Oh Lord, he was blushing. Hermione Granger was making Draco Malfoy blush with only a friendly smile; it was scandalous.

Hermione, not noticing Draco's rather becoming flush, turned to leave the room.

"Wait, Hermione," Draco called out, causing her to turn back around to face him with an inquisitive look.

He grinned at her. He really could be quite charming when he wanted to be, Hermione concluded. His grin sent shivers down her spine and freed the butterflies in her stomach.

"What?" she asked, trying, without success, not to blush.

Draco beamed at her. "Same time tomorrow?"

Returning his smile fondly, Hermione conceded, "Of course."

Before Draco knew it, he was alone in the room, smiling for no apparent reason. He was falling for her, he admitted. He was falling face first and had no intention of stopping himself.

~*~*~

Hermione idly walked through the halls of the school, making her way back towards the Gryffindor Tower in no apparent hurry.

She was smiling softly to herself, but damn her if she knew why. Her chest tightened as she pictured Draco grinning down at her. What had caused this sudden change in him? - Her?

Hermione fervently shook her head. Where had that thought come from? Like she had the power to bring out the good in Draco Malfoy... right. Still, she could not wipe away her delighted smile.

When Hermione finally realized that she was grinning like an idiot, she frowned. What was it about him that made her smile? Well, whatever it was, she sincerely hoped he'd never lose it.

She was falling for him, of that she was sure. Knowing that was enough to make her want to laugh, sing, scream and cry out in the sheer joy of it all. She knew that if things continued, she'd fall completely in love with him. Hermione would love him unconditionally, because she was the type of person that loved only once, and when she did, it was great, meaningful and lasted forever. She was scared to death because Hermione knew that Draco wouldn't be there to catch her when she fell completely.

Knowing that her feelings would never be returned by the object of her affections helped Hermione's smile to finally fade.

Softly muttering the password to the Fat Lady, Hermione forlornly crawled into the room and promptly froze in shock.

"Hermione, what are you doing up and about this late? It's almost two in the morning," Ron's voice echoed in her head.

There, sitting across from one another was none other than her two best friends, Harry and Ron. They had their Divination books, Unfogging the Future, open and out in front of them and appeared heavy eyed.

"I could ask you guys the same thing," she pointed out, wondering when they came down. They most definitely weren't there when she had left.

"Oh, we're just finishing up our Divination essays that are due tomorrow, is all. Neville was snoring again so we decided to come down here," Harry offered, eyeing Hermione with a suspicious glare.

There was a long moment of silence before Hermione realized they were waiting for her explanation.

"Oh, well, I couldn't sleep- err, so I just went to the, uh, the- uh Library to do some reading, is all. Yeah, well, good night, guys," she stumbled the lie to them, proud of herself for thinking of something that they'd actually buy.

Flashing her friends a shaky smile, Hermione went up to finally get some sleep.

Ron and Harry watched Hermione go with concern dawning on their faces. Looking back at each other, they each came to the same conclusion. "She lied," they both agreed at the same time.