Must Be Hell Freezing Over

MUST BE HELL FREEZING OVER

CHAPTER 6

Draco was only lucky enough to succeed in pulling the dazed Hermione a few feet away from her friends until that lightning quick mind Hermione was so renowned for began to function again.

Draco and I are engaged. We're to be married. We are legally betrothed; the thoughts flew across from one side of her mind to the other for processing. And then, Hermione had a new thought, and a dangerously accurate thought, at that.

He knew what it meant for us to kiss under the mistletoe. It so strategically placed. How could he not know? His family was a proud, old-fashioned pureblooded line, the very same kind that would still use such an out of date practice. He knew. All along, he knew he was going to do this.

I'll kill him.

That was when Hermione dug her heals into the ground, refusing to allow Draco to 'escort' her a moment longer.

"You knew!" Her high, accusing voice rang out across the already deathly silent hall.

Draco inwardly winced, except that he then remembered Malfoys, of course, do not wince. He knew what her reaction was going to be, but did she have to sound so repulsed?

"Now, Hermione, luv," he began in a soothing tone that was more like a manipulating tone to Hermione at the moment

Hermione quickly cut him off with a deadly glare that made Draco extremely grateful that looks could not kill. "Don't you, 'Hermione, luv' me, you- you, you manipulating bastard!"

Draco tried; he truly did, to keep his cool. He told himself that it was just the shock that was making her so upset. It was just the shock she was reacting to that made her sound so horrified, not the prospect of marrying him. Taking deep breaths, Draco slowly counted to five before replying, "Hermione, now don't overreact."

That was the wrong thing to say.

"Don't overreact?! DON'T OVERREACT?! How the hell am I supposed to react when I just found out that someone I trusted betrayed me? You used me, Draco!"

She was unknowingly shooting arrows at his heart, cruelly accurate. "I did nothing of the sort," he defended, even though he knew that it wasn't quite true.

Hermione gave a skeptic snort. "Sure, and I'm the bloody Queen of England," she announced, and then quietly, so that only he could hear her, she leaned towards him and whispered, "I thought you knew this wasn't a game."

Draco took yet another deep breath and counted to five. Then he proceeded to count to ten, and when that had no affect, he decided it was useless. "Use your bloody head, Granger," he snapped.

Hermione drew back in surprise. "What are you talking about?" she asked uncertainly.

His eyes flashed at her sudden change of temperament. Now she decided to play it cool? Was that how it worked? Draco begged to differ.

"For someone so smart, Granger," he snarled. "You really are quite dense."

Every pair of eyes flared open at that. No one, not even the Slytherins, would ever call Hermione stupid.

Hermione repressed the unwelcome tears that came with that stinging remark, instead opting for anger once again. Narrowing her eyes into dangerous slits, Hermione took a menacing step towards Draco, jabbing him in the chest as she simply ordered, "Undo it."

Draco, not one for being intimidated and often stubborn, too, took a step forward, his face dangerously close to hers, and whispered, "No."

This, to put it simply, enraged Hermione. "You bloody well better undo it!" she raged.

Draco folded his arms across his chest and adopted an obstinate glare. "No, I won't." That was really all he had to say on the matter.

Hermione curled her hands into fists at her sides and gritted out, "Draco Malfoy, I told you to undo it, dammit!"

Draco was now secretly amused. Hermione, albeit unknowingly, sounded unerringly like a mother scolding her mischievous toddler.

His nasty smirk melted into the small smile very few had ever seen. "I heard you the first time," he informed her, clandestinely laughing when he saw her confusion.

Hermione, unsure about his sudden change of mood, scowled. "I don't see you fixing it," she felt she should point out.

Draco's smile widened into a grin. "And you won't."

Quite abruptly, Hermione's frustration and chagrin turned to indignation. Hermione Granger, ever the little know-it-all, knew when she was being toyed with, and did not like it one bit.

Pulling herself up to her unthreatening height of 5'3", Hermione glowered at Draco.

"Fine then, be that way," she huffed.

Draco's grin turned roguish. This was really quite entertaining, now. "Fine then, I will," he countered.

Hermione visibly struggled between her rage, her confusion and then her irk. Her eyes took on an almost maniac gleam as she spoke again. "I can undo it myself, you know. I'm not Head Girl for nothing. I'll fix it, with or without your help," she threatened childishly.

Draco smiled and nodded to pacify her. "Of course you will," he allowed.

That was the last straw. With another raging glare at Draco, Hermione proclaimed, "You're a rotten fiancé, Draco Malfoy," and then she swept out of the Hall before she could hear what began as little snickers, but grew into delighted laughter coming from her intended.

~*~

"Hermione, would you like a glass of water? How about some salt for your eggs?" Harry, ever the caring best friend, tentatively offered.

Perhaps expectantly, Hermione snapped at her friend. "No, Harry. I don't want any bloody water, or the bloody salt, so sod off," she fairly growled.

It was only the morning after the infamous ball; the night when Hermione's life irrevocably changed.

After her storming exit, Hermione had made her way straight for the library. She'd show him! She'd find the counter-spell, or charm, or potion or anything that countered the effects of the mistletoe. She'd undo it all and would relish in her victory, that is, she was going to. She would have, honestly she would, but when she had went to the library, she merely found that the books she needed, The Magic of Love; Herbs, Plants and other Magical Shrubberies; and Mistletoe: the Unedited Story, had all been coincidentally had been checked out.

Every book she read had been in vain. If the answer was in any of the books in her treasured library, then it had been checked out by Him. She refused to think of Draco as her fiancé, even though he was, but also refused to be on a last name basis with her fiancé. Thus, Draco Malfoy was only referred to as Him, in her mind and by the others in her presence.

Hermione silently grumbled as she violently stabbed her eggs and gulped down some of her juice. She wouldn't look at him, she told herself; not now, not ever again. She'd ignore him until the end of the world, if she must, as she sure as hell wasn't going to acknowledge him.

But the fates, it would seem, were against her this morning. A single, elegant, proud looking eagle owl swept into the disturbingly quiet room. It wasn't necessarily the fact that the owl post had already come that morning that drew every eye to it. It was more because of the dark, blood red envelope that symbolized the dreaded Howler that the owl carried that drew everyone's rapt attention, especially when the said Howler was dropped in front of none other than Him.

Draco looked up from Quidditch Throughout the Ages to regard the letter with an air of indifference. He calmly set his book down and took the envelope into his hands, opening it with a grace only he could use when opening a Howler.

All at once a strong, male, and extremely angry voice boomed across the Hall.

'DRACO MALFOY, YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE BASTARD! HOW DARE YOU SULLY THE MALFOY NAME BY EVEN ASOCIATING WITH THAT KIND OF FILTH! HAVE YOU NO DECENCY? DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS? THIS TRASH IS GOING TO CARRY THE PRESTIGED MALFOY NAME! YOU ARE A DISGRACE FOR ALLOWING THIS TO HAPPEN! I THOUGHT I RAISED YOU BETTER THAN THIS, DRACO. DO YOU KNOW THAT THIS ENGAGEMENT HAS ALREADY MADE THE HEADLINES OF THE DAILY PROPHET? YOUR POOR MOTHER ALMOST HAD A HEART ATTACK! IF I DIDN'T KNOW BETTER, SON, I'D THINK THAT THIS WAS A CRY FOR ATTENTION. IS IT TRUE THAT SHE'S POTTER'S BEST FRIEND? IT'LL CAUSE A SCANDAL! I AM THOROUGHLY ASHAMED OF YOU AND YOU'RE BLOODY LUCKY I HAVEN'T DECIDED TO DISOWN YOU... YET!'

The word 'yet' echoed out throughout the Hall, sealing Hermione's fate. Thinking was impossible for her. All she could do was sit there in her seat, mouth agape in utter horror.

Numbly, Hermione tore her eyes away from the Howler that was now in flames. The fact that the first thing she saw was the top of Draco's head, since he had at some point during the message picked up his book and continued reading unperturbedly, did not go well with her already strained emotions.

Even worse was when he looked up from his book to directly meet her eyes. He stared at her for what seemed to be an eternity, and then, ever so slowly, a grin spread across his handsome features. His grin could really rival the Weasley Twins'.

"Hermione, love! Father sends his blessings!"

That was all it took for Hermione to snap.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Hermione exploded, jumping to her feet and glaring across the hall.

Professor Snape rose to his feet as if to extinguish the situation, but with a small shake of Dumbledore's head, he sat back down to glare at the two students.

Draco's grin turned insolent. "I'm your fiancé," he answered, flipping a page of his book nonchalantly.

Hermione's hands curled up into fists and she fought the urge to reach for her wand and hex him into oblivion. "Not if I can help it!" she hollered back.

Draco smiled passively. Snapping his book shut and leaning forward in his chair he called back, "Ah, but you can't!"

Hermione's hand twitched at her side. Her wand was so close, yet so far away...

"I'll undo it, Draco! You know I can!" she threatened.

Draco knew a challenge when he heard one. Raising to his feet he quirked a brow, "Is that so?" he dared.

The narrowing of Hermione's beautiful amber eyes was answer enough for him. It was a shame that Hermione was really quite gorgeous when she was angry, perhaps if she wasn't Draco would then stop provoking her. But alas, Draco found her fiery spirit and enragement quite endearing.

"Well, Hermione," he began in his lazy drawl. "If you can so easily undo this, why haven't you?"

Hermione tilted her head up in a gesture of arrogance, most likely something she had learned from her fiancé.

"Because I haven't found the time," she huffed.

And Draco laughed. He actually laughed in front of the entire school. "Oh, that's rich!" he sputtered. "And here I was, thinking it was because you couldn't live without me!"

"Well, now, I see why you find that idea so hilarious," Hermione began in a cuttingly sweet voice. "Who would ever want to live with a bastard like you?" she spat.

That shut him up. It wasn't necessarily the remark itself, which had, in truth, stung, but merely her manner of saying it. The hatred and disgust that had filled her voice silenced his amusement. Draco had never thought Hermione capable of such a scathing reply; most likely another thing she had learned from him.

The hurt was only momentary, though; he wasn't a Malfoy for nothing. He covered it up with rage and indignation, thus it was merely his anger that made him reply, "You should count yourself lucky that I even let a filthy Mudblood like you in my presence."

Again, that shocked silence. It was long and awkward and spoke volumes. Hermione was shaking and was having trouble breathing. Her breath was coming in short gasps that stung her chest. She was hyperventilating, she knew. She needed to calm down, to catch her breath; to breathe. But for the life of her, the air wouldn't come.

Ginny, who was very observant and just happened to be sitting to Hermione's right, noticed the older girl's trouble.

"Hermione," Ginny began, shooting to her feet.

But Hermione couldn't hear her. All she could hear was Draco's echoing voice. Mudblood. That one word ricocheted in her mind with a cruel sneer.

He doesn't love you. You're only a Mudblood. He was just using you. It's only a game to him, only a game. It means nothing, you mean nothing. You are nothing to him...

Draco knew immediately after he said the word, he'd live to regret it. He watched her staring at him in hurt, and betrayal. And he'd caused her that hurt, that pain that was clearly evident in her telling eyes. He'd hurt her deeply, and he didn't think he could ever forgive himself.

And all the while, Hermione just stood there, staring at him and trying to breathe the air that had come some easily to her moments before. Tears were forming in her eyes, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction in seeing her cry. She would not cry! But the tears had a mind of their own and came despite of her resolve.

What happened in the next few moments was beyond everyone's control. Draco opened his mouth to apologize, Ginny tried to comfort the other girl, Ron and Harry pulled out their wands to hex Draco, and Hermione tried to stop crying and to gulp some much needed air at the same time, resulting in a dead faint onto the floor.

Perhaps it wouldn't have been so bad if her head hadn't snapped back against the floor upon impact, but it did.

A loud crash was heard as Draco leapt across the Slytherin table in his rush to get to Hermione. He came to a halt by her crumbled form and paled. There was a small trail of blood coming from the back of Hermione's head, and was it just him, or did she look deathly pale?

"Oh, dear god, Hermione," came out in a strangled whisper.

Ginny, the only Gryffindor close enough to actually hear the pain and guilt in his voice, frowned curiously. But her attention was quickly averted back to her fallen friend and to two other Gryffindors kneeling by her.

"She's alright. She has to be," Draco muttered, his own usually pallor color draining from his cheeks.

No one paid him any attention. Madam Pomfrey was hovering over Hermione now, examining her newest patient.

"There's a rather nasty cut at the back of her head, but she'll be just fine. She'll have a mean headache when she wakes, but I can ease the pain. Come on boys, help levitate her onto the stretcher and lead her up to the Hospital Wing," the Medi-witch diagnosed.

Ron and Harry had completely forgotten about Malfoy now, and were doing as they were bid to do. Ever so gently they guided Hermione out of the Great Hall, and, Draco couldn't help but to think, out of his life.

Things were most definitely not going as he had planned.