Must Be Hell Freezing Over

MUST BE HELL FREEZING OVER

CHAPTER 7

Draco had wisely stayed away from Hermione for most of her stay at the Infirmary.

He had heard once, sometime ago, that he would be able to know if he truly loved a person if he could stay awake just to watch that person sleep. As he settled into his regular chair beside Hermione's Infirmary bed for another night of sleepless vigil, he realized the truth of that statement.

It had been a good, solid three days since The Incident, as he'd taken to calling it, and still Hermione resided in the Hospital Wing. It wasn't that she was still injured, quite the contrary, really; her wound had completely healed. But Madam Pomfrey had insisted that she remain in the Infirmary for at least two more days, as she did not trust Hermione's Gryffindor chums to create a peaceful, quiet environment for her recovery.

It had also been a good couple of sleepless nights for Draco. Ever since Hermione had been in the Infirmary, he'd snuck out each night to come and watch her for no particular reason. Even he didn't know why he felt the need to be by her side throughout the night. It wasn't as if she was in danger; she was perfectly safe and healthy.

Still, something deep inside told him he had to watch her. It was almost as if he were waiting for something, but he'd be damned if he knew what. As he settled his gaze on her peacefully sleeping form, he readied himself for the same routine of the two nights passed.

But, he would later learn, something had been different that night. Maybe it could have been explained by the full moon, or possibly just something in the pumpkin juice, but he knew otherwise. Draco was not one to believe in fate, or destiny or any of that "divination crap", as he had once called it, but sitting there, moonlight gently beaming down on Hermione's soft features, he could have sworn that he had only lived his life to reach that moment.

And, of course, Hermione had to go and ruin the surreal moment by waking up.

"No, pink's not his color," she mumbled as the sandman gently released her back into consciousness.

Draco frowned, his life altering epiphany scene completely shattered. Pink? He wondered to himself, completely forgetting the impending arguement that was soon to ensue, but no matter. Hermione was there to remind him.

"Draco? What are you doing here?" Hermione gasped, more in shock than any other emotion, as she raised herself into a sitting position.

Draco gave her a teasing smirk. "Well, I was brooding until you decided to wake up," he drawled.

Hermione frowned. "Can't you give me a serious answer for once?" she began in an agitated voice.

Inwardly, Draco braced himself for he knew that agitation was only the beginning. "I came to check up on you," he amended in what he hoped was a nonchalant voice.

Hermione gave a sniff. "Obviously not," she muttered the answer to her own question.

Draco shot her a truly offensive look. Did she really think that little of him that she thought he wouldn't even come to see how she was? Apparently so, he thought bitterly.

"I'll have you know that I haven't had a decent night's sleep since I keep coming up here every night to watch you!" he announced indignantly.

This was not what Hermione wanted to hear. "So now you're spying on me while I'm sleeping?" she began incredulously. "It wasn't enough that you embarrassed me in front of the entire school, but you had to come here every night to-to...to bask in the fruits of your labor?"

It was now Draco who was becoming agitated. "Why do you always assume the worst about me, Hermione?" he fairly growled.

"Because I know you," she huffed.

"Obviously you don't," he countered, leaning back into his chair to glare at her.

Hermione gave a sigh, lifting a hand to her head which was starting to ache slightly. Not even noticing Draco's carefully hidden look of worry, Hermione asked tiredly, "Why are you really here, Draco?"

Draco sneered. "Because I wanted to bask in the fruits of my labor," he ended with a smirk.

Hermione glared. "I knew it!" she whispered accusingly.

Draco's sneer dissolved into a smirk as he rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Granger. Don't you recognize sarcasm when you hear it?"

"Nooo," Hermione drew out, the single word dripping with the very thing she apparently could not recognize.

A small smile touched Draco's lips as he said, "Let's not be childish and petty, luv."

Hermione narrowed her eyes into a deadly glare. "You're trying to change the subject," she pointed out.

A roguish grin stretched across his face. "Is it working?" he asked curiously, not even bothering to deny it.

Holding her head up high, Hermione sniffed, "No, now please answer my question."

With wide, seemingly innocent eyes, Draco countered, "I already did; you just didn't like my answer."

Hermione groaned, rolling her eyes and tightly gripping her bed sheets to keep her hands from casually wrapping around his neck to strangle the life out of him. "You're insufferable!" she exclaimed.

His grin widened a bit. "Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment," she snapped back.

Draco gave her an exasperated stare. "Of course it was; I chose to take it that way."

Suddenly, Hermione felt very tired. Hermione gave a sigh and seemed to deflate. "Draco, I'm not in the mood for your little games right now."

"Hermione," Draco began pointedly, "how many times do I have to tell you this is not a game before you get it?"

"Then what is it? Why do you hate me?" she countered.

Draco was genuinely confused. "I- I don't hate you," he softly said, avoiding her eyes.

Hermione would have none of that. "Then why are you doing this? Why the kiss? Why the mistletoe? And why this... engagement?" she spilled out, days of sitting alone in the Hospital Ward wondering about her precarious situation spewing (a/n: hehe... spew, get it?- okay, not funny, back to the story...) forth.

"Because I... like you. I like you, okay?" Draco admitted.

Hermione did her best not to sigh in disappointment. Honestly, what had she been expecting: 'Because I love you?'

Forcing herself to steadily hold his eyes to hers, Hermione barely managed to clear all emotion out of her demeanor and voice as she softly, but firmly, ordered, "Tell me how to undo it."

Hermione's plea nearly unmanned Draco. The silent begging in her eyes as they began to fill up with tears she proudly refused to let fall was almost too much for him. He couldn't stand to see her so helpless and desperate, and he most certainly couldn't stomach the fact that it was him making her feel this way.

Perhaps he should tell her, his better half reasoned. Perhaps he should let her go, move on with his life and watch her move on to Weasley, or worse, Potter. That was what she wanted, wasn't it? But for the love of him, Draco couldn't do it. He was completely aware that he was being terribly selfish, but he honestly didn't give a damn about it.

"I can't," he answered in a voice barely above a whisper.

Hermione continued to gaze impassively at him, looking as if she hadn't even heard him. He knew she had, however, and all he could do was steadily meet her disturbingly clear eyes.

She broke the stare quite suddenly, dismissing him from her mind. Trying to occupy her reeling thoughts, Hermione stretched out her hand and blindly snatched up the first book off of the stack on her nightstand.

'In a school as old as Hogwarts, many interesting magical entanglements are bound to be in abundance. A particular case that comes to This Author's mind is a very interesting tale between a male professor and a seventh year female student who fell victim of a seemingly harmless herb that was only undone when...'

Hermione blinked, forcing herself to stay the hand that instinctively wanted to sweep her tears away. She wasn't even reading the page she had opened up to; wasn't even aware of what book she had picked up. All she did was stare at one word, not even comprehending what that word was. Her eyes continued to well up with unshed tears, and all she did was sit there, eyes wide and tears rolling down her cheeks despite her resolve.

Draco felt a suspicious feeling rise up from his gut to choke him. Hermione was crying; the very thought of her doing so was enough to baffle Draco. Add in the fact that it was him who was the cause of those tears and Draco was completely dumbfounded.

"Hermione, I-" he began to console her awkwardly; "I'll be a good husband."

More tears and a stifled sob.

"Please, please don't cry, Hermione," Draco resorted to begging. He obviously was a man who could not abide women's tears.

"I'll take care of you; you know I'll protect you," he urged.

Hermione stiffly swept her tears into the palm of her hand. "It's not that," she mumbled.

Draco bravely rose from the safety of his chair and went to lean over Hermione, who lowered her head at his approach. Gently, Draco tilted her head back to meet his searching eyes; what he was searching for, he really couldn't say. His hands were cold on her sensitive skin, but instantly warmed her insides. How someone so freezing cold could melt her insides so was beyond her.

Hermione wasn't the only one affected by the intimate gaze. Draco could feel many unsaid emotions swirling inside him; emotions that were reflected in Hermione's telling eyes. He could see confusion and sorrow in their swirling depths. He made out apprehension, and something else. Something soft, passionate, intense, and sweet all at once. It was something that only she had ever looked upon him with; something he himself was only getting used to.

Love. There was no doubt in his mind of what was blazing in her eyes. Suddenly, everything made sense. All of Hermione's actions and responses that had confused Draco to no end at the time all became achingly clear to him now. No wonder she didn't see the reason behind all that he had done, she was blinded, he now saw, by love.

It all seemed so simple to him now. He loved Hermione and she him, and that was all that really mattered. It felt as though he had loved her for years, and it came as naturally to him as breathing came to everyone.

"Tell me, Hermione," he whispered softly, already knowing the answer to his request, but also knowing that she had to say it, and another part of him needing to hear it. "Tell me why you don't want to marry me."

Hermione bit her lip as she often did when she was unsure of herself. "Because I don't want a one-sided love in my marriage."

There. She had said it, and it really hadn't been as hard as she thought it would be. If anything, it was a great relief to finally have it out there in the open for them to deal with. But that relief, however, did not curb her nervousness.

Instead of him laughing at her or smirking at her as she thought he would do, Draco only smiled tenderly at her, his lips hovering above hers as he asked, "Whoever said that you would?"

Hermione's eyes widened a millisecond before Draco closed the gap between their lips. It was a loving kiss, extremely innocent and Hermione reveled in the fact that she was the only woman to ever have seen this chaste side to Draco Malfoy. The soft pressure of his lips against hers was as clear as telepathy: I love you, Hermione.

Hermione smiled against his lips, responding to his pressure by leaning in. Her hand drifted up to caress the nape of his neck, seemingly saying: I love you, too, Draco.

Draco kissed Hermione to the point where it seemed as if he had been kissing her forever, and would be very happy to spend the rest of his life doing so. And the book, Hogwarts: A History, seemed to close on its own volition as their kiss deepened, completely forgotten by them both.