Heart of Ice

             Draco was only idly aware of the dronings of Professor Binns. Even if he had wanted to listen to the lesson, (a riveting rendition of the election of the first Minister of Magic), he doubted he could have distinguished the Professor's voice from the snores of his classmates. Draco would have wondered if the ghost didn't know or simply didn't care that his class was asleep, but he had too much on his mind. Like Hermione telling him off last night. The past week's events needed pondering over...

* * *Five Days Earlier* * *

           Draco took a deep breath, and lay down on his big four-poster bed. It was only eight o' clock, but he was exhausted, having had avoided sleep for the past two days. At first Draco had liked the idea of being a Seer. That, of course, was before his first attempt at sleep had resulted in him accidentally trapping himself in one of Snape's dreams. It was amazing the things that man could think of to do with nothing but McGonagall and a feather boa. Draco shuddered at the memory. Dumbledore had laughed when he told him,and suggested that next time he focus more. He hadn't slept since.

           Now, though, sleep was unavoidable. He closed his eyes, and remembered Dumbledore's lessons...

           'Take deep breaths, Mr. Malfoy. Very good. Now, close your eyes. Everything is dark. Relax until you see a blue light...'

           Draco followed his advice now, hoping against hope that this time it would work. He could feel his mind becoming heavier, until he thought his head would sink through his pillow like a stone in water. The pressure steadily increased behind his eyes, uncomfortably so, until finally a blue glow was visible amidst the all consuming black around him. It began to rush towards him like a train, and the pressure continued to build.

           'Now Draco, this is very important. The light leads to other people's dreams. You will not be ready for that for a while yet. The pressure is even more advanced, it leads to prophecies. Focus on the darkness around you if you want to sleep. Imagine it is a blanket, Draco. Bury yourself in the blanket and you'll go to sleep...'

           The combination of the near-blinding light and pressure was fast becoming painful. How was he to sleep when he was in so much pain? He remembered Dumbledore's words again.

           'It will be painful if you do not focus, Draco. You have to focus on the light, pressure, or darkness. If you do not, your mind will begin to boil.'

           That was exactly what it felt like. Like his brain was being held in scalding hot water. He tried to grasp the black blanket, but the pressure was too great. The pressure was even more apparent than the light. The pressure-

           Then, the pain subsided and the light went out. Draco looked around. He didn't seem to have a body. Was he asleep, then? It didn't seem like a dream, whether his or somebody else's. A feeling of dread overcame him. He'd done it wrong again. If he had managed to go to sleep he wouldn't be aware like this. That meant he'd gone to the pressure. The prophecies. Oh, Merlin. Suddenly, everything around him erupted into action.

           He saw himself standing with his father and Voldemort, in the middle of a dark forest. While they were talking, Dream Draco slipped away and ran past them, towards a nearby graveyard. Lucius and Voldemort began to laugh, but it sounded panicked. Maniacal. Dream Draco fell to his knees before a large angel tombstone, and was surprised to see that the angel was his mother. She blinked and lowered her head to look down at him, making him jump back in surprise. Dream Draco was somehow aware of the fact that she shouldn't be moving. How was she real? Just then, Voldemort stepped beside him, an angry look on his face. "I warned her," he muttered bitterly, as she disappeared.

           Draco wanted to leave this place, but found that he couldn't. He continued to watch.

           The Dream Draco leapt to his feet and pointed to the East, where the sun was rising. Voldemort growled angrily. "You fool! Your presence there brings death to us all!" Dream-Draco narrowed his eyes, and began to run towards the horizon in great strides. He ran and ran, until he seemed to become part of the sun itself. The observing Draco watched with horror, as Dream Draco grinned, and fell to the ground in a heap of bones, his flesh shriveling up and flaking off of him. Voldemort and Lucius screamed, and fell immediately after him. A voice began to whisper in the wind...

'The dark has betrayed its own. A self-destructive shadow shall now aid the sun...help the light...destroy the dark...'

           Draco woke with a start to the sound of banging on his bedroom door, and a pounding headache.

           "Malfoy? Malfoy, wake up you great git! You're going to be late for Potions!" Hermione called irritably. Draco glanced at his clock which read: She's right, you fool!

           "Shit!" he cursed. "I'm coming!"

* * *Now* * *

           Pansy tugged on Draco's arm. "Come on, Drakey! It's time for lunch," she whined. It had always amazed Draco how she could simper through simple statements. He shuddered, but gathered his things and followed her to the Great Hall. She was chattering enthusiastically, ecstatic that he wasn't telling her off like usual. He didn't even pretend to be paying attention.

           That dream would have frightened Draco, had he not been a Malfoy. Malfoys didn't get scared. He knew what the implications of it were, and he really didn't care. In fact, the only part he was concerned about was the fact that he could apparantly bring Voldemort down for what he did to Narcissa. He didn't care that it would probably cost him his life. Draco wanted revenge. Nobody messed with a Malfoy and got away with it. Especially if that Malfoy was Draco Malfoy.

           Draco thought back to a couple of days before...

* * *Two Days Earlier* * *

           "Hello Salazar. Where are the others today?" Draco asked the portrait- Founder curiously. The painted man grinned.

           "They wanted to visit the common rooms. They do that, you know. They like to check up on their Houses."

           "You didn't feel like visiting Slytherin?" Draco frowned slightly.

           "It isn't that I don't like to visit my House, Draco. It's that bludger-headed Parkinson portrait! The woman won't leave me alone whenever I'm in sight." Draco laughed. The Parkinsons were a very old and powerful Wizarding family, and had insisted that their ancestor, Bellatrice Parkinson, have her picture in the Slytherin common room. She was just as pug-nosed and whiney as her descendant. "That's alright," Salazar continued cheerily, "I've been meaning to talk to you since we first met. Are you really our descendant?" he asked, referring to Rowena and himself. Draco smirked.

           "I think so. Rowena's annoying little Gift was passed to me recently." Salazar furrowed his brow.

           "Her what?" he asked confusedly. Draco raised an eyebrow, but remained otherwise neutral. Rowena must not have become a Seer until after the portrait was made.

           "I'm a Seer," he replied by way of explanation. Salazar smiled enthusiastically.

           "She finally succeeds, does she? How is it?"

           "Horrible. It got my family in trouble with Voldemort," Draco replied, a thin layer of bitterness audible beneath his words. Salazar's expression darkened.

           "Voldemort," he sneered, "is a fool. If one is going to try to take over the world, he should probably make sure a pesky little thing like a baby boy doesn't kill him first."

           "Potter didn't kill him," Draco scoffed. If there was one thing Draco didn't need right now, it was to hear Slytherin's portrait rattle on about the wonders of Harry Potter. Perfect Harry Potter who had everything. Perfect Harry Potter who was best friends with Hermione. Draco unknowingly scowled, causing Salazar to chuckle, almost as if he knew what he was thinking. "Ah, yes. Your feud with Harry Potter is legendery in Hogwarts, you know. However, you seem to be getting along with young Miss Granger rather well," he said slyly. Draco studiously ignored him.

           "If you were alive, I suppose you could kill Voldemort with no problem," he mused, thinking of how he was going to attempt the very same thing.

           "Of course I could! All of his better ideas came from me, and they weren't my best. I don't understand his fixation on Muggle-borns. I never had a problem with them, per se. I just wanted their entire families' memories obliterated to protect the Wizarding world." Salazar paused and examined Draco's expression, which was unreadable as usual. "If he could, he would kill Miss Granger, no doubt."

           "He wants me dead, too. Almost got his wish." Salazar narrowed his eyes and shook his head at this.

           "If I were alive today, I'd use Multus Abi and get it over with. It would be worth it, to die and take all of them down with me. I'd have to get pretty close for it to work, but I doubt that would be too hard for me. It can kill hundreds at once, that curse." He glanced at Draco. "Have you heard of it before? Probably not. One of my most effective creations, if a tad self-destructive." Draco leaned against the door-frame and tried to appear nonchalant, though he was extremely intrigued.

           "Multus Abi , you say? How did it work?" Salazar was about to answer, when he seemed to remember himself. He gave Draco a shrewd, calculating look. His eyes seemed to pierce Draco's soul, if he had one, and he once again got the eerie sensation that Slytherin knew what he was thinking.

           "I shouldn't have told you about that spell. It's powerful Dark Magic, Draco. Don't get any ideas. Besides, the curse is too Gryffindor to strike your fancy. You wouldn't live to reap the glory. Effective curse, but not very practical."

           "What curse is that?" asked a melodic voice. Hermione, Draco thought as he turned to look at her. She must have run from her last class. Her cheeks were flushed, and her big, beautiful eyes were sparkling with curiosity and life as usual. Draco had to squelch the desire to kiss her, and instead plastered his best sneer on his face.

           "None of your business, Granger. Though I must say, there certainly seem to be many things you don't know lately. Must be losing your touch." As if he'd lit a fuse, Hermione's eyes caught fire, and her pouty lips contorted into a frown. Draco smiled inwardly. He loved riling her up.

           "Interesting, Malfoy," she spat the name like a curse. "You finally admit that I have 'touch'?" Draco had to use all of his willpower not to explore all the possible interpretations of that question. He grinned.

           "But of course. All the 7th Year boys are talking about it. Did you want to give me a demonstration?" he asked suggestively. Her eyes widened with indignant realization.

           "Ugh! You are such a prick, Malfoy!" she whipped her head around to face an amused Salazar Slytherin. "Hogwarts!" she bit out furiously, before storming into the common room. And for the first time in months, Draco laughed.

           "Smooth, Mr.Malfoy. Really," Salazar said sarcastically. Draco glared at him.

           "Don't be ridiculous," he snapped. "I don't care what she thinks. She's insufferable. Hogwarts." With that Draco went to his room to ponder what he'd heard, and clear his mind of the portrait's silly insinuations.

           That curse Slytherin had mentioned seemed like an excellent option for revenge. Draco wasn't too concerned about dying, if he could take his enemies down with him. He idly wondered if he could kill Potter too. Yes, he would have to research Multus Abi the first chance he got.

* * *Now* * *

           Draco stared at his plate full of mashed-potatoes and chicken. Surprisingly, it had been Hermione that had strengthened his resolve to research and use Multus Abi on Voldemort and his followers. Last night she had done something to him. She had made him feel...warm. He had told her things he'd never told anyone else, and she had listened. For a moment, he had even wondered if she might genuinely like him. Not that he would have cared, of course.

           Then, she had asked what he truly thought about Voldemort's cause. Draco realized with no small amount of shock that he didn't know. He had absolutely no idea what to think anymore. He had always been told one thing, and Hermione made him think another. Even Salazar Slytherin's opinion was different than he thought. It was...confusing. Draco despised confusion. Then, quick as a flash, she had told him off and slapped him.

           That had made Draco's decision so much easier. He would research the Multus Abi curse, and use it. He knew that Voldemort wanted him, so he would pretend to go back to the Dark side, after having had a dream that told him he would die if he did anything to help the Light. That, at least, was true. Then, he would kill them all. They wouldn't even see it coming. Draco grinned. Oh, yes. Revenge would be sweet. And the best part was, he knew he would be successful. Thankyou, Ravenclaw!

           It wasn't as if he had anything better to do with his life at this point, anyway. He was just a charming, charismatic bastard. Even Hermione Granger, the smartest witch the world had seen in ages, could see that. Draco chanced a glance across the Great Hall. There she was, talking and laughing with her friends, all goodness and beauty. No wonder she hated him. She was the only witch in Hogwarts who was smart enough to see through his charm, good looks and incredible intellect. It could have something to do with the fact that he'd made the last 6 years of her life hell.

           Merlin, what was the matter with him? Malfoys didn't care what Mudblood Witches thought about them. Malfoys didn't care about anything.

           He didn't need this shit.

           She suddenly turned and met his eyes, as if she'd known he would be looking. Draco felt that strange warmth again.

           Crap.

* * *

           Hermione laughed as Seamus gave a marvelous impersonation of Professor Snape coming up with excuses to take points from Gryffindor. He had the act down perfectly.

           Suddenly, Hermione felt the hairs on the back of her neck begin to tingle. She turned to meet the frozen gaze of Draco Malfoy. She wanted desperately to look away, but found, much to her embarassment, that she couldn't. Even after he had been such a jerk the night before, Hermione found herself feeling just like all of those other Witches: completely unable to see past his charm, good looks and incredible intellect. Her stomach fluttered warmly as he continued to stare into her eyes.

           She mentally shook herself and looked away, finally breaking the link. Last night he had made it perfectly clear that he was not a supporter of the Light. She was disgusted with him for being such an arsehole, and herself for not hating him more for it.

           'But is it really so bad if he no longer supports either side? You didn't give him a chance to explain himself,' a voice whispered in the back of her mind. Hermione stubbornly refused to acknowledge it. She had asked him to answer her, and he had changed the subject. That was all the explanation she needed.

           Hermione glanced up as she heard somebody shouting. It was coming from the Slytherin table. "What's going on?" she asked nobody in particular. Ginny leaned over and whispered in her ear.

           "Your boyfriend just threw Malcolm Baddock against the wall," she replied excitedly. Hermione saw Draco's blonde hair from across the room, in front of a mop of black hair. She felt the blood drain from her face. Malcolm Baddock was an extremely large, 7th Year Slytherin chaser. People avoided picking fights with him. Hermione felt the frigid grip of fear overwhelm her.

           "That idiot!"

* * *

           Finally, Hermione turned back to her friends, and Draco shook his head slightly to clear his thoughts. It was then that he felt the presence of somebody standing behind him. He found that his Seer abilities had given him a sense for these things as well, even more than he had before. "Yes?" he asked stonily, as he took a sip of pumpkin juice. The Slytherin table had gone quiet. Something was up.

           "I hear you've gone traitor, Malfoy. I hear you ran from the Dark Lord. That true?" Draco turned around in calculatedly lazy motions. In front of him loomed the massive bulk of Malcolm Baddock.

           "I beg your pardon, Baddock?" he questioned softly. People in the immediate area began to tense. They knew Draco's tone meant business, and weren't in the mood to get caught in the crossfire.

           "You heard me, Malfoy. You're a coward. We don't like cowards."

           Draco laughed mirthlessly, then immediately sprang into action. He jumped up from his seat with the strength and grace of a tiger, grabbed Baddock by the throat and threw him against the wall. By now Draco was sure everyone was watching, and that was the way he wanted it. They needed to know that Draco Malfoy was better than them. They needed to know where they stood.

           "Listen to me, Baddock, and listen closely. If you ever stick your nose in my business again, I will personally rip out your intestines, tie them to a horse and let it run," he spat dangerously. Malcolm's breath hitched in his throat. Draco's normally neutral exterior was twisted with rage, and his irises looked like thunderheads. "You thought you could march up to me and make yourself look tough, did you? It's filth like you I am ashamed to call Slytherins. Nobody... fucks... with... me... Baddock." Sweat was beading on Malcolm's forehead as a result of his efforts to get away, but Draco was too strong. Where Malcolm had general bulk, Draco had hard muscle. He didn't stand a chance, and now he knew it. "Do we understand eachother?"

           "Ye-yeah, Malfoy. We understand eachother," he whimpered painfully. Draco's eyes glinted with dark amusement.

           "Good," he replied as he dropped him to the floor. Draco turned around to survey the rest of the Great Hall. Everyone was watching, except Dumbledore, who was enraptured in his ice-cream sundae. Professor McGonagall looked like murder, but Snape held her back. He knew the way Slytherin politics worked. It was best to deal with punishments and reprimands in private. Draco fixed everyone in his House with a glare. "Does anyone else have anything they wish to say to me? Any problems they'd like to work out?" Everyone looked at their plates. Even Pansy. "No? Then I suggest you go back to your meals," he said as he turned and stalked out of the Great Hall, cloak billowing behind him. Even before he was gone, he could hear the roar of discussion he left in his wake. He was quite pleased with himself. He made his way to the Head common room, only to find the portrait empty. He growled irritably.

           "Draco? Are you, er, alright?" Hermione asked tentatively. Draco spun around in surprise. He would have thought that after that speech he'd just given, his welfare would be the last thing on her mind. What did this mean? She wanted gossip? No, Hermione wasn't like that. He knew that, now. Was she trying to care again? Draco wasn't sure what to think.

           "Yes," he said slowly, as if he were speaking to a two year-old. She blushed and looked away.

           "It's just that, I thought you might be a little upset, after having to deal with Malcolm. I know how you hate answering questions about Voldemort," she said bitterly, then mentally slapped herself. She knew how Draco would react even before he spoke.

           "Well, I'm fine, Granger. Why don't you go mother Potter and the Weasel. I'm sure they have some emotional wounds that need tending to," he replied icily. With that he stormed off in the opposite direction, missing the angry tears that welled up in Hermione's eyes.

           "Screw you, Malfoy!" she screamed after him. He didn't turn back.

* * *

A/N: *ducks* Don't pelt me with rotten cabbages! If Draco seems to have taken a swing into OOC-ness, sorry! I personally think he would use a kamikaze curse if it was going to get revenge on tons of people he hated, and give him a hell of a lotta recognition after death. I really do. As for his Baddock bashing....I just couldn't resist.

Hermione seem too weepy to you? That's because she's a confused 17 year old. She likes him and hates him and it's driving her crazy. That's my excuse, lol. Even smart people act like idiots when emotions are involved.

Anyway, was this chapter confusing? Do you all understand the last chapter, now?

Here's a re-cap: Draco had a prophetic dream that told him if he did something for the Light, he would die and so would Voldemort and his followers. Slytherin told him about a very interesting kamikaze curse. The meeting with Hermione last chapter strengthened his resolve to use it. It's very simple, really.

The argument with Harry and Ron didn't fit in this chapter. I wanted to end it here. The next chapter will skip ahead to October. Hermione gets suspicious about some research Draco is doing, Draco contacts Voldemort, the cliche Hallowe'en Ball is held(major D/Hr-ness), and THEN Hermione gets into a little spat with Ron. I can't wait to write this chapter!!!! But, my fic will probably only last a maximum of four more chapters, if that. It doesn't continue through a really long time-frame.

Guys.....did this chapter suck? If it really sucked, I'll re-write it. REVIEW!!!!

~May