Heart of Ice

Draco gave the library a quick scan, and was pleased to see that he was the only student present. He had convinced Professor Snape to let him serve his detention putting library books away, allowing him an excellent opportunity to look up information on Multus Abi. Waiting until Madam Pince stepped out for a moment, Draco swiftly whipped out his wand and headed to the Restricted Section.

The smell of old parchment was thick in the air here, and Draco found it oddly comforting, like the volumes of ancient knowledge in the room were encouraging him to do what he must. After whispering a simple locating charm, Draco followed the shaft of white light that shot from his wand until it stopped at a thick old tome with a crumbling leather cover. A smirk tugging at his lips, Draco pocketed his wand and gently pulled the book from its nook, sliding to a sitting position on the floor as he did so. He knew he had his invisibility cloak with him, so he could leave whenever he pleased. A little bit of research now wouldn’t hurt. Closing his eyes, Draco focused on the words Multus Abi with all his being, and flipped open the book to where the spell was--hopefully--mentioned. Another handy trick that Dumbledore had taught him. He began to read the page his Gift had revealed.

‘Spells of Mass Destruction; Category 13; Multus Abi

Multus Abi was created by world renowned Dark Wizard, and Founder of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Salazar Slytherin. Little has been revealed about the circumstances surrounding the creation of the curse, and it is only known to have been successfully cast three times throughout history. The first was by Tybalt the Tyrannical in 1200A.D, the second by Octavius Marquay in 1431A.D, and the third by Belle Defeu in 1715A.D. (For more information on these events, read ‘The History of Wizard Warfare,’ by Bindewall Binns.)

The spell works by draining every trace of magic from the witch or wizard who casts it, and converting it into a powerful wave of destructive energy, killing every human being within an indefinite radius. As such, the reach of the spell depends solely on the magical strength of the caster. Because no witch or wizard is able to survive without the magic that naturally flows through their veins, none have cast Multus Abi and lived to tell the tale. It is for this reason that Multus Abi has been controversially classified as a Category 13 spell: the highest level of magical advancement.’

Draco read on, and found that the next page contained a detailed description of how to perform Multus Abi, taken from the writings of Salazar Slytherin himself. Draco wasted no time in ripping out the parchment and placing it neatly in his bag.

“How dare you vandalize that book!” came a furious voice. Draco was extremely startled, but years of training as a Malfoy hid it well for him. He very slowly and deliberately stood up, raising his gaze to meet that of the intruder. Draco squinted slightly in the darkness.

“Hermione?” he asked warily, his stomach filling with a warmth that was becoming all too familiar to him. His query was met with an indignant huff.

“Don’t you ‘Hermione’ me! I saw you rip out that page, and you’re going to put it right back this instant!” Yes, it most certainly was Hermione, Draco thought wryly. After whispering Lumos, Draco took a few steps towards her, noting the way the top buttons of her blouse stretched enticingly across her chest. He caught her beautiful chocolate eyes with his grey, and she bit her lower lip nervously. The silence was deafening. “I–I mean it, Malfoy! Put it back, or I’ll report you to Dumbledore. Honestly! The Head Boy sneaking into the Restricted Section, and--”

“Aren’t we the little hypocrite,” Draco remarked quietly. His eyes were drawn to her tender lips as she unconsciously wetted them with the tip of her tongue, and before he knew what he was doing he had moved to close the small distance between them. Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat. They were standing so close now, she could feel the body heat emanating off him. She took a step back, still unable to look away from his molten orbs of silver, and found herself pressed against a tall bookcase. She was trapped, and looking up at the beautiful man before her, she wondered if there was anywhere else she’d rather be. Draco, being as intuitive as he was, picked up on this instantly. He smirked and advanced further, planting his palms against the shelves behind her, their foreheads nearly touching now. Hermione’s heart and thoughts were racing. What was she doing? This was Draco Malfoy, the guy who said he agreed with Voldemort’s cause! She felt Draco’s hot tongue dart across her lower lip, and she couldn’t stop a small moan from escaping her.

“Draco, please, we really shouldn’t--”

“Shh.” He quieted her with his lips on hers. As they kissed, Hermione feared she would drown in the sweet taste of him, losing herself to a realm she never intended to enter, where only he could reach her, where only he could touch her. . .

Attempting to gather her wits, Hermione dropped her bag on the floor with a bang and pushed her hand against Draco’s chest, breaking their kiss. She tried desperately to focus on anything but the feel of the toned muscles beneath his shirt, or his soft, sensuous lips that had been locked on hers only moments ago. “What were you researching, Draco?” she asked breathily, the effects of Draco’s closeness evident in her voice. His eyes flickered slightly, and Hermione felt her stomach clench with worry. She couldn’t say how, but she knew that whatever he was about to say, he would be lying.

“Nothing important,” he murmered without missing a beat, leaning forward and nibbling her ear delicately. Oh, God. . . She forced herself to jerk away before she lost control of the unfamiliar emotions and sensations whirling through her, and shoved him back forcefully.

“Draco, stop trying to distract me. You’re up to something,” she stated, narrowing her eyes in a look that was half angry, half concerned. Draco’s amorous mood was instantly broken by her accusation. Silently cursing himself for losing control in the first place, he retreated from her desirable warmth and scowled dangerously.

“My business is my own, Granger. I advise you to keep that in mind in the future.” He then gathered his things and stormed out of the library. Hermione watched him leave sadly, mourning more than just the loss of his physical closeness. She felt like he was impossible to get to know, and for some unfathomable reason, she wanted to know him more than anything. She wanted to know what he was feeling. . .if he felt anything. What on Earth was wrong with her? Why did she have this urge to know everything there was to know about Draco Malfoy? She knew that what had just occured meant nothing more to him than a step towards making her one of his conquests.

Sighing, and feeling like a complete idiot, Hermione picked up her bag and headed to the Gryffindor common room. Maybe Harry, Ron and Ginny could cheer her up. Either way, she knew her life had just become much more complicated. And he’d taken the parchment, too. Slytherin bastard.

* * *

The skeletal limbs of the trees cast menacing silhouettes against the inky night sky, and the wind whispered ghostly protests against his intrusion in the woods. Most students would have been afraid to enter the Forbidden Forest on an eerie night like this, but Draco was in his element. Once he was past the gnarly old oak tree that he knew marked the anti-apparition boundary, he removed his invisibility cloak, shrunk it, and placed it in his pocket. Draco then took a deep breath, pulled out his wand and yelled, “Apparate!”

Instantaneously, he arrived in the front hall of Malfoy Manor.

“Master Draco! You should not be being here, Master Draco! Master Malfoy and his friends are here, Master Draco!” cried a small, wrinkly house-elf. Draco ignored her warnings and stormed through the halls of his home, heading for the underground Death Eater meeting room. He stopped in front of the old wooden door, and performed all the un-locking charms that it required. It flew open, causing a resounding ‘crash’ upon impact with the stone wall behind it. The room was full of black-cloaked figures. Silent, black-cloaked figures, each of them with their wands drawn and pointed in his direction.

“Draco!” one of them snarled hatefully. Draco recognised the man’s voice to be his father’s.

“Hello Lucius, Death Eaters,” Draco paused when he spotted the red-eyed figure in the center of the room, “Lord Voldemort.” Voldemort smirked and clucked his tongue, his red eyes glowing with evil laughter.

“Young Mister Malfoy,” the Dark Lord said by way of greeting, “What an unexpected surprise. Now, we don’t have to track you down to kill you.” Draco felt a moment of panic. If he was killed before he could instigate his plan for revenge, it would really put a damper on his spirit. Draco responded quickly.

“Killing me will not be neccessery, My Lord. I have reconsidered my decision not to join your ranks of servants,” he said cooly. Voldemort raised his brow thoughtfully and took a step towards him.

“Really?” he hissed. “Or maybe you have joined the ranks of those Muggle-loving fools, who are loyal to Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter, hmm?” Draco rolled his eyes, the scorn on his face genuine. As if he would ever be loyal to Dumbledore and Harry Potter!

“Please. They are fools, My Lord. I have always believed this, as I am sure my father could tell you.”

“You could be lying.” Draco nodded. This was the most risky part of his plan. If things didn’t go quite as he wanted them to, all would be lost.

“There is a very simple way to find out why I am suddenly prepared to pledge myself to a lifetime of servitude, My Lord. Simply put me under the Veritas curse. I have nothing to hide.” A murmer of approval spread through the room, and Voldemort nodded cruelly. The Veritas curse did not only make one incapable of lying, but it caused a great amount of pain as well. The Dark Lord lifted his arm and pointed a crooked finger at Draco.

“Veritas!” he shouted. Draco felt a vice of fire clamp around his lungs, constricting him painfully, burning him from the inside out. It was painful, but Draco had much experience with such things. It was painful. . .but, tolerable. “Why are you going to join us, Draco Malfoy?” Voldemort asked amusedly. Draco delivered the well worded speech he had already rehearsed:

“You know that my mother passed the gift of being a Seer to me. What you do not know is that I have made my first prophecy already. This prophecy showed me that if I were to aid the Light Side, I would die. I would never die for a cause I do not believe in.” Draco’s voice came out loud, cool and clear, despite the effects of the Veritas curse. “The prophecy said I would die if I aided the Light Side,” he repeated, “So, I now want to become a Death Eater.”

Voldemort grinned wickedly, and for a moment Draco feared that he had seen through his explanation, seen that while he had technically spoken no lies, the over-all picture was entirely mis-leading. Then, Draco felt the pain leave his body, and knew that the Veritas curse had been lifted. He noted with great surprise that Voldemort looked pleased. No, pleased would be an understatement. Voldemort was ecstatic.

“So, ‘the Dragon stays shrouded in dark’, does he? ‘The sun will cease to rise.’” Voldemort mused. Draco wondered what the hell he was talking about. “Excellent. Draco Malfoy, you shall be initiated--”

“With all due respect, My Lord, I refuse to be initiated at the Group Initiation Ceremony. As a Malfoy, I should be initiated semi-privately, as was going to be done last time,” Draco said in his usual arrogant, demanding manner. Voldemort’s face darkened.

“You dare to interrupt me, boy?!” he growled. Draco held his gaze, refusing to show weakness. “You were to be initiated in your own ceremony, before you dared to speak to me in so insolant a manner. However, now your initiation will take place at the Christmas Day Group Ceremony. If you dare to voice your opinion on the matter again, I will not hesitate to kill you. Am I making myself clear?” he asked dangerously. Draco nodded shortly, with just enough shame on his face to please the Dark Lord. “Good. Now, go back to Hogwarts, before Dumbledore suspects something.” Draco nodded again, and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Once he was safely out of Malfoy Manor and on Hogwarts grounds, Draco allowed himself a small leap of triumph. He had done it. He had played Voldemort for a fool. Not only was he going to be able to kill Voldemort and his inner circle on his ‘initiation day’, but every single Death Eater alive. The Christmas Day Group Ceremony was the day when all Death Eaters had to be present, to see the next generation of Dark Followers join the ranks. And they were all going to die.

Draco was sure that this Christmas would be the best of his life. The fact that it would also be his last did not bother him in the least.

* * *

Draco adjusted his long black cape, took one last glance in the mirror, (which declared him astoundingly attractive), and made his way to the Great Hall. It was finally Hallowe’en. Tonight was the night of the Ball he and Hermione, with the help of the Prefects, had painstakingly organized over the last couple of months. The Hall was already full by the time he arrived, and with the added sensitivity his Gift gave him, the excitement in the air was almost palpable. Draco personally didn’t know what all the fuss was about. He wouldn’t have even bothered coming if it weren’t for the fact that he was Head Boy, and Dumbledore had insisted.

Draco smirked at a group of giggling Sixth Years who gawked at him as he swept past. Well, maybe this wouldn’t be all bad. If there was one thing Draco did enjoy about these occasions, it was the attention his good looks always got him. Tonight, he was dressed in all black vampire attire, with the only colour being the dark green silk lining on his cape. As usual, the contrast between his platinum hair, silver eyes and the black of his clothes was breathtaking. If anyone else had been wearing this outfit, words like ‘predictable’ and ‘cliche’ would have been heard. When Draco wore it, words like ‘sexy’and ‘alluring’ rolled off the tongues of drooling young women everywhere.

Suddenly, Draco felt his attention drawn towards the entrance to the hall. His eyes strayed in that direction, seemingly of their own volition, and Draco felt his mouth go dry. Standing there was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen in all his life. Her thick brown hair hung in curls that came to halfway down her back, framing a face that radiated with natural beauty. A crown of ivy rested delicately on top of her head, giving her a stunning, earthy look. Her entire dress was made of flowing, cream-toned silk that hung off her every curve, except for a band of loose, pale-green silk that fell across her chest and off her shoulders. She smiled and waved to the Headmaster across the room, and Draco felt his stomach flutter. Instantly, he knew who it was. Only one girl’s smile had ever been able to affect him like this.

He turned away before anyone noticed his moment of weakness, and walked over to a crowd of Slytherins who were beckoning to him. These strange feelings were getting to be ridiculous. He would have to avoid Hermione Granger at all costs from now on. It was bad enough that he had opened up to her, then impulsively kissed her in the library. Nothing Draco Malfoy did had been impulsive before Hermione came along. This new-found lack of control around her made him feel vulnerable. If there was one useful thing Draco had learned from his father, it was that anything that made you feel vulnerable needed to be disposed of as soon as possible. Draco frowned subconsciously. Well, he certainly couldn’t dispose of her. In fact, if he ever heard of anyone laying so much as a finger on her, they would quickly find themselves dead. He would just have to stay away from her. It wouldn’t be very hard to avoid her after Christmas, Draco thought to himself wryly. Then, he’d be dead.

“Hello, Drakey,” came an annoying, tinny voice. Pansy. Ugh. Scantily clad in a red devil costume that had to be two sizes too small for her, she sashayed up to Draco and smiled sweetly. “Daddy tells me you’ve come back to us,” she whispered, as she traced the muscles of his chest with her black claws. “I can’t tell you how happy I was to hear that. He says I can fuck you again, if I want to.” Draco would have been extremely taken aback by that remark if it had come from anyone else, but he’d always known Pansy was a whore. Hermione wouldn’t dream of saying something so cheap. He narrowed his eyes dangerously.

“Parkinson, I wouln’t fuck you again if you were the last woman alive. I only screwed around with you in Fifth Year because I didn’t know any better at the time. Hopefully this is the last time I have to say this: stay away from me.” Pansy blinked up at him dumbly for a second, then an outraged look came over her. She scowled and stepped away from him.

“You’re going to regret talking to me this way, Drakey. One day you’ll want me and I won’t be there! I won’t put up with your games forever!” Draco laughed coldly.

“Games? What games? There is no game, Parkinson. I simply despise you. End of story.” Pansy made a cry of protest in her throat, which Draco ignored as he made his way over to a rather attractive Ravenclaw blonde leaning against the wall. If he had to be here, he was going to enjoy himself. He approached her and smiled one of his charming smiles. “Care to dance?” She blushed prettily and nodded. And as he danced with her, he couldn’t keep a certain beautiful Gryffindor brunette out of his mind.

* * *

Hermione plastered a smile on her face as she approached Harry, Ron, Lavender and Parvati. As usual, she had been overlooked by the male half of the Hogwarts population, and was once again dateless. She caught a glimpse of platinum blonde hair across the room and forced herself to ignore it. She had to stop this obsession over Draco Malfoy before people became suspicious. He was evil, and cold, and manipulative, and there was no reason at all for her to like him. At all. Period.

Except, he had the most beautiful eyes, and he sure could kiss...

“Hey Hermione. Holy crap! You look amazing!” Lavender gushed enthusiastically. The others nodded their agreement while Hermione blushed.

“Yeah, you definitely do the title of Head Girl proud,” Harry added with a smile. Hermione nearly grimaced in response. Of course. That was the only reason Hermione Granger would ever want to look pretty: for the sake of her title as Head Girl. She couldn’t possibly want to be noticed by a boy for once, as nothing but a girl. Hermione wasn’t an idiot. She knew she was reasonably attractive, and her looks weren’t the problem. It was her reputation, and her intelligence. Boys were intimidated by her. Oh, well. The only boy she wanted was unattainable anyway, she reasoned.

“Thankyou, Harry,” she said pleasantly, with a small smile. They made idle conversation for a moment, before the two couples thoughtlessly took to the dance floor, leaving a distraught Hermione behind.

* * *

The dance continued, and the glances that Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger continued to sneak eachother while they each danced with various other people went unnoticed by all. Except Albus Dumbledore, of course. He was quite aware of the hidden desire between the two, and deep within the mysterious confines of his great mind, a plan was forming. He turned his attention to his immediate left, where Severus, (who had refused to dress up), and Minerva, (who had shocked everyone by coming as the Bride of Frankenstein, hair and all), were squabbling as usual. Dumbledore’s eyes began to twinkle mischievously. Ah. Perfect.

The Great Hall quieted as the Headmaster stood up on a table in the middle of the room, looking very odd indeed in the attire of a Muggle rapper. He cleared his throat, and muttered ‘Sonarus’. “Pardon me for interrupting. First off, I would like to say. ‘Not to worry.’ The Ball is only half over.” A collective sigh of relief went through the crowd of costumed students. “I would like to take this opportunity to congratulate you all on your wonderful costumes, and to remind you that prizes will be awarded at the end of the night under several different categories. Also, I would like to thank our Prefects, and especially our hard working Head Boy and Girl, for organizing this event for our enjoyment.”

A great round of applause erupted at this, and Dumbleore smiled happily. “Now, I thought it would be fun to mix up the dance partners for a song or two!” The students groaned. They should have known something was up by the gleam in his eyes. Dumbledore remained seemingly ignorant to their protests. “I will wave my wand, and a spark will appear drectly in front of each of you. Follow your spark until it stops. Whoever you find yourself in front of will be your partner for the next dance. If you do not dance with your newly appointed partner for at least one song, the spark will attack you. Starting, now!”

He waved his wand, and the Great Hall lit up with hundreds of colourful floating sparks. The students began to move instantly, fearing the wrath of the firey orbs. Dumbledore then discreetly swished his wand at Draco, Hermione, Snape, and McGonagall. Smiling in satisfaction, he hopped nimbly off the table and followed his own spark to Sybill Trelawny, who made a very interesting dragonfly. She raised a knowing eyebrow at him from behind her enormous bug-eye glasses. “My Third-Eye sees the mischief you have caused tonight,” she said amusedly. “Must you always be so meddlesome?” Dumbledore pretended not to hear her. With another wave of his wand, a slow song was blaring through the Hall.

He turned to his long-time friend with innocent eyes. “Shall we dance?”

* * *

Draco scowled at the little green spark in front of him, and leaned against the wall irritably. He certainly wasn’t going to go searching for his dance partner. They could bloody well come to him. He looked around through his cold eyes, and smirked at the chaos the Headmaster had caused. He watched a very bewildered Snape and McGonagall, as they tried to ignore eachother, then were viciously attacked by their sparks. They attempted to run away, but quickly found that the sparks only backed off once they began to dance with eachother. Wait...were they blushing?! Draco squinted slightly in disbelief. They were blushing!

“Er...Dra–Malfoy?” A soft voice interrupted his thoughts. He turned towards it, and felt the blood drain from his face. It was her. “I think, er, that is, my spark brought me to you,” she stammered, flushing with embarrassment. Draco met Hermione’s nervous gaze, and couldn’t help himself. He smiled.

The trouble with love is

It can tear you up inside

Make your heart believe a lie

It's stronger than your pride

Hermione’s eyes widened in disbelief. He was smiling. He was smiling at her. A real, genuine smile. So, he wasn’t angry with her? Maybe he wanted to dance with her as much as she wanted to dance with him? “Well,” he drawled, “we had better dance. Snape and McGonagall tried to avoid dancing with eachother, and it wasn’t pretty.”

Hermione felt her heart sink to her feet. Oh. Forcing back tears and not trusting her voice, Hermione simply nodded in response. Draco walked up to her and placed his hands on her hips, and Hermione’s arms instinctively found themselves around his neck. She tried to remember that they could never be together, and that he felt absolutely nothing for her, but with the music they were playing, and the romantic atmosphere, it was just so damned hard. When he drew her closer, she couldn’t stop her eyes from fluttering shut, or her forehead from coming to rest against his broad chest.

The trouble with love is

It doesn't care how fast you fall

And you can't refuse the call

See you've got no say at all

Draco didn’t know whether to thank Dumbledore or curse him. On one hand, the girl who he had been longing for all night was finally in his arms. On the other hand, that feeling was back again, fluttering around his chest and stomach incessantly. That God-damned feeling that was stronger than lust and about a thousand times more painful. He unconsciouly drew her closer. This was ridiculous. He was Draco Malfoy! Emotions like this had no business in his life. Besides, she was just like all the others, right? She didn’t give a shit about him. She was just taken with his looks, like everyone else in the world. Draco looked down, as she rested her head against his chest, and sighed inwardly. He knew that if they were seen like this there would be hell to pay.

The song finally ended, and Draco and Hermione parted. She opened her mouth to say something, but Draco didn’t stick around to hear it. Not bothering to give her an explanation, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the Great Hall. He’d had enough of this. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take before he did something stupid like kiss her again.

Hermione watched him leave with hurt in her eyes. Well, you already knew he was disgusted by the thought of dancing with you, a voice chided her. Hermione knew the voice was right. Shaking her head at her heart’s inability to face reality, she walked back over to where her friends were sitting. This time, it was only Harry, Ron, and Ginny.

“Hey, Hermione,” Ginny said brightly. “Enjoying the dance?” Hermione unknowingly scowled.

“Yes,” she replied shortly, as she took a swig of Ron’s butterbeer. Harry and Ginny exchanged knowing looks behind her back.

“So, who did you end up dancing with?” Harry asked innocently. Hermione looked up at him sharply.

“Malfoy,” she answered, trying to sound light. It came out as wistful to the trained ear. Ron’s eyes widened at this, and he turned to her incredulously.

“You’re kidding!” he spluttered. She looked down at her lap and shook her head ‘no’. “Wow, rotten luck, ‘Mione.” Suddenly, she stood up, knocking over the butterbeer in the process.

“I’m not feeling so good,” she mumbled, before storming out of the Great Hall. Her friends watched her leave with varied expressions. Ron’s brow was furrowed in thought, Harry looked disturbed, and Ginny looked resigned. Ron was the first to speak.

“Hermione’s been acting sort of strange lately, you know.” He paused thoughtfully. “This is going to sound really odd, but I think it might have something to do with Malfoy.” Harry and Ginny rolled their eyes at this.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Harry muttered. Ron glanced up confusedly.

“You mean, you two know what’s going on?” Ginny nodded.

“I noticed it at the beginning of the year. I can’t believe you didn’t notice. I mean, you’re her best friend!” she said a bit chidingly. Ron ignored her and narrowed his eyes at Harry.

“You knew about this, and didn’t tell me?” Harry shrugged and continued to stare off into space. “I can’t believe this. Malfoy has been doing something to ‘Mione and you haven’t put an end to it?! He could be putting her under the Imperius curse, or blackmailing her, or--”

“It’s nothing like that, Ron!” Ginny snapped irritably.

“Well, what the bloody-fucking-hell is it, then?!” Ron growled frustratedly. Harry finally ended his stare-off with nothing and turned to his friend with grim eyes.

“It’s much worse than any of that. I. . .I think she’s falling in love with him.” Ron’s face paled, and his mouth hung open stupidly for a moment. Then, he stood up and began to walk away. Harry and Ginny exchanged panicked looks and jumped up after him, grabbing his arms.

“What are you doing?” Ginny asked worriedly. Ron’s face was eerily calm, and she knew this was a bad sign.

“I’m going to kill Malfoy,” he stated matter-of-factly.

* * *

AN: *does happy dance* I FINISHED IT!!!

Okay, please do not kill me for the fluff in this chapter. It was totally neccessery. I couldn’t avoid romance forever, right? The song was ‘The Trouble With Love’, from Kelly Clarkson’s album, which is awesome, btw.

So, *sighs*, did I do really badly? Was it craptacular? I hope not. I had a ton of fun writing this chapter, and the image of Dumbledore dressed up as a rapper, dancing with Trelawny dressed as a dragonfly, will be with me forever. Lol.

So, R&R, alright? Reviews make me write! Well, technically my strange creative urges make me write, but reviews make me post. *wink*

Oh, and does anybody have any cool ideas for a one-shot fic or anything? I finally wrote one, and I’ve decided that they’re addictive. If you have any ideas for a one shot you’d let me write, include it with your REVIEW. Lol.

~May