Bitter Cold

Chapter One

The surprise that overcame him was very much unexpected, like ice water doused over him in an unprepared moment. But then, the surprise in his eyes was shunned out quickly by something far more acceptable, by an expression far less intriguing... indifference. As though a curtain was drawn over his face, the bored, somewhat sneering look returned with a vengeance, completely casting and sweeping off any remnants of the humanizing effects of his previous feeling as though it was never there to begin with.

"Granger," he said casually, silver eyes locked on hers almost reluctantly.

"Hello, Draco," she acknowledged in almost a purr, a small smile pasted on her lips.

There it was again, the feeling of ill-preparedness at the way she readily spoke his name. His first name, as though they were already intimate, as though they were able to be more than what they really were. Though surprise at this, this time he had little difficulty in suppressing his expression of it. He crossed his arms in front of him, one hand still throbbing from the pressure his father had so affectionately given it, and, in a cock-sure, Malfoy way, slid his eyes and raked over her body in one glance.

The time that passed, from the moment they graduated from Hogwarts until a few moments ago, had done her a great deal of... spectacular changes. He had never seen her this bold, this... lovely. The curves of her body were finely revealed in a black fitting gown, curves that almost begged to be kissed and worshipped. Her hair, though loose, was never wild. On the contrary, it looked inviting, alluring to the touches of male hands trying to smoothen it down. And her face... gone was the innocence that shielded her, that protected and claimed her as one of those that belonged to the forces of good. Now, with those wickedly glinting hazel eyes and those pouting, ruby-red lips, the malice that tainted her expression only relayed that she'd strayed from the light... and willingly stayed in the dark. She'd been seduced by darkness, marked by it in many, many ways...

The corners of his lips tugged upwards, and as though he couldn't help it, his eyes assessed and possessed her body once again. The smirk unwillingly became one that expressed his appreciation of the view he was presented with.

Undoubtedly, she saw the smirk and understood its meaning. "I take it you like what you see?" she asked him unhesitatingly, one brow raised slightly, her tone always, always ready for a challenge.

His eyes took hers in. "Maybe," he said in response. "I've always known Gryffindors have their charms, in one way or the other."

"Slytherins can't claim all the rights to it, you know."

"Ah, my son," said Lucius, and Draco looked at him as he had almost forgotten that his father was still there. The older Malfoy smiled at him, almost indulgingly, as though he enjoyed watching the verbal sparring between the two people before him. With any luck, there'd be some sparring between them that would include more than just the verbal kind. "You will take great delight in... working... with Miss Granger here. Her talents are well-known among us all."

Hermione graced him with a smile, her teeth flashing in a pretty way. "Thank you, Lucius. You are too kind," she said, polite until the last word.

"Very well," Lucius nodded at her, and then placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "I shall be retiring now," he said. Then he addressed the crowd around him, whose eyes were quietly on nothing else but onto the three, "Rest assured that the Dark Lord will soon prevail and soon we will be at our rightful place. Good night to you all." And with that, he left them.

Draco followed his father's departure, his disgust of the man very much evident in his eyes. He then glanced at the woman before him, daunted by the fact that she chuckled. "What?"

Hermione cocked her head to one side, her large eyes pensively sizing him up. Then a smile broke free from her mouth. "It seems as though some things do change, Draco," she said, almost sneering her words out. "I've never seen you look at your father the way you just did. I've always thought of you as the whipped, wounded puppy, the one that always looks up at its master in reverence..."

He took a menacing step towards her. "Stop it," he growled low.

Her eyes, innocent and big, stared at him. "Stop what?"

"Stop calling me by my first name," he said, finally expressing what bothered him. "It's not as though we parted as friends, Mudblood."

She arched one brow. "Is this the part where I was supposed to retort by calling you a 'prat' or 'ferret boy' or 'you stupid git'?" Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Draco. What are we, a couple of first years? Of all the immaturities. I'd like to think we're way beyond that."

Draco, unheeding of the consequences, unmindful of the eyes that latched onto them, grabbed her arm and began to drag her out of the room. She patiently humored him, and allowed herself to be dragged out of earshot. "I'd like to think we're not," he told her, once they were in the darkest part of the room, the part where the flare from the fireplace failed to reach them anymore. This part of the room was particularly cold and nasty, but neither acknowledged that. It seemed to be the ideal place for this nice, get-together chit-chat. "What the hell do you think you're doing here, Granger?"

Hermione removed her arm from his tight hold. "What, now it's Granger once again, just when I was getting comfortable with your nickname for me?" she bit out as she rubbed her arm. "Make up your bloody mind, you stupid ferret boy. Call me something constant for a change."

His temper was fraying, and he was constantly battling the urge to gag her. It was almost a losing battle. "I'll ask you once again, and I better get a decent answer out of you: what the hell are you doing here?"

She fought the urge to bare her teeth at him in amusement. "What do you think? That I'm just here to play house and tea and cookies with Voldemort and his Death Eaters? And here I thought, next to me, of course, that you were the brightest student to ever grace the rotten floors of Hogwarts."

Draco leaned in closer to her, his breath dangerously hot and scorching, his breath dangerously close to her face. "So what's this, then? Another chance for you to prove your superiority over me?"

"The fact that I am above you is already a given, Draco. Nothing you or I could do will ever disprove that."

He stopped short from grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her hard enough to make her see stars. Instead, he took a deep, calming breath, and spoke. "You, Hermione Granger. A Death Eater," he said, as he coated his words with enough malice to make them sound so sickeningly sweet. "The girl who proclaimed that she would rather die than be touched by one, now a woman who's been touched by the Dark Lord himself? How completely... ironic."

"Completely unpredictable, I'm sure. We Gryffindors are a volatile lot. So unlike you Slytherins," Hermione grinned at him, and the act would have been considered normal had her eyes been free of the malevolence in them.

"Oh? How so?"

She pointed at the crowd, pointed at them until he reluctantly turned to look himself. "See your groupies of Death Eaters? Tell me, aren't most of your housemates in there? With us? I'm inclined to think that I'm the only one from another house. Slytherins are more than welcomed to join, since it's almost natural for you freaks to end up here. But from the great Gryffindor, your archrival house? Not bloody likely."

A ghost of a smile nearly illuminated Draco's face. "Some things never change, then. You managed to insult us Slytherins while exulting your high and mighty Gryffindor house in one breath." Then a dry chuckle did escape his lips. "Though I would like to warn you, Hermione. You are in our property, our territory. We freaks are all around you. We are a nationalistic lot, us Slytherins. We don't appreciate our house being insulted like that, especially not from upfront Gryffindors such as yourself."

She fluttered her eyes a bit, mouth twisting in a wry smile. "Why, I'm impressed, Draco. I do think that that's the most you've said to me since the moment we became schoolmates. Dare I say that this... partnership... will probably do us both some good?"

Draco stared at her, assessing, calculating, before he slowly shook his head. "I still don't know why you're here and how the hell Voldemort allowed you to join. It seemed to me the master plan was still to kill allMuggles and Mudbloods on sight."

Hermione just shrugged, and then fixed him with a look he cannot comprehend. "You have been away for a while, haven't you? Well, my dear, dear partner. Allow me the pleasure of enlightening you. You see, despite all the bad blood, everything still comes down to one factor: power. The fact that I am more powerful than most wizards and witches, and that I am willing to denounce everything good is almost too enticing an offer, isn't it?"

At that moment, the light in them changed, and that allowed him to catch a glimpse of her body once again. "Enticing," Draco growled out, eyes hardening like chips of rocks in his eyes. "Indeed."