Dramione - Fire and Ice

Chapter 7 (Draco/Hermione)

Halloween was soon approaching and Draco had to grudgingly agree with Potter - this would be a good opportunity for another attack against Hermione. No progress had been made on the identity or identities of her assailants, but there hadn't been much evidence to begin with. 

The only possible clue was finding the wormwood. 

Potter found out Slughorn didn't take regular inventory of the ingredients used for class so there was no way to prove if someone had been stealing. Longbottom informed them this was not an ingredient grown in the Greenhouse, and Hermione had found most potions using wormwood were dangerous but immensely complex - whatever was being brewed would take time. 

The Gryffindor table apprehensively grew accustomed to Malfoy sitting with them, though this trust exercise had to start all over again when Blaise decided "he was bored" and also began sitting at the Gryffindor table. Luna Lovegood was sitting with them too and he listened to her prattle on about the Quibbler when his temper was being tested.

His temper was due to Weaselbee. He had made quite the scene upon finding Draco sitting with them in the Great Hall; McGonagall eventually having to intervene. They ignored each other now, but occasionally the git would mutter under his breath like a coward, or make subtle moves on Hermione. Now that was infuriating. 

But Draco's cold exterior was melting away the more time he spent with Granger.

It was terrifying to discover these emotions existed - that it was possible to care so much for another person. When she had fallen asleep on his chest, he didn't think his heart or mind could take it. And to have been so close to her lips and feel her body on top of his... his heart fluttered anytime the memory snuck into consciousness. He sometimes dreamt of what her lips would taste like, which was preferable to the nightmares. 

All of this was foreign and strange to him. Did everyone go through this when they liked another? He had been hiding behind such rigid boundaries and ideals... associating emotion with a negative connotation... it seemed to be much more potent when he finally allowed it in.

Doubt and uncertainty started to plague him, as he knew it would. He wasn't worthy of her. He didn't deserve her. She wouldn't want him. And if his father knew... if the Deatheaters on the run caught wind of this... he was putting her life at risk. He already was. 

His father's trial should have been weeks ago but it was continuing to get postponed. Draco had the feeling his father was using what little loyalty within the Ministry he had to find loopholes out of his sentencing. It was inevitable how the trial would conclude: with the Dementor's Kiss.

"Draco, are you okay?"

He stepped out of his revere and glanced at Hermione. She started using his first name casually last week, and it jolted him every time she did. 

Her eyes looked worried as she did some finishing touches decorating the trees on the grounds. Tonight there was a Halloween celebration; however, several Aurors would be present. 

"I'm fine," he said, shrugging away her concern. 

She frowned. He didn't talk much on personal matters outside of their common room. 

"They look hauntingly beautiful, Hermione!" said Weaselette, skipping over to them. 

"Thank you," said Hermione with a smile. "What have you been up to?"

"I may have placed a few traps..."

"Ginny!"

"Nothing bad, Hermione, come on now. Just some transfigured hands coming from the ground to trip the occasional victim... or turning one's hair a bright orange..."