Transi de Froid

by Incitata
 
 

Chapter 6
After Midnight
 

"Parallax: 1.An apparent change in the position of an
object from a change in the position of the observer."
Collins English Dictionary
 

A mismatched crowd of students and teachers gathered in the grounds of the school near Hagrids
hut. They clustered around a large brazier absorbing the pleasant warmth that rose from the pale
green flames that licked and crackled through holes in the sides, waiting patiently while Hagrid made
last minute preparations for the display. Ron and Harry stood a little way off, not close enough to
the heat for Ron’s liking.

Ron dug his hands deeper into his pockets. "She’s not coming," he moaned glancing once again
toward the school.

"That’s getting really boring, Ron," said Harry. "Just go and find her."

"Look what happened last time I tried that," Ron complained kicking snow off the toes of his shoes.
"Did you hear what Ginny heard?"

"Yeah, I heard and I still think it’s a load of rubbish," said Harry, Ron glared at his friend. "Come
off it Ron, she’d have to be off her head, or do you think he’s using Unforgivables on her?"

"That’s not funny, Harry …"

"Or drugged her?" Harry teased. " Yeah, that’s it. Malfoy got Snape to whip up a potion and …"

"Harry," Ron warned, he really wasn’t amused to find his best friend saying all the things he feared
the most. There was no way of knowing without asking Hermione. Right now Ron could hardly bear
to look at Hermione, just in case he said something that he might regret. Yet he wanted to talk to her
and to find out what was going on. If she needed to be rescued he wanted to be the one to do it.

"Shut up, Harry!" Ron snapped. Clearly he didn’t see how serious this was (of course it may have
been that Harry thought the whole idea was so ludicrous that it could be nothing but one big joke),
there was no malicious intent but Ron didn’t see that.

Harry didn’t understand, he had Cho; if he’d asked Hermione Harry could probably have had her
too. But he was standing there looking gormless and cracking lame jokes at Hermione’s expense.
Ron might be angry at Hermione but that didn’t change the way he felt; he would still defend her,
against anyone.

"I was joking Ron," Harry protested. Ron stared for a moment at the bewildered looking Harry
then stormed away into the night muttering foul words beneath his breath.

He reached the cover of the trees as the first jet of stardust streamed into the air with a screech
and burst into a vast umbrella of pink and blue.

~0~

"If you love me tell me, and hang the consequences, if not, just stop!"

A flash of blue turned her hair for just one second into a bright halo but Hermione’s words rang
clear above the cracks and howls of fireworks that echoed across the lake.

An ultimatum. Surely she hadn’t meant to say that. There were certain rules that served Draco
well in arguments, appear angry if necessary but never lose your temper, never declare love or
hate and never issue an ultimatum. But there it was.

"If you love me tell me, and hang the consequences, if not, just stop!"

A slow thin smile spread across Draco's face. "What precisely do you expect me to say?" he
didn't take his eyes off her as beneath the passive exterior his mind worked feverishly to find the
right words. He continued in the same low tone that he knew she couldn’t resist. "How could I
ever say I loved you, Hermione?" he lowered his gaze to where his hand lay, flat on the crisp
white table cloth.

Draco remembered well her words given in anger out by the lake on the morning after. One
minute then would have saved her all this trouble. One minute would have resolved everything
and they would not be in this mess; he on the verge of betraying his family and she on the verge
of betraying her friends. If she had listened to him for just one minute she would have understood
it all when in an uncharacteristic moment of mercy he attempted to end the charade. But she
wouldn't listen, even after that impulsive kiss. It was always going to lead here.

"I don’t love you Draco, I never will."

Very slowly Draco stood; he approached Hermione with predatory grace. He had her mute
attention, rabbit eyes caught in the bright glare of his own. It may have been entirely his imagination
but when Hermione was angry tiny orange flecks seemed to glow through the warm brown of her
eyes. He liked to provoke her just to see those sparks of indignant rage flare and fade. She was
angry now.

"You don't love me, you said so yourself." Draco stopped, just inches in front of her. Her eyes
betrayed her passion, it was there almost equal to his own but badly controlled and unwanted.
Perhaps, when that feeling was freed and consumed, perhaps then she would not love him quite
as much.

In one easy fluid movement Draco fell to his knees. He grasped her hands and gazed up at her
in apparent adoration. "Am I to lay myself at your feet and beg for something that you claim will
never be?"

"I'm being serious, Draco," spat Hermione. Her hair fell about her face as she looked down.
Draco rather thought that he liked it that way. "I don't know what you're trying to do to me but I'm
not playing anymore. Stop being so bloody sarcastic and say what you mean. I love you Draco
though it pains me to say it. No more lies, no more games. I love you."

His gaze did not waver. "And I you, my dear." He drew her down, forcing her to her knees,
pulling her into a long deep kiss. "And I you."

~0~

"It won't be easy," said Draco eventually. He lay on his back, legs crossed at the ankles, hands
behind his head. Hermione lay against him with her head on his chest, the weight was pleasant.
Her fingers traced little patterns in the fabric of his shirt occasionally dipping in between the buttons
making his breath catch and his skin quiver. "I can't imagine that Weasley will take this very well,
or Potter for that matter," he chuckled, shifting one hand to stroke her hair. He turned his thoughts
to his own friends. "I can see Pansy's face right now. What a picture! By the way you’re right
about her. Absolute gold digger; old name but the family hasn’t got a bean.

"You might still back out you know," Draco continued, wishing wholheartedly that she would,
"I’ll understand. Give me a week and I’ll hate you for doing so, or we could just keep it a secret."

"No," said Hermione, firmly. "I'm not going to sneak round anymore. They’ll understand, they
have to."

"I’m flattered," said Draco pulling Hermione round so that she lay on top of him. "That’s a lot to
risk on me."

"And what are you risking?" asked Hermione.

Draco smiled at that and took a deep breath. "Let me see, I suspect I’ll be disinherited in a flash!
Of course the estate’s entailed, I’ll get the house eventually and Mother has some private money
that I’m sure she’ll send my way. Maybe the old man could do us a favour and drop dead all of
a sudden."

"Draco!" said Hermione, shocked, "Don’t say things like that!"

"You have met my father haven’t you?" Draco raised an eyebrow. "About my height, eyes like
diamonds but a little harder? Rumoured to maintain some rather fundamental views about Mud …
people like you."

"But he’s your father! Surely you love him."

"Now you’re confusing love and respect. There’s an enormous difference. He’s an old bastard,
I don’t have a problem with that. I won’t hear a word said against him but I have no illusions about
him. Something to bear in mind Hermione, lie all you want, to anyone you wish but never delude
yourself, always remember what you are and what other people are."

"I don’t plan to take up wholesale lying any time soon."

You already have, thought Draco, much more than you know. But he didn’t say it. No point
in ruining the atmosphere, sooner or later Hermione would accept what she was becoming and
when she did, then she would be perfect.

"As you wish," Draco yawned, "Just make sure you never, never lie to me," he added for good
measure.

"Why would I?" she asked. Draco merely smiled a very cold smile and closed his eyes.

"It’s late," he said, "We should return to the castle … unless you want to stay here all night."

"I think I’d rather stay here forever than go back along that cliff."

Draco raised himself on his elbows. "Get up and I’ll take us back another way."

Hermione looked puzzled. She got to her feet and began to brush sand off her clothes. "You’re
not old enough to apparate and anyway, you can’t app…"

"Shh!" Draco placed a finger over her lips. "I know all that! I find it very annoying when you
sound like a rule book, please don’t do it anymore," he said tersely as he found his wand.

"Accio," he said lazily, "I know Potter didn’t learn that one by himself." He smirked at Hermione’s
statement then wandered over to the table. He stooped to scrape something off the floor which he
stuffed in a pocket. He felt the half full bottle; "Still cold," he muttered and refilled their glasses; he
brought them back to the mouth of the cave where Hermione stood. The air smelled of sulphur and
octarine as the last of the fireworks zoomed up into the sky

Draco pressed one glass into Hermione’s hand and wrapped his arm about her waist. "Happy
New Year Hermione."

As their glasses clinked the sky exploded with a thousand silver stars that crackled slowly down
to earth.

~0~

Ron didn’t know why he had come here. It was cold and dark. Maybe he was here because it
was where he and Hermione had fallen out. He bent down and gathered handfuls of snow, imagining
it was the head of Draco Malfoy that he compacted between his hands. With a roar he flung it at
the statue of a lady in a tall hat that stood on a pedestal. He rather wished he could have knocked
her hat off.

He bent down to gather more ammo for a second shot. Not hearing the strange sound like waves
lapping over a pebbly shore that filled the clearing. Ron straightened and found himself looking into
the eyes of that lady, they were white and marble but curiously expressive; he could tell immediately
that she didn’t appreciate having snowballs pelted at her head. The snow that should have become
a fresh weapon fell through his fingers to the ground.

"Well, young sir?" she demanded, "Prithee tell why thou dost accost me."

"I, dududududu," Ron mumbled, he didn’t know the statues could move, why did that surprise him.

"Speak clearly young varlet!"

"I didn’t think …"

"That is clear," Lady Murgatroyd (for it was she) leaned forward. Ron wondered what she
could see with those blank eyes. They seemed to scrutinise him. "Why ‘tis the Red Knight."
Lady Murgatroyd straightened and brushed the snow from her hat. Ron didn’t like the way
she continued to glare at him. "Methinks thy Lady is right to spurn thee if this be how thee
greets her."

"You’re mad," muttered Ron under his breath. He’d heard the voice before like a slab of
marble being dragged over gravel. Maybe he was the one going mad. "I don’t have a lady,"
he sighed, "If I had a lady I wouldn’t be here in the middle of the night. I don’t know where
she is …"

"Seekest thou not the heart of the maiden Hermione?" Ron may have imagined it but he thought
the statues voice had warmed a little. "We see much in these places where lovers tryst, but rarely
do we speak. Sir Knight, I see that you are good but a more powerful Knight also seeks the
hand of the Lady; would you fight for her honour without question though all seems lost?"

Why am I standing here talking to a statue? Ron asked himself, how on earth does she know
all this anyway? His mind boggled.

"What do you know about Hermione?" he asked sharply.

"Only that one will win her. The Red Knight and the White Knight, both strong and handsome.
Ahh, how I wish I could see the battle." Her hands were clasped to her bosom and she had adopted
an statement of wistful longing. Ron felt nauseous.

"Thanks, I think." Ron was certain that he hadn’t misunderstood her meaning. White Knight, there
was only one person that statue could mean. "You idiot Hermione! How could you be so bloody
stupid." Ron didn’t know what he was going to do but he knew that he was going to do something.

He left the statue gazing into the night and ran back towards Hagrids hut. As he reached Harry the
sky exploded with a thousand silver stars that crackled slowly down to earth.

"Harry," he gasped, "Hermione! I’ll tell you later"

"You missed the display."

"I know, we’ve got to talk to Hermione, right now." Ron tugged at Harry’s sleeve and dragged
him until he followed willingly. The boys set off at a sprint.

"What is it Ron?" Harry asked again. "Is she in trouble?"

"No time," Ron said determinedly and continued running until they reached the Gryffindor common
room.

~0~

A hiss announced it’s arrival. Draco was ready for it and in seconds his broom was held firmly in
his hand.

"Can I give you a lift back to your tower?" Draco asked with a smirk. Hermione shook her head.
"It’s either that or you use the path, your choice."

"I’ll take the lift, said Hermione. Draco watched as Hermione looked back at the cave. "Shouldn’t
we tidy up or something?"

"Elf’ll do it," without wasting any more time Draco mounted his broom. "Come on then!" he chided
urging the reluctant Hermione to get on behind him.

As soon as she was settle with hands clutched tightly around his waist Draco kicked off and
swooped down over the lake. He knew Hermione wasn’t good at flying and couldn’t resist the
temptation to show off. Her grip tightened.

"Relax," he turned his head back and smiled.

"Watch where you’re going!" squealed Hermione.

"Backseat driver!" he tutted. "I know what I’m doing."

Against the rim of the forest he could see a crowd of people round a fire, two quickly moving
figures caught his eye. He recognised them even from this distance. His father may have bought
him a place on the Slytherin quidditch team but it was his own skill that kept him there. He didn’t
mention what he had seen to Hermione but pushed the broom just a little harder.
 
 

"Which tower?" he asked, unconcerned. "Point it out!"

Hermione extended an arm over his shoulder and indicated a tall tower. Draco nodded and swung
in a great arc round the far side before she had a chance to regain her grip. The fingers of her other
hand dug into his chest, the sensation was not unpleasant. Draco chuckled.

"You’re a very nervous passenger," he remarked over his shoulder, "Just relax! Now tell me which
window you want."

"That one, near the top." Draco slowed the broom and flew in close to the window indicated. He
placed his foot against the wall to steady the broom which yawed a little in the wind. A simple charm
to open the window and rather awkwardly Draco helped Hermione inside. He peered in to the
dormitory shaking his head at the profusion of red velvet and dark wood. While her back was turned
he reached in his pocket and placed something on the cushion of the window seat.

"Now I know where you live," said Draco as Hermione turned back to face the window. He reached
in and caught her hand. "Take care my dear," he said raising it to his lips. "Until tomorrow, I love you."

Without waiting for a response he pushed against the tower wall and spiralled into the air. In truth
Draco didn’t remember another time when he’d said those words and meant them.

~0~

Still breathless, Hermione looked at the space where he’d been, she could still feel his lips on
her hand. Her eyes were drawn to the cushion on which lay the little silver snake he’d given her.
As she reached for it, someone hammered on her door. Quickly she shut the window.

"Come in," she called as she dragged off her cloak and stuffed it under the bed.

Red faced and gasping for breath Ron and Harry tumbled into the room.

"Is it true?" cried Ron, "Hermione, is it true?"
 
 
 

In Part Seven: Vengeance …. a new term and a new year. Nasty surprises all round.

Authors Notes
Octarine: a Pratchetism that sneaked in, first mentioned in The Colour of Magic, if I recall
correctly.

The shortest chapter yet. I’m not sure I liked this one. I find Ron and Harry extraordinarily
difficult to write.

I’m away until after the New Year so Merry Crimble everybody. Please leave a note if you’d
like me to e-mail you when the next part is out. I’ve a feeling this may go on for some time; and
remember, a long fic is for life, not just for Christmas. Seasonal reviews to y’all!

Updates
3rd January 2002: Thanks everyone for your kind beta-ing offers. Chapter seven is nearly ready.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and related characters are and remain the property of J K Rowling,
Bloomsbury or Scholastic Books. Harry Potter characters, names and related indicia are
trademarks of Warner Brothers © 2000/2001. No infringement of copyright is intended by this fic.
 

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Chapter 7