Summary: Taking place during Harry Potter and Company's 6th year at Hogwarts, Voldemort has been officially declared back, and he is growing stronger. The Sorting Hat's warnings, attacks on muggles and wizards alike, and foul play lurking inside Hogwarts forces everyone to take caution. A few strong teens might be able to lead the way into a new revolution…or will evil find a way to break young hearts? A Draco/Hermione story.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT own any of J.K. Rolling's works…only my quirkiness.

Flames and Icicles

Chapter One

Twisted Respect, Chess, and Gold String

Draco Malfoy was silent. The rain outside was deafening. Every drop on his second story windowsill echoed throughout the entire manor making it seem utterly empty- just as he liked it. His 5th year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had brought the downfall of his father Lucius Malfoy. A malicious man was the eldest Malfoy, even his only son believed that. He was a man who hated emotion and viewed it as a weakness that was not to be tolerated, but now the famous Harry Potter had brought his arrest to Azkaban. It won't last, he told him self, what with the Dementors going to the Dark Side. He hated the Dementors.

Draco leaned back in his chair and put his book of Higher Level Potions down. He twirled his wand in between his fingers and recalled the last hours of the evening. Narcissa Malfoy had been very quite at dinner, and that was a rare occasion. With Lucius gone she had taken a terrible state of fidgeting and bad nerves. Lines of worry were frequently smudged across the Malfoy wife's face, and this made Draco suspicious. He had a love/hate relationship with his dearest mother. He hated her for being a fool and marrying his father and taking his abuse like it was a normal thing, and still claiming to love the man. Though, he loved her for loving him. When Lucius wasn't around she would treat him like a human being and pushed emotions in his life.

He had failed her at a young age, his father made sure of that. All his emotions were cast aside and he became the power-hungry person who believed that his father did no evil and that he was well above everyone else. A twisted respect, Draco was slowly seeing in his role model. Now, though, Draco was starting to realize that his father was in the wrong.

The rain picked up and lightning streaked the skies. The pale 16 year-old Slytherin stood up and let the black curtains fall over the window. He walked slowly out of his room and down the hall.

"Ello sir, is there some ting I can get you sir?" Mipps, one of the newer house elves, asked shakily.

"No." He growled and walked down the stairs into the family study, even though they hardly ever used it as a 'family'.

The scratching of a quill and rustling of papers wound its way to the young Malfoy's ears. His eyes met the form of his mother writing profusely on a dark red parchment. The worry lines were magnified on her forehead and her usually proper stature was strangely deformed as she hunched over to write faster.

"Mother?"

Narcissa Malfoy literally jumped up. "Yes Draco darling?" She always added the darling when Lucius was not around. She had been 'disciplined' once for calling him such a name and she made sure that would not happen again.

"What is that?" He inquired walking to the desk she sat behind.

"Oh this? It is nothing," She quickly said. "Just a letter to an old friend." With that she rolled the parchment up and tied it with a gold string.

"Gryffindor colors." He said in a disgusted tone.

Narcissa looked up at him for a moment then back to the letter. "Oh, how strange." And then in an after thought, "I hadn't noticed." She got up and walked into the next room saying that Corsica, her owl, would have to take her letter tomorrow, when the rain stopped.

He looked after the dark-haired woman and wondered what that was all about; he knew she had no friends now. His father would allow no such things, always suspicious of what she did. Another Lucius character flaw.

Draco grabbed another potion's book off of the shelf in the corner and walked unwillingly back to his room. "Great" he thought, "I'm spending the last part of my summer like that bookworm, mudblood Granger."

Many, many miles away sat Hermione Granger with her nose firmly planted in her favorite book- Hogwarts: A History.

"You read too much, you know?" Said Ron next to her as they sat in the Burrow. Hermione had ended up spending most of her summer with the Weasley family. She had broken down and told her parents what had happened with Voldemort coming back into power. She tactfully left out the part about the Department of Mysteries and being attacked by Death Eaters, but she told them that they were in danger being muggles and her being a witch, and being a witch whose best friend was the Boy-Who-Lived. She had spent the first few weeks pleading with them to go into hiding for a while, and reassured them that she would be perfectly safe at the Weasley's and Hogwarts.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger talked it over and could tell how serious their daughter was, and trusted her enough to ask Mrs. Granger's sister if they could stay a while in Spain with her. She heartily agreed, and offered the dentists jobs at a local Dental Care facility she owned, a family trade Hermione assumed. So, with the worry of her parent's well being gone she was halfway relieved…there was still the problem of the Boy-Who-Lived.

Hermione sighed. Harry Potter, although strong and brave, had taken many hits the last 5 years and it all seemed to make a mighty blow when Sirius died- his only hope for some kind of father. He had seemed to be copping with it when they left him at the train station to go home with those nasty Dursleys and when he was brought to the Burrow a few weeks ago, but Hermione knew he was beating himself up about it. He was just that kind of person- noble and almost always feeling guilty.

"Hermione!" Ron said waving his hand in front of the book, yanking her out of her thoughts.

"Yes Ron?" She asked calmly, but snapping her book shut. He had been following her all day and had not ceased insinuating that she was being boring.

"You wanna play some wizard's chess?" He asked with a sneaky grin, knowing he would cream her in it.

"Why don't you ask Harry?" She said annoyed.

He looked down at his sneakers and then twiddled his thumbs. "He won't play with me." This reminded Hermione of what a little boy Ron could be, but she could not help feeling sorry for him…and Harry.

"Ok, Ron, I'll play." She laughed. "But only ONE game."

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The next morning, in a tower of Hogwarts, stood Dumbledore, his eyes sparkling, with a peculiar red piece or parchment and a gold string in his hand.