~ ~ Hello darlings. It has been so long, hasn't it? I just haven't been in the correct mood for writing. No motivation for a while, you understand, yes? I am trying to start writing again, my motivation is starting to come back to me, but my procrastination is still very much in tact. I have decided that this little piece should be posted. Hopefully it meets your standards. Just remember, I do not own Harry Potter nor the characters in it. You may continue if you wish... ~ ~
Winter. For many considered a ghastly time of year. With sheer freezing winds that liked to bite at your face until your nose and cheeks are a raw cherry red. Dim gray sky's that make one think a blizzard is lurking right behind them. Snow and ice covered grounds that make feet numb right through people's winter boots and sneakers. Having to wear obnoxious heavy clothing to keep warm just to even run down a driveway to fetch the morning paper and mail.
Yes, winter causes all these types of "inconveniences". Well, to some rather silly people they were inconveniences. But, Hermione Granger had never categorized herself (and no one else for that matter, had either) as a "silly" person. Smart? Yes. Bookworm? Yes. A wonderful child that hasn't a care in the world, not to mention a positively great life? No. And neither was she silly.
Hermione absolutely loved winter! She liked to twirl around in snowflakes as they danced about with the frigid winds. She liked to daringly go out into the cold in the midst of the night until, not only her lips had turned blue, but also until her cheeks looked as if someone had forgotten that blush was supposed to be pink! Perhaps it was because of all her "winter habits" that Hermione was now standing out in the bitter cold nighttime air on the fairly large balcony that was connected onto the Head's living area.
With her black sweatshirt covered forearms resting on the balcony's ice covered rail, Hermione leaned forward to look down. Down, down, down to the ground. As many times as she had come out here before, the girl still couldn't believe how far up off the ground Hogwarts had decided to make their castle. If she were ever to fall (or jump) she'd surely kill herself.
Not that that didn't seem like a good idea at times.
"You cold?" a smooth hush-lee voice asked from behind her back. Hermione turned, her dark ginger brown eyes passed unconcernedly over a tall, muscular looking silhouette in the doorframe that had led her out on the balcony in the first place.
Turning back to looking out around the Hogwarts premises the girl blankly answered the figure. "No, Draco. I like the cold air on me. It's… " Hermione trailed off warily, unable to think of a way to explain it to the stubborn Draco Malfoy. She could easily explain it to herself, nobody else though. The freezing weather made her feel—no that was exactly it! It made her feel.
Suddenly, something heavy, soft, and warm planted itself on her shoulders. Whatever it was, swept down to tickle the backs of her jean-clad knees. Turning ever so slightly to look over her right shoulder, Hermione peered down to stare at a dark green plaid blanket which was thrown neatly over the back of her body. Her dark brown eyes withdrew themselves from the warm (actually great smelling) blanket, to look up at the boy that stood fixedly behind her.
"Thank… you," Hermione mumbled honestly, and raised her dark, neatly plucked eyebrows at him. She had been starting to feel horribly frozen, her lips were probably black she felt so cold! Never the less, Hermione would not have gone to get something to cover herself and was surprised at the sweet gesture from none other than Draco Malfoy. Yes, her and Draco were starting to become more civil toward each other. They spoke politely to one another, but their sentences were always short and to the point. No longer did they call each other rude nicknames such as "mudblood" and "ferret", or even "Granger" and "Malfoy". No. Now they were "Hermione" and "Draco". Both had been rightfully pleased that they no longer resorted to such insulting words toward each other, but even though they were civil, it didn't mean that they had become friends.
Draco nodded ever so slightly, just to acknowledge that he'd heard her. For some odd distant reason, Hermione couldn't stop her gaze from following him all the way around her 'till he stopped beside her, looking out into the distance. Finally, she noticed his clothing choice and considered the idea that Draco Malfoy may be going insane. He'd given a blanket to her when it was he who looked more in need of it. He wore nothing on his feet, no shoes, and no socks, not even slippers! His worn black pajama pants were bunched up at the ankles, for they were to long for him. His white dress shirt, which he'd worn to classes earlier that day, was to long as well, and unbuttoned! All they way down, every single bronze button was unclasped, showing off his insanely toned tummy. Even the ones at his wrists had been forgotten!
"You sure you're not the one who needs this Draco?" Hermione teased lightly, fingering the blanket as she talked. It was so soft!
He made a little grunt noise as a declination and shifted his position so that the middle of his back was pressed up against the icy railing. Wordlessly, Draco scuffled with something in his shirt pocket. A short while later, in his hand was an opened little white box and a silver lighter. He flipped open the small white carton and skillfully pulled out a long thin cigarette with his front teeth. He then snapped his thumb across the switch of the lighter and held the flame to the end of his fag until it caught the bluish looking flame in it's grasp. Hermione heard him suck in a short breath, then watched out of the corner of her eye as he pulled the object from his mouth and exhaled deeply. Smoke, the color of the snow on the ground danced and twirled through the air for a moment, and then seemed to disappear. Draco turned to her and raised a thin blond eyebrow at her. Obviously confused at Hermione Granger for taking such an interest in him as he "lit up". He then held out the carton to her for a moment and Hermione looked down at it questioningly.
"Fag?" Draco Malfoy questioned Hermione in one word.
"I beg your pardon?" the girl shot back with another question of her own.
"Not you, I meant do you want one?" he asked, shaking the box half full of cigarettes for emphasis.
Hermione toyed with the offer for a moment. It wouldn't have been her first time, she had smoked before. Heck! She'd smoked many cigarettes before (or "fags" as Draco so kindly called them). But let Draco Malfoy know? That was another question that needed thoroughly looked toward. Even though she did want to take one, he could really hurt her reputation (and she needed that rep. to hide who she truly was). Hermione'd be willing to bet that he would use this little piece of information against her, because, as you know, they weren't friends.
"Okay," she finally agreed quietly, giving into her desire to have one of the long thin beauty's inside the box. The last time she'd had had one was a long while ago, toward the beginning of the year, when she bummed one off of her friend Harry. Harry was the only one in her small group of friends that knew she smoked once in a while (he'd accidentally caught her lighting an unlit cigarette around the back of the school the year before), and happily allowed her one as long as Hermione didn't tell his girlfriend, Ginny, that he took one every so often. It was a small habit Harry was trying to quit for his girlfriend. Ginny, for some reason, didn't like smokers. Unfortunately, it seemed that Hermione's beloved friend still wasn't able to kick his habit, for she saw him the other day under the archway of one of the schools buildings, exhaling smoke from his nostrils.
Draco pulled a half-smile as she took a cigarette from him. Hermione waited patiently for Draco to hand her his sleek silver lighter. It surprised her when he flipped switch himself, forming that bluish flame again, and motioned for her to lean forward. Delicately, she put the fag between her purple lips and knowingly cupped her hands around the flame as a chilly light breeze blew by. As soon as she saw it catch, Hermione pulled away.
Apparently, it was now Draco's turn to watch her out of the corner of his eye. Hermione, as if she had all the time in the world, drew in a deep, deep breath. She felt a warm feeling taking over her body as she did so, and a light tickling feeling in her chest. Hermione dare not cough though, instead she tried to breath in more and the feeling was instantly rid of. Contently, she pulled the cigarette away from her lips and blew the smoke that had entered her body, back out into the freezing air, feeling like a dragon spitting fire as she did so.
"You smoke often," came the voice of the boy next to her. She watched as he tossed his blond hair away from his face with a swift move of left hand. Something caught the light and winked at her from Draco's pale ring finger.
"Sometimes," Hermione agreed. Shifting position and pressing her back to rest against the frozen railing, the Head girl could feel the icicle fingers against her spinal cord.
"It wasn't a question, Hermione, it was a statement. I can tell from the way you hold the smoke in."
"Is that a concern to you, Draco?" Hermione asked, thoughtfully putting his name in the sentence, trying to annoy him slightly by doing so.
"Yes," she heard him breathe softly.
Hermione focused on him in question. Did Draco Malfoy, actually admit a concern for her? The Head boy flicked the black-gray soot at the end of his cigarette under his arm and off the balcony. Watching it until he could no longer see it, then he indifferently folded his arms across his chest. It defantally didn't look like he'd said something that had caused a sudden burst of hopeful butterflies in her stomach. If he agreed to what she said, wasn't there a small hope that he wouldn't tell anyone of her smelly little habit?
"Did the Draco Malfoy, Slytherin Prince, just say that he was concerned about me?" Hermione mockingly asked. Not wanting to believe a single word that came out of his reputation lying mouth!
All was quiet for a moment. The only thing that was hear was the soft rustle of their "barely there" clothing when they each went to tap the soot away from the shrinking sticks they each held close in their red raw fingers. Hermione jumped at the sudden girlish shriek that erupted from below them and echoed up the tall school castle. She turned again to rest her forearms back into the position they were in before Draco Malfoy had come out baring gifts. The Head girl tapped her fag lightly and watched as a shrieking third year girl was being chased around in the snow by a fourth chuckling fourth year boy. Leaning her head down slightly, Hermione watched the third years straight brown pigtails bobble about underneath a pink wool knit hat.
"I forgot how loud girls can be," came low voiced mumble.
"Hm-n-n."
Finally, the girl was starting to get tired of running herself silly and her shrieks were now becoming unknown to the two Heads that stood tall above the snow covered grounds. They watched as the boy stopped and plopped himself flat down on the ground, his black unbuttoned coat fanning out around him. The pink hat girl walked slowly over to where to boy lay, her little boots making invisible prints in the snow. Hermione smiled as the girl held out a purple-gloved hand and helped to boy to his feet.
Beside her, Hermione heard a little… was that a laugh? She turned and the boy standing beside her was smirking slightly down at the young one's that had started chasing each other again. Oddly, she liked his laugh… and she wanted to here it again. Perhaps with a little more time together, she could become the one to cause such a nice bubbly sound to come from the usually sneering Mister Malfoy.
Smiling at the thought, Hermione turned to Draco slowly. "Shall we go inside now? It's bitter cold out here," she asked. Watching him closely for his reaction to the invitation.
He nodded to her solemnly and turned away from the little children down below. "Yeah. I must say though, there's nothing like the winter weather."
~ ~ I thank you for reading it to the end. I know I do not deserve it for quiting FanFiction for so long. Anyway, good day or good night, I wave my black-laced glove to you in Farwell. ~ ~