Suspenseful! Maybe I'll start on the REAL dramione shiz on this chappie...who knows? Stay tuned!

Mrs. Rowling owns all HP characters and plotline...but I wish I had a share...

一

Chap 3

They spend the next two days in the hospital wing without speaking a single word. Hermione was still in a state of hysteria, chuckling madly at whatever it was she was thinking of. Draco stayed silent, sneaking occasional glances at her when he thought she wasn't looking. Finally, on the third day, they finally cracked.

Hermione was humming this tune, something from a TV show. Draco was tossing and catching a small rubber ball, completely bored out of his mind. Why won't she say anything? It's not like she hasn't hurt me before, he ponders.

He sits there thinking for a while (like he always is) before realizing that Hermione's twisted tune has stopped. She's staring out the window, her breath steaming up the icy glass. The snow outside—snow? Draco turns with immense pain shooting up his back to see that the grounds are now covered with a thin padding of snow. It's not much, but it's a shock to him. Is it already December? He gazes, awestruck by the soft beauty of such a simple pleasure, so easily overlooked. Suddenly, a crashing noise at the far end of the wing abruptly tears his gaze from the window. Hermione is face down on the floor, arms outstretched. He darts up (the pain is killing him), and hobbles over to her. His golden locks are tangled when he subconsciously runs a hand through it, like he always does in front of girls. But this is Granger, he reminds himself. A Mudblood. A dirty, cheating, Mudblood.

Sighing, he stoops to look upon her pathetic figure. Sprawled on the ground, he could bully her like always. But Hermione makes a bobbing motion with her head, and incoherent words streamline out of her mouth.

"What, girl? Have you gone mad?" He scoffs, completely baffled by her change of character from that obnoxiously bossy girl to this pathetic child.

"Get me outside." She mumbles. He can hear her perfectly fine, but decides to mess with her a little bit.

"What did you say? I can't hear people with their faces on the ground." He smirks.

"Outside. Snow. Get me out." She snarls, lifting her head a bit.

"I'm sorry, I'm deaf to Mudbloods. Repeat yourself, darling?"

"Get. Me. Out. Side." Her words a solid punches, smacks to his face that represent her pure hatred towards him.

"EXCUSE ME GRANGER? I DIDN'T QUITE CATCH THAT." He's this close to bursting out in laughter, but keeps his cool façade.

"I NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE!" She shrieks, her voice just about bursting his ears. Granger's face is red, half from frustration, half from her previous smackdown on the floor.

"Oh, you need to see the snow. But I'm afraid we can't—"

"DO I LOOK LIKE I GIVE A FLYING SHIT YOU LITTLE—"

"Shh." Draco hisses.

"NO I WON'T 'SHHH" GET ME—"

"Shut up!" Draco slaps both her cheeks, effectively silencing her. Yet he knew he was in for hell later, once she was fully healed.

"Voices." He whispers, gesturing to the door. Even though it was made of extremely thick material, he could bet her screaming ran up and down all the stairways and through the Grand Hall. Slowly, they inched back to their respective beds. However, he saw Hermione sneakily conceal her wand within her robes. Not long after he lay down, the doors burst open, revealing Crybaby Longbottom in his Professor robes. He looks at the innocently sleeping Hermione, and glances back at Draco. Longbottom's eyes narrow, and he points an accusatory finger at him.

"If I hear a singleword from here, I'll—"

"Yea, yea, you'll kill me. I've heard enough of that from her." Draco jerks his head towards Hermione, who's eyebrows twitched slightly. Longbottom sends one last apprehending look towards him, then with a swish of his robes, he's gone. Hermione's eyes pop open, and her wand appears out of her robes. She has no need to say incantations anymore, and neither does he. They both know she's a better wizard than him, but he's too prideful to admit it, and she's too modest to. A frosted glass hole pops out of the window, and a cool draft tickles their noses. Hermione's eyes are full of triumph as she revels in the relaxing breeze. Strands of her hair trail behind her, fueled by the wind. Her eyes are closed, mouth parted slightly in a soft smile. Draco absolutely despises the cold. It's frigid and uninviting and annoying. He watches Hermione, slightly bored.

"You gonna go out or what? I'm not gonna stay in here, are you?" He challenges daringly, stepping closer to that blasted hole. She turns to face him, eyes slowly opening. A gust of wind lifts her hair up, its arms threading through the strands. It bellows and twirls, turning her hair into a forest of vines. Her arms are spread wide, mouth resting in a natural smile. Since when did she have dimples? He wonders. He sees them now, for this has been one of the few times she has smiled in his presence. And also…

Hermione leaps out the window gracefully, leaving behind a poof of a snow cloud. She turns back and offers a gentle hand to him. He scoffs, but takes her hand. His face is warm, despite the bitter cold.

He wonders when she's become this beautiful.