The Ice Prince
Chapter 2: Civil War
Hermione nibbled on her nails as she waited for the Headmaster to appear. She was seated on a red velveteen armchair. And just a few feet away from her, seated on a silver satin couch, was Draco Malfoy looking grim and surly. Hermione knew that Malfoy was smart and ranked quite high in the list of honor students (Hermione being the highest, o' course!), but she didn't really expect him to become Head Boy.
Finally, Professor Dumbledore descended the flight of stairs that spiraled from the ceiling. What was up there, no one really knew. "Welcome, Hermione, Draco, and congratulations on being the new Head Girl and Boy. First things first," said the Headmaster as he took his seat behind his large mahogany table. "You are expected to uphold the ideal status of a Head Boy and Girl. We both know that you two are the best in school, and we expect that to be kept up. And, I know it will be hard for the both of you to grasp, but you have to cooperate.
"Being the leaders of this school, you will help the Professors and I in handling things around here and making sure things go smoothly. And this will only be possible if you overcome your differences and act civil to one another," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his mischievous gray eyes.
Draco slouched further into his seat and huffed out his frustration. Hermione, meanwhile, looked at the Headmaster as though he had totally lost all sanity. He must be mad to actually expect them to be civil to one another!
"I guess that will be all. Oh! And wait for further instructions if something comes up," he continued.
Just as Hermione and Draco stood up to leave with a "Yes, Headmaster," Professor Dumbledore called out to them, "Mr Filch will be waiting for you outside to take you two the Heads' Common Room."
Hermione and Draco looked at stared agape at each other in utter shock. They have to share a Common Room! Worst, it'll only be the two of them down there…
"This is going to be sheer, downright hell," Hermione thought to herself, quietly praying that this was just a bad dream and any moment now she'd wake up back in her home just south of Surrey, and find out that there was still a week before classes start. But as she followed Mr Filch to the Common Room, she realized that this was no dream. Bruises started to appear on her arm where she had been pinching herself in order for her to wake up from the nightmare.
When they finally reached a huge portrait of Simon the Brave, a huge burly man wearing an ivory colored robe with matching wizard's hat, Filch muttered the password, which was "teamwork". Once inside, Hermione stood in awe as she absorbed the beauty and grandeur of the Common Room. The walls were colored blue, not just any blue but every hue of blue you could imagine was present - and it was enchanted. It seemed as if it were water cascading down the walls. It was exquisite.
In the center of the room were about a dozen different colored, shaped, sized chairs. Some were armchairs, others couch, and one, a loveseat – there was even a beanbag that resembled a Snitch.
Off to one side of the room was a large oak table for studying or eating or whatever they needed a table for. And behind the table stood a huge antique wooden shelf filled with books of all kinds. Hermione smiled to herself, now she wouldn't have to go to the library to read or research, she had everything she needed right there in the Common Room.
On the other side of the room were three doors. The left most one displayed the Slytherin House emblem. The right most one held the Gryffindor House insignia. The middle one had the Hogwarts School crest on it.
Then Filch said to the, "You see the three doors? Obviously, the one with the Slytherin symbol is Mr Malfoy room, the one with the Gryffindor one is Ms Granger's and the middle one is the bathroom. Now, I have to leave before that stupid, no good poltergeist, Peeves, comes up with another no good prank. C'mon Mrs Norris." Then with a nudge of his foot into the rear of his beloved cat, they strode of into the dark corridor.
Hermione just remained standing, taking in the beauty of the entire room.
"You look stupid staring at the walls like that. It's not like you have never seen an enchanted object before," drawled Draco who was comfortably seated in a forest green armchair looking all smug and arrogant.
"Quit it Malfoy," said Hermione. "All you put downs will get you nowhere. And besides, we have to act civil, remember?"
"Whatever you say, mudblood," sneered Draco. "But in Dumbledore and your own words, we have to act civil. Act being the keyword."
"Fine," riposted Hermione as she turned to head to her room. "Do whatever you want to do Malfoy."
"You know I bloody will, mudblood."
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"How do you think Hermione's doing?" asked Ron as he and Harry just finished a round of wizard's chess, the winner obviously being Ron.
"I dunno, Ron," muttered Harry in a sleepy voice. "But I sure do hope she's alright."
"Yeah…"
"She'll be alright," Harry said. "You know how she is, our Hermione, she may be stubborn as a mule, but she can defend her own when she needs to."
"Bloody head strong that girl is," agreed Ron as the two headed for their dormitory.
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Hermione had the most wonderful sleep ever. She believed the four-poster bed to be enchanted to help you sleep better. Grabbing her scarlet bathrobe, she walked out of her room and into the bathroom.
The lavatory was just as grand as the Common Room. The ground was a cream colored marbled flooring; the walls were hard, sallow ruffles. On the wall in the far back was a large painting of a unicorn prancing through a daisy-filled meadow. And in the middle of the entire room was a bathtub, big enough for you to do laps in and be dead tired afterwards. And just like the one in the Prefects lavatory, this one had jets all around the ledges.
Hermione got into the tub and twisted some of the spouts along the ledges of the tub. The first one gushed pure white foam, the next poured out what seemed to be diluted Honey, the third surged warm milk, and from the last one flowed lavender scented bubble bath. Hermione felt as if she was in heaven.
Then suddenly, just as Hermione was about to relax, a hard rapping on the door was heard. The knocking continued, it kept getting harder and louder and stronger. "What do you want Malfoy?" asked Hermione in a tensed drawl.
"I want to take a bath," yelled Draco over the noise of his thumping fist. "What do you think I want, mudblood, to see your fat arse? Do not flatter yourself."
Hermione turned beet red at those harsh, insulting words. "Well, then you'd better wait for your turn Malfoy. I just got in here."
"What the bloody hell did you just say Granger?! Me, wait?! You must try to understand hat a Malfoy is never and will never be told to wait," screamed Draco, the perpetual thudding against the door getting louder and louder. "So I command you, get out of there this instant."
But Hermione didn't concede to Draco's command. She just let the warm foam pull her down and under the surface of the lukewarm liquid and inhaled the wonderful aroma of her bath water before being fully submerged in it.
As soon as she was out of breath, she resurfaced and got out of the tub. It took her awhile to realize what the loud noise was. It was Draco's uninterrupted knocking on the large wooden door. She wrapped herself in her scarlet bathrobe and opened the bathroom door. Draco's face was now as crimson as her robe, and his knuckled even more. "Why the hell did you take so long, mudblood," he growled at Hermione. He advanced towards her menacingly. "Don't you ever do that again or Merlin knows I'm gonna kill you."
"Is that a threat Malfoy?" Hermione asked haughtily. "Do not ever threaten me—"
Then it was as if a surge of heat smacked right into Hermione's left cheek causing her to flail backwards in intense pain. She staggered for a moment, her hands feeling the throbbing on her face where Draco's hand had hit her, before regaining composure. She pushed her long curls out of her face and looked up at Draco. Then, what she saw in Draco nearly made her fall back once again. Instead of the smug look he always had upon his chiseled face, Hermione found Draco in some sort of fright. His eyes were wide and in them Hermione thought she saw disbelief and a tinge of regret.
"But why? Is he sorry for hitting me?" Hermione thought to herslef still clutching her cheek.
However, the apologetic façade faded in a flash, and he reverted back to his usual conceited self. Then with a last glare filled with disdain, Draco fled into the bathroom leaving Hermione alone by the doorway, still holding her left cheek and agape.
Hermione slowly crept back into her room to get dressed still confused. Did she really see remorse in Draco's eyes? Or was that just wishful thinking? The fact that he had slapped her suddenly drifted out of her mind. All she could think about was whether she had really seen that trace of regret in his eyes.
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*This is all for this chapter. Hope you liked it. If not, then tell me and maybe you could suggest some ideas to make it better. I'm trying to prolong Draco's iciness as much as I could as to not hurry the story. But I promise that things will look brighter for Hermione in the last few chapters. Thank you for reading my work. Hope you had fun. And pleas R/R! Thanks!