Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the fabulous harry Potter. Though I would like to personally own a few of those sexy bish british boys. If ever the chance comes, I will have a brander in hand and papers for J.K rowling to sign.

I would like to thank Sugaricing, Christina *Looks at Christina who is effectively snogging Daniel*, Ashes Kittyhawk, The outcast, Kiyoko, terin kail, and Dolineth.

Terin Kail: Your question was: why is this story in the romance section. Though it seems that it will be impossible to get Draco and Hermione together, the 'love' will be later, or maybe not… *wink*

Look closely in this chapter, there will be a little bit of lyrics that go to the part uh…. Yeah. ALSO, if you noticed, both P.O.V's of Hermione and Draco switch a bit during a one scene but there is no change of scene like I usually do with the chapters. So it might be a little confusing but I think you will be able to tell when the P.O.V's alternate.

And for the people wondering when the hell the cold fire will be mentioned… I reckon that the whole mystery starts in chapter 9 so just hang in there and enjoy!

Oh! And a minor mistake in chapter 7! I said that Ron was in hat three and blaise zabini was hat 2. But I paired them up. I meant to put blaise in hat 3, my bad!      

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'Hermione Granger'

Hermione Granger blinked, her eyes widening upon the sight of her written name on the slip of parchment held in Draco's Malfoy's elegant hand. He was leaning his weight partially upon one leg, his head slightly tilted to give her a most rhetorical expression. No, this simply can't be happening. This has had to be just some horrible nightmare that I'll wake up to and say 'golly, that was a horrible nightmare!!!' She thought to herself in a fit of panic. For a moment, she could not process the reality that she was paired up with the smuggest rat that was ever dragged into Hogwarts. Well, perhaps the 'smuggest ferret' for Ron's part. Nearly tackling the boy, Hermione seized the parchment from his hand and raked her wide, horror filled eyes over it. Behind her shoulder she could hear Draco snickering into the sleeve of his robes. It was just like him to start laughing at her displeasure. Chortling Weasel…

Whipping around, she pushed roughly past him, shoulder knocking, to Professor Flitwick's desk. He was sitting up on a high stool, watching merrily as his students sized up their new charms partners. The staff must have been completely barmy if they think that house unity could be achieved by these means, she thought to herself. It was mad! It was so mad that it made her mind boggle crazily. Merlin surely was laughing at her somewhere in the universe.

"Professor Flitwick, may I have a minute of your time?" Hermione asked, fighting down the quick breaths hitched up in her chest. A dizzy spell seemingly was conjured inside her head, making her hands grab hard at a nearby desk. Flitwick started out of his watching to see a most disgruntled Hermione Granger standing in front of him. Something must have been wrong because the color in her face didn't lie. The Gryffindor prefect looked quite ready to chunder there upon his stone floor. Smiling warmly, he finally nodded his head.

"Of course, you may. What ails you, Ms. Granger?" The professor asked. Hermione took a moment to inhale sharply and then looked over her shoulder. Following her eyes he could see Draco Malfoy leaning against the wall next to Hat four, scowling in a corner. The strong outline of his body was framed in darkness and shade. Hmmm, he was quite intimidating. He was looking down at the slip of parchment down in his hands before tearing it up into many pieces, an almost maniac expression on his face. Flitwick could only blink hard as he watched the Slytherin then point his wand at the torn pieces of paper and burst them into flame. The silver haired seventeen year old looked quite pleased, his eyes wandering over the smoking ash. Ah, so she was paired up with whom Professor Trelawney liked to call "The sadist of Hogwarts"

"It's my partner, Professor, to say the least. Draco Malfoy and I don't get along on the best of terms, as you can see. I believe that being partnered up with him will be a hindrance and a danger to my grades." She said softly, occasionally gazing down at the floor, her eyes troubled. Flitwick sighed, and pursed his lips for a moment. He knew at least one unhappy student would come up to him with a complaint about his or her partner. It was inevitable when Gryffindor and Slytherin were brought together and wrapped around with the fingers of force. Lion and Snake were born and died bitter enemies. The headmaster carefully reminded him that the current arrangements would bring uproar among the student body, but it would eventually fade. When the idea of bringing the two houses closer together, he himself had protested. It was difficult enough to distinguish which house indeed hated one another more then the other. Who needed war within the safe sanctuary of the school when war was already raging outside amidst the wizarding world with the return of Lord Voldemort?

"Ms. Granger, while I know that you and Mister Malfoy don't get along, the two of you share the same levels in charms. By working with someone who bares the same rank of intelligence on the subject, you two could establish a true project of brilliance. Put aside the hate for now. You two may end up even being friends…" The professor said, ignoring the snort of derisiveness that Hermione accidentally let escape. Meanwhile, the Gryffindor prefect could hardly believe what she was hearing. Become friends? That was as possible as the idea of Voldemort sitting around a bonfire dressed in tie-dye with rainbow love beads around his neck, while saying "Make love, not war". While the image was comical to her mind, it was still dreadfully impossible. Impossible as her and Draco Malfoy getting along like justly civil people. Clenching her fist, she looked to Professor Flitwick again, desperation in her eyes. After all, that's what she had come to be at that moment: Desperate and none too complaisant.

"But, Professor-" She started again, her insides squelching.

"Now, Ms.Granger, I cannot start changing partners or else every other student will have the same desire to as well. So I must decline of your request." Flitwick said with finality in his voice that clearly stated that the conversation was over. Hermione bowed her head in defeat, her eyes falling to look down at the floor. Well there was no changing it. She, Hermione Granger, would have to work with the biggest bastard she had ever met in her entire life. The professor seeing how disappointed she was could only offer her a sympathetic smile. Then a strange light bloomed to life in his old eyes. The tiny wizard leaned over in his chair to whisper to her, as if sharing his deepest, darkest secret.

"Perhaps it is fate that has paired you up with Draco Malfoy. There is always a reason for why things happen, Ms.Granger. In time, you will understand what that is." He whispered, a twinkle in his eyes. Hermione could only stare at her professor for a moment, letting his words sink in. Whatever reason there was for fate to bring Draco and her together, she most certainly did not want to know.

"Well, a fat lot of good that did…" She muttered, turning away to return to where Draco stood brooding. How could she expect her charms teacher to understand the predicament that she was caught up in like a helpless fish in a net? On her way back to the hat, Harry and Ron trudged up to her. Ron had his arms crossed defiantly over his chest, a frown tugging the corner of his lips down. Harry might have been the only one to be pleased with his partner since he would be working side by side with a fellow Gryffindor. Looking over Ron's shoulder, she could see a very irritated Blaise Zabini sitting atop a desk, legs crossed, hands clenched.

"Just be glad the both of you didn't get partnered up with Pansy Parkinson. That complete cow…" She said

"As if a day of classes couldn't get worse, we now have charms with these slimy gits." Ron growled. Harry looked around as if asking who her partner was. Hermione could only sigh, knowing what was to happen once she told them who she was doomed with. Now, not only did she have to suffer detention with the conniving Slytherin, but she also had to work with him for the next few months on the seventh year task that would no doubt determine half her final grade. The thought of that made an unpleasant shudder pass through her. No one messed with her grades except her; she would make sure of it…

"Who you working with, Hermione?" Asked Harry. Gulping, she could only weakly jab her finger over her shoulder to where Malfoy stood in the darkness of the classroom corner. Harry's startling green eyes widened into saucers and he muttered a quiet exclamation of "Oh Crikey…" while Ron began to splutter soundlessly. Sinking down into a chair, she buried her face into her hands, sighing again. Hearing both boys fall into chairs silently next to her, she leaned against Ron's shoulder tiredly. She felt both physically and mentally exhausted. The day could not pass by quick enough for her liking. Time was toying with her; bending her to its will. The afternoon itself seemed to get longer and longer as the day wore on.

"I swear… If that bullying toerag does something to you, Hermione…" Ron whispered, his sentence floating in the air. Both of her friends looked completely miffed at the situation. Sighing with exasperation, she let them pat her sympathetically on the shoulder.

"The professor can't do anything about it, can he?" Harry finally asked.

"No, he can't. He says that it might be good for us to work together. We might become friends, he said. Total Rubbish!" Hermione whispered venomously as she glared in Malfoy's direction. Ron guffawed dubiously at the idea of Hermione and Malfoy becoming friends.

"Friends? Oh that's a whole lot of bollocks…" Ron muttered. "The only thing you'll get out of this sodding project, Hermione, is a mess of rows and a bloodied up Malfoy. Can't say that I wouldn't be delighted to see the likes of him hexed into pieces." Hermione stared back at Ron as he said this. It was obvious that the current situations were already hard upon her heavily burdened shoulders. Both her friends knew that Draco had what was coming to him by working with her. He was the fire that lit the fuse of her violent hate. Harry was about to reply when an annoyingly familiar voice yelled in their direction.

"Hey, Granger! Get over here!" Malfoy hollered from the corner of the room, his eyebrows furrowed with frustration. He decided to make his presence known to all from the cloak of shadow that he had wrapped himself in. The Gryffindor prefect scowled and got up from her seat, Harry and Ron fuming. Stalking past her fellow students, she made her way over to where he stood. Draco reminded her of those types of men who didn't let woman breathe a word of their opinion unless they were willing to get beat for it. His father probably had Narcissa Malfoy on chains, commanding her to polish his shoes clean with her tongue. Hermione could not help but feel a twinge of sympathy for whoever had to marry him in the future.

Opening her mouth to speak, the words ready to pour out of her lips quickly jumped back down her throat as Malfoy had already began speaking. His tone was in an icy whisper that sent deep, spiked shivers down her spine. There was something very frightening about the Slytherin as he towered over her, his form close to hers. So tall he was that any light coming in from the windows was blocked out by his shoulders. Shadow crawled up her skin like spiders.

"Listen, you trog…" Malfoy whispered, ignoring Hermione as her nostrils flared indignantly like an infuriated bull. "I don't want to be partnered up with you anymore then you do, so let's get some facts straight right now…" He began, narrowing his grey eyes as he slowly but surely backed her into the stone wall. She crossed her arms defensively over her chest, lips tight. He could see every eyelash of her eyes as he spoke to her. A burst of self satisfaction bubbled within his stomach, making the corners of his delicate lips curl up into a smirk

"I decide what our charms task is on. I decide when we meet to do the bloody spell crafting. And most of all, I decide who will be doing what during the project." Stepping back, he noticed that a swarm of a storm clouded her stubborn features. His words indeed had a strong, powerful potency. His father taught him how to achieve that. How else would he gain ascendance among the Ministry whence he entered his father's shoes?

"And you think I'm going to let you get away with ordering me around?" She asked, hands on her hips, eyebrow raised.

"Yes," He said as a matter of fact. "Yes, I do…" She chuckled mirthlessly. This only made him angrier.

"And let you soil my grades? Fat chance, Malfoy. No one orders me around, least of all, you…" Hermione said with a twinge of irate amusement floating airily in her eyes. Draco glared daggers at her as she pushed herself past him, the wild mane of hair nearly smacking his face with audacity. No one in their right mind turned their back on a Malfoy. In situations like this, he was the boss! He was dominant figure! No one talked against his dignity. Especially not filth like Granger…

****

No

Hear me out now

You're gonna listen to me

Like it or not

Right now

****  (Faint, Linkin Park)

Reaching out to grab her arm fiercely, he was stopped by the soundings of the bell. Hermione scampered away, bidding her two dolt friends farewell and then making a speedy rush to the door. Class was dismissed. Bugger, Draco said in his mind. Lessons were over, it was time for Detention. Inwardly groaning with exasperation, he grabbed his books and hurried out the large doors.

Granger was not too far away up the corridor, her footfalls somewhat loud and heavy. No doubt she was as unhappy as he was about having to have such a long detention. But at least the sad trog wasn't missing a Quidditch practice in the process. Then again, she didn't seem like the sort to take part in sports. Her nose was always buried in some book like the no-life bookworm she was. Blaise hadn't been too happy about his defeat on the pitch last week, and was very reluctant to let the argument go. Wondering how the evening would be spent in the company of McGonagall and Hermione Granger, he stalked down the hall, glaring at all who stood in his way.

Granger turned sharply into the empty Transfiguration classroom, Draco following behind closely. That old bat McGonagall was sitting at her desk, quill moving erratically over some student's essay. Her lips were tightly pursed. Swaggering past the rows of empty desk, nearly knocking over Granger in the process, he came to stand at his professor's desk. She looked up from her work, eyes hard. Hermione silently stood next to him after a moment. She had an unreadable expression on her soft features, her small hands clutching her school bag to her chest. Rolling his eyes, he turned his attention back to the professor.

"Good afternoon, Ms.Granger… Mr. Malfoy…" McGonagall acknowledged him with a curt nod of her head. She got up from her chair and swept away from the desk, adjusting her glasses as she did so.

"Now, the detention that has been set up for you will be for a week and a half. Professor Snape wouldn't have it any other way considering the measure of damage done to his classroom. Just be grateful that it is not your potions master handling your detention…" She said, looking pointedly at Hermione when speaking. Draco crossed his arms and let his eyes wander around the room leisurely. What a waste of time… He thought to himself slowly.

"You will be doing work without the aid of your wands so give them here for safe keeping. I will return them after your whole two hours are finished." She said, holding out her hand to both students. This caught Draco's attention. Without the aid of magic? Was she barking? What in gods name was she going to make them do? Fighting the snarl of agitation, with great hesitation he placed his wand into the professor's waiting, outstretched hand. Granger sighed from beside him, giving hers up as well.

"Follow me please." McGonagall then said bluntly. The Gryffindor and Slytherin's eyes met for a brief moment before following their transfiguration teacher's footsteps.

The two Hogwarts students continued to walk in seek of Professor McGonagall's stiffly walking back. Unknown to Draco, Hermione could not help but glance at the tall boy beside her with a thoughtful approach. He moved quite like he always did: quick and stealthily like a cat. In the darkening of the empty corridors, silver hair glowed with a pretentious light that glued her eyes to him. His pointed facial features were composed like stone, eyebrows furrowed with inner abomination. The Slytherin's lips were set in a thin line, as if he really wanted to say something but refused to. Nearly tripping on the hem of her robes in the haste as she followed McGonagall, she glanced once more at him.

Blushing angrily as he caught her staring, she hurried away from him. Opps, she thought silently. This detention would sure as hell be unnerving…

*****

Draco rolled his eyes as Hermione blushed furiously and hurried away. Caught in the act, Granger? He thought to himself wryly. What was it with her and observing him? She was like some scientist studying some specimen. He didn't know anything about Granger being a scientist, but he certainly knew that he was one hell of a specimen, and an interesting one at that. The thought in mind caused him to lift his nose to the air, frowning in disdain at people who passed. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers, he continued to follow the teacher and fellow student.

Glancing around, he noticed with annoyance that Christmas cheer had spread as fast as the black plague among the jostling students. Holiday break was in a few days, thank Merlin, but he would have to finish his detention when coming back from the Manor. Wreaths of red berries and holly adorned the walls with myriads of ribbon hanging from each high point of the towering, cathedral like ceiling. Festive green and red lights blinked and gleamed while silver and gold tinsel graced the rows of metal armor along the corridors. Nearly Headless Nick was floating near the great hall singing "Come all ye faithful". Even Peeves seemed caught up in the spread of Holiday cheer because he was blowing more raspberries then ever while sporting a large Father Christmas hat.

All of which Draco was seeing made him sick. All of it… He could almost taste the cheer in the air, it was so thick. The distant caroling of the drifting castle ghosts were ringing in his ears and giving him a headache. Snorting in disgust at the amounts of students snogging relentlessly under the mistletoe, Pansy came to his mind. Lord, he would have to avoid the Slytherin common room as all costs if he didn't want a repeat of last year. At that last years Christmas, he had just come into the Common room from his dormitory when Pansy floated over, a scrap of mistletoe raised in her hand over their heads. For ten minutes straight, he had lead her on a chase through the dungeons, hot on his trail like some hound hunting a fox. It was only when he had crashed, face first, into the wall, that he got sucked down his dormitory laundry chute as his only escape. But then there was that little matter of the Slytherin's having to wake Professor Snape in the middle of the night so that he could rescue Draco who was stuck halfway down the chute, yowling like an angry cat drenched in water. Later that night, Pansy cornered him in the Hospital Wing. The memory made him shudder in revolt. Small miniscule fairies were bobbing along the corridor, throwing mistletoe over peoples head like the cherubs would do with flowers on Valentine's Day.

A shadow of dismay cast its way over his mind as a whisper of cold air brushed across his neck. Buttoning his open robes, he could only wonder what was happening as McGonagall lead them past the marble staircase, past the magnificent entrance hall and toward the double doors. Hermione seemly stumped as well, her head tilting slightly in confusion. The Transfiguration professor turned to make sure that they have followed obediently before looking back at the double doors. In a silent command, the massive doors creaked open, a howl of wind blowing at the rim of her pointed hat. The school grounds out before them were covered in a vast, impressive blanket of fluffy white pleasure, little flakes continuing to fall from the sky. This was the first blizzard that Hogwarts had seen for a long time, but it only seemed to heighten the Christmas cheer ringing in the hearts of students.

McGonagall took forth her own wand and pointed at the snow that they met as soon as the door opened. The snow had to be at least two feet so far. Pointing her wand, a jet of red light bloomed and started to melt the snow away from her path. Draco silently scratched his head in confusion. What work were they going to be doing outside? Following McGonagall as she plowed her way foreword, snow shooting away to create a path, the two seventh year prefects walked. Granger hugged herself from the bitter cold, the wind sweeping her wild hair into the air. The professor stopped plowing, stashed her wand away and then turned to them. Somewhat far in the distance he could see the majestic front gates, shimmering against the last rays of sunlight that sunk over the mountains.

"You must be wondering why the both of you are out here. Well, you will serve your detention outside these doors. The task of the detention is to plow all the snow that leads down to the gates up ahead so that you can find the path. The students leaving for the holidays do use this path to get to the carriages," She explained, ignoring the fact that both mouths of the student before her dropped open. "Without the aid of magic, you will use these. I had better be receiving them back at the end of the two hours so that I may return them to professor Hagrid." She barked, before holding out two large shovels. Granger had taken hers and was looking at the snow reproachfully. Draco only stood there, not showing an effort to take the offending working tool that was being held out for him.

"Let me get this straight, Professor. You want me and Granger to use these things and dig out the path to the gates?..." He asked, an eyebrow raised. McGonagall's expression hardened at his disrespectful tone.

"Perhaps I did not elaborate clearly enough. Yes, Mr. Malfoy, you and Ms. Granger will be using these shovels to reform the path that leads down to the front gates. I will fetch the both of you later this evening before dinner." She snapped, thrusting the working tool into his lax hand. Remaining silent as the professor performed an anti-freezing charm on them, she then turned and disappeared into the castle, the doors closing behind her with a final thud. The charm would only protect them from frost bite, not being cold, Draco realized angrily. Granger quietly turned away from him, holding her shovel. Throwing down his shovel, he glared at her.

"You just had to get us a detention, Granger…" She turned to look at him, eyes narrowed.

"Hey, you brought it upon yourself when hexing Seamus's quidditch badge, so don't blame it on me."

"My fault, is it?" He snarled.

"Yes, it is your fault, Malfoy. Now, I recommend getting to work." she said, referring to the shovel. When he only looked down at it in his hands with pursed lips, she smirked.

"What? Don't know how to do a bit of work, Malfoy?" She asked, mildly wondering how she was the one leering now. Six years of receiving verbal abuse was bubbling up now like a brewing potion from within her.

"Unlike your family of filthy little muggles, we wizard folk use magic for dirty work like this." He said, putting emphasis on the work 'wizard'. She only snorted.

"Even wizards can't use magic for everything, Malfoy. I guess the only hard work you've had to suffer is carrying the back breaking weight of your money bag because only Merlin knows that's so arduous and exhausting." She drawled dramatically with a sarcasm that made his eyes see fire. Clenching his fist and wondering if he could knock her unconscious with only one blow to the head with his shovel, he advanced on her. Before a threat could come from the bottom of his throat, she lifted her working tool up in front of her like a sword.

"I've been working with these a lot longer then you have, Malfoy… Don't make me give you a concussion. The swelling would enlarge your already oversized head. I won't hit you for the sake of all the people you harass." She growled before turning away, throwing her hair over her shoulder and scooping up some snow into her shovel.

Malfoy could only turn away and kick at the piling snow. He would be stuck out there for almost two hours every day with Granger, surrounded by nothing but snow, and have to dig through a raging blizzard. Cursing loudly as his foot came in contact with his shovel; he limped over to the stone wall and leaned against it. Nursing his foot, he failed to notice the suppressed giggle that came from the shoveling Gryffindor. His eyes ran angrily over the snow covered school grounds. In the far distance he could see Hogsmeade station. In a few days, the red Hogwarts express would speed along the platform, picking up students for the holidays. But even the thought of going home was not at all comforting. Draco tightened his robes, wanting nothing more than to be in his dormitory, tucked away under his sheets and alone in the dark. The dark gave him comfort. The dark was sometimes his companion, whispering little nothings in his ear as he lay protected within the sanctuary of his bed curtains.

Turning his gaze onto Granger, he spied her slowly shoveling through the snow, a small patch of the path already visible under her feet. He watched her movements with intense interest, noting the way she bent over, the way she flung the shovel over her shoulder, snow flying into a pile on the side. He noted the way she would unconsciously move tendrils of messy curls out of her face. Already her cheeks were a rosy pink from the nipping cold. The work itself didn't seem to bother her that much, probably having done it before. Her parents being nothing but muggles, they probably all did work like that. Helpless, grotesque Muggles, he thought to himself in disgust. It was a wonder how such an inferior people survived in the world without the aid of magic.

But then again, he often heard gossip among the Slytherins that Muggles had a magic of their very own. Something called electricity. Someone once told him that muggles lived in vast cities of technology and machines that never sleep. He often wondered how they conjured things like that if they didn't have magic to help them. But then again, there was no use attempting to figure out the lifestyles of Muggle life. He would leave that to the mudblood and muggle-lovers. Crashing back to reality when a particularly strong gust of wind bit at his pale face, he looked once more over to Granger. The snarky trog was making obvious progress but she was working a bit to slow for his taste.

"Hey, Granger, shovel a little faster why don't you?" He yelled, crossing his arms as he leaned against the stone wall. She halted in her work, her back to him for a moment. She then turned to face him, face tight. It was uncanny how someone could look like Minerva McGonagall in only a matter of seconds.

"Shovel faster? Why don't you get off your lazy bum and do some work? It will go faster if we both shovel anyways. A bit of real work won't kill you…" She said, hands on her hip in that annoyingly familiar way. Ignoring her suggestion to help, he pretended to be in deep thought for a minute.

"Nah, I don't feel like it much. I'll let you continue with the work, Granger. But do shovel a bit faster, I would like to make it back in time for dinner." Draco replied, studying his fingernails with extreme interest as if he didn't have a single care. With a wide smirk, he could almost hear her echoing his words in her head.

His attention was wrenched away from his nails when a shovel was dropped at his feet, Hermione glaring at him. She looked to be fighting to stay in control, a deadly gleam in her eye. Ah, so there was a Slytherin in there somewhere… Lip curling with disdain at the shovel in front of him, he pushed it away with his foot. He could only snigger with pride as she stalked away, throwing her hands up in defeat. Soon, the only sounds that filled the air were the whistling of the howling wind and the brisk sound of the shovel moving across the ground. Once or twice it would be broken with her grumbles of,

"…… Lazy prat……no work……. Snarky Slytherin…..Wait till….McGonagall…."

Silence reined over as night came over head, stars almost invisible in the velvet sky. A moment later, the quiet came to a sudden halt when a loud sigh caused Hermione Granger to stop her work. Shaking her head and believing it to be the wind, she scooped up more snow. She came to freeze again when an even louder sigh penetrated her concentration. Turning her head quickly to look over her shoulder, the prefect could still see Draco leaning against the wall, arms crossed. She grunted at the plastered angelic expression that danced across his features. Smug Bastard, she thought to herself. Trying to ignore his sickening innocence, Hermione went back to digging through the snow, seemingly looking for some buried treasure.

When yet another, obvious sigh crackled in her ears, she turned to look at him.

"Could you stop doing that?" She asked, switching her shovel from hand to hand. He turned his silver-haired head to gaze at her as if noticing she was there only for the first time.

"Stop doing what?..." asked sinless. Shaking her head, Hermione began to walk back to her snow pile.

Sigh!! Back tightening like a cat readying to pounce, she spoke.

"Think you're funny, do you?..." He opened his mouth at the question, feigning ignorance, his eyes large as if her words hurt him.

"Who me?... What ever have I done, Granger?" He asked, a sneer threatening to overcome his overly smug face. It was just like him to attempt getting her to loose all homeostasis of her senses. He desired to make her loose all self will and control. He wanted the Gryffindor know it all to be rid of her prized insanity, her very personality. She would not give that to him. Taking in a deep breath, her hands coming to brush down the stray curls that seemed to frizzle even more when she was agitated, she counted slowly to ten and back down to one. Her father always did that when he thought he would be on the verge. It was essential for him to remain strictly calm so that his anger would not put him on the fatal receiving end of a heart attack. For her, the level headed muggle-born, it was not many times that she had to count back down to balanced poise.

"Just shut up and let me work." She demanded, ignoring the satisfying image of Draco lying in the snow, her shovel still raised in the air from when she smacked him in the face with it. If she could barely keep her grip on inner tranquility and constraint now, she could only imagine what would happen when working on the charms project with him. She could see it now… His tombstone would read "Here lays Draco Malfoy, smug bastard of Slytherin house, died after UN-subdue Gryffindor strangled him relentlessly with his own tongue." Then of course she would be shipped off to some private ward in St. Mungo's where she could be constrained within a small, white padded room, growling like a disturbed cat with rabies.

Being brought back from her thoughts when Draco made a throaty tutting noise, she grimaced.

"Time is of the essence, Granger," He simpered, tapping an elegant finger to his imaginary watch. "If you want to meet Potty and Weasel for dinner, you'll have to hurry it along."

As he opened his mouth to make further comments about her shoveling, he was only met with a face full of snow. Spitting out the ball of snow that had hit him square in the face, he stepped away from the wall, coughing. The snorts of laughter coming from a few feet away lead him to who the damned culprit was. Rubbing snow furiously out of his eyes, he whipped around to look at Hermione who was grasping at her stomach with one hand, the other still holding her shovel. Laughter was pouring out of her open mouth, her eyes in little crescent moons, she was laughing so hard. Snarling dangerously, he took a step forward but recoiled again when another hard, icy ball of snow came into contact with his burning face. The mudblood was practically on the ground, nearly wetting herself in joy.

"You'll pay for that, Mudblood!" He thundered, lunging forward, eyes like angry slits. She apparently was waiting for him to strike because she just stepped out of the way as he flew through the air. Draco fell in an unceremonious thud in her pile of snow, the snowflakes getting caught in his eyelashes. Growling ferociously, he made to scamper off the ground. She was still laughing hysterically like he expected. The sight of Malfoy lying upon the snow, his face as red as a beet had to be one hell of a memory to keep. What he did not expect though was for her to grab the loopholes of his trousers where his belt was and to drop a snowball down the back. She stepped back, shovel in hand, pleased with her victory. It took only moments for Draco to register the cold ice stuffed down the back of his trousers before he yowled. Mouth open in a scream, he jumped up from the snow yelling like a banshee.

Hermione was beside herself, tears of laughter pouring down her cold, raw face as Malfoy jumped around the dug out clearing, kicking his legs as he tried to get the snowball to fall out the bottom of his trousers. It was so unbecoming and unlike the elegant, serpent like Slytherin that she fell back onto the snow clutching her stomach.

"It's cold! It's cold! Bloody hell!!" He howled, not noticing Hermione who was squawking like a bird.

Draco beat his hand along his legs, watching as snow poured out the pant leg. Little cries escaped involuntarily from his mouth as the cold ice coated his skin. Finally getting the last sprinkles of snow out of his trousers, the phantom had arisen from hell. Standing tall at his full height, straightening his robes after that rather…er… humiliating and awkward moment, he turned to look at his prey who was sitting on the ground trying to catch her breath. His trembling lips lifted in the most chilling snarl that had yet to make its appearance on his stone sculpted features. Her laughter died away slowly as she took upon the sight of his pale face growing further redder. Anyone could have dropped to death by just looking into his eyes. With renowned stealth, he took a step toward where she sat. His tongue splayed across the back of his grit teeth as he could almost taste the new fear coming from her body. It took a moment for him to get his breath back.

"Think its funny, Granger?! You won't think it's so funny when I bury you alive in a winters grave!" He roared.

"Goodness!" She cried before jumping up from the ground and tearing away across the snow. She couldn't run fast as the snow was a hindrance, but it was enough. Draco roared like a dragon before ripping after her, hand out to grab. He would get her, and when he did…. No mercy… She would pay! No one humiliated him! Blinded by his rage, he ran rather clumsily after her, but nothing would stop him until her flesh was being stripped apart under his blood craving finger tips. Never had his face been such a red, it was inhuman. Feeling as though his lungs were going to burst with adrenaline, he continued to claw after her running form. Her fun was running out.

If they took the time to notice, the two would have realized that there was a group of young students crowded around the windows in the lower tower cheering on.

He was behind her now, arms outstretched, their feet spraying snow every where. His locks of platinum hair were no longer slick but running in wildly abandoned strands around his face and curling around his neck. Granger's bushy hair was a cloud in the wind, and he could hear her panting as she tore through the snow that slowed her movement down. Reaching forward, his fingers met with black fabric. Grabbing savagely at her cloak, they fell in a heap on the ground, Granger wriggling like a worm trying to escape. She was not distinctly aware of the feeling of snow riding up her legs and melting on her skin. She was only focusing on escaping his reach. She could feel him tugging fiercely at her cloak as she crawled away.

Finally rolling away from his hands, she got up from the ground. Grabbing quickly at the nearest shovel, she arched it over her head, ready to swing if he came forward. He only stood there, shaking with odious laughter, his eyes gleaming like black diamonds in the night. He looked very much like the part he played as a dark lord when he haunted her very dreams. Very slowly he bent down and picked up the other shovel from the ground. So, he would kill her after all. Telling herself to remain composed and brave, they continued to stare at each other, shovels ready to fight if needed.

"What is going on here?!!" A familiar voice barked. Hermione started and dropped her shovel to see McGonagall standing rigid as a board at the open double doors. The crowd of curious students who had been watching the battle had now come down from the tower and were bunched behind McGonagall. Draco set his working tool down as well but looked unfazed. However, disappointment flooded through him. They were so close to going head on. He never let a challenge go, especially when be appointed to one by a mudblood Gryffindor. The Transfiguration professor took in a great breath, readying herself to scream but stopped short when she saw that part of the path had already been dug through. Chest deflating like a balloon, she gave a sigh.

"I would take points away for your inappropriate behavior toward one another, but seeing as how you have gotten some work done, I will refrain…for now…" She said. Hermione opened her mouth to say that she was the only one who had done the work but stopped when she felt Malfoy's foot digging purposely into her frozen toes. Heaving a heavy sigh as McGonagall handed her back her wand, the two followed the professor back into the castle. Her clothes were sodden with snow and she was chilled to the bone. Malfoy was in a right state next to her, his pursed lips white. He was just as frustrated as she. Of course, she could not help wonder what would have happened if McGonagall hadn't came.

Hermione turned and began to go up the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower when someone grabbed her arm in a vice grip. Whipping around, she looked down to see Draco on the bottom of the stairs, his fingers fierce around her flesh. His gaze could have sent her back to the Hospital wing petrified.

"What do you want now?" She asked. The detention was over until tomorrow and she did not intend to see him again until then.

"Wednesday. Library. Project. Be there or I'll hunt you down…and you won't have McGonagall to save you…" He whispered before sweeping away down the corridor, snow dripping from his robes. Hermione could not help but snort as the image of him with snow down his trousers came back to her mind once more. Turning back toward the staircase, she gave a somewhat cheery wave to the portrait on the wall beside her.

*****

A/N: well… that was interesting. This chapter didn't come out quite as good as I had hoped for but next chapter should be muhahahaha well tata for now! Review please!