Hermione was taking charge of the situation, being the "stubborn, bossy know-it-all" of the group. She was becoming almost hysterical in her attempts at leadership. "Okay," she said breathlessly. "We all need to keep talking to make sure none of us drifts off. I'm sure we'll be rescued soon - "
Ron suddenly cut in, his voice cracking with excitement. "What about the brooms?"
"What about them?" Hermione asked, a little annoyed that he had interrupted her.
"We could fly them out!" Draco gasped, cottoning on. "We could - "
"They're probably buried under five feet of snow by now," Hermione said irritably. "Unless you want to try digging through that, in the complete darkness, in the middle of a snowstorm . . ."
"Just an idea," Ron mumbled sulkily into her hair.
"It was a good one," Hermione conceded. "But, as the circumstances stand . . . Hey, Draco, how's Ginny doing?"
"Getting a bit warmer," he answered. "Not awake, though. Think she's comatose, or something?"
"Try shaking her a bit," Hermione advised. "Or should we let her sleep?"
Draco knew nothing about medicine or first aid. "Let's see if we can wake her first," he said, attempting to sound authoritative. He tightened his arms around her and bounced her a bit. "Ginny! Ginny Weasley! Uhh, filthy Weasel-face! . . . OK, if that doesn't wake her, I don't know what will." He drew his hands out from his sleeves and felt for her face. It was startlingly cold, like marble. Her cheeks felt like ice. "Her face is freezing," he informed them.
"You're caressing her face?!" Ron began to hyperventilate again.
"Shut it, Weasley, I'm trying to find her pulse again," Draco growled. It was a lie, but he decided to make it the truth. He traced her jawline and slipped his fingers onto the side of her neck. "Someone count twenty seconds for me," he asked.
"I will," Ron said immediately. "One, two, th - "
"Not aloud, idiot! I'm feeling her pulse." Draco rolled his eyes. "Start . . . now."
Silence prevailed for twenty seconds.
"Twenty," Ron finished.
"Twelve beats," said Draco. "Is that slow - ?"
"Yes, that's only 36 beats per minute," said Hermione at once. "That's only a little over half the average heart rate when you're at STP and not running around or anything."
"STP?" Ron frowned.
"Standard Temperature and Pressure," replied Hermione automatically, her voice veiled in thoughtful worry. "Maybe we should try insulating her more. Goodness knows she has no body fat at all."
"I can go for a bit without my outer cloak," offered Draco.
"Well, aren't you the little hero," Ron said scathingly.
"Look, I'm just trying to help your little sister here - "
"Trying to atone for your sins, you mean?"
"No! Merlin, Weasel, most brothers would be effin' grateful for - "
Hermione cut in, annoyed with Ron. "Just give her your stupid cloak! Ron, shut up. And Malfoy, don't try to be a martyr for this, either."
"I'm not," protested Draco as he shrugged off his outer layer. It was difficult because his coat was stiff with the cold. "Just trying to help . . ." He wrapped Ginny in it. Ron turned around and helped, feeling around to make sure her face and neck were sufficiently swathed. He gently tucked her stiff fingers into her sleeves and tightened her inner cloak before buttoning Draco's.
"Thanks," said Ron gruffly after a while.
"You're welcome."
"You know," said Hermione in an annoyingly observant voice, "you've been very un-Malfoyish this entire time."
"I've been very what?"
"Un-Malfoyish. Look at you, you've given up your own coat for the girl you slapped last week! And you've only complained a couple times about being out here with three Gryffindors. I'd have expected you to kill yourself – or us – by now."
Draco thought this over. "I'd have expected that, too," he said slowly.
Hermione waited for the second clause, but none came. "But?" she prompted.
" . . . But it isn't all that bad," he finished reluctantly. "I mean, as far as death experiences go, this is actually quite preferable to the ones we've learned about in Binns' class."
" 'Death experience?' Malfoy, we're not dead yet," Ron pointed out.
"Bits of me feel dead. I'm sure I've got frostbite. But really, once you get all numb like this, it's not so bad 'cause you can't feel anything, obviously. And it isn't painful to talk, not yet anyway - "
He was interrupted by a small moan. He tensed, then realized it had come from right in front of him. "Ginny!" he cried out.
Her head lolled back onto his chest. "You smell really good," she said in a slurred sort of voice, obviously still half-asleep.
Meanwhile . . .
Harry burst into Dumbledore's office after he had correctly guessed the password on his third try ("Watermelon Pop Rocks"). "Professor Dumbledore!" he yelled.
"Goodness, what is it, Harry?" Dumbledore grumbled from where he sat at his desk, only a few feet from Harry. His entire office was littered with maps and bits of parchment. "I'm a bit busy here, planning this great big battle between the forces of good and evil – what is it, did you have another bad dream?"
"No," said Harry vehemently. He slammed his Marauder's Map onto Dumbledore's desk. "Look," he spat, pointing rather savagely at the four dots on the Quidditch field. "What is that, an orgy in the snow?" he demanded.
Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up in apparent disapproval, but Harry swore he saw his beard twitch. "Great heavens, are they really still out there? In this bad weather?"
"Bad weather!" Harry bellowed. "It's like the Ice Age out there! It's snowed like seven feet in the past couple hours!" A bit of an exaggeration, but it seemed to get the point across.
"Well, they're under Madame Hooch's care, but I see she's in the teacher's lounge still," said Dumbledore, peering closely at the Map. "Pacing around. Hm, probably debating whether or not to tell me she's left four students out there to catch their death in this snowstorm . . ." He stroked his beard, then looked up at Harry. "Truthfully, there is a possibility that we could rescue them, but it would require a very powerful amount of magic."
"Well – you can do it, then!" said Harry hopefully.
The old man smiled. "Not even I have the power to overcome Mother Nature," he said sagely, looking out his dark, frosty window. " . . . But perhaps we can get together a group of teachers to go out there and do this rescue mission." His eyes went back to the fascinating Map. "It seems they're doing just fine at the moment though. Ginny looks quite comfortable in what appears to be Draco Malfoy's lap."
Harry paled and choked. "How soon can we get this group of teachers going?"
Under the bleachers . . .
"Ginny!" Hermione squealed from the front. "You're awake! You're alive!"
"Am I?" Ginny groaned, dazed. "Doesn't feel like it." She felt so numb, almost dead. She was beginning to feel warmer, though, thanks to a thick camel hair cloak and – someone's arms?
"Feeling better?" said Draco, against whom Ginny was still leaning.
"Eek!" Ginny shrieked, immediately rocketing forward and away from him. "Whaddayadoing?" she squeaked, panicky.
"Jeez, I was just – okay, I was under Hermione's orders, all right? Zarquon, the only reason you're not dead is because we're all hugging you - "
"Okay, okay, I get it," Ginny huffed. "I just – fell asleep for a bit." The icy air felt like sharp knives in her lungs as she gasped for breath.
"And almost died in the process," Ron said under his breath.
"None of you – fell asleep?" Ginny could hear the rustle of their cloaks as they all shook their heads. "Well, how long did I nap for?"
"Probably fifteen, twenty minutes," Hermione estimated. "And Malfoy's right, I told him to keep you nice and warm. The boys have more body fat than we do - "
"Hey!" Draco protested.
"It's not like we're Dudleys!" Ron said contemptuously, remembering Harry's cousin.
"Not like we're what?" Draco asked, confounded.
" – and SO Ron's keeping me warm and Draco's, ah, keeping you warm," Hermione finished lamely.
"Why do you get Ron?" Ginny blurted.
"Look, I wasn't – feeling you up, Weasel. I'm not a monster," Draco cut in, a hint of bitterness in his voice.
"I never said you were," Ginny replied curtly. "I was only asking what Hermione's basis for these decisions were. I mean, you'd think that brother and sister would go together . . . Well, I suppose it doesn't really matter." She struggled with herself for a second. "And I suppose I owe you a thank-you, Malfoy."
Draco thought her voice sounded curiously strained. "Well, then, I suppose I owe you a you're-welcome," he said, rather wittily, or so he thought.
"So, any plans for escape or rescue?" Ginny asked eagerly, ignoring Draco. She was forcing herself to keep awake. "Has the storm died down a bit?"
"If anything, it's gotten worse," Hermione said from the front. She leaned back into Ron, who pulled her closer. The wind continued to scream outside their haven beneath the bleachers. There's a bit of wind tunnel under here, Hermione observed. She was chilled to the bone, but Ron helped.
"What about the brooms?" Ginny asked brightly. "We could - "
"We went through this while you were asleep, Weasley," Draco interrupted. "They're buried beneath about a mile of snow by now."
Hermione smiled. "You and Ron really think alike, huh, Ginny?"
"I guess . . ." Ginny conceded. She noted the absence of heavy, warm arms around her waist. "Hey, Malfoy, what happened to keeping me warm?"
Draco was caught by surprise. "I thought you hated it."
"It's not being warm that I hate," she said cryptically. "Well, come on then. And whose coat is this? It's really rather nice."
"It's mine, and why are you talking like that?" Draco demanded. He put his arms loosely around her waist. "You sound like you just inhaled helium."
"I'm trying to keep myself awake so I don't fall asleep and die." Ginny rearranged Draco's arms so they were tighter and, once satisfied, put her own around her brother in front of her. "So, we're just out here, having a hug-fest?"
"Well, we've got to keep warm, and I read somewhere about these people who got lost in the forest and kept themselves alive all night like this." It was, of course, Hermione who said this.
"The forest? Well – are you sure they weren't sleeping like this to keep away werewolves, or something?" Draco asked dubiously.
"Firstly, it was freezing cold in the forest because it was wintertime," Hermione answered, rather sternly, Draco thought. "And secondly, have you never heard of werewolf prejudice? Because you've got a bad case of it, Ferret-fa - "
"Well, I'm sorry, Bucky, but I don't go around making friends with dangerous half-breeds, noble though it may be," Draco shot back.
"Did you just call her 'Bucky'?" Ginny asked before Hermione stood up and slapped Draco.
"Uh – yeah," Draco said, albeit uncertainly. He never kept track of his insults.
Ginny snickered. " 'Bucky'?"
"What?" Draco said, sounding mockingly disappointed.
"You've really got to work on your insults, mate," Ron said from in front of Ginny.
Awkward silence.
"Hey, whatever happened to you singing, Weasel?" Draco asked teasingly.
"I'm not singing for you!" Ron and Ginny said in unison. Hermione laughed.
"Fine. Both of you are old fuddy-duddies," he declared. "What about you, Hermione? Can you sing a good tune?"
"Not for you, I won't," Hermione said, laughing still. "Feel free to break out the yodeling, though, Malfoy."
"I was never very good at yodeling," Draco sighed. He suddenly felt Ginny shiver.
"Is it just me, or did it just get like fifty degrees colder?" she said through chattering teeth.
Everyone paused and checked themselves.
"It does feel a little colder," Hermione agreed. "But that might be because human bodies weren't made for this sort of weather, and our body systems might be breaking down."
"Well, that's good news," said Ron sarcastically.
"Really fabulous," Ginny joined in.
"I think you just made my day," Draco finished. "Let's face it, we're dead. Soooo, who wants to hear horrible death stories? Hey, anybody know about King Edward II? They didn't want to leave any marks on his body, so they shoved a tube up his - "
"No, thank you!" chorused the three Gryffindors at once, all in varied tones of horror.
"Well, we've got to do something," Draco said. "We've got to keep talking and moving - at least a little, not so much that we exhaust ourselves – so that we can hold up in case we're rescued. Even though my lungs feel like they're burning and shriveling. Much like King Edward II's - "
"Okay, okay, let's keep talking then," Ron said hurriedly.
"I am! As I was saying - "
"Stop it!" Ginny squealed. "You're really awful, Draco, you know that?" Nevertheless, Draco swore he felt her relaxing back into him.
"I know," he said, somewhat dreamily.
Ginny clicked her tongue at his obvious self-love. "So," she said, trying to change the subject, "how long d'you reckon we've been out here?"
"We've probably been under here for an hour, maybe more than an hour," Ron guessed. He paused. "Do you really think they're going to rescue us?"
"Yes," said Hermione without hesitation. "They've got to, or else all four of our families will sue."
"Not to mention we'll all be dead," Draco muttered. Ginny gave a small snort of laughter.
"And besides, it's Dumbledore," Hermione continued. "He'll find a way."
"What's the betting Harry's staring at us in his Map?" Ginny piped up.
"Bet he got a nasty shock," Ron snickered.
"Map?" Draco questioned. Everyone else sucked in their breath, unwilling to share about Harry's prized possession. "Oh, fine," Draco huffed. "This must be some sort of secret Harry Potter Fan Club thing, isn't it?"
"Yes," Ginny replied in syrupy tones of sarcasm. "Since he has one, and all."
"Doesn't he?"
"Not that I know of."
"Hmm, then there must not be one, since you'd have been its president a long time ago," Draco mused. He distinctly felt Ginny trying to elbow him in the stomach, but her stiff cloaks prohibited her movements. "Nice try, Weasel."
Ron's mind, though slowed by the cold, began to pick up on this. Why was he suddenly calling her Weasel? He remembered Draco crying out 'Ginny' when she was out cold. He really did sound panicked then, honestly concerned. Well. That was something to think about. Obviously Malfoy didn't want to admit he was actually concerned about a fellow human being because - gasp - that would mean he actually had a heart!
"When you say Weasel," Hermione began, "do you mean Ron or Ginny? I mean, for future reference."
"Whoever's annoying me at the moment," Draco drawled, smirking even though no one could see.
"Okay, you guys, I'm really cold now," Ginny broke in. "I'm trying to keep up with you lot but I'm seriously freezing my butt off and I can't feel anything. Even with Malfoy draped over me like this."
"Do you think we should try a different formation?" Hermione piped up. "I mean, this isn't exactly ideal, is it? In a single-file line? Why don't we all share each others' body heat, get back into our small circle, or something."
"Not sure I can move," Ginny murmured.
"Well, let's all crowd around you, then, since you're the one that's suffering the most," Hermione ordered.
Ginny found herself surrounded by the other three. Draco had moved slightly to the left, his arms still around her. Ron moved backwards to her right, and Hermione turned completely around and was facing her.
"You know," said Hermione as she inched forward, trying not to bang into anyone, "you'd think someone would be out looking for us by now." The four students scooted towards each other, grateful for the new sources of heat. It was socially uncomfortable but physically ideal.
"I thought you said not even magic can conquer nature, or something?" Draco remembered.
"Well, yes, but surely some of the teachers combined could summon up enough magic to at least make a rescue mission. And if Harry's using his brains and brings out the Map, it should be easy, right?" Hermione had begun to worry. Panic had begun to set in when she discovered she could feel tiny icicles on the inside of her nostrils.
"I told you, we're going to die," Draco said bluntly.
"You really think that?" Ron couldn't understand Draco's cynicism.
"Well, as of now, yes," Draco replied, scooting a little closer to who he thought was Hermione. It didn't hit back when his knee hit hers, so he assumed it was indeed Hermione.
"And to think," Ron said sadly, "my last words could be 'You're a butthead, Malfoy!' "
Ginny giggled in spite of herself.
Hermione suddenly fell into a depressed, hopeless mood. "Ron," she said in a serious voice.
"What?" He figured she was going to get on his case about saying 'butthead'.
Hermione took a deep breath, then - to everyone's surprise - burst into the longest heartfelt apology anyone had ever heard. "I really don't want to die – or even go on living – holding a grudge against you. I know we're kind of back to normal now, but – that fight in the hall, I really didn't mean what I said to you. It was cruel, and it was thoughtless, and I know I've apologized to you before, but I know you're still mad at me."
Ron could say nothing. He was flabbergasted at Hermione's sudden mood change.
"And," Hermione continued, "I can understand if you can't forgive me because the things I said are unforgivable. But if we're really going to die, I couldn't stand dying without knowing I at least apologized to you once more."
Draco's mouth had fallen agape at Hermione's sudden outpouring. Ginny, too, was nothing short of extremely surprised.
Ron cleared his throat. "Hermione, I - I forgive you," he said simply. "And I'm sorry I didn't sooner, I just . . . I don't know. And I'm sorry for whatever I said, too." It seemed as though a weight was lifted from his shoulders. He felt much better despite the fact that his toes had most likely fallen off in his boots.
Hermione was suddenly flushed with warmth. "Oh, it doesn't matter, I don't even remember what you said to me. Oh, Ron, thank you!" She leaned over and hugged Draco.
"Hey!" Draco yelped.
"Oh – sorry!" Hermione snapped her arms back, then flung them at Ron, who was still shell-shocked. He hugged her awkwardly back. When she finally released, he kept one arm around her waist, under the pretense of keeping her warm. Or so he told himself.
Hermione sniffled. "I'm glad that's cleared up. My conscience is clean. Mostly."
"Mostly?" Draco said, finding his voice again.
"Er, yeah." She flicked a stray, frozen tear off her face. She could imagine the pretty purple her cheeks must be and the lovely shade of lilac her chapped lips were. "When we get closer to death maybe I'll, uh, clean it completely."
Draco raised a frosty eyebrow.
Ron was still reeling from what had just happened. He was never very good at emotional stuff and took a long time recovering.Ginny buried her face in her coat sleeves – well, Draco's coat sleeves – partly because her nose was threatening to jump ship, and partly because she was feeling guilty and obligated all at the same time.
If Hermione could apologize like that, then certainly she could! She needed to apologize to Draco for all the nasty things she'd said. It was his fault, mostly, for slapping her; but still . . .
"Malfoy . . ." she began.
"What?" he said back, preparing himself for another outpouring of emotion to match Hermione's.
But Ginny chickened out at the last minute. "Do you want your coat back?" she asked lamely. Dang it! I'm such a weiner.
Draco was a little taken aback, wondering if there was something else meant by the question. Girls were weird that way, hiding bucketfuls of emotion in questions about coats. "Er, no, you can keep it. I don't need it," he replied awkwardly. "Heaven forbid you fall asleep again."
Ginny wasn't entirely certain that he was kidding. "Yeah, I'll probably die if I do," she sighed. She was serious. "But you're really sure? I mean – you've got a sweater on or something, right?"
Why was she suddenly so concerned with his clothes? Draco's eyes widened despite himself as he tried to extinguish the first thought that popped into his dirty mind. "Uh, yeah, I've got about five on, actually. I bundled up a bit."
"A bit?" Ron snorted.
Ginny rearranged her legs, tucking her knees up to her chest. She wrapped her own arms around herself, over Draco's.
Draco was surprised at this small action, but felt oddly comforted. He suddenly realized how very close he was to the girl, and with that realization came his conscience's orders. He had to apologize for slapping her, or else he couldn't live with himself. He had to, sometime tonight. Preferably before their snowy demise.
"Ginny . . ." he began.
A/N: Bit of a long one, at least compared to my other chapters. Hopefully it wasn't boring. I can't ever tell if my writing is boring or not. Would anyone like to be an all-purpose FanFiction preview/beta reader so they can criticize my work and tell me what parts they like/hate/want to plagiarize (as if)??? That would be a grrrreat favor if anyone wants to take a little time. If this sounds like something you'd be interested in doing, please leave me a note in a review or email me and we can work something out! ("We can work it out, we can work it oouut . . .")
"Zarquon" isn't mine, it belongs to Douglas Adams, who is only the funniest and cleverest sci-fi writer ever. Someday I'll write a story in the Hitchhiker section of fanfiction.
Replies to Reviewers:
Storymind: Yeah, I had to get Harry's POV in there too. I'm not very good at heart-to-hearts but as long as they end mushily it works for me. :) Kisses coming soon. I want to keep the dialogue/action semi-realistic . . . OK, so I haven't really, but oh well. ;)
Legolas-is-to-hot-4-u: Oh, man, Legolas is too hot for everybody. ("I'm . . . too sexy for my shirt . . .") I think I love him. Then again, so does half the world . . . Yeah, Harry's got a rather overactive imagination! Who knew?!
Thanks to both for reviewing! You're my heroes! 3 3 3