The Phoenix and Turtle
Chapter Nine
Winter Wonderland
"Gone away is the bluebird
Here to stay is the new bird
He sings a love song, as we go along
Walking in a Winter Wonderland"
Bing Crosby
As a little girl, Hermione had always shunned the sweat-covered socks, itchy grass and hide and go seek games of summer for a good book. The soft warm rains of spring never tempted her away from her bevy of novelettes and projects, and she had always preferred the feel of a pencil and the smell of a new rubber eraser to the colorful leaf piles that the other neighborhood children so loved to jump in.
But every year, her parents would buy her a set of mittens and matching hat--perhaps a scarf if she didn't want the money to buy a new paperback. Because each winter, Hermione would abandon the cushy red chair in the nook in her living room that she spent so much curled up in. She would don boots and a thick coat, make her mother promise to boil water for hot cocoa, and race out into the first snowfall of the year, and each after that.
To her, snow was fascinating. Mathematically logical, scientifically explainable, and yet--- holding a certain magical quality that she found undeniably mesmerizing. The seven year old Hermione would spend hours outside, her head tipped up, watching the graying sky turn darker and darker. She expected herself to always look forward to the icy kiss of Jack Frost and the welcome sight of a winter wonderland.
"Bloody buggering hell."
Draco looked up from the patch of Sittlecotes that he had been searching for blooms, a look of complete surprise on his face as he studied the girl cursing so fluently beside him.
"Tssk tssk Granger," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "I'm sure that the ambiguously gay duo would be quite disappointed at your use of language."
Hermione scowled at him through several layers of clothing and threw the scarf around her face to shield her nose and mouth from the bitterly cold wind.
"Grr frmk yrmsulf," came the muffled reply as she reached down to pick two more of the delicate white flowers.
"What was that?"
Hermione looked up at the boy standing next to her, and the frown lines furrowed deeper into her forehead.
"I said, Malfoy, to go--"
But before she could finish, they both noticed a smiling Hagrid walking towards them across the snowy embankments, his huge feet sending swirls of snow into the air with every step.
"If I ever meet him in a dark alley, I swear to Merlin he will pay for this . . . this torture," Draco hissed under his breath, and Hermione snorted.
"Like you could ever make Hagrid pay for anything Malfoy, even in the darkest alley," she said softly, smirking slightly as he glared back at her.
"Now, aren't you glad I convinced McGonagall to let you serve yer detention outside in this lovely weather rather than with Flitwick?" Hagrid asked as he stopped in front of them, his cheeks rosy from the bitter weather.
Hermione suddenly found herself agreeing with Malfoy as they both surveyed the almost gleeful half-giant bouncing from foot to foot in front of them.
"Now, if you don't mind Hermione, I've got ter get back to my cabin. Fang can't stand the cold weather," Hagrid said, ignoring the harsh looks on the faces of the students before him. "Are you sure yer goin' ter be alright with--" he motioned to the blond Slytherin beside her "--that one?"
Draco scowled.
"You should be more worried about my life, Gamekeeper," he said, his voice harsh as his teeth chattered from the cold. "From the words coming so elegantly from her mouth a moment ago, I can only guess that, beneath all those layers of wool and cotton, there lies a very crude and very rough sailor rather than your Granger."
"You shut yer mouth Malfoy," Hagrid said, and Draco rolled his eyes. The large Care of Magical Creatures teacher looked back over at Hermione.
"Will you be okay?" he asked again.
Hermione bit her lip in an effort not to snap at him. She had put on so many layers of clothes that she looked and felt like an enormous puff ball, and yet it still seemed that her whole body was freezing and wet. She was about to be left alone in the middle of a blizzard with the most annoying boy alive, and all that her completely dazed and disoriented brain could think about was how warm his pink-tinged cheeks might feel if she rubbed her nose against them.
But instead of throwing a tantrum in the middle of the Hogwart's school grounds--which was awfully tempting--the Head Girl clenched her fists and nodded her head, tasting blood as she bit down even harder on her lip.
It was evidently enough for Hagrid. His smile that had slightly wavered as she contemplated yelling at him immediately returned at her acknowledgement.
"I'll come get yeh when yer detention's over," he said, his voice nearly disappearing in the wind as he hurried back towards his cabin.
Hermione and Draco returned to work, each relatively silent as they tried to beat back thoughts of the cold harsh winds that seemed to be coming from all sides. It was not until Hermione got close enough to Draco that she heard him muttering indistinctly to himself.
"What are you doing?" she asked, puzzled and growing more amused by the minute as she watched the blond Slytherin beside her blush slightly.
"I wasn't doing anything," he muttered quickly, hastily turning his back and mentally cursing himself for doing something so stupid.
Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Malfoy, unless you want the whole school to know that you spend your detentions speaking to an imaginary friend, I suggest you explain to me exactly what it was I just heard."
For a few moments, Hermione thought he actually was going to ignore her until she heard him mumble slightly again under his breath.
"What?" she asked, half-forgetting the onslaught of snowflakes and unwrapping the scarf around her face so she could properly see him.
"I was singing," he snapped loudly as he turned around, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.
Hermione choked back a laugh, her eyes nearly popping out as she stared at Draco. Fighting to keep the giggles at bay, she quickly put her gloved hand up to hide the smile growing on her face.
"Singing what exactly?" she asked, the muffled question just loud enough for him to hear.
And suddenly, without any warning, Hermione heard the slightly off-key, yet familiar, tune that she had not recognized as more than a murmur before.
"The weather outside is frightful--"
It was hardly louder than a whisper and Draco wouldn't look up from the ground as Hermione tried to stop herself from laughing.
"--and the fire is so delightful--"
It was unbelievable. The so-called Prince of Slytherin, heir to the Malfoy line and arch-enemy of her best friend was standing before her . . . singing.
"--but as long as you love me so--"
And not only that, he was singing . . .
"-let it snow, let it snow, let it snow."
" . . . A muggle song" she said, her hand dropping from her mouth.
Draco, perhaps if only surprised that she wasn't yet in fits of giggles on the ground, looked up at Hermione.
"What did you say?" he asked, he voice soft as he tried to recover any sliver of pride left.
"You were singing--" Hermione began, her face a mask of surprise, "--a muggle song."
"Just because a stupid muggle sometimes stumbles upon something of the wizarding world and passes it off as his own doesn't mean it makes it any less good," Draco snapped harshly as he tried to regain some composure.
"You mean that song was written by a wizard?" she asked curiously, ignoring the fact that Draco looked ready to kill her for her discovery.
"Bloody right," he said. "My mother said that you can keep warm by singing," he continued. "Better than your people's way of rubbing two stupid sticks together."
"That's a horrible comparison," Hermione said immediately. "And I've never heard anyone say that singing can somehow keep you warm in cold weather."
"Well, that just shows you how many truly intelligent people you've actually met," Draco sniffed snottily and suddenly Hermione remembered who she was talking to.
"Perhaps a good singing voice can keep a person warm . . ." she began, too tired to think of anything more scathing to say.
Draco scowled at her. "What do you mean by that?" he asked owlishly as he swiped a snowflake off of the tip of his nose.
"Just that, perhaps, you weren't doing the song justice," Hermione said airily as she looked down to haughtily study her nails--and then realized that she was still wearing gloves.
"I sing like an angel," Draco retorted, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he took a step closer to Hermione.
She snorted.
"There is nothing about you, Malfoy, that even remotely resembles anything angelic," she scoffed, but, at the moment she said it, she knew she was lying.
Whether Hermione wanted to admit it to herself or not, Draco Malfoy looked too much like an angel for her taste--especially with the wind dying down and the snow falling peacefully around his pale face.
"--ke you could do any better Granger."
A harsh voice jolted the girl back to reality, and she shook her head slightly--if only to keep the snow from collecting.
Malfoy was sneering at her, and she could only wonder how much more of his torture she could take.
"At least I don't go frolicking around snow banks, singing carols like a complete fairy," she said coolly, watching his eyes narrow at the insult.
"You know Granger," he began, and Hermione braced herself for another verbal battle. "You're really not worth it."
And before she could really even ascertain his movements, he had brushed past her to begin examining the patch of Sittlecotes again.
And Hermione's mind attributed the sudden, biting pain she felt to the cold wind that had come back again, blowing harder against both their faces than it ever had before.
After what seemed like hours of silence, Draco finally looked up from the plants in front of him, now void of all blooms. Sighing as he saw Hermione's face tighten as they momentarily met each other's eyes, he knew immediately that his own mouth had made his detention much harder.
Hearing a snort from Hermione as she turned away from him, Draco rolled his eyes and walked towards her.
"Come on Granger, stop being such a cow," he said, grabbing her elbow to spin her around.
She immediately jerked out of his grip as soon as she faced him, and Draco thought perhaps the false rumor he had spread a year before that she was half-werewolf might just be true: she seemed ready to rip his throat out.
"Don't touch me," she snapped, her cheeks red from the cold, and her eyes sparking with anger. Draco watched as a small snowflake fell softly to rest near her lips, and he felt the unwanted urge to reach out and brush it away, perhaps to even--
"Draco!" Hermione's shriek caused his eyes to jerk up from where they had rested on her lips, and back to the furious gaze that he guessed she saved for him alone.
"We wouldn't have to even talk so much if you would just give me that blasted map," he snarked as malevolently as he could.
Hermione only rolled her eyes.
"Hagrid trusted me with the map," she said superiorly, "and I've already let you look at it twice."
"Well I've forgotten where the last two patches were," Draco gritted out, "and I'm too turned around here anyway." He clenched his fists as he watched the girl in front of him sniff haughtily.
"Just because you have a bad sense of direction, Malfoy, doesn't mean that I have to humor you," she said, and Malfoy suddenly felt like grabbing her by her soft, warm brown hair and tugging hard until she gave him what he wanted.
"Granger, just give me the map," he said, realizing now that without it, the only way he could find the last two patches of Sittlecote--or the way back to the castle--was to follow the muggleborn around her like a dog. And Draco Malfoy was no dog.
Hermione sighed. "Fine" she said, reaching into the first of many cloaks that she was nestled within and pulling out a folded piece of parchment.
"Ah-ha!" Draco said quickly, trying to snatch the map away from her grasp the moment it came into view.
The same moment a very large gust of wind blew through across the field they were both standing in. The same moment Hermione's gloved hands accidentally let the parchment slip.
"Oh bugger," said Hermione, mentally berating herself for cursing so much. "Now look what you did Malfoy," she snapped as they watch the thin parchment fly up into the sky and out of their sight.
Draco felt all hope drain out of him as another gust of wind blew up snow, completely disguising where the map might have gone. He turned towards Hermione, terror written across the features of his face.
"We'll be lost out here forever," he began, spinning around wildly to spot a glimpse of the castle turrets. There was nothing but snow and wind and trees in view.
"No one will be able to find us, and without the map we won't be able to get back--"
"Malfoy . . ."
"And I'll have to find shelter from the cold with her of all people--"
"Malfoy."
"And we'll run out of food and begin the slow, painful process of freezing to death--"
"Draco Malfoy, will you shut up for just a moment!"
But he wasn't paying Hermione any attention.
"--And then we'll both starve, and, because of the primitive background you've come from, you'll try to eat me, and--"
" 'ermione? Malfoy? Yer detentions over, you ken come back ter the castle now," said a voice, and Draco whirled around quickly.
Hagrid had been standing behind him, and Draco saw, now that the wind had died down, the outline of the gamekeeper's cabin in the distance.
He looked over quickly to Hermione, who was trying her hardest not to laugh, but rather to look serious and angry. It wasn't working.
"Just because you have neither a sense of direction nor any logic in that tiny brain of yours doesn't mean that you're always right," she choked out between stifled laughs as she began walking past him to follow Hagrid back to Hogwarts.
Draco's eyes narrowed as he watched her back retreat.
"One day, Granger, you will pay for all those laughs at my expense," he began, whispering fiercely under his breath. "Oh yes, one day you will feel the cold wrath of--OOF!"
And picking himself up, spitting the snow out of his mouth and loudly cursing whatever tree branch had caused him to fall face first on the cold ground, Draco followed Hermione back to the castle, his eyes narrowed as he watched her shoulders shake uncontrollably with laughter.
"I mean, it's not like we can just say 'hey, we're dating' and everyone will be okay with that. No one would be okay with that."
Draco pushed a lock of hair away from her face, resisting the temptation to pin her beneath him and rip her silly school blouse away from her body. "I wouldn't call this dating," he said grimly, his eyes meeting hers before she looked away as her cheeks turned red.
"I know you never asked for this--I know you could never have guessed that it was me or that these would be the consequences of your actions . . ." she whispered softly as she felt his hand slide further up her blouse, her breath hitching as she felt his mouth on her throat.
"I didn't," he agreed firmly, his voice slightly muffled against her skin. "But just because I had no idea what would happen if I--" he cut off sharply as she slid her own fingers below the waistline of his trousers.
"Do . . . do you think that this . . . these feelings . . . have anything to do with it?" she asked, a gasp escaping her lips as Draco's fingers slid under her bra and grazed her nipple.
"Does it matter?" he asked suddenly, raising his face to meet her eyes.
Instead of answering, she brought her hands up, away from his waist and wrapped them around his head, pulling him into a fierce kiss.
The silent "no" echoed throughout the quiet room.
A/N: Cough Cough I'm so sorry this took so long, but a combination of moving across an ocean, an evil computer, horrible writer's block and this dire need to make this chapter really really good has delayed its posting. I know, it's still not good enough, and I didn't incorporate even half the things I had planned to but I thought hey! I bet a nice, fluffy, snowy chapter of yummy Hermione/Draco ST with a sexy little flashback at the end would be enough to satisfy for the moment. And about the fact that Draco sings--I refuse to believe that Draco is a one-dimensional character, and, I'm sorry, but everyone I know has a few (if not many many) quirks to their character. And come on--who doesn't want to picture Tom Felton crooning carols as a Christmas present? No one? Oh, ermm, well just forget I mentioned it then. And yes, there is a slight nod to the Joss Whedon universe in Draco's actions at some parts in this chapter--please don't sue me! Anyway, I hope you guys like it and I hope it's worth all you time since I absolutely love all of you so much! 133 reviews--that's completely insane! I'm doing a pretty constant happy dance because of it. Thank you and loves,
--Taelyn