Courting Miss Granger-Chapter 19-The Ice Queen Cometh
By Marmalade Fever
New Years Day found Draco Malfoy at his parents' house awaiting the arrival of Antoine Bellover. His mother sat beside him while his father stood across the room, leaning leisurely against the piano. "I must say, Draco," he said, "I am very pleased with your work on switching brides to be. This plan of yours is pure genius."
"Thank you, Father," Draco said, though he didn't look or feel especially happy from the praise. He had sunk into a state of indifference. Frankly, he didn't feel like he even cared what Antoine Bellover was like. He had spent too much time trying to ensure a happy marriage already to make the same effort. He really just wanted to marry and get on with his life.
"Here they come now," his father said, crossing to the window and spotting two lone figures in the snow. Draco looked as well, noting that one of them was heavily wrapped and the other had his wand out in an effort to keep the first from overexertion.
"Lucius, I really think that you should have let them floo in, the poor girl has been through quite an ordeal," his mother commented.
"Have you ever tried to adjust the floo network during the holidays, Narcissa? It would have been too much of a bother." The two figures had at last made it into the expansive house. "To your feet, Draco, these are your in-laws, after all."
Draco reluctantly stood, still scowling. He continued to do so until the tiny house-elf of theirs announced his bride-to-be and her father. He crossed his arms and waited. First came an elderly man of around sixty-five. This was obviously Mr. Bellover. He looked slightly familiar, but Draco highly doubted that he had ever been a Death-Eater. He had an unshaven look to him and watery eyes. He gave a slight nod to everyone before beckoning his daughter into the room.
For some odd reason, Draco had thus far imagined Antoine to be a tall, blonde, tan air-head with more fashion sense than anything. Instead, the girl who entered the room was only one of the above. She had slightly wavy blond hair and was about five foot four. Her appearance, however, would suggest anything but an airhead. She wore a pair of glasses and, beneath the many layers of cloaks, wore a simple pair of black robes. She was only wearing the most minimal amount of make-up, too. She approached his father and stuck out her hand, "Mr. Malfoy?" Her voice, though sounding slightly out-of-breath, also sounded perfectly intelligent. In short, Draco realized with pain, she seemed very nearly like Hermione.
"It's very nice to meet you, Miss Bellover," his father replied, shaking her hand. "May I introduce you to my son, Draco?" He led her by the hand to Draco, who shook as well. Her hand, he noted, was nearly ice-cold. He permitted himself to give her a wane smile, which she returned.
"You're feeling well, I hope?" Draco asked, after they were seated.
"About as well as anyone could be after being frozen for two years," she said, adding a small, nervous laugh. Draco noticed that she was shaking ever so slightly. Poor girl, he couldn't help but think.
"How did that happen, anyway?" he asked.
"Well," she began, "I was doing some research for my lab on magical plants that can withstand subzero temperatures." She's a scientist! Now he'd definitely not been expecting that one. "I found what looked like a cuamcoluar, which is a fern of sorts that sends out shoots that catch snowflakes, but I realized at the last second that it wasn't. It was actually a fruamcoluar, which is a fern that sends out shoots that catch prey. I'm afraid that I got a little too close to it. Fruamcoluars are supposed to be tropical, but this one seemed to have a strain of something else in it. I wasn't expecting it to attack me and in my haste my wand snapped. It managed to drag me underground and into its root lair. Luckily, I had packed a small vile of multipurpose weed killer, which I used to keep it from starting its digestive process. Unfortunately though, the sudden shriveling of the roots sent the snow toppling onto me. I would have died except that I had taken a pill that morning just in case an accident like that occurred. It kept me alive, in a frozen state, but alive, nonetheless." Unwittingly, Draco's jaw had dropped. Here he'd been thinking that it had been a holidaying accident or something. This though, this was actually rather impressive. By the looks of it, he wasn't the only one who thought so either.
"You, dear, dear girl!" his mother cooed, coming over to sit next to her.
"That's amazing," his father breathed. Draco thought it was amazing that he would give such high praise to her! "A fruamcoluar in the arctic! Now that is interesting."
"I think so too. As soon as I'm back on my feet, so to speak, I'd like to make a return visit with a team and get a sample to bring back to the lab."
"I'd be very interested in going with you," his father replied. He did indeed look interested at that. The rapt attention that he was giving her made Draco rather uneasy. He cleared his throat. "Oh yes, the matter at hand," his father said, "we are very glad to hear that you have agreed to our conditions about the marriage."
To Draco's delight, Antoine looked like she had swallowed a bug. She turned her head to her own father with such speed that if she had not been thoroughly thawed it could have snapped. "Er," Mr. Bellover said, "I was meaning to mention that to you..."
"You didn't tell her?" Draco's own father said, blinking in a you-better-remember-our-agreement-or-suffer-my-wrath sort of way.
"Well, dear," Mr. Bellover said, turning to his daughter, nervously, "Draco here's in a bit of a gherkin, er, excuse me, a pickle I mean, and needs to get married. So, anyway, I thought that you, er, might be grateful to have the opportunity..."
"What sort of," she held up a few fingers for quotation marks, "'gherkin' are we talking about here?"
Draco tuned out as his father, once again, explained the Malfoy Marriage Contract. "And so you see, that's where you come in."
"And there's no one else? I find that rather hard to believe, especially since you only found out that I was available a week ago, and you certainly don't look like you had been planning a funeral! No offense," she added, giving Draco a look.
"Well, there is one other candidate, but we've found you to be much more suitable," his father answered.
"That seems like a rather rash decision; you hardly even know me!" Her face was puffed up and her father seemed to be praying, with his eyes turned toward the heavens. "Wait a second," she said, eyeing each of them individually, "let me guess... She's muggleborn, isn't she?" No one made any indication to deny her accusation. "In that case, I understand completely." Draco jerked so suddenly he thought he had whip-lash. "Blood purity is very important. As a scientist, I deal with it all the time with my plants. No blood, of course, but their genes. It's just like that fruamcoluar. If it hadn't been crossed, it wouldn't have been able to exist in such conditions. Of course, it is often essential to science to cross-breed plants and come up with newer and better ones. But it is also essential to keep the originals in tact. After all, don't muggles pay much more for purebred dogs than mutts?"
"I agree entirely," Draco's father said, nodding.
"That's exactly what I've always thought!" his mother said, also nodding.
Draco felt a wave of sickness wash over him. He wasn't entirely sure why, but he suddenly felt an intense dislike towards Antoine. The way she was talking, it was as if she viewed the entire human race as animals and nothing more. It didn't even sound like the reason she could understand not wanting to marry a mudblood had to do with prejudice. No, this was something entirely different. Whatever it was, he didn't like it.
"In that case, perhaps an arrangement can be made after all. It's very rare for me to find anyone who understands my views on blood purity," she said. He noticed that her hands were shaking still.
"In that case," his father said, standing, "why don't we leave you two to get to know one another better? Narcissa, Andre, if you'd like to come with me, please?" The three parents ushered themselves out of the room, looking excited about the arrangement. Now it was just the two of them, and the discomfort was so thick it could have been cut with a knife.
"Excuse me just a moment," Antoine said, reaching down and opening a small handbag that was on her lap. She drew out a bottle of pepper-up potion. She took a bit and Draco watched silently as a billow of steam left either of her ears. "That's much better," she said, closing her eyes as if savoring the sudden warmth that flooded her. "I'm supposed to take some every twelve hours for the next three months or so," she explained. "So," she said, noticing his silent observation of her, "tell me about her."
"Who?" Draco asked, heart suddenly thumping ever so slightly faster.
"This other girl that you were engaged to. What was her name? I don't know that many kids who went to Hogwarts; I went to Beauxbatons, myself, but you never know."
"Hermione Granger," he replied, hoping his voice sounded as void of emotions as he hoped.
"No," she said, shaking her head, "I suppose I really only know of Harry Potter."
"I happen to hate his guts," Draco said, so flatly he thought she'd be appalled.
"Well, go on, tell me about this Hermione," she urged, shrugging off the Harry Potter comment.
"She's one of his best friends, Potter's I mean. A real brain..." If he thought that the brain comment would get a rouse out of this other brainy woman, he thought wrong.
"I take it you didn't get along at school?" she asked. Who did she think she was, a psychiatrist?
"To put it lightly. The Golden Trio and I are what you'd call enemies."
"Trio?"
"There are three of them. Potter, Weasley, and Granger."
"Huh," she said slowly, "then I can only imagine how well she took the engagement. How'd you ever convince her?"
"Combination of death threats, and..."
"And?" she asked.
A sense of foreboding was creeping into him. "And trying to make her fall in love with me," he finished.
"It looks like it backfired," she said, smiling in a dangerous way. "You must both be heartbroken." Now she'd done it.
"Excuse me?" Draco asked, crossing his arms and giving her a death-look.
"Judging by your attitude, I think its pretty safe to say that she didn't leave your heart without doing some damage. You say that she's a muggleborn? I think that between that and the old rivalry, it took a lot of wall-breaking to even get the relationship rolling. Now, suddenly, you have to build those walls back up. It's all very interesting, from a scientific stand-point." She sat there, looking smug and cold, with a smarter-than-you look on her face.
"I think you're reading way too much into this," Draco said, lowering his voice to danger level.
"I'll believe you if you can honestly tell me that you have no feelings for her, and let me note that hate is a feeling. I'm a believer in the fine line between love and hate analogy. It's hard to separate the two back out once the drawbridge has been lowered. So tell me, do you have any feelings toward her?"
Why did all of these fiancées have to be so difficult? "I think I made it quite clear that I hold no positive emotions toward her," he said with a huff.
"But emotions none-the-less. Was she attractive?" Didn't she know how far was too far to push a topic?
"In her own plain way, I suppose." He was still giving her that death-glare, but she wasn't backing down!
"That's the saddest thing I've ever heard. Boy and girl hate each other. Boy and girl forced into relationship. Boy and girl forced out of relationship. Boy denies feelings. Girl, well, I wouldn't know."
"Will you get off it already!" He had stood up, brandishing his full height. She'd actually mentioned the denial thing. What was it with women and denial? HE WAS NOT IN DENIAL.
Antoine laughed in triumph. "There, you see? That proves it," she said with a grin. "My, you must really love her."
Draco actually bared his teeth. He was having quite enough of women. At least with men it wasn't considered improper of him to curse them to kingdom come if they pulled a stunt like this. "Are you going to marry me or not?" he said through his teeth.
"Well," she said, still grinning, "despite the fact that I think I'd be doing you a favor by refusing, I really don't think your father would give me the choice. Anyway, you rather amuse me. And what with the fact that you're a pureblood and all, I think I'll have to accept your glorious proposal."
"About bloody time," Draco said, kneading his forehead with his knuckles. He looked up as the door to the room opened and their parents entered.
"Everything settled?" his father asked, looking between them.
"Oh yes, we've come to an agreement," Antoine said, her grin still in place.
"Good, very good," his father said with a nod. "The wedding will be April 1st, here at the manor." Draco jerked suddenly, spilling the tea he had been fondling. "Problem son?"
"Well, no, it's just... Honestly, why are we keeping the same date?" he blurted, allowing his guard to drop.
"No particular reason, but I really don't see what the problem is. Everything is already arranged. Now, I think it's high-time that Andre and Antoine left. I'm sure you could do with some bed-rest?" he asked, turning to Draco's newest fiancee.
"Oh yes, thank you." The two Bellovers rose and left the room. Draco groaned and wished that this whole nightmare would just come to an end.
