A/n- Okay, let me say THANK YOU! to everyone who has reviewed and who will review- you guys make my day!
Disclaimer: You make me laugh.
Summary: The onset of winter, around a month after the previous chapter. I'm trying to keep a timeline for this, but it's a loose timeline!
Jackknifed
It had started.
Slowly at first, a weak heartbeat against thin veins.
It began mid-morning, around nine, as the students milled about, both dreading and anticipating morning classes.
The first drop fell then, splattering upon a lone student's forehead, trickling down their cheek.
Tentatively the student touched the rivulet of water, looking at their hand, perplexed. Their gaze then turned skyward.
A mass of bodies started for the Entrance Hall, clamoring books and unfinished homework back into their bags lest the rain take them.
Drops fell more steadily now, drenching the late starters in a chilled embrace as the sky turned gray and the clouds rolled ominously overhead.
The swarm pushed through the double doors into the castle, all struggling to escape the wet. Yet, Draco stood, stark contrast to the panic of the others, just outside those doors, shielded from the now sheeting rain by the stone buttresses above.
His arms were folded against his chest as he looked, brooding, out at the darkening land.
He smiled, his chest heaving as the feral smell of dampness reached him.
.o.o.o.o.
"I heard the match is going to be canceled."
"Are you sure?"
Harry nodded and Ron gave a low whistle.
"Can't they just… magic it away or something?"
"It's rain, Ronald. You can't 'magic away' the rain."
"She's got a point." Harry smiled, dipping his quill into the ink blotter, dragging the tip across his parchment.
"It's rain, Ronald. Yeah, I got it." Ron sank a bit lower in his seat, arms folded.
The room illuminated for a stark moment as a sharp jolt of silver streaked the sky, light filtering in through the small Potion's room windows.
One one-thousand.
Two one-thousand.
The sky above bellowed.
"I particularly like the rain." Hermione wondered allowed, staring out into space."
"You would." Ron snorted.
"There's just something so unpredictable about it."
"You're not unpredictable."
Why did that sound so familiar?
Hermione was just about to open her mouth and retort with an 'I can be unpredictable if I want, Ronald' but was cut off by Snapes' chair squeaking a bit too obnoxiously.
"I see how the weather can be so… fascinating, but if you wouldn't mind…" He leaned out of his chair behind his desk over at the trio. "Finish copying down your notes!" His low hiss carried well over to those seated at the back of the room.
Hermione stifled an eye roll, and bit her lip, refocusing on her parchment.
The clouds cracked again outside, rattling the windows.
Was it only just afternoon?
The class murmured louder when the thunder sounded even closer that time.
Snape snapped his book closed, furious. Pushing back from his desk he walked over to the chalk board and wiped it clean with a wave of his wand. Folding his arms, he turned to glare at the incredulous looks he was getting from the students who were in mid-sentence of line four on the bored.
"Seeing how all of you are clearly done with your notes, it is now time to partner up and gather the ingredients you have copied down into separate containers to be used in tomorrow's potion. Pair up!"
A tumult of groaning was heard at this for, clearly, almost no one was finished when the board was cleaned.
Harry and Ron looked hopefully at Hermione for her finished copy, but she was already chatting animatedly with Parvati about their potion.
"Oh, Professor?" A voice drawled.
All heads turned in the direction of Malfoys' words, which seemed to blossom out from the caustic chatter of the class.
"Yes, Malfoy?"
Draco cleared his throat, leaning back in his chair, twirling his wand between his fingers.
"I am not working with Longbottom. I'd rather come out of this lesson with all my limbs."
It seemed that Crabb and Goyle had already paired up and Malfoy, being incessantly lazy, had waited for a different Slytherin to present themselves. However, when the class had settled, Neville was the only one left.
Snape sniffed in through his long nose.
"Well?" The man said to the Slytherin, his brow raised, waiting for him to choose a new partner.
Malfoy furrowed his brow for a moment, eyes roaming about the room, falling on Goyle who was trying—and failing—to pull out the cork of his inkbottle. Malfoy inwardly grimaced. Turning his gaze from the other boy, he settled on another figure.
He grinned.
"Granger."
The class held their breath.
Perhaps they had heard wrong? Perhaps he had made a mistake?
"Miss Granger!"
Hermione looked slack jawed up at Snape.
"But Professor! I'm with P—"
"Now."
Hermione gave a resigned smile at Parvati and picked up her books. The other girl watched in silent horror as her A-plus slowly walked off only to be replaced by a partner that would surely equate a fail. Neville smiled hopefully at the girl, moving to sit at the newly unoccupied chair. But, slipping a bit in the process, he nearly fell over.
Parvati hung her head.
Across the room Hermione slouched into a chair next to Malfoy. She gave him a disapproving look before dumping her books onto the desk, the massive pile drowning his work.
"I hope you know what your doing!" She hissed under her breath, fully aware that everyone was still silent, still staring at them.
"I always do." Malfoy said, plucking her notes from the table.
Humph. Hermione thought.
Slowly, the class seemed to recover from their shock. Malfoy simply wanted a good grade. Nothing unusual about that
"Here." Malfoy said, placing a small empty bottle in front of Hermione, reaching for a cutting board to chop up a few handfuls of roots.
"We're doing a potion together." Hermione murmured under her breath. It wasn't a question, or a statement; it was more to herself then to the boy next to her.
Malfoy opened his eyes wide and nodded absently at her.
Their friendship had leveled out since the first month they had met. They didn't meet religiously every night but rendezvoused two or three times a week up at the Owlry.
Still, it was unnerving to sit next to each other without throwing highly questionable barbs…or helping each other with particularly challenging homework.
"When you're done with that," Hermione noted. "I need two spoonfuls put in the glass jar."
"How many?" Draco murmured as he carefully used a little knife to scrape off the root's skin.
"Two."
Hermione nodded as she reached around Draco's arm for another jar. She nudged aside his sleeve, picking it up delicately with a finger and reaching around it to the other side of the table.
"Do you want to meet tonight?"
Hermione glanced at Malfoy.
"It's raining." She took a few roots and bottled them. Looking up she caught Harry's eye. He smiled at her and waved, rolling his eyes at Malfoy as if to say 'sorry about that'.
"So?" Draco questioned.
Hermione felt a thrill of terror as Draco poked her hand; the roots finished and waiting to be bottled. Harry, who glanced down at the pairs' table, noted the slight gesture. Hermione yanked her hand away from Malfoy and gave him a scathing look.
Harry smirked and shook his head, looking back down at his notes.
He didn't see the pained look on Malfoy's face.
"What was that for?" The boy asked, leeks spilled all over the table from Hermione's movement.
"Sorry." She muttered hastily, pushing the bottle towards him.
They fell silent for a few moments, Hermione torn between finishing prepping the potion and apologizing to Malfoy. She didn't need him being too familiar with everyone watching.
She had to remain cold.
Stoic.
"You didn't answer me." Malfoy said, a cool tone lacing his words, a slight edge to his voice.
"Uhn?"
"I asked why it mattered if it was raining."
Hermione scoffed.
Draco gave her a look. "What! I mean it."
"Because…" Hermione gathered up the filled bottled, labeling them delicately with her wand.
She didn't finish her sentence before she was cut off.
"Meet me."
"Where?" Hermione blurted out without thinking. They had been whispering quietly before but her sudden words were a little louder then planned. A few heads moved in their direction but then lost interest, chalking up the outburst to petty hate.
Malfoy grinned at her.
"Entrance Hall."
Not the Owlry?
"Al—alright."
Draco was nearly jovial as he waved around his little knife, splitting open another root. Hermione flinched away as the blade glinted in the light.
The sky crackled, making her jump.
A/n- this chapter was kind of filler but the next one… well, do you remember when Draco admitted (without really saying so) that he didn't trust Hermione?
