Chapter Ten: Castle of Ice

Draco (October 18, 3:28 p.m.)

That damned Mudblood. He had been so close, so close to completely banishing her from his mind. She was a filthy blooded witch and a Gryffindor at that. Of course they were always competing in class for the best grades, but he had never had the time or will to pay her any actual attention. And now here she was being so...so...Grangerish that she stuck out in his head like a red dot in a sea of white. He had never seen this side of her- in class she was usually so reserved-but here she was almost...free. It was difficult to stop thinking about her. He would give anything to get her annoying face out of his mind.

"Are you ready to go?" asked a witch in red. She batted her eyes at him, not so professional now that they were standing in the entrance hall, waiting for the Hogwarts broomsticks to appear.

He didn't bother responding. He could have her in an instant, not that he really wanted her. She was just like every other girl he had ever gone out with, and he was too busy with other things to really want to be with anyone.

He glanced across the hall to where Potter, Weasley, and Granger were standing. They looked like they were having a great time, the whole stupid lot of them. Why did they have to be so...well, them?

A wizard in a robe with a fur collar up to his ears, stiffly walked up to them and handed them each a broomstick with a disdainful look on his face. He clearly thought that broomsticks were not the way to travel. Draco tried to make eye contact with the man and assure him by sheer willpower that broomsticks were beneath Draco as well. The man simply glared at him.

"You were seriously great today 'Mione," came the Weasel's whining voice from across the hall.

"Thanks Ron... but how did you even watch the competition?" she responded with a giggle.

"They had some sort of live feed projected on the trees at the edge of the forest," Weasel replied. "It was weird there in the beginning. Quiet and then nothing. I about fell out of my seat."

Could they be any more awful? Yet, he couldn't help but continue to listen as they all mounted their broomsticks.

"I can't believe you and Malfoy have made it this far without killing each other," Harry laughed.

"He actually hasn't been as bad as I thought he would be," he heard Hermione say. "He's almost been...helpful."

Well what did she think I was going to do? Let her mess up the whole competition and drag the Malfoy name through mud? As if.

A whistle sounded and everyone kicked off from the ground, already shivering from the cold wind blowing. This time, the journey to the next school took a rather short time. They flew until their hands were frozen and their lips were blue, but it was the matter of a couple of hours before the landed.

Draco wished he hadn't gotten on his broom in the first place when he saw the welcome that awaited them. It was an enormous crowd of blue covered Beauxbatons students in long stiff lines, haughty glances scanning them as they arrived. They must have looked rather poor arriving on a few old broomsticks, but Draco knew that this would be the perfect crowd to wear all of his most expensive robes around.

The school itself was almost as nice as Malfoy Manor, even he had to admit. It stood on a tall hill and overlooked the expansive French town below it. It towered up to the sky, an enormous ice palace. It was frost blue and sparkling white, with streaks of magenta. It was quite literally built out of ice and crystal. An elegant spire loomed in the middle of smaller towers, separated from the rest of the school by a courtyard. At the very top was a circular balcony that extended quite a ways over the grounds. A spiraling staircase wound its way up the mountain, lined by students.

The Beauxbatons all began to sing a haunting melody as the students from the other schools passed through them and began to climb the staircase. It was not words he understood, but some ancient language from another time. A welcome fit for a king surely, but it also felt a little morbid.

By the time he reached the top of the staircase, he was exhausted. He had gone from competition to broomstick ride to stair climbing, jumping from one activity to the next with such speed that he was worn out. A wizard in the same robin's egg blue waited for them at the top of the stairs with a sign that had "Hogwarts" flowing across it an elegant, effortless scrawl. He nodded at them when they reached the top of the stairs and whipped around with a crisp swish of his small cape. Dumbledore quickly turned to the right of the doors to converse with the other headmasters and so they were left trudging after their guide through icy halls that stretched to the sky, until finally reaching a door with a small placard on it.

"Ze others will be staying 'ere," he said with a heavy accent.

Draco sensed the others exchanging confused glances behind him and simply rolled his eyes.

"He means Potty and Weasley," Draco explained, too tired to come up with a more original insult.

Potter and Weasley huffed indignantly at the remark, but they seemed tired as well. Their guide started to move again and, with a sigh Draco followed. They came to another door.

"Votre piece, mademoiselle et monsieur (Your room, miss and sir)," the guide said in French, then began to correct himself. "Pardon, zis is-"

"Merci Monsieur. Quand nos valises arriveront? (Thank you sir. When will our suitcases arrive?)" Draco responded, slipping into French easily.

"Parlez-vous Francais? (You speak French?)" the guide asked with surprise, then regained aloofness again. "Vos valises arriveront bientôt. Le porteur leur apporte maintenant. Au revoir. (Your suitcases will arrive soon. The porter is bringing them now. Goodbye)."

"Merci. Au revoir, (Thank you. Goodbye)" Draco replied. He ignored Hermione's stunned face.

When the door closed to their room, Hermione grabbed his arm and spun him around.

"You speak French?" she demanded.

"I picked it up on my frequent trips to France," he said with a smirk.

Then he turned and walked to a door adjoining the living room they were in now. It had a sign that read "Draco" on the front. He pushed it open and saw a small room with an ice blue canopy bed set against a wall of windows. There was a dresser, nightable, desk, and chair in the room, all matching the bed. There was a door on the right wall that he could only assume led to a bathroom. There was even a balcony behind his bed. A few moments later, a stout porter burst into his room, dropped Draco's trunk unceremoniously on the floor, and left. Draco pulled on some thin cotton pajamas as quickly as possible. Exhausted, Draco collapsed onto the bed and relished in the feel of the soft pillows. He was asleep in an instant.

Draco awoke the next morning to a brilliant sunrise pouring into his room. It lit up the icy walls and made his room seem like it was on fire. The sky was streaked with brilliant pink and gold and he stumbled onto his balcony for a breath of fresh air and a better look. He slid open the glass and stepped outside, shivering in the chill morning air. Somehow, inside the ice palace had been warmer than outside. He glanced around, feeling like a king as he surveyed the expansive mountain range that formed a semi-circle around the back of Beauxbatons.

To his right were gorgeous mountains, but to his left was (of course...) Granger, standing on her own balcony, next to his, doing the exact same thing he was. They caught each other's' eyes at the same moment and held the glance for a brief time before Draco looked away in disgust.

"Nice pajamas!" Granger called to him, sarcastically. Draco glanced down. In his hurry to get to bed, he hadn't put on the white pajamas he thought he had. They were his favorite green ones with little gold serpents embroidered all over it. His mother had gotten him those pajamas!

"Not so bad yourself," he called back. She glanced down at her own pink nightie, with a little owl stamped on the back. She gave a little giggle that sounded like a bell and for a strange moment, Draco felt the urge to laugh. He suppressed it.

"Ok ok, fair enough," she laughed. "Enjoy the sunrise Malfoy."

She turned and walked into her room, shutting her glass door with a clink. He almost grinned, in spite of himself, but then he remembered that he didn't smile and pushed the corners of his mouth down. What was wrong with him? Must be the early morning. He stalked back into his room, gathered up his competitors robes, and walked into the bathroom...exactly as a door at the opposite end opened and none other than Granger walked in.

"Oh...um, sorry," she exclaimed, going pink and sprinted out her door. Adjoining bathroom. Great. Draco made sure to lock both doors to the tiny bathroom before hopping into the shower, hoping the hot water would wake him up enough to deal with the competition today. Why they scheduled these last two events so close to each other was beyond him. Maybe to test how well they could do exhausted. A juvenile idea really. He would still beat them all, tired or not.

He finished up in the shower and dressed in his robes, making sure to unlock the doors of the bathroom as he left.

"All yours," he yelled in the direction of Hermione's room. He heard a muffled "hrmf" from her room and almost smiled again. He seriously needed to stop that.

Walking into the common living area, he spotted a piece of paper on the coffee table. There were weird plants around the room, by every door. They were like young trees, but a weird dark blue. The leaves hit him in the face as we walked out of his room. Spluttering, he made his way to the paper, picked it up, and flopped down onto the white couch next to a white armchair. It read:

Schedule for Event Day (Hogwarts):

7:00 Breakfast in Dining Room C

7:45 Competitors to Classroom 1842 for Wardrobe

8:15 Durmstrang Event

8:45 Dramatic Arts Event

9:15 Hogwarts Event

9:45 Beauxbatons Event

10:15 Competitor's Brunch in Dining Room F

You may spend the rest of the day as you please. You are welcome to travel the grounds and any of our students will be happy to escort you around the castle. We have a variety of activities you may participate in (listed at the bottom of this paper), or you may travel down to the town of Chamonix by way of carriage. A map of the school is provided on the back of your schedule.

"It's like a freaking hotel," Draco muttered. He glanced at the clock. It was only 5:30; breakfast wasn't for another half hour. He sighed and looked around the room for something to do. A few books lay on the coffee table and he picked one up and flipped through it with a listless air. However, a sentence caught his eye and he was soon enthralled in the book, wrapped up in his own world. He didn't even hear Hermione enter the room and plop down into the armchair next to him, until she asked "What are you reading?"
"Ummmm," he mumbled, slowly pulling himself out of his book. "The Great Gatsby."

"Really? You're reading The Great Gatsby? I never took you for a classical reader," she said.

"I read classics all the time! Besides, I don't see you reading anything better," he retorted.

She flashed a copy of Jane Eyre that she was holding in her hand at him with a smirk.

"A classic," she said. "Just like you, Ferret."

"Hey!" he exclaimed.

She merely smiled and buried herself into her book. Draco turned back to The Great Gatsby with a huff of indifference. The hour and a half before breakfast passed in a comfortable silence. Every now and then, Hermione would make some small noise and Draco would tease her about it and they would banter back and forth for a little bit before turning back to their respective novels. It was rather fun, Draco had to admit. When it came time for breakfast, they rose together and since they were both going to the same place, they walked together.

"So Malfoy, are you ready for today?" Hermione asked, her face turning seriously.

"Ready for what? Ready to watch you fall flat on your face while my magnificence shines on everyone who dares look at me?" She slapped his arm for that one.

They walked a little in silence before he broke it.

"So Her- I mean Granger, are you ready for today?"

She looked thoughtful for a moment before responding.

"Yes and no. I'm nervous, but we've made it this far, right?"

"Right."

More silence. Then bickering and bantering and insults and names. But it was teasing. Almost like they were friends instead of mortal enemies. When did we get this comfortable together? And when the hell did I start calling her Hermione? Draco wondered.

They reached the breakfast room and Hermione, no Granger, gave him a small smile and went to join Potty and Weasel at a table across the room.

What is happening to me?

Author's Note: So I know this chapter didn't have much excitement, but the next one will. I am planning on publishing at least one more chapter before the New Year (yay). This fanfiction will have anywhere from 7-9 more chapters, if everything goes according to plan. Also, I am currently looking for a new beta, so if there are any grammar/spelling mistakes, I apologize.

Thank you all for reading and reviewing. Happy Holidays!