There was only one reason Hermione was attending the Quidditch match on that freezing November day, ignoring the studying she could be doing curled up in front of the library's roaring fire. And that reason was not because this was a very important match, one that could decide the House Cup winner. No, it was because Gryffindor was playing Slytherin. And the Slytherin Seeker, one Draco Malfoy, was someone Hermione had been very interested in of late.

Or, if she were to be totally honest with herself, she'd been interested in him since the very first day she laid eyes on him. The day when they were both first years, just eleven years old, she with buck teeth and bushy hair and he with slicked-back, white-blonde hair. Now, they were fifth years. She had blossomed into a beautiful young woman, while he… let's just say, Hermione couldn't imagine anyone more perfect. With his tousled blonde hair and gray eyes, no one could deny it: Draco was a looker. He was also athletic, smart, and mysterious in a way Hermione couldn't help being drawn to.

Her eyes searched the Quidditch pitch, waiting eagerly and impatiently for the teams to come out of their locker rooms. Finally, she spotted the brilliant scarlet and gold of the Gryffindors and, a few moments later, the deep green and silver of the Slytherins. Her eyes immediately spotted Draco, standing tall and gripping his broomstick tightly as the Captains shook hands and the players mounted their broomsticks, waiting for Madam Hooch's signal to take flight.

Just a second before Madam Hooch released the Quidditch balls, signaling the start of the match, Draco's eyes scanned the Gryffindor section and rested on Hermione. He looked away so quickly that Hermione shook her head, realizing she must've imagined it. She told herself to stop being stupid and settled in to watch the game.

And then the match began, and it was so exciting that she almost forgot about Draco. Almost. But there were moments, like when Harry and Draco both thought they saw the Snitch and went after it fiercely, when Hermione wasn't sure whether she wanted Gryffindor or Slytherin to win. And, when Harry finally caught the Snitch, barely beating Malfoy to it by successfully executing some tricky maneuvers, Hermione almost felt a twinge of disappointment. She inwardly kicked herself. Harry was her best friend, Gryffindor was her house. And Draco was…well, Hermione didn't know exactly what Draco was at the moment.

The Gryffindors ran onto the pitch, cheering and screaming, to congratulate the Gryffindor team on their victory. As she joined the crowd, Hermione accidentally bumped into Draco as he was heading off the pitch to join his team in the Slytherin locker room.

"Oh, sorry!" she exclaimed breathlessly as their eyes met.

"That's okay, Granger," he said with a smirk. "Better go and congratulate Potter; he looks like he's enjoying his moment of glory."

"All right, Malfoy, go have fun wallowing in your misery," she replied, the words insulting but the tone joking.

He nodded and smiled, showing he knew she was joking, and turned to leave. Hermione stood there speechless, her hand over her mouth, watching his form grow smaller as he made his way to the Slytherin locker room.

Ron's voice brought her back to earth. "Hermione, what are you doing?" he asked and, not waiting for an answer, launched into a retelling of one of his good saves. "Did you see that one where I blocked it, and almost -"

"Yes, Ron, you were brilliant!" she exclaimed, flashing Ron a smile that was more for the memory of Draco than for Ron.

He smiled back, pleased at the attention but a little confused since Hermione had seemed sort of distant lately.

Harry joined them, putting his arms around his best friends and leading them up to the Common Room, where the post-victory celebration was already taking place.

Hermione grabbed a butterbeer and headed to a chair in the corner of the room, blocking out Ron's loud reenactment of one of his best saves and thinking of a certain blonde-haired boy.