Disclaimer: The author of this piece of fiction does not, in any way, profit from the story. All creative rights of the characters belong to the original creator, J.K. Rowling/Robert Galbraith. Any image(s) used for the cover art belongs to their rightful creators. The plot and written works is copyright of writer Loutzy. All else belongs to their rightful owners. Any potential brand, name, or anything else belongs to their rightful owners.

A/N: Chapter 1/8. Marked as complete due to the fact that each chapter can be taken as a one shot, despite the fact that there will be growth between the couple.


Hermione watched her friends as they soared through the air on their broomsticks – an ability that even she had grown weary of – and a prickle of envy stabbed softly at her chest. Though she had done all she could possibly do to prepare herself for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, even before she had stepped foot on Platform 9 3/4, nothing could prepare her for her very rational fear of heights.

And Hermione knew it was rational. Though her new acquaintances Harry and Ron had seemed safe enough flying about on those broomsticks, Hermione knew from multiple textbooks on Psychology and the human mind that her fear had stemmed from generations of caution caused by height-related deaths. It was simple, university level knowledge, really. Heights, snakes, spiders, and water… All seemingly irrational fears that had placed themselves in the survival of humanity. Without these deep rooted cautions against such animals or natural disasters, humanity could not have possibly-

Shouts sounded around her and from the corner of her eye, Hermione caught a glimpse of the very reason as to why she decided against the use of broomsticks. Her head snapped in the direction of the falling body to see a head of platinum blond hair struggling to climb back onto his broomstick. Jumping up on instinct, her body carried her down the stands quickly and out onto the field where many had already unmounted their broomsticks to crowd around the fallen boy.

As soon as she got close enough, she heard the voices of her two friends commenting quietly.

"Serves him right – showing off the way he was." Ron quipped to Harry who only pursed his lips and nodded his head. Weirdly enough, no professors were in sight.

"What are you all doing standing around?" Hermione shouted at the small crowd of people, especially regarding the older students who seemed dumb-struck by the incident. When no responses came, Hermione huffed out, "Well, somebody go call for some help!"

Her comment seemed to snap most students out of their dazes as they rushed around, looking for someone to help him. Hermione instantly went to the boy's side.

"Hermione, what are you doing?" She heard Ron's voice from behind her, irritating her on a miniscule level, "That's the boy that called you a mud-

"Ron." Harry cut him off, not wanting to hear a repeat of that derogatory term.

Hermione shook her head and gave a roll of her eyes, "Just because he was acting rudely to me doesn't mean he should suffer in pain." When she finally turned her attention to the boy, she saw him clutching at his wrist and glaring at her fiercely, "Now, where does it hurt?"

Whether or not his face scrunched up in pain or disgust, Hermione couldn't tell, "Why should I tell you?"

Again, Hermione found herself rolling her eyes, "Because if you don't you'll just have to sit here withering in pain until a teacher comes by to help, won't you?" The blond boy's glare hardened at her and a moment of silent disdain passed between the two until pain shot through his arm once again and he visibly tensed at the pressure.

Slowly, Malfoy held out his arm.

Taking the moment in stride, Hermione carefully held his hand and lifted up the sleeve of his robes to see his porcelain skin quickly bruising into shades of green, yellow, and purple. When her hand shifted to lightly hold the wrist and examine it further, the boy let out a wince of pain.

Her mind went into overdrive, thinking of all the little spells she had learned over the summer before Hogwarts and only coming to one conclusion. Her free hand went to her pocket to draw out her wand. Malfoy quickly snatched his arm away from her, eyes wide.

"What do you think you're doing?" He snapped at her wildly, glaring down at her wand.

"I know what I'm doing." She said in a tone of finality and reached out to grab his wrist again. He winced once more and looked around to see if any professors were on their way yet. There were none, "Now, this may hurt a little." She explained softly, looking the boy in his grey eyes to get some sort of consent to what she was about to do. His lips tightened as he examined the bushy haired girl. Right now, it seemed as though he didn't have much more choice. He gave her a stiff nod before her attention went back to his wrist, "This should do the trick-

"Should? I thought you said-

"Ferula!" And with a tap of her wand, large bandages wrapped around his wrist causing a sharp pain to travel his arm for a moment. And just as he was about to hex her for whatever she could have possible just done to him, the sharp pain quickly subsided and the feeling of heaviness due to the collection of damaged blood cells under the bruising faded, as well. Though his arm didn't feel completely healed, it definitely felt much better.

And before Malfoy could question her knowledge or even huff out a small thank you, Madam Hooch came running onto the field with Oliver Wood trailing just behind her. When she got to Hermione and Malfoy, she quickly started throwing questions to which Malfoy answered honestly. By the time she asked him where it hurts, she almost seemed breathless as Malfoy lifted up his wrist to allow her to have a look at his injury. A look of query passed her features.

"But how is it that your wrist has already been tended to?" She asked, uncertain. A confident voice was heard from behind her.

"That was me, Madam Hooch." Hermione said, slipping her wand back into her robes. Hooch looked even more bewildered at that.

"But how did you…?" When Hermione realized she wasn't going to finish her question, she politely piped up.

"I read it," She explained, as though the answer was obvious, "in a book."

Hooch's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, her eyes darting between the now bandaged boy and the curly haired girl. Soon, she shrugged and got to her feet.

"Well, quick thinking is valued in every pleasure of life…" Hooch smiled at the girl as she helped Malfoy to his feet. She looked back at Hermione and finally let out, "Even Quidditch. Your name?"

"Hermione Jean Granger, miss." Hermione beamed, basking in the attention she was being given by a teacher she had never thought she would get to fully understand.

"Ten points to Gryffindor for Hermione's fast thinking, and for her compassion towards other houses." In all the excitement of getting (what Hermione strongly believed to be) well deserved attention, she had almost forgotten about the blond boy. Her eyes snapped to his unreadable gaze and she nodded at him. He simply blinked back.

Madam Hooch walked him off the Quidditch pitch as Ron and Harry came up behind her, Harry patting her on the shoulder.

"He really didn't deserve what you did for him," Ron sniffed, clearly annoyed by Hermione's empathy towards everything, "You know that, right, Hermione?"

But Hermione wasn't listening. Her attention was pulled elsewhere when the boy who was being ushered towards the Hogwarts castle turned to look back at the girl with furrowed eyebrows. Hermione gave the same expression back as she watched the boy's retreating form walk to the castle, her eyes never leaving the blond boy's head.