Hiya everyone!
First, a major apology to anyone waiting for me to add the next chapters to two of my fanfics, but I had writers block and I'm on a wining streak right now, and I'm writing several chapters in one go so this wait won't happen again. Sorry!
Secondly, please read and review this and any of my fics. I need an excuse for going hyper. My parents are starting to think I was born this way. Lol.
So, hopefully enjoy. Sorry to any Ron and Draco fans reading this, but I needed a punching bag for Hermione, and who better than Draco?
I don't own any of the characters used in this story. But oh well. I can just have fun with them on fanfiction.
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Sighing, Hermione sat down opposite her two best friends in one of the overstuffed armchairs dotted around the Gryffindor common room. The two boys were sat at either end of a sofa, arguing heatedly about two players from the Spanish Quidditch team.
She looked at both of them and shook her head. Two hours of practise in the morning, a tactics meeting with Wood after lunch and now this in the evening. Sometimes she wondered if they had proper lives anymore. Reaching into her bag she got out her new book and settled down into the chair. Stay calm, Hermione, they'll notice you in a moment.
Truth be told, it wasn't Ron she wanted to notice her, but her mind refused to elaborate on that thought.
"Gaverra is miles better at flying than Hernandez. He can do a sweeping stop, and he can do it while twisting!" Ron gestured wildly to emphasise this point, and knocked a stack of papers off the table in the process. Looking up from the floor as he gathered them into a pile, he saw Hermione.
"Hey, Hermione. When did you get here?" he replaced the papers on he desk, and turned back to Harry. Before she could answer Harry looked over and said:
"Hey, if you're not busy, could you look over our Potions essays? We had practice this morning, so they got rushed. Thanks." Again, before Hermione could answer he'd turned back to Ron and pushed a book in his face.
"Look. This is what you're talking about. And he falls off. Big time."
"No."
The boys looked at Hermione, startled. She was sitting with her arms folded, looking angrily at them both. She had just decided that she wasn't going to be treated like a dictionary, making sure they got the grades they needed while they neglected their best friend for a game.
"Huh? Hermione, we really need you to go through these for us…" They looked totally confused. For a moment, Hermione considered just giving them her usual lecture and reading the essays anyway, but then she saw the Quidditch book lying between them on the sofa. Her resolve hardened.
"I said no. And don't interrupt. I have some thing I need to say, and that you need to hear. I am your best friend, and for three months I have listened to you two talk about Quidditch non-stop. I have gone matches and practises, proof-read your homework when you rush it for tactics meetings and helped you look up Quidditch books in the library."
She stopped and took a breath. Ron looked a little less confused.
"But Hermione, that's what friends do…." He trailed off, looking a bit scared at the expression on Hermione's face. Harry's face changed, as something slowly dawned on him.
"Yes Ron, it's what friends do. But here's the thing. I understand that this obsession with Quidditch helps take you mind off things. But I am just as worried about what's going on as you are, and when was the last time you did anything for ME! Whenever there's meeting I want you to come to with me, you have practise. If there's a trip into Hogsmead, you have a meeting with Wood. The last time we did anything for me was second day of term, when you helped me research that wizard for class. That was three months ago. Three months. I am sick of being taken for granted as a homework help and loyal supporter of Quidditch!"
She stood up and turned to leave the common room. Hesitating, she turned back and lifted the book from where it was lying on the sofa.
"By the way, Ortega is the best flyer in the Spanish team. Thirty-two matches to Gaverra and Hernandez's twenty-nine each, and he's not fallen off once. They have. At least a dozen times each. She snapped the book shut and practically threw it at Ron.
Ron was stark white. "Uh oh. We messed up big time, didn't we?" the look on Harry's face said it all.
They sat still for a minute, both realising that they had messed up, hugely, and there was perhaps no fixing it.
"We should talk to her." Harry looked at Ron, who went even whiter. The overall effect of flaming hair and a sheet white face was funny, and at any other time Harry would have laughed. Not now though.
He stood, knowing that it would be his job to make amends. He just hoped he'd learnt enough from his Defence classes to be able to survive any attack made on him by the brightest witch of the age.
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Outside the common room, Hermione leant against the wall, fighting back sobs and trying to calm down. A supercilious voice from further down the corridor didn't help at all.
"Well, if it isn't the little Mudblood. What's the matter, didn't get full marks in a test?" Draco sneered at her, and grinned at Crabbe and Goyle.
"Malfoy, the mood I'm in you really don't want to mess with me." Hermione stood, pushing her hair back from her face and reaching for her wand.
"Oh yeah? I happen to have a very powerful anti-attack charm in my pocket, negates all magic used against me. I suppose that's what you get when your fathers the most powerful man in the wizarding world. Pity you can't comprehend that, being a Mudblood. So, sorry, no magic." He sneered again, drawing himself up to his full height, an inch above Hermione.
"Who says I'd going to use magic?" Before Draco could step back she punched him on the nose, putting all of her frustration at Harry and Ron into the swing. And after three months of non-stop Quidditch, that was one hell of a punch. He stared in shock, then collapsed onto Crabbe. They took one look at his now oddly shaped nose, and the blood flowing freely from it, and carried him off in the direction of the hospital wing.
Hermione ran the other way, knowing they would never mention it. After all, how well would it go down with Lucius Malfoy that his only sons nose had been broken by a girl. She ran until she reached the astronomy tower, and climbed up the ladder. All quiet, good. She put an unbreakable charm on the lock and sat down on her favourite ledge. She leant back against the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw with an eagle by her side, and rested her head on her bent knees. Then she started crying.
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Harry jogged through the corridors, asking students at every turn if they'd seen Hermione. He was finally directed towards the astronomy tower by an awed looking second year who also told him Hermione had knocked Malfoy out, and broken his nose. Wondering what had possessed them to say that, as Hermione wasn't violent – apart from when she hit him in third year, but that was understandable. He pushed on the trapdoor that led out onto the roof, but to no avail. He tried alohamora, but a quiet voice from the other side told him it was an unbreakable charm, so go away.
"Hermione? Look, can we talk?" he cringed as soon as he said it, and then accepted the retort from the other side of the door.
"Don't you think this could have been different if we'd talk in the last three months?" Hermione's voice was cold, and Harry felt something break inside him. She should not be feeling this way. However worried or preoccupied she was, she had always made time to help or support him and Ron, and they had let her down. He needed a way to get up onto the roof and tell her that. Climbing down, he was about to go and ask a teacher for help in getting her down when Dean walked past and called up:
"Nice evening for flying Harry. Calm and warm, just right." He wandered off whistling, not realising that Harry could have kissed him at that moment.
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Ten minutes and a trip to the common room later Harry drew level with Hermione on the roof of the astronomy tower, startling her. She stood, wiping her face. He handed her a handkerchief, one she'd brought him as a joke, complaining he never had one to wipe up blood from various scrapes.
"Not dirty or bloody, promise." Harry smiled tentatively, not sure where he stood with her. She gave the smallest of smile back and accepted the pristine white cloth. Moving into the centre of the tower, she gestured to the roof.
"Come a bit closer?"
"Umm, after the way me and Ron have treated you, I'd better not. You may be tempted to push me off. Not that we both don't deserve it, but Ron's asleep and I'd rather die with him. At least I can have a last laugh." He grinned at the picture, then looked worriedly at Hermione. She smiled again, wider this time, and shook her head.
"That was the last thing on my mind. I just thought it may get a bit uncomfortable out there on that thing, that's all." She looked uncertain, and Harry felt the strange flip in his heart again. He manoeuvred his broom until he was over the tower, and stepped off. He stood in front of Hermione and took a deep breath.
"Hermione, I'm sorry. And we do need to talk. And I agree, we should have done it weeks ago. Ron and me took you for granted, a thing we should never have done. I guess we never realised how much you do for us. You always support us, and help with homework, and makes us eat and… Merlin, you've been doing it since first year!" he ran a hand through his hair, making Hermione giggle when it stuck in every way possible. She reached up and started to flatten it down, but Harry pulled her hands away.
"I wouldn't waste your time. It's a lost cause. Bit like Ron and me." They smiled, and then Hermione sighed.
"I'm sorry I yelled at you…"
"Don't be. From the way we've been acting that was the only way you could get through. Ok, here's the thing. If me and Ron do our own homework from now on, stop obsessing over Quidditch and help you out as much as you've helped us, will we be on our way to earning your forgiveness?" he looked so anxious to please that Hermione laughed.
"Harry, I'm not one to hold a grudge against my friends."
"Even ones as insensitive as Ron and me?"
"Yes. You earned my forgiveness when you persevered in getting up here. Ron will have to work a bit harder though. Falling asleep? Honestly."
"Hermione, how did you know that stuff about the Spanish team?"
"After three months listening to it non-stop from you and Ron I was bound to pick up some things. Besides, my Dad follows them. He thinks he's 'getting involved' with the magical side of my life. He's not twigged that I don't like Quidditch that much" They smiled at each other, and then Hermione looked thoughtful.
"There is one thing you can do right now to start making up for your neglect." Hiding her grin as Harry's face lit up, she told him her idea.
"I want you to teach me how to ride a broom."
"You do? Why? I thought you were afraid of heights."
"Hmm. That's why my favourite place to think is on top of the astronomy tower, genius.
"Right." Harry grinned at his own stupidity.
"I just don't like flying. I don't want to start now, because it's dark. Not a good time to build my confidence. Tomorrow morning, please." She giggled as Harry bowed deeply and said in a very meek voice:
"Your wish is my command." They turned towards the trapdoor, Hermione reaching for her wand to undo the charm she'd put on it, and then Harry stopped. Turning, Hermione saw his face was troubled. Putting her wand back into her robes, she walked back towards him.
"Harry? What's wrong?" They grinned at the reversal of roles, and then Harry looked away.
"Hermione, what does it mean if you feel all dizzy inside, and you have trouble focusing on things other than a particular thing? Not a good explanation, I know, but it's the only one I have."
She thought for a minute, then said slowly.
"Well, if you're talking about a person," he nodded vigorously, "it means you care about them. Deeply. Why?" she stood in front of Harry, and looked at him. When he turned his head, she got her answer, written for her to see in his eyes. He looked apologetic, and started to speak.
"Hermione, I'm sorry. I know you don't feel like that, but I can't help it…" He was cut off by Hermione shaking her head. His shoulders drooped, and he looked beaten.
And it was all going so well, you idiot. At least you didn't tell her you love her. You can still repair this mess. Huh? What's she saying?
Harry cam out of his thoughts as Hermione spoke.
"You know, there is one positive thing about Quidditch." At Harry's blank look, she smiled.
"The scarves." So saying she took hold of his, leftover from the afternoon practise, and pulled. His lips met hers and they both felt the love and passion the other put into the kiss. Deepening it, they stood there for a while, revelling in their newly accepted feelings. It didn't need to be said, but Hermione knew Harry would never take her for granted again (Ron was another matter) and Harry knew he would never let her come to any harm, emotional or physical, again. As they broke apart – even love needs air every now and then – Harry asked Hermione a question that had been bugging him for a while.
"Hermione, did you really break Malfoy's nose?"
"Do you really want to talk about that right now?"