Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story. All names/places associated with the Harry Potter series all belong to J.K. Rowling.
Draco walked through the restless crowd. He swam through the sea of blue and silver, and red and white. People were bustling all around him— pushing through and shoving everyone out of their way, eager to get the best seats in the stadium.
Draco pulled his blue scarf tighter around his neck and stuffed his hands into his pockets in an effort to keep warm. His brow furrowed as he struggled his way up the metal staircase towards the top. A bunch of kids made their way down excitedly, chattering at the tops of their voices as they clambered down the stairs. Draco just stared at them.
Stupid kids. He glanced at his watch. Crap. I'm late.
He desperately made his way up to the VIP Lounge. A bright yellow glow radiated from the room, and he could already hear the voices of the various superior figures coming from above. He brisk walked towards the lounge, composing himself, wearing a pleasant face, and thinking of a reasonable enough excuse for the delay.
Draco Malfoy was never late.
He stood up tall, nose slightly in the air, and, as usual, the hint of arrogance evidently displayed on his pale, flawless face.
He entered the room.
Everyone around him stopped for a brief second as they turned acknowledged his presence, and silence quickly filled the room. Draco nodded to some of the more important guests in the lounge, and subsequently made his way to the main viewing area of the stadium. Everyone else went back to their own business, whether it was drooling at the fine selection of the food on the refreshment table, drinking champagne or talking to some of the other guests.
Draco stopped and shook hands with certain people who approached him, or exchanged a comment or two on the expected outcome of tonight's match. Once undisturbed, he subtly examined VIP lounge. It was almost like a box, with pure white walls, except for the one facing the Quidditch field, which was replaced with a floor-to-ceiling glass panel. It had the best view, of course, and overlooked the entire stadium.
Then he looked at the invited guests. His eyes scanned the room. Ah, yes. There were the familiar faces of some of the Ministry officials, there were the journalists, the players' spouses, big shots from the wizarding world's most important companies and… Granger? Draco tilted his head to one side. No, it couldn't be. He scrutinized the elegant lady in the Muggle skinny-fit jeans, the one-shoulder black blouse which hugged her curves in all the right places, and her long, wavy, caramel-coloured hair done up in a half ponytail, with gentle curls falling down the sides of her face, framing it perfectly. But yes, Draco concluded that it most definitely was Hermione Granger, he was sure of it. As sure as the Falcons would win tonight's game.
Okay, maybe he wasn't so sure.
Hermione scanned the food table. Merlin, it did look good. There was a fine selection of bread, cheeses, soups and other delicacies. And those were only the starters. She finally settled for a glass of champagne. I wouldn't want to look like a greedy pig stuffing herself with gallons of pumpkin soup.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw a tall, lanky figure walking towards her. She tilted her head and her eyes widened ever so slightly at the sight of the Draco Malfoy smoothly but cautiously approaching her. She raised one delicate eyebrow at him as he nodded at her and began selecting food from the table and placing them on his plate.
"Granger." His voice was cold and hostile, and his eyes carefully averted hers.
"Malfoy." She replied, equally icily.
She subtly looked him up and down. He was wearing a creaseless grey suit, which brought out his stunning grey eyes (she mentally slapped herself for thinking that), and polished black shoes. His platinum blond hair was somewhat in the middle of neat and messy— it wasn't combed and gelled back like it had been during their time at Hogwarts, and his fringe was covering his forehead and fell in front of his eyes. But it looked presentable, and actually kind of sexy (this time Hermione received a kick from her sub-conscious).
But what she found surprising was that he was wearing a navy blue scarf. A blue scarf. What was this? The Slytherin Prince for once actually abandoning his Slytherin-worshipped house colours?
My, my. This boy has changed, she smirked to herself.
Unfortunately for her, Draco caught the smirk on her face and jerked his head towards, a dangerous glint in his eye.
"What, Granger? Trying to mimic my signature smirk now, are you?"
Hermione smirked defiantly at him. "Of course not Malfoy. Just awfully shocked at how you've so disgracefully abandoned your sacred house colours. Blue, Malfoy? Really?"
Draco grew annoyed at the increasing sarcasm in her voice. But of course he would never let her see that. He smirked this time, putting the smirk she had used earlier to shame.
"Why this is different. I certainly can't abandon my own team, can I?"
This time it was Hermione's turn to look taken aback.
"Your team? I didn't know that—"
"I co-own the Falmouth Falcons? Bit outdated aren't you Granger. Well what are you doing here then? I never thought you were interested in Quidditch, let alone get VIP seats for such an important match like this one."
Hermione raised her eyebrow again. Draco Malfoy was going to get his arrogant little bubble burst any second now. She opened her mouth to reply, but just as she was about to form a sentence a bespectacled little witch with a floating quill by her side barged into the conversation and looked at Hermione with eager eyes.
"Hermione Granger!" Rina Skeeter exclaimed delightedly. "How intense this must be for you!"
Draco Malfoy stared at Rina Skeeter. Merlin, here was the niece of the exasperating Rita Skeeter. He thought he'd gotten rid of her after she retired, but no, her little niece had decided to take over her post as head journalist in the Daily Prophet.
And had he just been ignored by a journalist?
Hermione smiled nervously at Rina. She bit her lip and blushed a little. Rina beamed at her, she was so excited it seemed as if she was vibrating on the spot.
"Ms Granger, the whole world's dying to know: how intense is this crucial match going to be for you as Oliver Wood's girlfriend?"
A/N: Hope the first chapter is okay! This is my first time writing a fan fic, please read and review! Any constructive criticism is welcome. Thank you!