Call Him Draco
by: writingxonxwalls
She must not notice what she's wearing. I mean, even Hermione couldn't make the mistake of wearing… that. It goes against everything us Gryffindors believe in!
Like I said, she must not notice what she's wearing.
It all started at breakfast this morning. Well, at least I hope that's when it started. Today is the big day, the day the Gryffindors and Slytherins play for the Quidditch Cup. Everyone was pumped up, and there were intense staring contests between the Slytherin and Gryffindor table.
But Mione was last that morning to breakfast, which usually isn't a big deal because since she is Head Girl, she does dorm farther away from the Great Hall then we are. But I mean, come on, it's the big game day! Who would want to even think about being late?
Hermione did come late though, and, bloody hell, we were all shocked out of our minds. She had her usual robe folded and tossed over her arm, and she was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. Red and gold sweatshirt, with a big H on it (courtesy of me mum in year three), and dark blue jeans, the colors almost everyone was wearing today. Hermione's hair though, her hair… oh lord her hair. It was being held back my multiple strands of dark green ribbon, at different lengths and widths.
Like I said, she must not notice what she was wearing. Most of the Gryffindors were too afraid to tell her anything, and the Slytherins just looked plain confused.
So that's how breakfast went. A dead silence between the two houses, instead of the normal comebacks normally thrown between the two.
I wonder if she noticed that everyone was staring at her. This could NOT be happening. She's a Gryffindor. Always has been one, and always will be one.
She didn't talk to us all day. Harry and I weren't quite sure what was going on with her. Harry convinced himself that maybe she was going colorblind and couldn't tell the difference between the two different colors. I, on the other hand, was almost positive that she's making a statement.
Once it was time to play the Quidditch game of all Quidditch games, Hermione still hadn't taken the ribbons out of her hair. But who dare correct the smartest witch of our time? If I had done it, I would have probably gotten my head bitten off. That's not on my to-do list.
And with a kiss planted on my cheek by Luna, I took off into the air. The game was extremely intense. Broomsticks flying everywhere, the crowd packed with people. That's how Quidditch is supposed to be. People were flying off their brooms almost tumbling to the ground because they lost a pushing battle bunches and bunches of feet off the ground and the professors shrieked as a bludger hit Professor Snape in the face. Not that would have been on purpose of course.
Malfoy was being exceptionally annoying. He looked confident and happy even when, at the time, they had been down by forty. He's up to something. The sly bastard. And I don't like it one bit.
Even though Hermione had been cheering for us in the section of the field that had streamers of gold and red all over the place, it was still confused us all because of her choice in headbands. I mean bloody hell, I almost got hit in the face with a quaffle because I was trying to understand why she would wear that color! What in the hell was she thinking?
In the end, Gryffindor won of course. Harry grabbed the snitch just seconds before Malfoy's hand was there. The crowd went wild naturally.
I should've have been to busy gloating about the victory to notice, but I could've sworn I had seen Malfoy give a brief smile to himself before he walked into his locker room.
That boy has a twisted brain.
The victory party in the common room was only okay this year though. Harry was having a smashing time with all of his girl admirers, and Merlin knows where Hermione was… maybe tonight was tutoring night with the Hufflepuf first years.
So about half way through the party, I left to go see Luna. She said she would meet me in the stone archway near Hagrid's hut, right beside the stone steps.
I held my head high as I walked down there. After all, I was on the winning team. Who wouldn't be proud and confident to wear the Gryffindor uniform around the school?
I got there before she did. So I slid down so I could sit down and I thought about the day. Life was good. I honestly couldn't really complain.
"Good game, Herms."
"Thanks, Drake."
What the… bloody hell. They were over there on the steps. What was she doing with him?
"You win the bet. Gryffindor won." Draco frowned. "Of course." He added a little bitterly.
"Oh sush." Hermione smiled, "You know I was rooting for you too."
Oh.
"Yeah… the ribbons were pretty risky for you, I must say."
I tried to scoot myself closer to them so I could hear the conversation. Thank Merlin it was dark or else my hair would've been like a beacon.
She shrugged, "I know. But I was thinking about what you said, and I don't think I'd mind letting people know. Especially Ron and Harry. They need to know."
I peeked over the edge. Hermione was still in her "H" sweatshirt, while Draco was still in his uniform. The green and silver was barely visible through all the mud that had been hardening on it.
Nodding Draco pulled her closer, "Yeah well… I'm brilliant."
"Your ego never fails," She shook her head.
"Slytherin breakfast tomorrow?"
"Wouldn't miss it for the world."
I guess this means I have to call him Draco now.
A/n.
Haha, if you didn't figure it out, it was told in Ron's POV. I have decided that Ron doesn't always have to be a quick tempered firey redhead that's in love with our dear Hermie.
Thanks for reading!! --writingxonxwalls