DISCLAIMER- I take only the plot to be mine!!! You know where the rest goes.
I threw back my shoulders and grinned at Blaise Zabini, sitting in the sidelines of the Quidditch Stadium. It felt so good to be up on a broomstick. I felt the wind whistling around me, making a few loose strands of my blond hair tickle my cheek. I heard the cheers of Granger below, no doubt cheering for Potter, who was probably mounting his broomstick. It was free practice for all houses.
Sure enough, a blur of scarlet whizzed by; Potter on his Firebolt. I rolled my eyes and threw myself of my Nimbus 2001, show that loser I could do better on my broomstick. I put on a spurt of speed around the stadium.
Potter didn't notice me, or rather, pretended not to. I took a hand off my broom, just to show him my skill. Somehow, I must have turned too sharply. I felt my broomstick go left, my body go right. My hand lost its grip on my broom and I toppled off.
When you're falling, each millisecond seems like an eternity. Your mind's not clear and when you fall, the sound that's not been there comes back on, deafening you. I think I was falling somewhere between the grass and the sidelines. The person right below to me looked up, an expression of mild surprise on her face. When I hit the ground, the gasps of everyone around me were all I remembered before everything went black.
"Draco? Er…Draco? Wake up…" Someone was slapping my face, which felt cold. My back hurt.
I opened my eyes. The sun blinded me for an instant; I was outside in the open air. Then a girl came into view.
"Am I dead? Am I in heaven?" I breathed .I think she was an angel. She burst into laughter, breaking my trance.
"You fell, remember? Wake up, get up." The girl said. Hermione- was that? Yes, it was- shifted uncomfortably. She was probably the last one I'd seen before passing out.
My head hit her lap as soon as I tried to sit up. "I think my back's sprained." I squeaked. She frowned, then lifted me up, or at least attempted to. I didn't let her. I screamed, and it was only then I realized so many people were around us, looking at me curiously. No one seemed concerned, except Hermione.
"Well?" I whined. "A little help?"
It was quite comforting having Madame Pomfrey help me to the Hospital Wing, to a bed, and pour tonic down my throat and rub my back.
Hermione was there every moment of it.
"Are you ready, Draco?" Professor Snape asked me, helping me into the field. It was a week from the Quidditch tragedy and Hermione catching me, and now it was the Quidditch match. Snape raised an eyebrow as he surveyed me. "Your back isn't too healed yet, you know."
I smiled tentatively and got onto my broom. "I'm fine, Professor." At least I thought I was, but then the hen of a nurse, that old maid, Madam Pomfrey waddled up to us.
"No flying until you are completely healed!" She said, pulling me away from my broom. "You shall sit in the sidelines." She nodded curtly to Professor Snape.
I sat down angrily while the whistle blew, starting the game. Blaise Zabini had substituted for me, and he wasn't even half as good. Then I noticed I was on the very edge of where the Slytherins usually sat, and the nearest to Gryffindors. I started to stand up and get away, but Hermione was beside me. Not exactly beside, but she was on the seat below me.
"Hey!" She grinned and it was only then I noticed her buck teeth were gone. She looked. . . normal.
She is, you imbecile! I told myself.
"How's your back?" she asked.
"Fine, I answered, leaning back. My back hurt. Too bad I couldn't lean closer to her. "Thanks for err . . . catching me."
She giggled, and I felt warmth spread from my chest to the tips of my toes. "No sweat." She replied. She turned away from me to watch the game.
Why did my face feel warm?!
I gasped. Did I. . . have feelings for her?! She was watching the game, face
scrunched up in concentration, her hazel eyes darting around the field. My heart fluttered.
Hermione turned to me. "The Gryffindors are really looking good today. But I don't think Harry has so much competition today, now that you're not in the game.
Gawd, she was tactful. It made my heart slip up a notch higher in my throat. The Malfoy feelings in me itched to slap myself, but I didn't make any move to do so. My pitiful self forced my gaze back to her, and my heart drummed mercilessly against my ribs.
I love her. I told myself. I don't care if I'm a loser doing so.
I let my head fall on my hands. What would everyone say when they found out?
Hermione looked at me in concern. "What's wrong? Is it your back?"
I leaned closer, only it was my stupid back that kept me away from her. "Yes, it's my back." She frowned reached up to help me. I leaned closer, ignoring the pain.
We shared our first kiss while Gryffindor won the game.
Breaking apart, I looked around tantalizingly to see if anyone had seen us. The pain seemed to double. She blushed, smiling tentatively.
"Er." I said.
"Hermione! We won!" Harry made his way to us. He pulled her up. Then he saw me.
"Hello, Draco. Quick game, huh?" He grinned, then they walked away, talking.
My heart, which had been so active in the last five minutes, slowed down and plummeted into a bank of icy water, somewhere below the kneecap region. The pain in my back seemed to double. She had Harry instead of me. How could I be so stupid?
It was like falling off my broom on the ground and staying there, wounded.
I watched them go-Harry's arm around Hermione, Ron trotting beside them. Hermione turned back to look at me. She smiled.
Maybe I'd fallen off my broom slam onto her.