"HEY, GRANGER!"
Hermione looked up to see Neville waving madly at her, Seamus was next to him, grinning. She clambered up the wooden steps of the stadium and took her seat next to them, "You almost missed the start," he told her.
"I know, I was late coming down from breakfast… ooh here they come!"
There was a blur of scarlet as the Gryffindor team raced into the sky on their broomsticks and their stand went wild. Somewhere in the crowd they heard the roar of Luna's famous lion hat and Hermione unfurled her Gryffindor banner which she passed to Neville and Seamus to help wave. For all that she complained about the constant Quiddich conversation, she quite liked the live games, though it was odd not to be sitting next to Ginny- who usually kept up a quiet commentary for the finer details of the game that went straight over Hermione's head.
The boys were welcoming though, "I hope Ron holds it together," Seamus commented with a mouthful of chocolate, a piece of which he offered to Hermione. She took it, grateful for the warmth it spread through her against the chilly wind. "He's been a mess all week, barely sleeping."
"I thought he was going to throw up at breakfast," Neville giggled.
"I'm sure he'll do great," Hermione said with a touch of disapproval- she hadn't forgotten Harry's slip of hand over Ron's pumpkin juice.
As she spoke up in his defence, she noticed that two rows in front Lavender Brown was giving her a very haughty look. Hermione tried to ignore it, but she couldn't help the slight feeling of rejection- as much as she liked her friends, it had always baffled her why it was so rare for other girls to like her. She didn't deliberately make friends with boys, but she had to admit they were often a lot easier to get along with.
She was so distracted by Lavender and Pavati's whispering that she missed the first goal; the Gryffindors roared and jumped to their feet, Hermione was dragged up when the two next to her yanked the banner into the air.
When the game was won she made her way down to the changing rooms to meet Harry and Ron, both in a Quiddich high and very windswept. Only there was little celebrating done, as Harry revealed that he had not in fact cheated and spiked Ron's juice with the luck potion that morning, and Ron had become gruff and offended that Hermione had presumed he should need it. In the end she brushed away from them both and hugged her elbows as she made her way back up to the Castle. Most of the students were already reaching the doors, but near the greenhouses she spotted Malfoy, still in his Quiddich robes… was he waiting for her?
When she was close enough he stepped out towards her, he didn't look particularly happy. His boots were caked in mud and he was clutching his broomstick rather tightly, his lips thin, "Can I help you?"
She almost blushed, clearly he hadn't been waiting on her. She made to utter… something, she wasn't sure what, when another voice from behind her snapped, "Oh just piss off Malfoy!"
Harry and Ron must have been walking much faster, or she had been walking much slower than she'd realised, because they were passing behind her and it was them Draco had snapped at. Hermione glanced at Ron who was studiously ignoring her, and then at Harry who made a weird face like he wanted to apologise for Ron's behaviour, but not in front of Malfoy, so instead ended up with a strange grimace and almost tripped going up the steps into the Castle. Hermione paused as they walked away and jumped high into the air when Draco touched her arm.
"You don't look happy."
"Neither do you."
"Well I just lost the match- what's your excuse."
Hermione stayed silent, still watching after Ron. She could sense Draco's disapproval and turned to face him, "I'd say I thought you played well, but I don't really know enough about Quiddich to know if it's an actual compliment or not."
His sharp eyes were on her, "You were watching me play?"
"Well-" she flushed, "I was watching the game."
He was smiling at her, and not his usual arrogant smirk, but a genuine gentle smile that she liked a lot better. A sudden loud chattering drew both of their attention to the rest of the dejected Slytherin team who were now making their way back from the pitch. Draco swallowed, "Uhm…"
"I'll go," Hermione said quietly, "I don't think they'd like seeing us together."
"They'll be annoyed- at losing the match."
"And they don't like me, because I'm Muggleborn," she reminded him.
Draco looked like he had something sharp stuck in his throat, "I'm sorry," he said finally.
Hermione felt herself smile slightly at him, because she actually believed that he was. Then she turned on her heel and disappeared through the double doors, missing the way his eyes followed her, but also missing the way the mask descended once she was out of sight and the rest of his friends arrived. Nothing about their growing friendship was easy, and that was only going to get worse as the Dark Lord got stronger. Draco knew that the fair thing to do would be to stop now, stop while he could, and not risk either of them getting hurt; but every time he tried to stay away, or gave in to the beliefs he had been brought up with, she would say or do something that shattered every effort he made. And it was getting more and more difficult to keep his attraction to her hidden.
