"Brooke. Brooke. Brooke!" Hermione yelled making Brooke snap out of her thoughts and nearly miss running straight into a corridor pillar.
"Sorry," she mumbled, momentarily forgetting the pillar was an inanimate object.
"You're really worried aren't you?"
"This game means a lot to both Harry and Draco and both of them being the seekers, it's not going to end well."
"It'll be fine," reassured Hermione as they headed to the Quidditch field. "You seem almost as nervous as Ron."
"Oh, I don't think I'll be as nervous as he is," Brooke commented, observing the small crown shaped badges on all the Slytherins' robes saying: WEASLEY IS OUR KING.
"What immature, selfish, idiotic gits!" Hermione said fiercely, stomping up the stairs. "They have no regard for anyone else's feelings but themselves! And it's all because they're jealous, of course, and have no other way of amusing themselves."
Only when she talked about house elves did Hermione behave this way, speaking with a sharp tongue and her hair flying madly. Brooke buried half of her face into her scarf, smiling to herself as Hermione threw glares at anyone making fun of Ron. If only, Brooke thought to herself, if only Ron wasn't so oblivious.
Madam Hooch blew her whistle initiating the game and on cue, the brooms zoomed into the air and Luna's lion hat roared above the cheering spectators. Without hesitation, Draco's eyes searched for the Golden Snitch, flying around in circles just as Harry was doing.
Meanwhile, Ron started to show how much the Slytherins' insulting cheer affected his game.
"Weasley cannot save a thing, He cannot block a single ring," they sang.
The piercing screams of the Slytherins made Brooke cringe and wish hard that Ron would save one Quaffle, just one. One goal from Angelina raised their hopes. Brooke concentrated on the chasers and keepers for most of the game, not wanting to keep reminding herself that there would only be one seeker who catches the snitch. Then, heads turned and cheered toward two figures streaking in the sky right next to each other. From the stands, it was impossible to see the Snitch, but they could always tell by whose hand was an inch in front of the other. Draco's hand scrabbled against the back of Harry's enclosed fist and her ears burst from cheering all around her. Moments after, the Gryffindors gasped simultaneously as a bludger hit Harry square in the back. To no one's surprise, Crabbe had been the beater behind it and received a livid Madam Hooch when he landed. Nonetheless, Harry stood up, encircled by the ecstatic Gryffindor Quidditch team.
By the look on Draco's face, it seemed far from him giving Harry a congratulations. Brooke, with Hermione closely following behind, raced down the stairs. Once they reached the field, Harry and George had leapt onto Draco, pushing him down and throwing punches wildly. Breaking into a sprint, Brooke was furious and bewildered, careful not to end up on all four paws at the same time.
"Impedimenta!" Madam Hooch shouted with her wand pointed at Harry. He jumped back from the force of the spell. Brooke went straight to Draco, crumpled up with his nose gushing out blood. Angelina, Alicia and Katie struggled to hold Fred back, George's lip looked swollen and Harry got up from the ground, fists clutching tight that it looked like no blood had been circulating in them at all.
"Never have I seen behavior like this in all my coaching!" Madam Hooch yelled. "Go to your Head of House's office, now!"
Kneeling next to a moaning Draco, Brooke looked at Harry with exasperated eyes and her lips pursed. His expression remained defiant, far from apologetic and marched off with Fred and George. Brooke laid her eyes back upon Draco, brushing away the hair in his eyes.
"Quit whining, will you?" she said sharply to Draco, acting as if he was hit by a Cruciatus Curse.
"Take him to Hospital Wing," ordered Madam Hooch, helping Brooke get Draco on his feet.
She put his arm around her neck and helped him walk away from the pit. If he hadn't been bruised and bleeding already, Brooke would have beaten him up herself.
"You know it's only a broken nose and a couple of bruises," she snapped, tired of hearing him moan and clutch at his stomach.
"Well, it hurts!" he retorted.
"Oh, please," Brooke rolled her eyes, half wanted to throw his arm off her and make him walk on his own. "You started it, anyway!"
"They hit me first!"
"And what exactly did you say to make them do that? A hearty congratulations?" she readjusted his arm to stop it from sliding.
They stepped into the Hospital Wing and Draco plopped straight onto one of the beds. Madam Pomfrey came out of her office asking what had happened.
"Seekers gone mad," Brooke muttered.
"Quidditch accident?" she asked while examining Draco's nose.
"Not exactly," Brooke said, staring at Draco.
Madam Pomfrey whipped out her wand and cleaned up the blood on his face. "Broken nose and a bit of trauma to the lower abdomen and shoulders. Lucky you didn't break a rib. These are minor. I can fix it up in a jiffy," she pointed her wand straight at his nose and moved it to its normal shape. "Good as new."
Brooke stood there with her arms crossed.
"So, you're not going to speak to me?" He got up from the bed.
"Of course I am," she sighed. "Just furious is all. I know Quidditch means a lot to you, but must you really take it so seriously enough for it end up like this when you lose?"
Draco frowned at the wall. "What do you expect me to do now? It's not like I can go back and change anything."
"I'm not telling you to do anything," Brooke sighed. "We agreed that we simply don't like each other's friends, but once it gets to the point of a fight break out because of it?"
"At least I didn't start punching them," he muttered.
"What did you say anyway?"
Draco half rolled his eyes. "I don't know."
But Brooke pressed him on.
"Something about the Weasleys. I might have mentioned Potter's mother in there somewhere," he said.
"Draco!" Brooke groaned.
"Not my fault they can't take a lighthearted jab."
"That was a lighthearted jab?"
"Well, what do you want me to do? Apologize?" he said. "I'm sorry. There."
"Not to me- to Harry, Ron, Fred and George."
Despite the scoff, he agreed and they left the Hospital Wing.
Later on, Brooke caught Harry walking out from the Great Hall. She hadn't seen any of the Gryffindor Quidditch team the rest of the day, mostly spending the few extra hours with Draco or Hermione. As she expected, Harry blew right past her, making Brooke speed up to catch him.
"Done lollygagging with that git of a boyfriend?" Harry muttered.
"You shouldn't have hit him, you know," Brooke said. The initial intent of letting it go extinguished faster than she expected.
"Did you even hear what he was saying to us, Brooke?" Harry narrowed his eyes at her.
"Not all of it, but I did get there in time to see you punching him," she retorted, feeling like she was being cross examined and judged.
"He wrote those lyrics to that song, did he tell you that?"
"No," Brooke felt uneasy, but added defensively, "But either way, I've talked to him about it all. No matter how childish he was, I'm not going to praise you for hitting him. That was wrong on your behalf."
"He got us banned!" He snapped furiously.
"Banned from what?" She suddenly lost the aggressiveness in her voice.
"Quidditch," Harry said quietly. "Me, Fred and George."
"McGonagall would never-"
"It was Umbridge," he interrupted. "No surprise there."
"She can't do that," Brooke stared.
"You of all people should know that she can do whatever she wants. And no we can't play Quidditch…all because of Malfoy."
"I'm sorry, Harry. That's awful, but it's more of Umbridge to blame than Draco."
"If he would've kept his mouth shut…" Harry kept talking, ignoring her comment.
"That's not fair to think it's all his fault."
"Not fair? Not fair is Fred being banned for no reason and Crabbe walking away with barely a punishment," Harry said and walked off away from her. Hopeless, Brooke turned into the Great Hall for dinner and sat down with Neville, Dean and Seamus.
Not in the mood to eat much, she forced down what she put on her plate and went off in front of the Slytherin common room, telling a third year to get Draco out.
"What did I do now?" Draco walked up from the dungeon, spotting the weary look on Brooke's face.
"Harry, Fred and George are banned from playing Quidditch," she tried to say in the least accusatory voice she could muster up.
"Really?" he said with almost a bit of delight. "Lessens up the Gryffindor team, I see."
She gave him a disdainful look.
"Just trying to lighten you up."
"I don't think he's ever going to talk to me again," she shook her head.
Draco stuck around her for the majority of the next day, hanging around the corridors, the library and the Great Hall, since they were too lazy and much too cold to go out. Late in the night, she walked into the empty common room and silently went up to the girls' dormitory.
Harry had thoroughly avoided conversation with her, up until at few days later. The day before they were allowed to leave for the Christmas, Brooke and Draco walked to the Great Hall and approached the Gryffindor table where Harry, Ron and Hermione were.
She wished they had sat more towards the entrance doors as heads of Gryffindors looked up and glared at Draco all the way down. Harry, Fred and George gave the worst of the death glares before ignoring Draco and going back to eating their breakfasts.
"Sorry about what happened at the game," Draco mumbled to them. "It's awful that you were banned."
"Brooke put you up to this?" Harry remarked bitterly.
"Yes," he gained a small bit of annoyance in his tone, "but I really am sorry. To you too, Weasley."
Harry rolled his eyes, but Hermione piped up for them both. "They accept your apology, don't you?" she looked at them sternly.
"No," Harry said without looking up.
"Yeah, thanks Granger," Draco muttered and walked away back to the entrance. Not surprised by their reactions, Brooke went after him.
"They'll come around soon," she said.
"I just had Granger stand up to them for me. What kind of rubbish is that?"
"I know, but at least you did what you had to do."
"I did what you told me to do," he corrected her, but shook his head. "Anyway I wanted to give you your Christmas present early." Draco reached into his dress robes and pulled out a small pouch.
She opened it and poured the contents into her palm. It was a dark silver ring. Actually, it had three thin rings adjoined at the top by a section of smooth black marble. As she took a closer look, the black marble was also embedded into the thinner rings.
"It's beautiful," she exclaimed, almost entranced by the deep patterns from the marble.
"Thought you might like it," he smiled.
Brooke put it on her left little finger and examined how it looked.
"Don't take it off, alright?" Draco asked, holding the finger the ring wrapped around. "Promise?"
"Do I ever take off anything you've given me?" she pulled the gold chain out from the neck of her robes.
He grinned and looked at her seriously, "You promise though, right? No matter what happens?"
"I won't take it off," she replied and grabbed his hand reassuringly.
A mass of owls screeched through the Great Hall carrying packages and mails, including a long wrapped broom. It wasn't the normal thing to be sent to Hogwarts and most of the students watched it as it landed upon Ron's opens palms. Even from where they stood, Brooke could see the whites of Ron's eyes and the tonsils in his mouth. He tore it open just as he did to the Cleansweep, and once he got to the handle it looked as if someone hit him with a freezing charm. Brooke hurried over to the table to hear Ron's choked voice say, "A Nimbus 2001." The cursive letters gleamed in gold.
"Who's it from?" asked Harry.
"Dunno. There's no name or anything," said Ron, still staring at the broom.
"Who would send you something like this without a name?" asked Brooke, until she thought about it for a moment and looked at Draco, who was smirking. Harry, Ron and Hermione were too busy with the broom to take much notice. She gave him an inquiring expression.
Draco gave a small shrug and a head tilt. "Thought this apology would be better than the last one," he said quietly so only she would hear him.
"How did you even get this?" she whispered.
"One letter to father about how I broke mine and," he gestured to the broom.
She smiled and gently squeezed his hand. There were points like these, where she wished people knew that Draco was more than capable of compassion than they originally thought.
"You are incredibly unbelievable, Draco Malfoy," she said earnestly.
He grinned.
"I also told him about you," he added wearily.
"Told who?" Brooke asked apprehensively.
"My father," he said.
"You told him about us? About us going out? He knows we're together?"
"Yes…" he answered, suspicious of how agitated Brooke suddenly got. "Was I not supposed to?"
"No, that puts us both-" she said, but quickly retracted. He can't know about the Order's warnings. "I mean, I just thought he'd react really horribly."
"He did," Draco said sourly. "He forbids it, thinks I've made one of the biggest mistakes of my life and didn't exactly say very many nice things about you." He sat down on the empty seat, not even regarding the fact that it was on the Gryffindor table. Sitting next to him, she took his arm gently. "But it's not like they can come here and tell me what to do," he snapped back.
"No. Maybe you shouldn't mention us being together for a while…and you know, I'm a letter away and I can get you out of that place in a hurry over the holidays," she tried to cheer him up.
"Yeah, I know, but I'll be fine," he reassured her and stood up. "I'm gonna go get breakfast, though. I'm starving."
"Alright," she added letting go of his hand and heading back to where Harry, Hermione and Ron were, just as Ron stood up clutching onto the broom.
"I'm gonna go try this out," he explained.
"Right now? Don't you think it's a little chilly to go out and fly?" said Hermione, noting the draft of snow that came in.
"It's a Nimbus 2001, Hermione!" Ron exclaimed, walking off with Harry.