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BKC

Chapter 11

"I know he's young, but he was it Miss Granger. The Finches were the only ones willing to make any type of trade." Removing her sunglasses from her the top of her head, Hermione sighed and shook her head at Michael. Lance Morcroft had just arrived via portkey that morning from the states and so far, she was unimpressed. She turned away as he dropped another quaffle. "I'm sure it's just nerves."

"O'Kelly!" He turned his attention to her as she approached. "Any chance of running a few extra drills with Morcroft? I want him to be ready next week but currently, my hopes aren't high." O'Kelly gave a nod of his head in agreement.

"Of course Miss Granger. Already had it all planned out," he tapped the clipboard in his hands for emphasis. "I've got him running drills the rest of today and tomorrow he'll have a few private lessons. He's a bit rough around the edges. I doubt they were even using him as a main reserve. This boy has probably never seen the air of the pitch on game day." O'Kelly removed the hat from his head, wiping the sweat from his brow. It was an unusually warm day in Falmouth, which was causing his players to act out more than usual. With a blow of his whistle, the team circled up.

"Alright men, it's going to be a tough game on Sunday. The Ballycastle Bats had a great opening game and we didn't fair quite as well," a few teammates glared in Draco's direction to which he sneered in response. "I have high hopes for us but we need to work as a team to get Morcroft ready."

Hermione could feel someone's eyes drift towards her, noticing Rhys giving her an appreciative nod. She looked down, realizing her shirt was not quite appropriate for the pitch and quickly moved her hand to cover her exposed cleavage. His grin was a mile wide until a beater bat hit him on the back of the head.

"Are you dense? Did you learn nothing from Levski? Treat the woman with respect!" Dillion had grabbed Ritchie's bat and was giving Rhys a stern look. Hermione had noticed that Dillion appeared to be a somewhat responsible and well-rounded person. "Apologize to the lady."

Rhys rubbed the knot that was slowly growing on his head. "I couldn't help meself. She's got a lovely set there, really you do." He turned his attention to Hermione once more. She turned a dark shade of red and adverted her eyes to the ground as his Irish accent came out thick throughout his apology. "But I'm sorry. I'll try to be less of a tosser from here on, I swear."

Granted she wasn't thrilled to yet again be a topic of conversation for the men on her team, she did appreciate his apology and his vow to try not to make her uncomfortable in the future.

"I'd very much appreciate that Craggy. I'd hate to have to replace you as well." Her tone was stern and he nodded his head in understanding.

"I understand Miss Granger."

"If you lot are done being fools, can we please get back to practice?" The men nodded their heads in agreement and the whistle blew once more. Taking off in every direction, practice resumed again.

Hermione took a seat in the stands, much lower than she would sit for normal games. She had to admit, the view from down here wasn't great. She sighed as she looked to her box, thousands of steps away. The sun was beating down of her in her current seat and her hat had been long forgotten in her office.

"Little warm there Granger?" Draco was practicing in less attire then normal. His typical long sleeve shirt was replaced by a plain dark grey team shirt. He at least had the common sense to still have his pads on, though she noted he kept itching at the bare skin underneath them.

"Get back to practice Malfoy. I don't want a repeat of last week." She leaned back on, resting her elbows on the bench behind her and stretching her legs to prop up on the seat in front of her. It was hard for Draco not to notice her outfit that day. It was obvious why Rhys had been staring at her. The pencil skirt she had on today seemed shorter than her others, hitting about four inches above her knee. Her normally covered shoulders were bare, exposing her freckling skin. Then there was the matter of her cleavage. Typically a high collared shirt of some kind, it'd been replaced by deep cut blouse, offering a view that many had never seen before. He'd appeared to make his observations unnoticed, as he had yet to have a curse thrown at him.

"All I'm saying is, had you already knew how to fly, you could be in your box by now…" he flashed her a smirk and in return Hermione glared at him.

"Just go do what you're supposed to do Malfoy or I'll replace you with Gudgeon for Sunday's game."

"Ha! I don't believe that for a second." His lips curved up from a smirk into a genuine grin before he gave a hearty chuckle.

"Don't push your luck Malfoy. I'm in no mood for your antics today."

"Granger, you're not in the mood for anything at any point in time. Have you ever considered pulling the stick you have jammed up your arse out for a day to see what it feels like to be carefree?" Her face reddened at his remark. Hermione didn't actually want Galvin to replace Draco in the game, but Draco wasn't giving her much of a choice when it came to standing her ground.

"One more remark and I'm pulling you Malfoy. I mean it." Her voice was level and her tone low. She's pulled her sunglasses away from her face, allowing him to see her glaring eyes.

"Prissy bit-"

"O'KELLY!" Hermione clumsily stood, looking around Draco for the coach. "Please get Gudgeon out on the field! He'll be taking Malfoy's place on Sunday!" The coach dropped his clipboard and threw his hands up in the air. He mumbled to himself but Hermione was much too far away to catch any of it.

"Granger, you can't be serious. Let me play."

"Malfoy, I warned you multiple times not to push me and you did, yet again. I glad to have you on this team and I want you to play and win, but I will not allow you to speak to me as you have. Just because we have a history, doesn't mean I'm not still your boss around here." She stood and turned around, not bothering to look back at him. He dismounted his broom and had every intention of following her and giving her a piece of his mind but he stopped. That's what she expected. Pulling him from the game was sure to ruffle his feathers. This had to be payback for the clause in his contract. Well, today he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of wanting to be right. Straightening his back and shoulders, broom in hand, he headed back down to the pitch to finish practice.