A/N. 63 reviews. Damn, you guys really know how to make a girl feel loved! Thank you so much for your reviews, they really make my day. I hope I never disappoint!
Small clarification for anyone confused –this story is set in their sixth year, but it's out-of-context from the fifth book onward.
I feel the need to warn you guys, though –we are a few chapters from the end of this fanfic. I never actually intended this to get too long, but it sort of just grew on its own! Regrettably, however, all stories must come to an end, but I'll definitely continue to write more fanfic in the future. Hopefully I'll see some familiar names in the reviews page then, haha!
But don't get all depressed now. Just sit back and enjoy the chapter, and the end will come when it will.
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JANUARY 17th. 188 DAYS AGO.
"Tighter formation! No, not like that, Pucey, damnit. Those bloody Gryffindors will steal the Quaffle from you if you try to show off when you can't!"
Draco dove in frustration, snatching the Quaffle from Adrian Pucey and leveling out his broom in order to demonstrate the maneuver he wanted the Chasers to try. Quidditch training could be so exasperating, especially since he'd been made Captain. Gripping the Quaffle tightly so as not to drop it, he directed the other two chasers, Warrington and Vaisey, to fly parallel to each other, and dropped a little to fly underneath them. Still calling out orders, they swooped toward the Keeper in tight formation, Draco just a little lower with his head level with their elbows. At the last minute Draco sped up and swerved and tossed the Quaffle to Vaisey, who flung it in for a goal, Draco's swerve having distracted the Keeper, Bletchley. Having completed the maneuver, Draco turned back to Pucey. "Did you see that?"
Pucey just glared at him and nodded. Draco sighed. After putting in a few more drills, and sending Pucey to the hospital wing for being hit in the head by a stray Bludger, Draco called an end to the Quidditch practice. The team touched down but Draco stayed up in the air, watching them make the usual jokes about bloody Gryffindors and Mudbloods, and sighed. Finally, one by one, his team members left.
It wasn't that late into the night yet, and the pitch would remain lit until curfew, so Draco vented his frustrations by doing a few dives and spins around the field. Finally, after a few goes at a Wronski Feint (and almost killing himself in the process), he touched down, feeling just a little better than he had earlier.
It had been almost a week since he had held Hermione on that snowy afternoon in Hogsmeade, and they hadn't spoken yet. Their paths only crossed during class time, where they couldn't exactly strike up a conversation. Draco had tried visiting the library a few times but never found her there. Sometimes in the corridors their eyes would meet, and they would exchange small, hurried smiles, but that was as much as Draco could get. He kicked at the chest of Quidditch balls in frustration. This was the first time he'd ever been so messed up by a girl and it annoyed him to no end. He went out of his way to catch her in corridors; he started dressing a bit nicer for class. Sometimes he found himself thinking about her in his daydreams. Angrily he took off his Quidditch robes, relaxing a little as the cool night air touched his bare chest and blew at the loose pants he wore underneath. He was just about to put on his shirt when he heard a small squeal.
He quickly turned, wand out, expecting to see Pansy or some other of his "fans," as Blaise had termed them. Instead, he was met with darkness. Not lowering his guard, he surveyed the stands near him, and nearly burst out laughing when he spotted a very red-faced Hermione standing two stands away, ducking behind a book.
"Are you developing a new hobby? Stalking me around school?" He grinned, still not putting on his shirt just to tease her a little. She lowered her book a bit to glower at him and stick out her tongue, then lifted it back up so that it almost covered her eyes.
He chuckled, reveling in the fact that he could make her react this way. "What's the matter? Don't like what you see?" He raised his eyebrows and she retreated further behind the book.
"Just put a shirt on, Malfoy," she said, her voice stilted and muffled. Laughing still, but not wishing to truly irritate her, he put on his shirt.
"There. I'm decent." She peeked over the book and, obviously relieved that he was now fully clothed, walked over. "How long have you been watching?"
"Not very long, actually. You were the only one left on the pitch when I passed by the castle windows and saw you. You fly pretty well," she added as an afterthought, her cheeks still pink. Draco thought she looked endearing, and considered letting a Bludger loose so it could smack him on the head. It was girls who lost their heads around him, not the other way around. He was behaving like a moronic adolescent.
"And so you decided to come down here and peep at me while I changed," he commented dryly, watching her blush deepen. Merlin, she was a pretty sight. Seeing her bite her lip in embarrassment was making him forget he was tired or frustrated.
"How was I supposed to know I'd catch you without a shirt on," she countered hotly, and Draco felt the same urge he'd had in the prefects' compartment back on the Hogwarts Express. He laughed again to stop himself from following through, and sat down, rubbing his aching muscles. After a few moments, she came and sat next to him.
"Why are you here, though?" His question fell into the night air, hung between them. He didn't know what answer he was hoping for.
"I don't actually know. I was coming from the library. I saw you flying on your own from a castle window, and before I knew it, my feet were taking me here." She rubbed at her cheeks and Draco had to stop himself from stroking them to deepen her blush. "You really do fly well," she said again.
"Do you fly as well?" he asked, partly out of curiosity and partly to keep their conversation going. She shook her head. "Why not? I'd have thought with friends like Potter and Weasel, you would, at least on occasion." She mumbled something he didn't catch. "What?" he asked, frowning. She shook her head, her face turning beet red. "Come on, tell me." Tentatively he placed a hand on her knee. "Please?" He didn't think it was possible, but her face turned redder. His heart was starting to race.
"I'm afraid of heights," she finally whispered, turning her head away, and Draco bit his lip to keep from laughing. "And I keep thinking that I'll slip off the broom and fall."
"Have you ever tried?"
"Just once. After one of Harry's and Ron's Quidditch practices. I didn't get very high or go very far, I was too frightened." She laughed a little at herself.
Draco cocked his head a bit and looked at her. She met his gaze, her eyebrows raised. "Fly with me," he said impulsively. He didn't know where he was trying to go, but he did know that he didn't want to go back just yet and that there was a pretty girl next to him telling him she was afraid of flying. It felt like the right thing to do.
Her eyes widened. "I- I can't. It's already night time and I don't have any experience-" She broke off.
He got up, knelt in front of her, proffered his hand. "I won't let you fall," he said quietly. Except for me, he suddenly thought, and almost blushed as well. When the bloody hell had he turned into such a sap? He turned his attention back to her. She was starting to look like a tomato with hair. "You won't have anything to be afraid of." There was a long pause but Draco didn't put his hand down. He simply knelt there, waiting, steel eyes staring into brown eyes. She looked scared, but Draco caught a flicker of some unidentifiable emotion in her eyes. His heart thudded in his chest.
Finally, slowly, she placed her hand in his. Draco almost sighed in relief. He stood up and led her to where his broom lay. She hesitated, but moved forward when he smiled reassuringly at her. He picked it up and held it out. "Do you know how to get on?"
"Yes." Her voice was more high-pitched than usual. Draco steadied the broom as she slowly swung her leg over it. "But there's only one broom. What about you?"
"Oh, I think my broom is strong enough to carry both of us." And with that, he got on behind her and kicked off. She shrieked, and Draco laughed. He wrapped an arm around her waist, holding onto the broom tightly with the other hand. They soared upward, until the castle came into view. The stars shone overhead and the breeze was cool and she was pressed against him, her hands gripping the broom for dear life. "You're closing your eyes, aren't you," he teased as he slowed down to a hover. She nodded slowly. His cheek was against her hair and the smell of lemons was intoxicating him. "Open them," he commanded, holding her to him securely.
"No."
He laughed quietly. "I told you. You have nothing to be afraid of. I'm here. I won't let you fall." He shifted his grip so his hand was around hers. There was a pause –and then she gasped.
"Wow," she breathed, and Draco silently agreed with her. The sky was clear and full of stars. The Forbidden Forest was white with snow. The castle stood in some distance away, bathed in the moonlight. Fireflies winked in and out of the darkness. Up here in just a shirt and pants, Draco felt the chill, but her body was warm against his. He had never understood why people didn't fly at this time. The view was breathtaking.
"Now aren't you glad I brought you up here?" He chuckled.
"Shut it, Draco."
"I'll take that as a yes." But her reaction warmed him. "Have you had enough?"
"Maybe just a little longer." He could tell from her voice that she was smiling and laughed again, flew over to the lake. He could feel her shaking in his arms. He brought them down slowly, until they were barely above the surface. When she whimpered, he turned, skirted the lake, following the shoreline. He kept their speed down, not wanting to scare her too much. Slowly, he felt her grip loosen on the broom, and a laugh escaped her lips. They were flying near the castle now. The lights inside were winking out, and Draco knew curfew was drawing near. He dipped, bringing them to the entrance of the castle. They hovered over the ground, and Draco found he was unwilling to let her go. For a while neither of them moved. Finally, Draco felt he couldn't delay it any longer and set them on the grass, withdrew his arm from her waist. They got off, stood there awkwardly. Draco couldn't think of anything to say.
"Thank you." She broke the silence, gazing at him, smiling. "That didn't end up as scary as I thought it would be."
He chuckled. "How many times must I repeat myself? You have-"
"Nothing to be afraid of since you're here." She smiled. "Strangely enough, I'm starting to believe that."
"Why is it strange?" What was she telling him?
"You haven't bullied me in ages. I can't remember the last time I heard you say something mean to me. You actually call me Hermione." She frowned. "What happened to you?"
"What do you mean?"
"It's rather unusual for Draco Malfoy to suddenly turn around and befriend the Mudblood he's hated all these years." She looked up at the castle and Draco wondered if she was avoiding looking at him.
"I do think 'rather unusual' is an understatement." She laughed. "But I do understand."
"Well?" She was looking at him now, expectant. Draco didn't know how to answer her. He'd been rather impulsive lately, with everything he'd done with her, but he still didn't have the courage to come out and admit what she'd done to him. He wasn't even completely sure of what she had done, himself.
"People change," he finally replied, gazing up at the stars. He felt the need to continue his explanation but didn't quite know what to say.
"I'm glad you did." The tone of her voice made Draco's heart skip a beat. He shuffled his feet, suddenly uncomfortable. She turned to leave. Suddenly, Draco wanted nothing more than to close that distance between them, finally, but he stood rooted to the spot. Was it just him, or was there disappointment in her eyes? "Well, good night, Draco."
"Good night, Hermione." She smiled once more and disappeared into the castle. With a glance at where she'd been standing, Draco mounted his broom and kicked off, soaring high into the night sky. The rush of cold air cleared his head a bit, though inside he was still in turmoil. I'm glad you did. What had she meant by that? Was she just happy that he'd stopped tormenting her? And what about that flicker of disappointment he could have sworn he'd seen in her eyes?
Draco flew over the castle grounds, ignoring the cold that bit through his shirt and pants. He tried to ignore the disappointment he had for himself, for not having done what he should have when he'd had the chance. He touched down where he'd left his things, finished changing, and packed up the equipment they'd used. The scent of lemons lingered, or maybe that was just him. He made his way to the castle on foot, though he felt exhausted. The entrance hall was dark and silent, and as he made his way toward the dungeon, he didn't notice the dark figure standing in a corner by a window that had a perfect view of where he and Hermione had been standing. He dropped his things next to his bed and fell asleep the second he hit his bed.
Meanwhile, in the entrance hall, Severus Snape moved away from the window and disappeared into the darkness.
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A/N. Now did that tickle your Dramione fangirl bones? R&R to let me know what you think, please and thank you!