Chapter Thirty-Seven
"It's going to be sooo romantic," Lavender sighed, two nights after the events of the Slytherin practice, flopping onto her bed and hugging her pillow with a happy squeal. Hermione and Ginny both looked over at her curiously.
"Did we miss something?" Ginny asked from her own bed, where she was leaned up against her pillows, dressed down in a navy jumper, leggings, and fuzzy socks, her bright copper hair standing out starkly against the dark palette of her clothes. She'd been studying for an upcoming Astronomy exam, and Hermione had been quizzing her.
"Carter Ravenscourt invited me to accompany him to the Leonid Meteor Shower viewing tonight. Aren't you going?" Lavender sat up, squinting at Ginny in surprise. "I would have thought Harry would have asked you long before now."
Hermione glanced at Ginny, but she shrugged. "This is the first I've heard of it," Ginny admitted.
"Is there some sort of school event organized? Madam Adelaide didn't mention it in class this week, and she's usually very good about telling us about celestial events," Hermione added, setting down Ginny's textbook.
Lavender rolled her eyes. "This isn't a school thing, Hermione, it's not important enough for the professors to care. They only tell us if something rare is happening. However, if you're interested in watching falling stars with an utterly gorgeous Chaser from Ravenclaw, well, it's something you ought to consider." She narrowed her eyes then, as if Hermione was about to jump up off the bed and spirit said Chaser away. "But paws off Carter; he's mine!"
Ginny laughed, shaking her head at Lavender's dramatics. "Harry hasn't said anything, but I bet I could convince him to go. After all, something about getting a girl alone in the dark appeals to boys for some reason," she mused, smirking in the general direction of the boy's dorm. "When are people gathering?"
"Carter said not to come before eight-thirty, it needs to be proper dark in order to see the meteors well," Lavender replied promptly, sitting up and setting her pillow aside. "We're meeting down near the lake, away from the Castle lights. Best to go tell Harry soon, dear." Lavender paused to look at her watch. "Goodness, I didn't realize it was so late already! I need to start getting ready. If you want to join Parvati and me in her room to get dressed, feel free. Oh," Lavender seemed to remember Hermione's presence then, and hesitated in the doorway, looking slightly awkward. "You can come too, Hermione. You don't have to have a date. Though I'm sure I could rustle someone up if you'd like. The Ravenclaw Beaters are fairly passible if you like the big, brutish type…"
Hermione lifted a hand to halt any more talk in that direction, flashing back to Pansy's comments about Victor Krum. "I'm fine on my own, Lavender," she said quickly. "I'd like to see the meteor shower though. I'm sure it's a fascinating celestial event; and viewing it in the highlands away from city lights must be stunning!" The more she thought about it, the more Hermione found herself looking forward to seeing it. Though she knew the Leonid Meteor Shower was an annual event, Hermione had never seen much of it, as the city lights washed out the sky when she was at home, and at Hogwarts she had often been too busy with schoolwork to take the time.
"Exactly," Ginny agreed, grinning. "And if any professors bust us, we can just tell them we're doing extra credit for Astronomy class."
Lavender rolled her eyes at this remark, and Hermione felt a faint shiver of unease wash over her. Until Ginny had brought it up, breaking curfew hadn't even occurred to her. "Oh, um, right. Well, I'm sure I could take a few notes, just in case…"
Lavender leaned against the doorframe, eyeing Hermione's unsure expression with a beady one of her own. "The only note I plan on taking, Hermione Granger, is whether my dress tonight puts as many stars in Carter Ravenscourt's eyes as there are falling from the sky." With that she flounced from the room.
Hermione set down Ginny's textbook, "Sky of Wonder", and shook her head at the empty doorway. Lavender seemed vapid and boy-obsessed, just like she always had, but sometimes Hermione wondered if it was all an act, something the other girl clung to in order not to have to think about other, darker, times. She wouldn't judge her for it; if that was what Lavender needed to hold onto some sort of peace in her life, then so be it. "So, are you going to go drag Harry away from whatever nonsense he and Ron are up to in their dorm to go star gazing?" Hermione teased, not quite meeting Ginny's eyes as she got up to return to her own bed.
"Are you going to drag Malfoy away from whatever trouble he's getting into in his dorm then?" Ginny countered at the speed of light, catching Hermione completely off guard, and causing her to nearly miss the side of her bed as she started to sit down.
"W-what?" Hermione stuttered, clutching wildly at her bedcovers so that she wouldn't slide right off the bed and land in a heap on the floor. Ginny's sharp eyes watched her with a calculated gleam.
"It would be a good opportunity, is all I'm saying," Ginny said smoothly, a smirk tilting her lips as she pushed up off her own bed and crossed the room to her wardrobe. An opportunity for what, exactly, she didn't say, and Hermione most certainly did not ask.
"Draco doesn't seem the type to particularly enjoy events like this," Hermione said quickly, sidestepping the idea that asking Draco to meet her at such an event was akin to a date, and they were just friends. Much as she wished otherwise. At that thought she felt a blush blaze across her cheeks and hurriedly reached for a random textbook, opening it up on her lap so that she wouldn't have to meet Ginny's keen gaze. "We probably won't even see him there."
Ginny ignored this as she strode from the room, on her way to root out her boyfriend, but Hermione could feel the look Ginny gave her as she passed. She wondered if she should see if Draco was going. They were friends, after all, close friends even. But what if he got the wrong idea? What if his treatment of her was purely friendly teasing, and a little flirting, the way he was with any girl he was close to, and she did something to upset the balance of their relationship? She was too afraid of losing that to say anything more until, and unless, she was absolutely sure he felt the same way she did.
She really hoped that that discovery didn't take seven years like it had with Ron.
Pushing up off the bed, Hermione crossed to her armoire to pick out clothes for the evening. She didn't know how Lavender could wear a dress. It was late November in Scotland, at night. It would be cold out. Hermione settled on slim jeans, leather boots, a blue jumper, and a woollen scarf, draping her cloak over her arm. Glancing at the clock, she found that it was only six-thirty. The way Lavender had been going on it had made Hermione think it was much later than it was. Unsure exactly what to do to kill time for the next hour and a half before heading down to the lake, she made her way down to the common room, a book under her arm, intending to read by the fire until the other girls were ready to go.
#
It was cold down by the lake. Of course, Hermione had expected it to be as such, but she was still shivering. During the day, with the sun out, it was still almost pleasant out in the grounds. Fall still clung to the trees, their leaves crimson and gold and as thick on their branches as they were scattered across the grounds, but the sharp tang of winter was in the air at night.
"Over here!" Ginny declared, huddling against Harry's side a few paces ahead of Hermione, pointing toward a spot on one of the bluffs that still had room and leading their party toward it.
There were a surprisingly large amount of students trickling down toward the lake's edge and spreading out blankets and lanterns, Hermione noted, probably helped along by the fact that that night's event weren't exactly breaking any rules. Hermione had heard a pair of sixth year girls chattering excitedly about how Madam Adelaide had promised them extra credit if they promised to write ten inches on their experience by the end of the week, as they scurried past her in the dark, a pair of boys nudging each other and giving the girls appreciative looks as they hurried to keep pace, and though she hadn't really been planning to do any homework on the night herself, Hermione still felt a little better that the event had, in the end, been sanctioned by someone on the faculty in some small way.
Ginny and Harry had stopped at the spot Ginny had indicated, and were now shaking out a large flannel blanket. Hermione caught a fluttering corner whipped up by the night wind and helped her friends stake out their claim, seating herself on one side while Harry plopped down across from her, drawing Ginny down between his legs and wrapping his arms around her for warmth. Trying not to feel like a third wheel, Hermione smiled at her friends before scanning the crowd to see who else had arrived. She saw Ron and Violet further down the beach, huddled close, with Ron's gangly arm draped across the smaller girl's shoulders as he'd once done with Hermione; Parvati and a blond boy Hermione knew was top of the Charms club, and Lavender and Carter, the Ravenclaw Chaser, next to them—Lavender in her aforementioned teeny tiny dress, sitting in Carter's lap and cuddling up against his broad chest, a fact he looked supremely pleased about. Squinting across the crowd of low, chattering voices, and silhouettes of couples or small groups of people, Hermione scanned the gathered students for anyone in green and silver. Though no one could hear her thoughts of course, Hermione still felt her heart beat faster as she privately hoped she'd see Draco among the crowd.
A sudden cry of excitement went up a minute later as the first of the falling stars in the meteor shower was finally visible, arcing across the sky, and the gathered students erupted in squeals and gasps of delight. Girls cuddled into their boyfriends, and boys hugged their sweethearts, the chatter among the crowd lowering as if they now all sat under the dome of some great cathedral. Hermione hugged her knees, feeling a little lonely despite her friends all around her, though the feeling was muted by the beauty of the sky spread out before her.
"We're late!" hissed an annoyed voice somewhere behind Hermione, and she pulled her eyes from the sky to squint into the darkness at a small group hurrying across the grass. There had to be four, or maybe five, people clumped together, she guessed, though their cloaks were pulled close and she couldn't make out more than a few smudges of colour that hinted at faces due to darkness and distance.
"It's not like we're going to miss anything," a male voice placated the girl who'd spoken a moment earlier, "the thing lasts until dawn."
"Well, if someone hadn't insisted we had to bring hot cider…" the girl grumbled, and the boy chuckled, not at all put off by her tone.
"You'll thank me later," he promised, finally close enough for Hermione to make out who was speaking. "Oh, look who it is!" he called, voice loud in the dark, and the girl shushed him, coming up next to him, blonde hair swishing about her shoulders.
"Ah, Weasley," said a third figure, coming up next to the girl on her other side and placing his hands against his heart as if in pain. "Must you rub my unrequited love in my face like this?"
Now Ginny and Harry both looked over, Harry's eyebrows going up in question as Ginny's confusion cleared and she laughed. "Shut it, Munoz," she said with a grin. "Or I'll sick the Chosen One on you."
Miguel chuckled, grinning down at the Gryffindor party, and Hermione noted the last member of their group finally stepping into the lantern light. Draco was there after all.
"Alright, Potter?" Phil said politely, and Harry seemed to relax, nodding at the slightly portly Slytherin with a wary grin. "Granger?" he added, and Hermione smiled up at him.
"Hi, Phil," she replied amiably, then, after a slight pause, "Sylvia, Miguel." The two Slytherins looked faintly surprised to be addressed so informally, though neither looked entirely displeased by her choice of title either.
"Why don't you join us?" Ginny offered. "There's room on the bluff."
"If you don't mind," Phil replied, glancing around at his friends.
Miguel shrugged, looking relaxed, and sprawled easily across the end of Ginny's blanket with a cheeky grin, while Harry cast him a warning look—though he seemed to only half mean it. Miguel really was simply a helpless flirt, he didn't mean anything by it, Hermione knew. Phil and Sylvia spread out a blanket beside them, Sylvia sitting daintily with her legs curled to one side, Phil next to her, a canteen full of the aforementioned cider set in front of him. Draco dropped gracefully into the space on the far side of the blanket, murmuring something into his friend's ear with a covert glance at Sylvia—and causing Phil to duck his head and glance shyly in that direction himself—before he he finally seemed to notice Hermione.
"Evening, Hermione," Draco said with a nod, a small smile on his lips as he took in the scene before him. "Having a good time?"
She was distinctly aware of both Ginny and Harry sneaking looks at her from the shadows, though they did their best to hide it, their sudden stillness gave them away. She knew what Ginny must be thinking: they were all sitting in couples, Ginny and Harry, Sylvia and Phil, and now herself and Draco—a move that seemed suspiciously orchestrated by Phil as he'd maneuvered himself between his two friends when seating himself earlier. Perhaps she ought to move a little closer to Miguel, Hermione pondered, since he didn't appear to have a date either—though his quasi-pining for her best friend might cause problems. Glancing at Draco, and glad for the darkness that hid her blush, Hermione offered a small smile in return.
"Yes, it's a perfect night for it, so clear out, even if it's freezing!" she replied, trying to make her voice light, hugging her knees tighter for warmth, and shutting her mouth tightly when she realized she was rambling.
"Cider?" Phil offered, holding his canteen out across Draco's long legs and forcing the other boy to lean back or risk dumping the contents into his lap.
"Oh," Hermione said, a little startled, though she took the proffered canteen and sipped at it. It was hot and tangy, and surprisingly didn't taste of alcohol. "Thank-you." Phil gestured at her to pass the canteen to her friends and both Ginny and Harry drank before handing the heavy canteen back.
Draco intercepted her as she reached across him to return the canteen to Phil, catching her wrist and gently tugging the canteen toward himself. "Trying to skip me, Granger?" he chided, a smirk on his lips at her awkward halt midway across his lap.
"It's not spiked," Miguel called out from where he now lay on his back, arms tucked behind his head and eyes on the sky. "I'm sure Granger figured you wouldn't want any."
"Keep talking, Munoz," Draco replied silkily, "and you're going to make up-close-and-personal friends with the Giant Squid."
Miguel chuckled, not in the least concerned, and Hermione giggled too, though the sound fizzled out when Draco turned back to look at her, his fingers still wrapped around her wrist.
"I'm still waiting for my drink," he continued, voice teasing, then pulled her wrist upwards so he could swig from the canteen before taking the container easily from Hermione's unresisting hands and giving it back to Phil, who shook his head, laughing under his breath. He released her wrist—which he'd still been holding with his other hand—and Hermione pulled her eyes away from where they'd been drawn to Draco's mouth, tucking her arms in, hands balled up protectively under her chin as she willed her heart to stop racing.
What the hell had that been about? Was he trying to cause a scene, provoke Harry into a reaction? Though, as she glanced covertly over at Harry and Ginny, neither one appeared to be watching her any more, instead turned together and whispering among themselves. It was like they didn't even care. Hermione frowned at her friends, wondering at their lack of reaction over Draco's teasing. On the one hand, it was what she'd been wanting, wasn't it? For her friends to accept Draco as 'one of them'? On the other had, Draco's teasing didn't feel precisely platonic, as the same action from Harry might have been, so did that mean her friends had accepted him as a possible boyfriend for her? Not, of course, that he was any such thing, she reminded herself, suddenly feeling much warmer than the night air might ordinarily have allowed. Hermione was thankfully saved from her own head by Sylvia, who was scanning the crowded shore of the lake as she shifted on her blanket.
"You know what would make this even more spectacular?" the Slytherin girl commented, casting an appraising look at the amassed students. "If there wasn't so many people around."
"You think so?" came Ginny's voice from across the blankets, turning in Harry's embrace. "I think it's more fun to share the night with others."
"I like doing things like this with friends," Hermione chimed in when she felt eyes on her, "though it might be easier to fully appreciate the experience if there were less distractions." Sylvia nodded appreciatively at Hermione's agreement, while Ginny, behind Hermione's back, exchanged a look with Phil.
"I have to agree with Melville," came Miguel's voice from behind Hermione. "I would much prefer a more private audience with which to enjoy tonight's romantic atmosphere."
Harry chuckled. "I've heard stories about you, Munoz," he called over his shoulder with a grin. "The Casanova of Slytherin, are you?"
"I do not deny this," Miguel replied gamely, lifting a hand from where he lay in magnanimous acknowledgement of Harry's joke.
"Should I be insulted?" Draco asked, mock offence in his tone as he leaned around Hermione to flick a pebble at Miguel.
"You have to admit you have not been defending your title with much zeal this year, Malfoy," he tossed back with a sly smile.
For some reason a strange look passed over Draco's face at this, though a moment later he seemed to shake off the comment, a light coming to his eyes as if he'd had an interesting idea. "Be right back," he called to the group at large, pushing to his feet and turning to jog off into the night, his slim Seeker's form darting easily through the scattered groups of students.
He didn't return for fifteen minutes, and Hermione heard Phil and Sylvia quietly discussing where he'd got to—when suddenly Draco reappeared he had a tall object held behind his back, obscured by his cloak and the shadows of night. He looked down at Hermione and held out a hand to her. "I think I can solve your problem with distractions," was all he said when she stared up at him in confusion.
"Uh…" Hermione glanced at Draco's proffered hand, then around at the others, and found them all watching her in return. Harry narrowed his eyes at Malfoy for a moment, but then his expression cleared as he seemed to make out what the other boy was trying to conceal behind his body. Ginny was smirking, a dare in her eyes; and Phil and Sylvia bent forward—closer to Draco than Hermione was at the moment, and peered at the object he held in curiosity.
Embarrassed at the scene Draco was causing, standing there as if he wouldn't move until she took his hand, Hermione gave in and allowed him to pull her easily to her feet. "Ok, fine," she allowed, shooting Draco a suspicious look just to be on the safe side. "But if this is some prank…"
"Oh, go on, Granger," Miguel called, "give the man his mystery." The others laughed at this, and a few other students sitting nearby looked over too. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Miguel called as Draco helped Hermione to step over the others on the blanket, his grip firm so that she wouldn't stumble.
"I'm far too much of a gentleman for that, Munoz," Draco retorted haughtily, leading Hermione into the darkness as the group burst into laughter that trailed them into the night.
#
"Where are we going?" Hermione hissed, trying to keep her voice down as they passed couples cuddling and, well, doing other things, under the velvety blanket of the night. She'd slipped her hand out of Draco's as soon as she could, face hot at his continued casual manner in touching her like that. She wasn't displeased by it, but the signals were admittedly confusing.
"Spoilers, Granger," Draco replied, continuing his trek across the bluff until they were far enough down the lakeshore not to be near any other students watching the meteor shower.
"I thought that was River's thing," Hermione teased, and Draco glanced over his shoulder at her in confusion.
"We're not by a river, Hermione, this," he gestured with his free hand, "is a lake."
"You know, River Song? On Doctor Who?" she continued, trying to peer around Draco and see what he had his cloak wrapped around. He caught her trying and twisted away with a grin, seeming to enjoy her curiosity. "It's a muggle show that's been on forever. She was always saying 'spoilers' when the Doctor asked her things she didn't want to share. It was why her hair was so big, it was full of secrets."
Draco raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps I should call you River then," he suggested with a smirk, eyeing her hair.
Hermione laughed. "I'd be honoured. Who needs a wand when you have a TARDIS and a sonic screwdriver?"
Draco finally came to a stop by the water's edge, pulling his awkward bundle around so that he could unwrap it, producing a broomstick. Hermione blinked at him.
"What's that?" she demanded, a shade of uncertainty colouring her tone.
Draco grinned. "A broomstick," he replied, clear amusement in his own voice.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I can see that, Malfoy," she said in exasperation. "Was that what you ran off to get? What on earth could you need it for tonight? There's no secret midnight match."
"That you know of," Draco teased, then chuckled at Hermione's surprised expression. "No, it's not for Quidditch," he acknowledged, resting the bristled end of the broomstick on the sand, its handle against his shoulder. "But Melville got me to thinking, it was kind of crowded where we were sitting."
"Ok," Hermione allowed, trying to remain calm. "Well, we're alone now…" She trailed off, the fact of the matter suddenly very real to her. The stretch of sand where Draco had lead them was indeed quite far away from the other night observers, and he was just standing there looking at her, as if waiting for the penny to drop. Her eyes fell on his broom once more and then widened. "Wait, you don't mean—"
"You have to admit, it would be a much better view," Draco countered, grinning now. "Now, now," he said quickly, moving toward her as Hermione began to back away, glancing over her shoulder as if debating making a break for the friends they'd left behind on the nice, safe, ground. "Give it a chance, Hermione. If you aren't enjoying yourself in five minutes or less, I promise to bring us straight back down; and you can spend the evening watching Munoz moon over Weasley."
Hermione giggled at that; it was hard not to, as even though Miguel was clearly only teasing Ginny for laughs, he did play the part of mournful spurned lover well. "Fine, five minutes," she said at last, forcing her feet to stop their backward trek. "But no pretending to lose control and almost dumping me in the lake!"
"Who's pretending?" Draco replied innocently, setting the broom to hover in the air, then ducking back out of the way of Hermione's smack at his arm with an unrepentant chuckle. "Ladies first."
Hermione perched on the handle, still a little in awe at the magic imbued in magical brooms so that they could hold virtually any human body without so much as bobbing in the air (so long as they weren't messed about with), then waited for Draco to climb on behind her and kick off. They shot up onto the air and she clutched at the handle, her stomach swooping as the ground fell away. Below them, the dark water of the lake was mirror glass—aside from the odd ripple produced by the giant squid as it glided around far out from shore—the sky reflected in its smooth surface, and Hermione watched a shower of shooting stars blaze across the watery canvas, their cold light sparkling even from so far away.
Draco had been right, this was a far superior view than they'd had on the ground, and it wasn't difficult to become lost in the magnificence of the wide open sky arcing over them in a canvas of velvety purple-black, far too many stars studding its vastness to ever be counted in a single lifetime.
"Worth it?" Draco murmured in her ear, and Hermione jumped a little, having half forgotten she wasn't the only one up there.
"Yes…" she breathed out in awe, not even bothered much by the cold air blowing off the lake and swirling around them, numbing her hands. Unconsciously, Hermione lifted her hands to her mouth to blow hot air on them, her eyes flickering across the sky to track each newly visible meteor as it streaked across the heavens. It was a breathtaking sight. As she lowered her only fractionally warmer fingers back down, a set of larger hands reached past her, wrapping around her hands and enclosing them. Hermione swallowed back a startled "Oh!" of surprise at the action, feeling her body settle back against Draco's chest as he tucked their hands against Hermione's front, warmth seeping back into her frozen fingers underneath his firm, faintly calloused grip.
"Better?" Draco queried, his voice equally warm in her ear. He sounded perfectly content, and Hermione wondered at his ease in such a situation. Why did he sound so bloody calm when she felt like she was coming apart at the seams?
"Oh, um, yes," she managed to say, heat flooding through her. Suddenly she didn't feel cold at all. The atmosphere felt abruptly electrified, far more romantic than it had been only moments before. She couldn't help the way her body tensed up with sudden nerves and tried to force herself to relax, to not read too much into things. Draco was probably just being friendly, conscientious. Not that Harry or Ron had ever touched her this way, this was a different sort of embrace.
Phil's words drifted back to her on the night wind. "Draco would never do the dirty with Granger…" he'd said, "he respects her too much." What had Phil meant by that really? Though his words had been off-the-cuff, she had been thinking about them since that night. Maybe he meant that Draco liked her enough not to simply want a one-and-done relationship? Her heart gave a hopeful little thump at this interpretation. Then again, his comment could be as simple as it had sounded, as the old saying went: "He's just not that into you." Her chest tightened at that thought. But then, why was he holding her like this? Why had he suggested they take this ride together?
They coasted gently through the air for a few minutes, the full moon huge and glowing behind them, and everywhere else around them… stars. Another meteor zipped past on its journey through the cosmos and Hermione shivered, automatically snuggling back into Draco's body for warmth. A moment later she realized what she was doing and tried to move inconspicuously away, but there wasn't a lot of space for her to move to. Trying to save face, she cast about for something to break the silence.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Hermione heard herself say, her voice a little unsteady in her awkwardness, then, unable to help herself, she turned her head to glance over her shoulder at Draco, and found that he was looking at her too, his head bent slightly forward as if he'd been in the middle of leaning over her shoulder when she'd suddenly turned, and now his face was mere inches from her own. She froze in place, lips parting as she startled.
They were so close, inches, centimetres really, between them. Moonlight haloed Draco's fine blond hair, his pale skin silvered in the night. His grey eyes were dark, stars reflected back at her as if he contained the universe within his gaze, and his lips were parted as if he were about to say something but the wind had stolen his words away. Hermione's own eyes found themselves unable to move away from Draco's face, running her gaze over his features as if memorizing them. Aristocratic eyebrows beneath gently drifting blond locks, sharp cheekbones that at once made him appear cold and calculating and yet also regal and handsome, and a mouth that had once been so cruel and had now, over recent months, become so gentle…
Her heart started to beat faster, she could feel it resonate against her hands, pressed against her chest as they were, and it took everything inside her to turn her face away. Oh god, what was she thinking? Draco had never indicated that his feelings for her were more than friendship. Sure, he teased her, but then so did a lot of people, Harry, and Ron, and all his brothers included. The urge to run surged up inside her, but there was nowhere to go unless she suddenly grew wings and launched herself into the night. The thought was not dismissed as quickly as it might have been had she been on the ground, and for one wild moment Hermione considered reaching for her wand.
Behind her came Draco's voice, his hands still clasped over hers while he guided the broom through the sky, moving them across the expanse of the lake below. "It makes me think of Byron," he said conversationally, as if he hadn't noticed her reaction at all. She was definitely overthinking things. "She walks in beauty, like the night. Of cloudless climes and starry skies; and all that's best of dark and bright, meet in her aspect and her eyes. Thus mellowed to that tender light, which heaven to gaudy day denies," he quoted, as the broom glided through the night.
They were low enough now that Hermione could hear the waves below, gently lapping at the lake's edge, and she concentrated on them as she tried to work through Draco's random expression of poetry. He'd just quoted Lord Byron, one of the literary romantics, what was she supposed to say in response to that? She was both seized by an urge to ask him why he'd done so and frozen in panic that she'd somehow make the night weird if she was reading too much into a simple comment. In the end she said nothing, trying to act like everything was perfectly normal.
"I've always liked the night," Draco went on after a pause, gathering the thread of the conversation where she'd failed to pick it up. "It's so often given a bad reputation, all the ghouls and ghosts and wee little beasties out to wreck havoc, but it's not all danger and death and dark lords."
Hermione glanced quickly back over her shoulder at Draco, feeling a little calmer now that he had moved away from poetry. He was like the night, really, cloaked in fear and danger, but underneath mysterious and mystical and… romantic. Her feelings for the boy on the broom behind her were very real, swirling strongly within her, but so was uncertainty and fear of losing the new Draco that had appeared this year. "I like the night, too," she said at last, managing a real smile. He may not know precisely what she meant by her words, but that was ok. "Thanks for taking me up," she added a little shyly, her smile faltering when the look Draco was giving her felt a little more intense than she had been expecting. "The meteor shower was spectacular so close up," she hurried on, ducking her head a little under his strong gaze. "For one brief moment I felt like there was no one in the world but us—" She broke off abruptly, not having meant for that sentence to end up where it had.
Draco's lips quirked up at one end, but he didn't say anything, seeming to enjoy her flustering. "Ready to head back down?" he said after a moment, somehow steering the broom with his thighs, a move he must have mastered on the Quidditch pitch while trying to catch the Snitch.
"Alright," she answered, a little off-balance at his response, since he'd not even teased her for her comment just then—and then clutched at Draco's arms when he angled the broom steeply downward and she felt herself slide forward along the handle. "Draco!"
He tightened his hold around her, securing her against his chest as they dived downwards, his rich, warm laughter ringing in her ears.
xXx
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