Disclaimer: I don't have a Lego statue modelled after me :( then again that might be a little disturbing...so therefore the rights to Harry Potter belong to the one who really has a Lego bust - Ms Rowling.
The stadium was crowded with waving flags, scarves, hats, bursting with the four bright colours of each house, and with the exuberant energy of teenagers. Zipping around the pitch, penetrating through the cheers and boos of the crowd, were the Quidditch players from both the Gryffindor and Slytherin Houses. It was the first Quidditch match of the season, and everyone was cheering to their hearts' content.
Hermione waved her maroon and gold scarf embroidered with the words "GRYFFINDOR" enthusiastically as Harry zipped past the Gryffindor stands, sending all into wild cheers. The next player to follow was Corrinne, who had successfully auditioned to be Chaser, and Parvati and Lavender screamed excitedly. Ginny was the third one to fly by, and she gave the crowd a wink, and the girls in particularly squealed with delight and cheered loudly. Guaranteed, the girls were not absolutely into Quidditch (especially Hermione), but when your friends were on the pitch, one couldn't help being drawn into the ecstatic mood. Ron, visibly thrilled at finally making the team as Keeper for this season, was hovering near the rings, attempting to do acrobatic flips and stretching his limbs, though after a while, he was having some difficulty stabilising himself back onto the broom, his face just as red as the Gryffindor colours he was wearing.
"Match will begin in five minutes' time! We are going to see an extremely fascinating match between Gryffindor and Slytherin, the houses with a great rivalry spanning decades..."
The microphone was abruptly cut off, and then as Hermione turned to see who the commentator was, a very bright red Susan Bones was muttering, "I mean, with a great healthy rivalry, being the top two houses in Quidditch last term...", with a rather annoyed Professor McGonagall standing by the side.
Hermione turned her eyes upwards to see the first of the Slytherin players, a peaked Blaise Zabini, but with a devious smirk on his face, as he zipped past the booing Gryffindor students and pretended to head straight towards Ron. Ron was alarmed and nearly fell off his broom, but Blaise took a sharp turn and waved mockingly at a furious Ron, who held on to his broom tighter than ever.
After a few more green cloaks, Hermione saw Draco Malfoy sail past effortlessly, his blond hair more striking than ever, and his stony eyes harder than usual. He had insisted on playing despite landing in the Hospital Wing yesterday, much to Madam Pomfrey's chagrin. For a second, his eyes landed upon hers, and Hermione let out a soft gasp, for his gaze seemed to penetrate her and gnaw at her. Then he shot up straight into the air, his green cloak billowing, and Hermione felt herself irresistibly drawn to watching his every move.
PHWEEE! Madam Hooch's whistle blew sharply, and the Quaffle was thrown up into the air. Sharp-eyed Corrinne dashed straight at it before Blaise could get at it, eliciting a roar of anger from the Slytherin player, as the lithe Gryffindor girl niftily dodged his grasp and the other Slytherin players. Just as the Beaters launched a Bludger towards her, she deftly passed the Quaffle to Katie Bell on her left, and banked a sharp right to avoid the bomb of a Bludger. Katie winged past a cursing Beater and launched the Quaffle straight at the top ring, and it looked almost certain that the Slytherin Keeper Michael Shetridge would catch it comfortably... only for Ginny Weasley to speed through the stunned Slytherins and loop the Quaffle over the unsuspecting Shetridge, knocking it straight through the ring, and sending the Gryffindor crowd into a wild, raucous cheer.
"TEN POINTS TO GRYFFINDOR! Ginny Weasley has intercepted the Quaffle to beat Shetridge for the first goal of the season. Now it remains to be seen whether her brother, on the other end of the pitch, will manage to pull off any spectacular saves for his first match of the season..."
The next ball that went up – Corrinne was no match for a vengeful Blaise, who sped at it like a bullet and threw it immediately at his fellow Chaser. Katie and Ginny tried to intercept the passes, but the powerful throws and sly curves at which the Quaffle was thrown made it an impossible feat, and it was not long before Ron was beaten at the rings, his red face turning a deeper shade of crimson as the Slytherin crowd shrieked with joy and the Gryffindors' faces turned glum. The other houses applauded politely, but half of them were glancing in Ron's direction and looking disapproving. Hermione felt sorry for her friend, because he must have badly anticipated making his first save of the day, especially for the first on-target shot of the opposing team.
As the Quaffle was thrown around the pitch and through goal hoops, with dangerous Bludgers zipping around, Hermione looked upwards to see Harry and Draco shifting uneasily on their brooms as they scanned the pitch for the tiny, fluttering Snitch. It seemed that Harry had spotted it first; suddenly, there was a blur where Harry had been, and immediately, Draco gave chase. Hermione's heart leapt as she saw the two figures converge onto a spot in the middle of the pitch, where a Bludger was rocketing towards...
There was a sudden scuffle in the middle of the pitch; Harry and Draco had broken free of the ruckus and were heading to another corner at lightning speed, but Hermione's attention was pulled back to the centre where Madam Hooch had sped towards with a couple of Quidditch paramedics carrying a stretcher. It seemed that one of the Slytherin players was being stretchered off, while a new green-cloaked player was getting ready at the stands.
"Slytherin House has unfortunately lost one of their star players to the Bludger Bazooka – Blaise Zabini has suffered massive impact and will be replaced by Victor Hanselhurst..."
Hermione saw Corrinne smirk a little at the rest of the Gryffindor team, while Ginny looked rather cross. Then Hermione looked up and saw Draco and Harry still speeding around the stadium – Harry's expression was full of concentration and determination, his eyes locked onto the fluttering ball that was happily skipping out of his way, but it was Draco's deadly expression that scared Hermione – his face was as black as thunder, as his gaze flickered towards the ground where Blaise Zabini was moaning on his stretcher, and then the gaze landed upon Hermione once again as he flew past the Gryffindor stands...
"MALFOY, GET THAT BLOODY SNITCH!" A roar rose up from the Slytherin crowd, and the fire in Draco's chest flared – his attention was snapped back to reality as he concentrated on the golden Snitch that was fluttering near one of the goal rings on the Slytherin side. Suddenly, he pulled back and waited as Harry unsuspectingly chased after the Snitch. Leaning towards his left as Harry zipped to the right, he watched as the Snitch hesitated, before slipping out of Harry's grasp, and speeding towards his direction...
Draco's eyes narrowed as he saw the Snitch coming... he accelerated to meet the Snitch, but it had a better idea and decided to make a sharp descent towards one of the players... Draco and Harry both dove after it... it was hovering just above Corrinne Whitemayer's head as she was poised to receive the Quaffle from Ginny...
Harry banked sharply away from Corrinne, as the Snitch cheekily dodged their outreached hands, but Draco could not brake in time and ended up colliding into Corrinne.
What happened next was quite a blur.
Draco could only feel his carefully crafted blond hair smashing flat against Corrinne's hands which were frantically clawing at him in her desperate bid to stay on her broom; his mind was whirling as he felt something sharp draw across his cool cheek, a stinging pain, a lot of noise, it was altogether very confusing and he felt like he was falling through a dreadful vacuum. It was not long however, before he regained his senses, and he saw a madly furious Corrinne in front of him grabbing onto his collar – and they were fast approaching the ground.
"It looks like Slytherin's Seeker Draco Malfoy and Gryffindor's Chaser Corrinne Whitemayer are in some kind of aerial duel... my, what biceps Malfoy has... sorry, AHHH IT LOOKS LIKE THEY ARE PLUMMETING TO THE GROUND!..."
"MADAM HOOCH, WOULD YOU PLEASE..." Professor McGonagall's urgent pleas cut in through Susan Bones' shrieks.
Draco immediately tried to pry Corrinne's strong fingers off him, gasping as the collar of his cloak was choking him. With a massive effort, he righted himself back onto his broom, effectively jerking Corrinne back onto hers, and somewhat slowed their fall to the ground. Draco landed gracefully, while Corrinne fell awkwardly, and Madam Hooch with her paramedic team came rushing forth once again.
"Such disgraceful behaviour!" Draco could hear Madam Hooch's reproving voice as she waved her wand over Corrinne and Draco like a scanner. "No broken bones, that's for sure, what a relief..."
Overhead, there was a sudden exuberant burst of cheer, breaking over the stadium like a an illuminating spotlight, as Susan Bones' excited chirpy voice squealed, "HARRY POTTER GRABS THE SNITCH ONCE AGAIN – IT'S ONE HUNDRED AND NINETY POINTS TO GRYFFINDOR AGAINST FIFTY FOR SLYTHERIN... GRYFFINDOR WINS!"
The Gryffindor stand erupted in a blazing mix of whoops and cheers and screams, while the Slytherins began to leave the stands miserably, as Harry beat his fist in the air triumphantly while hovering above the stadium. Draco could feel quite a number of his housemates glaring at him as they made their way out, as if pinning all responsibility for the loss onto Draco. Not that it wasn't his fault, Draco knew that if he had been quicker, he would have avoided colliding into Corrinne Whitemayer and nicked the Snitch out of Harry's grasp.
He had other things to worry about however, when Corrinne broke free of the paramedic's firm grip and was lunging towards him... Draco took a step back, and Corrinne was once again restrained by the paramedics, with Madam Hooch barking angrily at her – her red eyes flashed with a vengeance, and Draco could feel them boring into him like gimlets. She was clearly not going to let the matter rest. He broke out of his trance at staring into Corrinne's eyes while she was hustled off, when Madam Hooch came face-to-face with him and scowled.
"I don't appreciate such behaviour on the pitch, Mr Malfoy, I expect that a seasoned player like you should not be getting into scuffles and aerial battles, it is highly unbecoming – much less that you are a prefect and vice-captain of your Quidditch team. You are highly lucky to escape unscathed, whilst Ms Whitemayer has to be attended to with some scrapes. Please do not let this unfortunate event occur again!"
With that, Madam Hooch turned and left. Draco felt there was no point in arguing, but his face darkened as he thought of Blaise being stretchered off as well. He stood there, rock-solid on the spot for a long while, till the stadium was empty and quiet. Then he turned and made to go back to the lockers, so that he could pack up and check on Blaise at the Hospital Wing. I'll have to make sure that spitfire isn't around there... how dare she lead Blaise into being knocked off by that bloody Bludger! He thought of Corrinne's red eyes again and felt a familiar surge of anger and pain rise up in him – anger with the thought of her smirk after Blaise fell off his broom, the way she insulted his father, and pain with the Dark Mark aching once again.
Immediately, all thought of Quidditch action faded from his mind, as the pain in his arm intensified. He needed to act fast, or else the Dark Lord would act before him.
He stopped short.
Standing in his way, by the side of the stadium wall, was that familiar head of brown curls. Draco groaned inwardly. Not again!
"Are... are you okay?" the tentative voice asked.
"Get lost, Granger."
Hermione frowned. "Stop asking me to get lost. You could have broken your bones with that tussle!"
"And why would you care?" Draco sneered, advancing towards her such that she gulped and backed away. "Why would you care, since I'm such a proud jerk according to you, you snivelling little Mudblood?"
Hermione felt like she was about to explode, but she swallowed hard. "I'm not here to engage in a battle of words with you. If you're just going to stick to using that derogatory word, you're not a worthy adversary at all."
"Then you should just scram. I don't find you worthy either, especially since you're a Mudblood, so stop wasting my time and leave. Go celebrate with Mighty Potter and comfort Weasel about his fumbled save!"
Hermione tried to remain as calm as possible. She remembered the gleaming eyes that connected with hers during the match. Hard. But yet... not cold... she had been startled to realise that. It had always been cold... till then...
"I – I just wanted to tell you something," she said at last.
Draco glared at her impatiently. He couldn't think of anything that little eavesdropper could possibly have to tell him about. "Some insults? Save that for your worthy adversary, Granger. I couldn't be bothered." He proceeded to stalk off.
"I know who Maldash Wentervale is."
Draco stopped walking and snickered. "And so? Not too bad, Granger, you've managed to stick your nose out of your books for once."
Hermione flushed a deep red. "Ginny told me nobody dares to publish his name in books for fear of V-Voldemort killing them." Draco suddenly felt a little impressed that she dared to use the Dark Lord's name. "So, the wizarding families all know of him being on the loose of late but dare not speak his name. Ginny knows because Mrs Weasley warned her children to beware of this man. And – and I don't know because they were not allowed to talk about Wentervale in Hogwarts..." She drew a deep breath. "Because of you."
"So why are you talking to me about him?" asked Draco, his silky voice returning as he eyed Hermione. "You really aren't afraid, are you? I threatened to kill you, and here you are talking about the Dark Lord's nemesis in front of the Death-Eaters' newest recruit, the one eager for glory, to to take over his father's position as one of the most revered Death-Eaters. You are Potter's best friend, I could easily give you up to the Dark Lord and trap Potter into making a cruel decision to give you up or give himself up."
Draco's words stung badly, but Hermione fought off the gnawing fear in her heart to reply as coolly as possible. "If you did, you would give me up now. And don't say it's because you're in Hogwarts so obviously you're not taking action. You're blowing up this whole Death Eater thing yourself. You made Harry believe that you are plotting to kill someone, didn't you?"
Draco was stunned. "What?"
"Yesterday at the Hospital Wing you were so angry that I eavesdropped because you thought it was impossible. You thought with Professor Snape's skills he could ensure that nobody was listening. But you didn't know I had learnt Occlumency, so I blocked Professor Snape from accessing my mind, and he had no idea I was in listening distance. Clearly, he would have guessed Harry was listening that night you were in Professor Snape's office, because Harry had made no attempt to practice Occlumency while listening."
Draco couldn't stop being impressed with Hermione. Her quick-thinking had hit everything spot on. Yet at the same time, he was incensed at how she had broken everything down into bits and pieces.
"And how do you know I'm not really plotting to kill someone?"
"That's irrelevant at this point in time, you're not ready for it," shot back Hermione. "The point is you wanted Harry to know that. You want us to be on our guard against you. You're telling me all these things about giving me up to the Dark Lord to threaten Harry, but you won't do it. That's irrelevant to your goal, Malfoy."
Draco couldn't believe his ears; he swung back and advanced upon Hermione again. But she did not retreat. When he was standing just right in front of her, his eyes blazing, he whispered,
"What is my goal, pray tell me, Granger. Tell me what's my goal."
Hermione closed her eyes. "You want to take revenge for your father."
There was a cold silence.
Then Draco threw back his head and laughed. His harsh laughter rang around the empty stadium, almost deafening Hermione. She cringed. It was not a very nice laughter at all.
"Revenge? You said I'm not ready to kill. What revenge, my dear Granger? I told you I'm not killing you because I don't murder for the fun of it. But it doesn't mean I'm not ready to do so if you're in my way. I made it very clear yesterday. It seems to me that you don't really understand this logic."
She just stared at him queerly. Draco suddenly felt a wave of uneasiness sweep across him as those chestnut eyes stared fixatedly, and he looked away uncomfortably.
"Yeah I don't, Malfoy, I really don't understand. Why do you want to do the same thing that killed your father?"
His eyes swung back to meet hers, full of fire and rage. "Don't speak to me about my father like you know anything!"
Hermione defiantly stood her ground. "If I'm preventing you from being a murderer, you'll just go ahead and demonstrate that you are by killing me. And then you'll go on to kill whoever you're supposed to kill. And then you'll kill whoever that gets in your way in the meantime. Draco Malfoy, how different will you be from Voldemort?"
That really cut deep into him. Draco instinctively pulled out his wand as his heartbeat accelerated with fury and pain. Hermione refused to defend herself, just staring straight back at him.
"You know nothing, nothing!" whispered Draco, hollowly, trying to fight down the lump forming in his throat. "So don't act like you do, Granger, even if I don't kill you, I can maim you for life, and you will regret the day you provoked me into doing it!"
"Don't," said Hermione, in as calm a voice she could manage without trembling at the sight of the wand brandished at her nose. "Please."
Please.
Draco felt as if a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped on him. He was trembling, shivering even, his cloak felt like a thin sheet of paper, and the freezing wind was swirling around him unrelentingly. Suddenly, his knees buckled, and he sank to the floor like a ragdoll, speechless, and the arm which was raised earlier to point the wand at Hermione, limp.
Please.
Hermione could hardly believe that the crumpled, blank-looking figure on the snow-covered ground was Draco Malfoy, the newly-inducted Death Eater, nicknamed the Slytherin Prince. His eyes were now vacant, hollow, and he was breathing hard. She fought to gather up her courage to speak.
"Look... I don't know what you and Professor Snape were talking about the other day, I don't know what Maldash Wentervale has got to do with anything, I don't know to what extent Draco Malfoy will go to to achieve his goal or what Voldemort will make him do. But, Malfoy, I know you're not meant to be a murderer, not like the evil creature who murdered your father. So don't be like him."
Draco could feel the air around him constrict, turning Hermione's voice into an echo.
"I don't expect you to trust me, hell, I hate you, Draco Malfoy, for all that you've done to Harry, Ron and I over the last five years – being an insufferable prat, trying to suck up to Umbridge who put us all through torture, trying to instill fear into everyone by making out how dangerous you are this year... but I don't want to hate you for being a murderer. Professor Dumbledore kept you in here, knowing that you are not going to turn out like Tom Riddle. So don't. Take it that I'm begging you."
Granger? Begging him?
"I don't know what's really going on. You're in alone on everything that's going on in your head. All I'm saying is – I'm not going to ask any questions or anything anymore. But – but if you need help, and that means help that doesn't involve me betraying my principles or the people I love, then I will help."
Help? Was this pity again?
"And it's not out of pity. You know I don't give a damn that you may be mourning for your father's death. You'd be sick not to want revenge for the way your father died."
"You know?" Draco finally found his voice, but it was incredulous when he spoke.
Hermione nodded. "Well, the basics. H... I wanted to know, so I asked Professor Dumbledore." She decided it was best not to implicate Harry or Professor McGonagall, because it was likely that the less people who knew the better, but Draco cringed, instantly feeling very vulnerable. "I'm sorry I'm so bloody inquisitive, but I'm just not going to sit around and watch as a dangerous person lurks in the halls of Hogwarts, waiting to pounce at any opportune moment." She felt a stab at her conscience for sounding so morally upright and heroic. "And I'm not going to watch you faint at every patrol duty or something."
"Dumbledore..." Draco growled, still breathing heavily. Coloured dots were exploding before him. No, I can't black out again, not in front of Granger!
"Don't blame him... he wanted to know if I was scared to patrol with you, so with what he said – it sort of allayed my fears."
"Allayed?" Draco glared at her, the coloured dots abruptly dissipating. "With that kind of circumstances in which my father was murdered, you can feel safer? What kind of monstrous being are you, Granger?"
"I'm human!" retorted Hermione. "So I can tell that even though you may be mean, you may be insulting, rude, spiteful, arrogant, the thing is – you're not evil! How can someone who is not inherently evil just obey an evil being's orders, who happens to be his enemy for killing his father, and not find out what were the true circumstances in which your father was killed? I said it once, I say it again, you're too proud for your own good – you're just trying to make yourself out to be this dangerous creature whom everyone should be afraid of just because you've that stupid Mark on your arm. At the same time, you're trying to avenge your father while trying to rise up the ranks of Death Eaters. You're trying to do everything alone, adopt all kinds of personalities and embark on all kinds of missions. That killing that you mentioned is probably a mission, and you'll probably do it just to get under the nose of Voldemort so that you can find out everything about your father's death and avenge him. So now I'm telling you, don't go down the path that led to your father's death. And don't become the monster who killed your father. There are other ways to do it, if only you'd let down your pride and let others help you make decisions you shouldn't be making yourself."
Draco was too exhausted from anger and too shocked from her speech to even reply. Staring at the ground, his mind whirled with a thousand questions. How could Hermione Granger know everything about him with the few insulting exchanges he had had with her? How could she completely understand what he was going through, what he was planning, when he had shared nothing from his head with her? She was – she was terrifying, he suddenly felt with a shudder. The whole cold and dangerous Death Eater mask had been pulled to shreds within minutes of her talk. All that was left was a shaking sixth-year Slytherin student, his bottom soaked and frozen to the bone from sitting in a snow patch.
When he lifted up his head again, his ears ringing from the last few words of Hermione Granger, he realised she was gone. He hadn't even heard her leave, but it was probably because he really couldn't hear anything else except for repeated phrases she had said, his father's voice, Voldemort's voice, Snape's voice, his mother's voice...
Draco gripped his head as he struggled to find his feet.
How different are you from Voldemort? I don't want to hate you for being a murderer. If you need help... then I will help. There are other ways to do it, if only you'd let down your pride and let others help you make decisions you shouldn't be making yourself.
With an anguished howl, Draco sank to his knees again, cradling it, and for the first time in many many years, not even when his father had died, did the tears come rolling down his cheeks, fast and furious, a hollow, heartrending cry – full of pain and rage.