CHAPTER 21

September 22nd 2001

Hermione Granger took a deep breath before she walked onto the Hogwarts quidditch pitch field, having to mentally prepare herself for the aftereffects of Ron's match loss. As heroic and goofy that man was, he had the tendency to be hot headed over small inconveniences. Losing a quidditch match to his best friend and former nemesis was definitely a situation the wizard would take to heart, and his witch did not look forward to the fallout.

The crowd ranging from Hogwarts students to ministry employees still hollered and cheered for The Politicians victory. The team's star Seeker, Harry Potter, would always be the golden boy of the public, and his impeccable leadership skills never seemed to fail him or the people of Britain. This win would easily earn him another year's worth of favour, wherever he went.

The Professionals were not so happy over their continued loss. If their captain had not decided to play illegal tricks, they may have still had a chance to redeem themselves. Alas, from such events it was expected that Ron Weasley would go down in the public's eye. His fiance was not looking forward to dealing with the press after this weekend.

As Hermione strode onto the pitch's cleanly cut grass, she could see in the corner of her eye that Malfoy and Astoria continued to embrace in the centre of the field. The public display of affection made Hermione want to be sick, it was very indecent of them to be so touchy in front of a large crowd. Photographers did not agree as such, flashing their cameras at the couple, excited to get a fresh slice of gossip for the Daily Prophet. Malfoy being the star of the game was one story, but a new relationship added to the mix must have been intoxicating for the slimy reporters.

Hermione pouted sympathetically to her fiance as she approached the redhead amongst the chaos of players. His head hung low, disappointed in himself for working so hard only to be let down. She wrapped her arms around his sweaty body, allowing him to nuzzle into the crook of her neck as she rubbed his damp back up and down.

"That was bloody embarrassing, 'Mione." Ron mumbled into her.

"I'm sure it was not as bad as you think it was." Hermione soothed.

The wizard groaned into his witch. Hermione pulled him up off her shoulder and cupped his face, kissing him gently on the lips. His face was wet and hot against hers, and she could taste the salt in his sweaty upper mouth.

"It's just a silly quidditch game between friends." She encouraged.

"I shouldn't have told you to invite Malfoy." Ron laughed lowly. "Should've known that bastard would've been too good to be true. Absolute prat."

They both chuckled.

Hermione turned from her fiance to look over at Malfoy across the field. He was already looking over at her. For a moment it felt like it was just the two of them in the entire stadium, staring at one another from a distance. Two friends with aching hearts.

The witch shook her head and smirked at the wizard, teasing him with unspoken words over his underdog win. Malfoy gave a small painful bow in return, smiling at her with his teeth showing. It felt good to let go of the tension. Two friends with glowing hearts.

"Ron! Hermione!" A reporter yelled, approaching the couple, breaking her focus on Malfoy. "How do you feel about the loss? Some pretty risque moves out there, Weasley. Not scared it will taint your professional quidditch career?"

Hermione sighed, annoyed at the Prophet's constant need to publicise their lives.

"We don't wish to comment." She spoke on behalf of them both.

"Young witches and wizards around Britain are looking up to you, Weasley. Care to share with them the reasoning behind your illegal outburst?" The reporter continued to push.

"Ignore them." Hermione whispered to Ron.

"It's okay, I can handle it." He kissed her cheek, puffing his chest to the reporter. "Look, I made a mistake. Pretty clear that even when you pull stupid moves like I did, the good guy will always win."

"Are you calling Draco Malfoy a good guy?" A camera flashed, taking the couples picture.

"Malfoy deserved to win today. He was in a position he wasn't used to, and still managed to make me look like a fool. Gotta give the bloke credit." Ron replied.

Hermione was shocked at his humility, was this all for the press or was it his genuine opinion?

Ron steered her to face away from the cameras, slinging his arm around her neck as they walked over to talk to their friend, Harry. She could smell his overbearing body odour, and held her breath to stop herself from inhaling it.

"Pretty good turn out, don't ya think?" Harry smiled, hands on his hips.

"Biggest one yet, I reckon." Ron agreed, dropping his arm away. She exhaled silently, breathing in fresh air.

"What are you gonna do to celebrate?" Hermione asked in an attempt to ignore the wizard whispering in his girlfriend's ear a few metres away.

"I think we might head down to the Leaky Cauldron for a butterbeer. Your team's welcome, Ron. We would love to shout you a consolation drink."

"Piss off." The red-head grumbled, punching his friend in the shoulder.

After some time, the crowds and reporters had faded, leaving only the players and their respective partners on the pitch. Hermione could not take her eyes off of Malfoy and Astoria. The couple was quite playful with each other, and it was very annoying. It was mainly her that was all over him, but Malfoy did not look entirely pissed off with the effort.

"Hey, why don't I take you for a little fly?" Ron interrupted her thoughts.

"What?" She snapped, looking at her fiance in confusion. "No, thank you. I don't like flying."

"Come on, 'Mione. It'll be fun, promise." He pulled her elbow to an open space on the grass, his broom in the other hand. Hermione tugged at his grip, trying to escape.

"Ronald, I said no!" She grunted, a little loud. The other players turned their heads in attention.

"Don't be dull." He insisted, picking her small frame up and propping her onto the stick of the broom. Jumping on behind her.

"Ron!" Hermione shrieked, her heart beating a million miles an hour in fear.

Before she could turn around and slap her fiance, he took off from the ground. Her hands gripped the broom so tight her knuckles turned white. She had not flown since The Battle of Hogwarts, and the height was daunting.

"Ron! Take us down!" She yelled, tears welling in her eyes from the wind and freight.

"We're fine, 'Mione! You've done this before." Ron laughed, making her feel even worse.

The witch looked down and saw the group of people on the ground, her vision getting hazy and seeing two. She clenched her eyes shut, not wanting to know how far up they were getting.

Hermione was frustrated. She was not someone who got scared over flying, she had flown on a dragon and thestrals for crying out loud. Ron should have listened to her when she said she did not want to be up there. This was mortifying.

"Please take me down! Now!" Hermione demanded, angression clear in her voice.

"Alright, alright!" Ron surrendered, turning the broom to bring them closer to the ground.

When they reached a few metres off the grass, Hermione jumped off the broom prematurely, not catching her fall and landing on her hands and knees. Pain shot through her limbs, black dots spotting her eyesight.

Someone bent down in front of her, and put their hands on her shoulders. Hermione lifted her head up to see Malfoy looking down on her with concern. His eyebrows were furrowed, anger fierce in his silver orbs.

"Are you alright?" He asked gently, squeezing the sides of her arms.

She nodded, still not able to see properly.

"What the fuck were you thinking, Weasley?!" Malfoy stood on his feet, barking at the red-head. "Did you not not hear her scream at you!"

"Piss off, Malfoy!" Ron yelled back. "Where do you get off telling me what I can and cannot do with my fiance."

The Slytherin marched over to the Gryffindor, scrunching up his uniform at the chest and bringing their faces close together.

"I couldn't give a fuck if she is your fiance or not. You could have killed her." Malfoy spat through gritted teeth. His arms bludging at the seams of his baby blue shirt, with veins sticking out as well as at his neck.

"Let me go, you fucking wanker!" Ron tried to pull him off but failed, instead using the upper hand of free range to punch Malfoy across the jaw.

"Ron!" Hermione shouted, stumbling to get off the ground.

Malfoy lost his grip on Ron's shirt, staggering backwards, cursing as he regained his balance. The Slytherin spat blood out of his mouth, before charging at the Gryffindor and taking them both to the ground. Hermione gasped, grabbing the person closest to help her stand.

Ron swung his arms at the wizard, hitting him again on the other side of the face. Malfoy grunted and slammed his fist into his opponent's cheek twice. Both of their skin ripping open and drawing blood. Hermione looked around at the other people on the field, none of them were going to stop the fight. They all just watched in amazement.

Taking matters into her own hands, she ran over to the men punching one another.

"Stop it!" She urged. "This is idiotic!"

Ron rolled Malfoy so that he lay flat on the ground, pulling his arm back and striking his fist only to hit the grass below thanks to the blond's quick reflexes.

"Fuck!" He roared in pain.

Hermione grabbed her fiance under his arms and tried to tug him back, but she was not strong enough. The two men continued to throw their hands. Harry ran over and lent a hand pulling the red-head away from the brawl. Ron resisted, trying to break free from his friend's arms that wrapped around his torso.

"Enough!" Harry bellowed. "That's enough!"

Hermione stood in front of her fiance and gripped his wrists, his chest heaving up and down trying to catch its breath. Ron already had bruises forming under his eye sockets and blood mixed with sweat rolling down his cheeks. He had copped numerous cuts from Malfoy's blow.

"Ronald. It's over."

The red-head yanked his arms free from hers and Harry's grasp, storming off the field into his team's tent under the open-aired stairs. Curses spat along his stride.

Hermione quickly turned to face Malfoy who was still on the ground. She glared at him with so much anger she thought she was going to burst. He was leaning on his elbows, a cut had torn his lip and his left eye was so swollen it could not stay open.

"Why did you do that?!" She yelled at the man on the ground.

"Prick deserved it." Malfoy spat, wincing as he tried to sit up. Hermione had forgotten that he had nearly broken his ribs earlier in the game. No wonder he wanted to punch Ron in the face.

"I do not need you to fight my battles." Hermione hissed.

Harry helped the blond to his feet, a groan escaping his mouth on the tug. Malfoy limped over to her with a hand on his ribcage, still smelling like his vanilla and cinnamon soap despite the hours of flying and fighting. Hermione held her breath when he got so close she could see the definition of the dried blood on his cheeks, nervous he would try and pull something in front of all the other players. Instead, he stepped to the side and walked behind her.

She exhaled, a little disappointed in his lack of response.

Hermione turned back around to see Malfoy make his way to Astoria as she put her palms on his face and whispered something only he could hear. He kissed his girlfriend gently, clenching his eyes shut in pain at how far he had to bend down.

The witch couldn't bear to watch anymore, so she ran over to the tent where Ron was hiding. Opening the thick curtains, Hermione was met with the sight of her fiance sitting on a bench with his head in his hands. She sighed and slowly walked over to him.

"Are you okay?" She whispered, not wanting to startle him. Ron lifted his head up with an apologetic expression spread across his face.

"I'm such a bloody tosser." He groaned, pulling her closer by her hands. Hermione ran her hands through his red hair, stroking them as she stood in between his legs.

"You know I don't like flying."

"I know, I'm sorry, 'Mione. I just wanted to have some fun after a shit game." He looked up at her from his seated position, eyes burdened with guilt.

Hermione held his face in her hands, looking over all of his injuries, grateful that none of them were deep enough for serious medical attention. She grabbed her wand out of the back of her jean pocket and wet a cloth that was next to the red-head on the bench. Folding the damp fabric into fours, she began to dab at the blood on her fiance's skin.

Draco Malfoy did not mean to jump Weasley, but something angry just came over him. Granger was not the type of woman to be frightened by much, so something must have triggered her to leap off the broom so quickly. Seeing her up in the air with so much fear in her eyes made him think of that night at Malfoy Manor where his aunt tortured her until she nearly passed out. Punching the red-head several times was probably an overreaction, but to be fair, he did throw a bludger at Draco's ribs mid game and it was a long time coming anyway.

However, he was grateful that he had brought Astoria along to the event. Having to watch Granger comfort and support her fiance would have been excruciatingly painful if he did not have someone else clinging at his side. The physical affection was a mild substitute for whom he was truly craving.

Draco lifted the rival team's curtain with his unbruised hand, quietly stepping into the tent without being heard. With one good eye and a damaged right, he saw Granger standing in between Weasley's legs, cleaning the blood off his broken skin with gentle hands. Her index finger traced down the bridge of his nose, and he smiled up at her.

He felt a lump in the back of his throat. Looking at the couple in an intimate situation like this made his skin itchy, and his head throbbed at the beat of his heart.

It was clear that they did not know Draco had entered the tent, so he cleared his throat to change that. Both of their heads flicked over to where he was standing.

"I'm not here to cause shit." Draco threw his hands up in surrender. "I just wanted to talk it out."

"You're not one to apologise." Weasley grunted.

"Who said anything about apologising?" He retaliated, a small grin peaking through.

Draco glanced his eyes to Granger, already staring at him from across the room. She gave him the impression that she did not want to be a part of this conversation and stepped away from her fiance, kissing him on the forehead before leaving the room. Their arms brushed as she walked past him to exit the tent. A shiver was sent down his spine.

He limped over and took a seat on the bench opposite of Weasley, leaning his forearms on his knees, and intertwining his fingers together.

"Are you gonna start this or am I?" The Gryffindor whined.

The Slytherin rolled his eyes.

"Don't lie to me, Weasley. Did you fucking invite me here today with the idea of throwing a bludger at my ribs?"

"Don't be bloody daft." Weasley scoffed.

"Don't fuck with me." He spat back, looking up from under his eyes at the freckled prick.

"No." The redhead snapped his confession. "I invited you thinkin' Harry would've put you as Seeker and you'd fuck it up."

Draco clenched his jaw.

"Care to share with the class as to why you really tried and throw me off my broom?"

"I don't know…" He breathed. "You're an entitled prat. Do I need any more reason?"

Draco simply glared at him from a swollen eye. Keeping it open was agony, but he refused to let the twat know how good of a punch he was.

"Look mate. I am sorry. I know you and 'Mione are friends and all so it was shitty of me to hurt you like that." Weasley apologised.

"Apology accepted, and for what it's worth, I shouldn't have come at you for taking Granger on your broom. I was out of place."

The half hearted expression of regret pained Draco to say. Never in his life did he think he would ever be having a civil conversation with the ginger. What the fuck was Granger doing to him?

"I should be thanking you really." Weasley chuckled. "Since you and 'Mione have been working together, she doesn't 'blah blah blah' as much to me. Least she has you to draw on about whatever new passion project she has before she comes home."

Draco kept a straight face, doing his best to hold back from the twat. Who the fuck says that about their fiance? Weasley sensed the joke had bombed and coughed to cover up his embarrassment.

"So… How did you and that Greengrass girl get together?" The freckled wizard tried to make casual conversation.

"We're not doing that, Weasley."

"Y-yeah. Right, right."

Draco sat up from his leant position, a stabbing sensation scraping against his ribcage as he did so.

"Good talk." He groaned, giving the red-head his hand.

Weasley accepted the truce, firmly gripping his palm with a steady three-stroke shake.

"You can come back in now, Granger!" Draco yelled out once they let go.

A guilty faced witch lifted the curtain and walked back into the tent. Draco did not doubt for a second that she would have stayed and tried to listen to their conversation. It was the main reason why he did not react to Weasley's idoitic comment on her talking habits.

"How did you know I was listening?" She mumbled, cheeks flushed from being caught out.

"You're not that hard to read." He replied sarcastically.

Draco walked over to exit the tent but stopped just as he reached her. Their shoulders met, but she kept her eyes forward on Weasley. Looking down at Granger from his higher stance, he scanned her face, searching for an answer he knew she wouldn't give him.

"I know you can fight your own battles, Granger." He whispered, "But I like standing up for you."

Draco could see her eyes were welling, but before she let another man make her cry, she blinked and walked back to her fiance. Curse that woman for being so stubborn.

He slowly limped out of the tent, the glaring sun burning his eyes as he reentered the pitch. Harry Potter stood a few metres away, arms crossed at the chest.

"I don't want to hear it, Potter." Draco growled.

"You did the right thing, Malfoy." The black haired wizard surprised him. "I can see why Hermione talks highly of you nowadays."

The blond nodded, dying to get out of this stupid place full of sentimental Gryffindors and heal his ribs. Granger praising him made the pain ease a little though.

"Next year I'm playing Seeker." Draco smirked at his former arch nemesis. Potter simply threw his head back in laughter and walked into the tent behind him. Patting his shoulder gently on the way past.

He spotted Astoria Greengrass from across the pitch, her head tilted with her hands on her hips and foot tapping with impatience. Draco dragged himself over to his date, wincing with every step.

"Hello darling. How are you?" He grunted angrily through his teeth.

"Did Miss Granger give you a thank you kiss as a token of her appreciation?"

"Drop it." He said with force. "I am not doing this for her."

"You may not be dating me for her. But any fool could tell you punched her fiance for her."

"Let's just get out of here."

Astoria threw Draco's arm around her neck and helped him walk out of the quidditch pitch. As they climbed the steep grass hills, he wondered how long Granger had started to become an inconvenience to Weasley. She was annoying, there was no denying, but what kind of marriage were they walking into if the redhead thought about her the way that he spoke to Draco?