Chapter Eight: Love and Hate.
Hermione yawned widely, blinking at the dying embers of the fire. She had a book in her lap—nothing unusual—and a blanket over her shoulders. It took her a moment to realize that she was in the common room. Shaking her head to clear it, she looked around for William.
He was sitting in a chair opposite her in a position similar to hers, with a book open in his lap. He was slumped over to one side, chin on his fist, fast asleep. He'd unbound his hair, and it spilled like oil over his shoulders and down onto the pages of the book.
Hermione could have sat like that for hours, just watching him sleep, his shoulders moving in shallow breath; however she realized suddenly that it was morning. Still quite early, for the common room was empty except for them, but she'd promised Harry that she'd go to watch his Quidditch match at eleven that morning. She stood up quickly, forgetting the book in her lap. It slid to the floor and slammed shut, causing William to sit up with a start, bleary-eyed.
"We've got to stop meeting like this," Hermione said, embarrassed.
William rubbed his eyes and pushed his hair away from his face. Even these simple gestures were graceful and perfect. "Morning already?" He yawned. "I shouldn't have fallen asleep…"
"We're just lucky no one saw us down here," Hermione giggled nervously, having retrieved her book. "There's no telling what they'd say…"
"No telling," William agreed distractedly. He was braiding his hair with quick efficiency. "I am starving. Let's go to breakfast."
Hermione was so shocked that he'd asked her, and in such a hurry to agree, that she almost went to the Great Hall with him in only her nightdress. William waited for her with a ghost of a smile on his face as she ran upstairs to change.
**
Harry burst into the Great Hall, holding his Quidditch robes under one arm and panting. "I'm sorry," he gasped to the Gryffindor team, who'd assembled for breakfast before their match. "I overslept—"
"That's all right," Wood said cheerfully, pouring himself a glass of orange juice. "I don't think we'll be needing you today anyway."
"Oh," Harry nodded, sitting down. "Well that's—what?"
Wood downed his orange juice and smiled at Harry. "I thought you'd be needing a break, so we've got ourselves a new seeker. You'll only have to play reserve."
Harry stared at Wood, unable to say anything, his mouth hanging open. He next voice he heard made his blood freeze in his veins. "You look like a fish out of water with your mouth hanging open like that."
Slowly, dreading what he knew was there, Harry turned in the direction of the speaker. Kai was sitting between Fred and George Weasley, picking daintily at his food. There was a broomstick leaning against the back of his chair, gleaming with new polish. Written in gold letters along the handle were the words Faster Than Yours.
"You…" Harry began. His throat had gone dry. Swallowing, he tried again. "You took on… Kai… as our new seeker?"
"He's got talent, and he's a genius at strategy," Wood said excitedly. "And he's fast as the south wind on that broom of his. It's a Japanese import—fastest broom on the market."
Harry felt a knot form in his stomach. "You can't replace me," he said lowly. "You just… can't."
"I didn't want to, but…" Wood spread his hands and shrugged. "What with all the accidents that happened last year, and the year before that… You're a good player, Harry, you really are, but it's just not worth it to risk the cup every year because you've got half the world after you all the time."
Kai cleared his throat. "Wood hasn't gotten the chance to order me any Quidditch robes," he said timidly. "So, if you wouldn't mind, Harry…"
"Just until he gets his own, Harry, there's a good sport," Wood smiled, reaching across the table and taking Harry's bundled up robes. "Don't let it get you down. You're still reserve!"
Harry stood up very quickly, knocking his chair over in the process. He stared at Wood, and at the rest of the team, but he couldn't really see them. All he could see was Kai, smiling at him sympathetically. "I'll tell you how it goes, Harry," he offered, just as Harry stormed out of the Hall.
((I know this chapter's kinda short, and I'll probably extend it later. But right now I'm cold and wet and my socks are soggy and I need reviews to make it better. Update time!))