A/N it has been a minute since I've been able to get around to writing! Between a slump and life, I haven't had the inspiration or desire to write, but I finally feel like I'm getting back into it! I have two chapters coming now for this one and I hope everyone enjoys them!

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Snow had started to fall, dusting the students sitting in the stands but ultimately, going unnoticed in the heat of the game.

Hermione had never much cared for quidditch, but when everyone she loved cared for it, she feigned interest. A gesture she wished they would return every once and a while, the bitter part of her mind snapped. She shook the thought off and tried to focus on the match.

Gryffindor vs Slytherin.

One of the first matches of the season, and Ron's first game. She knew he was nervous, and that he had contemplated not playing but, what was their other option? Mclaggen? Hermione had made sure that didn't happen. And Harry, how dare he. He had no business giving Ron a potion to win the game, as pure as his intentions might have been, he could be expelled or banned from the rest of the quidditch season. If someone found—.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Seamus, "Mione, how much do you want to bet Harry's going to kick Malfoys a—"

A cheer erupted around them as Gryffindor scored their first goal.

"10 points to Gryffindor, they really know how to get under Slytherin's skin, guess it's no surprise they have to resort to playing dirty," Lee Jordan remarked, before getting cut off by McGonagall.

Harry swooped lower, closing in on the stands with Draco hot on his trail. To anybody unfamiliar with the game, they might think they were going to crash. Harry, with all his skills and bravery, would never do something so foolish. No, he wanted to scare his opponent into bailing before him. Though Draco was formidable in his own right. A seeker no less skilled than Harry, she doubted it would work on him. She really was going to have to start swatting those thoughts away like flies if she wasn't careful.

Harry never looked at anyone in the stands, never gave himself a chance to balk under the pressure and that was what made him so good. So when those two raced along the underside of the pitch, circling up and back again, their focus placed entirely on the fast little snitch, she allowed herself to watch.

She watched the way the muscles tensed in his neck, the strain of clenching his jaw and squinting against the snow. The way his jersey pulled taut against his body every time he pulled back or pushed forward. His hands, as they gripped his broom, were lithe but strong in their own right.

Green suited him.

Again, they barreled down the stands, and this time, whether, by luck or disaster, gray eyes met hers. The very air seemed to still around her, a single moment that felt like forever, until he broke their stare and careened just barely, over her.

His momentary lapse of focus was all that Harry needed to pull ahead and clasp his fingers around the snitch.

"Harry's got it," Lee's voice rang through the stands, clear and palpable. "Gryffindor wins."

Raucous cheers went up like fireworks, Seamus clapped his hand on her shoulder, and Neville waved one of his flags and it danced across her vision. Everyone was taking this as a sign, heralding another year of Gryffindor wins. The chosen one and the King; some fans chanted for Ron, the rest, for Harry.

She should be happy for them, she was happy, though when she saw Draco land and shake his head, it didn't feel like happiness in her stomach.

——

The common room was alive with music and cheering. People bumped her shoulders and her back as they wove through the maze of bodies. Ginny had snuck off with Dean, and she watched Harry's crestfallen face as he turned to give her a false smile. On the coffee table in the middle of the room, Ron stood triumphant. His fists raised as he screamed and pounded his chest.

"You know, he only feels this good because you cheated," Hermione said, giving Harry a pointed look.

"Oh?" Harry made a contemplative sound, "well I suppose I could have confundused him."

Her head snapped to face him, "I… well.." she was at a loss, how did he know she had done that. "That was different, those were tryouts, not a game."

Harry reached into the pocket of his flannel and pulled out the small bottle he had won from Slughorn.

"You didn't put it in?" She asked, realizing now what he had done. When he shook his head and smiled. "You only made him think you did."

"Hermione, I wouldn't do something like that, especially against Slytherin. They all cheat, we're better than that."

Laughter bubbled up in her chest and she laid her head on Harry's shoulder. "I'm really happy I met you, Harry, I don't know if I say that enough."

His eyes flicked to hers and he kissed the top of her head. "I know."

Loud applause and taunts came from the middle of the room and when she eased off Harry to see what was going on, she felt the air leave her chest. Ron stood, swaying gently in the embrace of Lavender Brown. The pair of them snogged like their lives depended on it, not bothering to take note of the audience they had amassed.

"Excuse me," she mumbled and slipped away before Harry could stop her.

The painted lady tried to stop her as she left but with a watery smile she convinced her, she just needed some air.

"Ah, youth, and all its unpleasantness. I do not envy you, girl."

Hermione wanted to slash the painting apart as Sirius had in the third year.

She ached, but she couldn't figure out why. As she walked she replayed Ron and Lavender's display in her head. She couldn't say she was surprised, it had been on the precipice since tryouts but it still felt… weird. It wasn't even that Hermione liked Ron in that way, she had never felt the pull of romance toward him.

She stepped into a breezy alcove and stopped to catch her breath when a thought struck her.

That wasn't exactly true, no she had hoped he would ask her to the Yule Ball but when that went sideways, so did her feelings. Since then, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't manufacture the feelings she was expected to have for him. She had no claim to his heart, nor did she want one if she was honest.

So why did this hurt?

She drew her wand and crafted small birds from the leaves sweeping the floor. Their bright chirps kept her company and every now and then they did loops, rising then diving low again, playing an endless game of cat and mouse. The longer she watched them, the more they reminded her of today's game.

The surprise in his eyes when they met hers.

When had these thoughts taken root? She couldn't remember when she decided to start caring about how he was, or if he had someone to talk to. The very idea was like ivy growing without abandon inside her skull. He had never given her a reason to care about him, not when all he had ever been was cruel and arrogant. But now the thought of him consumed her every waking minute. If she were as clever as she thought she was, she could probably have guessed it happened sometime before she found him in the room of requirement. Though, that was more insight into herself than she was willing to permit tonight.

Merlin, she needed to stop thinking about Malfoy.

Shoes shuffled down the steps behind her and she sighed. "Harry, I'm not in the mood."

"Good thing I'm not Potter."

Every muscle in her body tensed and the birds' songs fizzled out until there was nothing but tense silence.

"Oh." Was all she could force her mouth to say.

"Not celebrating Gryffindors win like the rest of your house?"

"I just needed some air," she said, standing and moving to the stone railing, keeping her back skillfully to him so he wouldn't see the red that accompanied the heat burning her cheeks.

Like a shadow, he was behind her and around her in an instant. She turned to face him and found him inches from her. Inhaling sharply, she stood rigid. He smirked at her reaction and drew one finger down the side of her cheek. She shuddered and let out a breath.

"You cost me the game today, Granger."

He must have seen her struggling to find the words to defend herself because he huffed a laugh. His breath was warm and tinged with fire whiskey. "You…" he shook his head, "you had to look at me, right when I was getting ready to beat him."

"I… I wasn't looking at you." She said softly, hoping her lie sounded more convincing to him since she sure as hell didn't believe it. "You're drunk Malfoy, go back to your common room before you do something stupid."

He brought his nose close to her neck and traitorously, she tilted her head away, letting him. "I don't think you're stupid," he mumbled.

Hermione opened her mouth too, what, she didn't know. Argue? That felt like the logical option, but she wasn't sure she could be logical right now.

"Malfoy," she breathed, hoping his name would dissuade him, and bring him back to his senses.

"I saw you watching me all game, every time Potter and I got too close, your attention picked up. At first," he purred, bringing his head back up to look into her eyes. "I thought you were watching him and that only made me more intent to beat him. But then I realized," he hummed a noise that threatened to buckle her knees, "you were looking at me."

Electricity shot through her, and she wondered how she had managed to keep breathing. How in Merlin's name had he had time to watch her and Harry and the snitch?

She whimpered as he slid his hand around her waist and held her close. Her response caused him to huff another warm laugh into the sensitive skin on her neck. Goose flesh erupted as he lazily brought his face up to hers, removing the warmth she had just grown accustomed to. As her eyes roved over him, she couldn't pretend she didn't see the appeal; from his disheveled hair, which looked perfectly tousled, to his own flushed face. His eyes looked brighter than they had in weeks, and his skin seemed to have recovered some of its colors. He looked good, even in the dim light. The hazy smile that graced his lips made her wonder what they would taste like if she were bold enough to find out.

"Granger," he whispered her name, sounding more like a prayer than a word, and brushed a wayward curl behind her shoulder.

Who would know? She never had to tell anyone about what transpired here. It could get lost here, stay behind amongst the breeze and the stars. The very thought was dizzying and effervescent. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted more than anything to kiss him, even just once. She reasoned it would be enough to satisfy whatever masochistic curiosity she had developed. She rose into her toes, bringing her face a breath from his. The moment lingered between them, and so slowly it was painful, they moved to close the small space between them.

Thunderous footsteps crashed into the alcove somewhere behind Draco and came to a skittering stop. Awkward silence replaced the simmering tension that had just blinded her and she blinked.

An uncomfortable giggle carried across the room and Hermione wondered if it would be overkill to throw herself over the railing behind her. Of all the people to make their way into this little corner of the castle, it had to be the two people she had come here to get away from.

"Won Won, it looks like someone's already claimed this one," Lavender giggled.

"Malfoy?" Ron asked, his voice like cut stone.

Draco looked at Hermione and she gave the smallest shake of her head. She would have to let him handle this. The last thing she was going to do was make her presence known, given how compromising her position was. His eyes were sad as he cleared his throat, and she was caught off guard by the silent apology.

Without turning his head Draco scoffed, "What do you want, Weasley?"

"What are you doing here?"

Hermione knew that was the wrong thing to ask, and she closed her eyes. Why could Ron never leave things alone?

"Clearly having better luck with women than you. Normally I'd allow your date" he said the word so venomously, even Hermione felt Ron flinch, "to stay and watch, since it would probably be more satisfying than being shackled to you for the evening, but I'm afraid I'm not looking for an audience right now."

Lavender gasped, and Ron cursed him out.

"Now, I would go if I were you unless you want to see what someone looks like when they've been snogged senseless."

She could just make out Lavender's small squeaks of protest as Ron dragged her back up the stairs, leaving them blissfully in silence again.

Draco let out a breath and stepped back from her. His eyes were darker and he bit his lip. "Goodnight Granger."

Without his body to support her, she thought she might collapse.

"Wait…" she tried to right her thoughts, "that's it?"

He rubbed the back of his neck and wouldn't meet her stare. For some reason, this made her angrier than him showing up here and getting her mixed up in all of this. He was going to pretend it didn't even happen, while she never again would get that luxury.

"Look at me," she said as loud as she dared, with the fear of being overheard heavy in her mind.

"I'm drunk," he said quietly, his eyes still not meeting hers, "I should get back before I do something I'll regret."

He nodded once and turned on his heel, taking the stairs two at a time until she was left alone wondering what the hell had just happened.