Chapter Nine

The Race

The autumn weather was noticeable as Hermione stepped outside, the cold, crisp wind nipping at her nose. As she stepped down the stone front steps, she could see the vividly green Quidditch pitch in the corner of her eye, calling out to her. She turned to walk in the direction of the pitch, wondering fiercely what was going to happen when she finally arrived.

He better bring me a decent broom, I'll bet he tries to sabotage me just so he can win and boast to his friends that he beat a Slytherin… He'll probably bring me a bad broom, but say it's great: he thinks I'm a terrible flyer.

Hermione squinted as she came up on the Quidditch pitch. Slowing her pace, as though not to seem too eager, she walked eagerly past the stands, trying to cast a cool and calm impression on the awaiting Gryffindor. Her casual approach would have worked perfectly… If Harry had indeed already been there.

Where the hell is he? She thought, slightly annoyed at his absence.

Alas, she had spoken too soon. "Sorry I'm late Granger," came the boy's voice from behind Hermione.

"Oh!" The abrupt presence of the Gryffindor startled Hermione. "Don't do that, Potter, you could give someone a heart attack!" Much to her chagrin, Harry had walked in just in time to see Hermione had lost her smooth and collected visage.

Harry discreetly attempted to look Hermione up and down, checking out her outfit. When he had first walked on to the pitch, he had hardly recognized her from behind, as her hair was no longer the tangled mess it usually was, but subtle, sexy curls. When he realized that Hermione had noticed his stare, he raised an eyebrow. "Trying to impress me?"

Hermione snorted to cover up her slight blushing. "I'd ask you the same, Potter." She had noticed right away that it looked as though Harry had taken a bit more time getting ready than he usually did. He sported a deep red coloured sweater which, Hermione noticed, showed off his rather muscular shoulders. The outfit was completed with simple black trousers and runners.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Depends, Granger."

"On what?"

Harry gave a devilish wink, seemingly sarcastic. "On whether you're impressed or not."

"Hilarious, Potter," Hermione replied with her own wit. "So, what's this about a race?"

Harry pointed to the two broomsticks he had carried out with him. "You promised."

"I did no such thing!"

"'Save it for the next time,'" Harry recalled in a mockingly high pitched voice.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she, too, remembered the conversation they had shared by the lake on the day they had been appointed partners. She indeed had told Harry that they would race later. "Oh, fine, let's just get this over with, then."

Harry smirked. "Glad to see you're so excited about this, Granger. Grab a broom."

Hermione looked down at the brooms, trying her hardest to look as though she hadn't the faintest idea what to look for.

Truth be told, Hermione was an expert flyer, a natural. The summer after Jo's first year at Hogwarts, her sister had come back and explained every little detail about her magical life, putting a deep emphasis on flying broomsticks. Since then, Hermione had always taken a particular interest in it. She had never liked the idea of flying for sport, as she had never been interested in any sports, but flying gave her a liberating feeling, like she was free of any stresses or worries she had back on the ground.

Hermione's face fell when she realized that Harry had brought two Nimbus 2000s. "I thought that I'd be fair and bring two equal brooms, so there was no cheating involved," he pitched in.

"I see. Good thinking," was her reply.

"So…" Harry said, picking up one of the identical brooms. "Mount your broom, Granger. Move it, or lose it!"

Hermione laughed at his comment, as she picked up the remaining broom. "I won't be losing, don't worry." She smirked at the look of skepticism on his face. It'll be hilarious to see his face when he realized I can actually fly.

"Alright, once around the entire castle, finishing at the center of the pitch. Sound good?"

Hermione pretended to be immersed in the thought as she got ready to take off.

"Granger? You there? Is that alright?"

"Eat my dust, Potter." And with that, she kicked off the ground and soared through the air, beginning the single lap race.

"What the… YOU'LL PAY, GRANGER!" Harry yelled after the retreating figure, immediately kicking off and following suit.

Hermione slowed her pace down. She decided she would act as though she had no idea what she was doing for the first bit, and once the moment came, she would blow right by her opponent. Build him up high, then tear him down quick.

It didn't take long for Harry to catch up with Hermione's dawdling pace. He slowed down as he came up beside her. "That was uncalled for, Granger!"

Hermione smiled in a sickeningly sweet way. "Whatever do you mean, boy?"

"You know very well what I mean," he replied. He held himself back from veering her off course, as she didn't know how to fly. "I'll go easy on you, okay?" He sped up to fly two or three feet ahead of her.

Hermione exerted a bit more speed, catching up with the Gryffindor Seeker easily. "What did you say? Sorry, it's just that you sped ahead, there…"

Harry looked at Hermione in disbelief, wondering how on Earth she was able to keep up with him and not fall off of her broom. "How…?"

"Oh, you know," said Hermione in a fairly airy tone, "a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do!"

Harry had no time to retort, as all of a sudden, the brunette explosively took off, creating an astonishingly quick pace for herself.

As the pair came to the first bend, Harry realized there was something Hermione hadn't bothered to tell him. Wondering why she was so… good… Harry slowly picked up his pace, strategically taking his time to catch up with her.

Hermione came up to the halfway point, exhilaration running through her veins. Her mood faltered, though, when she heard a zooming figure come up behind her.

Harry seemed out of breath as he finally came to Hermione's side. "You can fly."

"You noticed," Hermione said with a tiny smirk.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me!" Harry exclaimed, having to yell over the rushing wind.

"Shut up and fly, Potter," came Hermione's short reply. Her face screwed up in determination as she willed her broom to fly faster.

Harry wasn't going to let Hermione go that easily this time, however. He kept in pace with her, not letting her out of within a foot of him. "It's a race now, Granger!"

Hermione forced herself lower on her broom, trying to aerodynamically enhance her position.

Harry could feel a familiar rush welling up inside him. The feeling of chasing his goal and racing alongside another flyer reminded him strongly of his favorite pastime. This is just another Quidditch match… That's all.

Harry could no longer recognize Hermione as the fairly pretty Slytherin he had been racing moments now. All he could see now was an ugly opponent, flying after the Snitch. Harry pressed himself against the broom he had borrowed without permission from the broom closet, and expertly moved up to be exactly in line with the assailant.

Even the flowing brown hair and lack of Quidditch robes couldn't bring Harry out of his reverie. He tried maniacally to pass his competitor.

Hermione turned her head slightly to look at Harry. She was slightly surprised at the intense expression of concentration etched on his features. She turned back around and leaned onto her broom even more.

Harry began to get frustrated at the lack of progression his attempt was making. After trying one last time to exert all his forces and pass his rival, he let out a yell of irritation and as he did regularly during Quidditch matches, forcefully checked his broomstick into the one riding beside him.

Hermione screamed in a mixture of fright and surprise. She had expected Harry to be intense, but never would she have been ready for the powerful blow he had just administered. She continued to scream as she fell off of her broom and plummeted eight or nine feet, to the ground.

Hermione's screaming finally shook Harry out of his aura of concentration. Shit, what did I do that for? He yelled inwardly. Once again, though, his Quidditch instincts took a hold of him, as he followed Hermione towards the ground, chasing after her as if she was the prized Snitch.

Unfortunately, though, mere inches separated his reach from her arm.

"Oomph!" Hermione grunted. She had been expecting, throughout her screaming, to experience excruciating pain once she had hit the ground. She thanked Merlin, though, that their race had taken them over the Herbology greenhouses. Hermione had fallen in one of Professor Sprout's bushes outside of Greenhouse One, slightly cushioning her fall. However, the pain was not absent, and she began to groan in discomfort.

Harry hastily touched ground and threw his broom away and he ran over to the fallen girl. "Oh my God, Hermione, I'm so sorry!"

Hermione continued to express her affliction as she felt Harry's presence beside her. She looked up to see his worried expression.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God… Say something, Hermione!"

Hermione stopped making noise as she came to a realization. "You called me 'Hermione.'"

An immense look of relief swept over Harry. "You're okay!"

"Why did you do that?"

He shook his head in regret. "Blimey, I'm such a git, Hermione. The race just got so intense, I couldn't help it…It was like a Quidditch match, or something. I couldn't even see your face anymore, you were just a member of the other team…"

Hermione was still wincing in pain. Nevertheless, the anguish didn't relieve her of sarcasm. "That's a little bit disturbing… I think you may have a problem."

Harry couldn't help but laugh at her. His mirth wavered, though, as he saw Hermione's face express her utter distress.

"I can't laugh, it hurts too much," she said.

Harry leaned over her. "Where does it hurt?" he asked. He began to apply pressure to different parts on her torso, examining her face to read any extra soreness.

Hermione felt another jolt. This time, however, it was not inflicted by pain. It was something else…

"Ow," she said softly, no longer concentrating on the pain, but on the look of concern on Harry's face.

A lock of hair rested on his forehead as he reached across to carefully touch her shoulder. He didn't bother to sweep away the offending strand. Harry put a slight pressure on her shoulder, and quickly retreated when he saw the look of pain on her face. "Did that hurt?"

"Kind of," she replied quietly.

Slowly, his hand started to move across her shoulder, and with hesitation, he deliberately began to follow the soft curve of her neckline.

Hermione leaned into his touch, softly closing her eyes. She couldn't even feel the pain anymore: all she felt was Harry's hand on her neck. Without hesitation, and out of instinct, she placed her hand on his.

Harry stopped moving. What's she doing? he asked himself confusedly.

"Harry…" Hermione's voice wavered slightly.

"What is it? What's wrong?" he asked with concern. Hermione did not respond this time. She sat up slowly, trying to masking the soreness. Her mind clouded over. Hermione looked at Harry, who was kneeling right in front of her. She cocked to the side and traced his lips with her finger. Harry gazed at her enraptured by her touch. He cupped his hands around her face, staring at her intently. Unaware of what he was doing he pulled her in close, brushed her finger aside and claimed her lips with his own.

The suddenness of Harry's movements surprised her, yet she did not protest as she wrapped her arms around his taught shoulders. She shivered at the warmth of the kiss, her heart racing wildly.

Harry had kissed many others, many times, but during none of them had he felt the same as he did now. He felt as though he was meant for her, their two different worlds brought together at last. He lost all control as he deepened the kiss, pulling her in closer as he did so.

Soon both felt the need for air, as they slowly pulled away from each other.

"So. Who won the race?" Hermione said softly with a playful tone.

"Don't talk Granger." He responded restlessly once engaging in a passionate kiss.

A/N: Oh my god. I am totally out of breath. Whew. Kay. I dont know if that sounded really stupid to you guys but it sounded wonderful to me. Also my cousin (pannalid) who helped write this chapter of bliss. Plz read and review. Thanks to my reviewers. :D