Author's Note: To be back on the Internet again feels SO GOOD! I have been deprived this whole week, because a) I've been studying like a madwoman for midterms (this coming week—AHHH!) and b) my Internet had been down since Monday. ALSO, after I posted chapter 8 I realized I wasn't quite done writing chapter 9!! In other words, not such a great place to be. So after a lot of writing, re-writing, and other forms of torture (except I like it a lot), I am back with chapter 9. OH and Melissa, I semi-dedicate this to you—I used strumpet =). xxx*Anya*xxx
Chapter Nine
Gryffindor Versus Slytherin
Saturday dawned bright and clear; a perfect day for a Quidditch match. As the second Gryffindor match of the season (they'd flattened Hufflepuff back in November), all of Gryffindor House was buzzing with anxious excitement. If they won this match (and, as Ron was quick to point out, they'd never lost to "Malfoy's shoddy team"), they'd be playing Ravenclaw in April for the Quidditch Cup.
As usual, the team entered the Great Hall together and was greeted by cheers from three quarters of the room. The Slytherins, to no one's surprise, booed loudly. Some fourth-year Gryffindor boys who reminded Harry, Ron, and Hermione a lot of Fred and George took it upon themselves to chuck what looked suspiciously like miniature Venus flytraps at the Slytherin table, yelling, "Take that, you mangy curs!"
Other than that, breakfast was uneventful. Hermione and Ron walked Harry out to the back doors so he could go down to the changing rooms and Hermione distinctly heard a drawling voice hiss, "Ready to die, Potter?"
She shook her head and watched the tall blond boy saunter past them, purposefully knocking into Ron's shoulder. He looked over his shoulder to scowl at the two boys, but Hermione could have sworn she saw him wink at her.
How debonair, she thought, biting back a smile.
Harry said something to Ron that sounded very much like, "quit rubbing your shoulder, he may be foul but he's not poisonous!" Hermione blindly continued walking with them, thinking about how Quidditch would never be the same now that she'd, er, experienced the locker rooms firsthand.
"What?" she said, realizing that Harry had asked her a question.
"Just making sure you'd be in the stands today," Harry repeated.
"Yeah, we don't want it to end up like last time when you went to the bathroom for an hour," Ron added.
"Ron, for the last time I was not in the bathroom for an hour!" Hermione exclaimed, "But of course I'll be there. Well, here we are, you'd better go down. Best of luck to you, Harry. I'll be cheering you on."
He smiled and gave them both a little wave before heading down to the changing rooms.
Hermione and Ron took their usual seats in the stands near Neville and Hagrid, where everyone was buzzing with excitement, waiting for the game to begin. Three-quarters of the students were proudly bearing crimson rosettes on the lapels of their cloaks (except for Hagrid who was, as usual, covered in them) and all of Gryffindor beamed at their Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw supporters.
Everyone was bundled up to some degree; the weather was beautiful but brisk. Hermione looked sharp and pretty, as well as warm, in her favorite red top, gray tweed pants, and a very long gold scarf.
"Go, go, Gryffindor!" she shouted, getting into the spirit.
"Oh yeah, I always shout 'go, go, Gryffindor' all by myself," Ron said sarcastically.
"During practice, yes you do," she retorted. "It's pretty pointless to yell when they're the only ones playing."
"It motivates them!" he protested.
"It distracts them!" she argued. "I can't even count the number of times Katie or Alicia or any of the rest have gotten hit in the side of the head with the Quaffle because they had to stop and wonder who on earth could possibly be shrieking like that, making such a horrible noise!"
"I do not shriek," Ron said sullenly, scowling.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ron, you're completely missing the point," she said disdainfully.
But they were interrupted because Ben Jordan (Lee Jordan's brother who was now a third-year Gryffindor and had impeccably taken over Lee's commentating position when he left Hogwarts) then shouted, "Okay everyone, it's a great day for Quidditch, we've got Gryffindor vs. Slytherin coming up just as soon as the teams make it out to the pitch—there they are! Here comes Gryffindor; Captain Alicia Spinnet followed by her fellow Chasers Katie Bell and Tanna Morton—new to the team this year but HAVE YOU TAKEN A LOOK AT—sorry, Professor," he said sheepishly as Professor McGonagall gave him a threatening glare and continued, "Beaters Andrew Kirke and Jack Sloper—will they ever live up to Fred and George's legacy? Oh sorry, boys, you're great, no pressure! Anyway, following them is Keeper Alan Cooper and our practically undefeated, infamous Seeker, Harry Potter!"
The crowd cheered as the team made their way onto the Quidditch pitch, all of whom looked pleased but very nervous. Hermione could practically see Harry's jaw clenched up as he fought down the unwelcome feeling of apprehension that came to him before every game (even if he never said so).
"And now, here comes the Slytherin team—" Ben began in a bored monotone. However, he was drowned out by Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw jeering and booing, "—and Seeker, Draco Malfoy."
"Captains, shake hands," Madame Hooch said briskly. "Mount your brooms…on my whistle…three—two—one—"
Hermione and Ron grinned at each other and watched Harry's Firebolt zoom into the air faster and higher than any other broom—including Malfoy's state of the art Nimbus Two Thousand and Three.
"Yeh, Harry!" Hagrid boomed from behind them. "Tha's my boy!"
Like all Gryffindor-Slytherin matches, this one had the unmistakable buzzing feeling of tension and insane competition. Every single person in the stadium sat on the edge of their seats, watching wide-eyed in anticipation.
"Slytherin in possession, Montague catches the Quaffle, he's really picking up speed, and—oh man, he just misses the Bludger from Kirke—nice shot there, too bad you missed—"
"Teaches me to take on another Jordan to do the commentary," Professor McGonagall muttered, giving him a sharp look.
"I know, I know, Professor, biased commentating is the fast track to Hell—right then, Katie Bell of Gryffindor has the Quaffle…passes Warrington, Montague's catching up, Crabbe takes a swing at a Bludger—OH NO YOU DON'T, YOU FOUL LITTLE—and ohhh, NICE, Sloper, he beat back that Bludger, Bell zooms through—HAH! That's gotta hurt, Crabbe hit square in the face with the Bludger, perhaps a black eye will improve his look—kidding, Professor—anyway, Bell still has the Quaffle, she's headed for the goal…"
Loud cheering emanated from the stands as Katie zoomed past Bletchley, the Slytherin Keeper, and scored.
"Ten-zero to Gryffindor!" Ben whooped.
Hermione looked up to where Draco and Harry were hovering. Harry had a look of great concentration on his face, eyes out for the Snitch all the while. Draco had his eyes on Harry, because if Harry saw the Snitch, so did he. Hermione bit her lip; of course she wanted Harry to get it, of course she wanted Gryffindor to win, but…Draco always lost to Harry. It would make him feel so good if he won, just this once…
Don't think like that, she scolded herself. This isn't a Harry-Draco game, this is a Gryffindor-Slytherin game and I want my own house to win.
"Thirty-zero to Gryffindor as Bell scores again—she's really in her element today! Ugh, Warrington takes the Quaffle, he's headed back up the pitch—COME ON, SLOPER, THAT'S WHAT BLUDGERS ARE FOR!!"
He danced out of McGonagall's reaches just in time to shout, "There's nothing between him and the goal posts now except Alan Cooper, and he's really speeding up now— NICE SAVE, COOPER!"
Suddenly Harry's gaze sharpened; he could see the Snitch flitting not even twenty feet from the ground, near one of the Ravenclaw barriers. He felt the usual rush of excitement flood his body as he tore off, never taking his eyes off it. After a few seconds Draco realized what Harry was doing and headed towards the Snitch from the other direction.
Hermione heard Ron let out a strangled gulping noise as he watched Harry and Malfoy dive towards the Snitch. She grabbed his hand in sheer anticipation and squeezed; he squeezed back, both digging their nails in and each leaving a sharp pain in the other's palms that neither of them really noticed.
"…looks like Potter and Malfoy spotted the Golden Snitch…"
They both tore through the air at such a quick speed that it was nearly impossible to tell who was closer. Both teams stopped what they were doing to watch the two boys chase after the Snitch. Everyone was watching. Everyone except the four Beaters, who were having quite a job keeping the Bludgers away from everyone else.
Suddenly there was an increasingly loud roar coming from the base of the Ravenclaw stands. The sound spread and rose, and it took Harry a minute to realize he'd closed his fingers at last around the tiny, fluttering ball. The boisterous cheers filled the stadium, completely drowning out groans from the Slytherins.
"WE WON!! WE WON!!" Ron cried, grabbing Hermione's face and firmly kissing both of her cheeks before she threw her arms around his neck, screaming hoarsely.
CRACK!
It was faint, but everybody heard it.
Goyle lost control of his Bludger at last. It soared through the air, swooped past Harry, who was slowly floating to the ground, arm raised high over his head and a triumphant grin plastered across his face, and smacked right into Draco's left arm.
"NO!" Kirke yelled as he lunged forward; the other Bludger slipped from his grasp and flew into the back of Draco's head, knocking him unconscious.
Ron breathed in sharply. "Two Bludgers at once," he whispered, eyes wide. "That's gotta hurt."
Hermione saw the whole thing in slow motion, and the next thing she knew she'd clapped a hand over her mouth and was running blindly to where he'd fallen almost 15 feet to the ground (the fall alone breaking his right leg in two places, he later found out).
The entire stadium watched the bookish Gryffindor kneel at Draco's side (not even his team went to him that quickly), gently stroking his hair.
"Someone get Madam Pomfrey," she snapped when the Slytherin team finally approached them. "He's badly hurt!"
*~*~*~*
Harry watched everything going on between them, heard everyone whispering about them, and felt like someone had taken a dull knife, stabbed it in his heart, and twisted. So much for the elation of winning. Hermione and Malfoy were now Hermione-and-Malfoy and no one had bothered to tell him. Ew. Had she no pride? Draco only went out with slutty girls like Pansy Parkinson and that awful Miss Allegra. Since when had Hermione Granger, his Hermione, turned into some kind of strumpet?
Or maybe that was the problem: his Hermione. She'd never been his, not really. She was so beautiful, and smart, and kind…he should have taken her while he had the chance, especially now that things with Cho were…well…the way they were. He was so stupid. But Malfoy?
*~*~*~*
As Madam Pomfrey scuttled down to the Quidditch field, Hermione's mind cleared and she realized with a jolt that she'd given their secret away.
Oh, shit.
"Oh, Draco," she whispered when he still had not moved. "I'm so sorry. I gave it all away. Everyone's going to hate us now, but that doesn't matter if you're not alright. Please be okay, Draco. Merlin, Draco…please be okay."
His eyes flickered open and he smiled. "I didn't know you cared," he whispered. "And why insult me? It's just a few broken bones, I've had worse in my day."
Hermione wiped her wet cheeks. "Of course I care, you arrogant little butthead!" she whispered. "Of course I care."
*~*~*~*
When Hermione returned to Gryffindor Tower some time later, they were all celebrating Slytherin's defeat, but the moment she stepped through the portrait hole the party ceased; all eyes were on her. She knew they were all thinking of the incident on the Quidditch field, but she said nothing. Harry's eyes met hers for a brief moment; they were full of anger, hurt, and shame on his face that he was desperately trying to hide.
"I have nothing to say to you," he said icily. He threw his butterbeer (doubtlessly he and Ron had snuck into Hogsmeade) in a corner and sulked off to his dormitory.
"Neither do I," said Ron sadly, following Harry. "Honestly, Hermione…Malfoy?"
Hermione bit her lip, willing back tears. This isn't how it was supposed to go, she thought, plopping into her favorite chair.
Slowly the common room emptied until only Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati were left.
"What?" Hermione demanded, glaring at them.
Parvati giggled.
"Well," Lavender said with the smile one wears when one has a delicious secret, "It's about Draco, actually. He's so hot. Is he a good kisser?"
"UGH!" Hermione groaned, and with that she got up and stormed off.
*~*~*~*
She walked around for awhile, just to blow off steam, and on her way back she ran into Harry.
"I thought you were in your dormitory," she said, her face softening.
"Yeah, and I thought you were off shagging Malfoy," he retorted.
"Harry, we're not—"
"I don't care. You know how I feel about you and yet you still go off with that bastard."
"Harry, he and I are—are just friends," she said quietly, her heart racing. She realized that this, however, was the only way she could keep her friends.
The last thing she wanted to do was lose her friends.
"Then how d'you explain what happened today?" he roared.
"He's my friend, Harry, I would have—I have—done the same for you," she said. "He's really not so bad, once you get to know him."
"Hermione, I can't believe—"
"I'm not asking you to like him," she said seriously, taking one of his chapped hands in hers. "But please don't have me because I do. I'd really miss you."
He looked thoughtful for a minute and then, "Malfoy, Hermione? How on earth did that happen?"
She blushed and they walked down the hallway, still holding hands. "We, er, kept running into each other over the holidays. Things just sort of happened on their own."
"How come you didn't tell me?" he wondered.
"Because I knew you'd take it so well," she said dryly.
He grinned. "Hey, what can I say? Nobody messes with my girl."
And then he bent down and gently, timidly, kissed her mouth.
"Oh my God," he said nervously. "Hermione, I am so sorry. I shouldn't have done that."
"No," she protested, her heart going out to him and the awkwardness he felt. "It was nice."
Harry bit his lip (a habit he picked up from Hermione several years ago). "Oh. Okay."
They walked for a little longer, aimlessly wandering the halls of their beloved Hogwarts. "Harry, what happened between you and Cho over Christmas?" Hermione asked abruptly.
Harry looked startled, and then took a breath. "Well, actually, we—"
"Hey, what are you guys doing?" called a familiar voice. She turned around to see Ron heading towards them, a slight pang of disappointment filling her (she wanted to know what happened!). He stopped when he saw Hermione. "Oh. Um, your boyfriend's in the hospital wing till morning—he took quite a fall. I just heard Pansy sobbing to Crabbe and Goyle about how he's going to be permanently brain damaged…funny, I thought he already was."
"We are just friends," Hermione said firmly.
"Whatever, no matter how you look at it, it's Malfoy and he's gross."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm going to go see how Draco's doing," she mumbled before the conversation could improve.
"If you take more than half an hour, we're coming after you!" Ron called. "And you won't like that!"
*~*~*~*
"Hey," she whispered, sliding onto the side of Draco's bed after several long minutes of convincing Madam Pomfrey that she would be quiet and brief. "How are you feeling?"
"Ruddy marvelous!" he said, forcing a smile. "My head hurts. But other than that, I'm really fine. I'm not a baby, you know."
He looked so indignant with his lower lip pursed out that Hermione had to bite back a small smile. "I know you're not," she said sweetly, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "But Madam Pomfrey seems to think otherwise, and in the hospital wing, what she thinks is law."
Draco smiled for real then. "How are Potter and Weasley?"
"You don't care about them," she said, brushing him off.
"You're right, I don't," he agreed. "But I don't want you losing your best friends on my account."
She smiled. "The Tin Man does have a heart, after all."
"Yes, well, don't get used to it."
"They're fine, or as fine as can be expected. It took a lot of coaxing, but they seem to have faith that I have not gone over to the Dark Side and are willing to remain my friends," she said, lacing her fingers in his. "They still hate you, though."
"Nice to know the finer things in life remain the same," he said dryly. "You can tell them that the feeling will always be mutual."
Suddenly Madam Pomfrey poked her head in the door. "Come, Miss Granger," she said impatiently, "Master Malfoy needs his rest."
"Let me just say goodbye," Hermione requested, and with a brisk huff, she left them in peace, mumbling under her breath about impertinent children.
When she looked back at Draco, he had an odd look in his eye that went very well with his smirk. "What?" she asked.
"Nothing," said Draco, raising his eyebrows. "But you made Madam Pomfrey leave so you could say goodbye."
"I know, I was right here."
"Am I getting my kiss or not?" he demanded.
"There was no mention of a kiss!" Hermione said, but she was smiling.
"I have a theory that it has the ability to cure the terrible headache brought about by plummeting fifteen feet to the ground at the blow of a Bludger," he said.
"That's a very specific case, Master Malfoy," she commented.
"Yes, well this is a very specific request. Please? We're wasting time, discussing my, ahem, brilliant theory," he said.
She bit her lip, grinning, and brought her lips down to his for a slow, fervent kiss.
"Did it work?" she asked, sitting back up.
He sighed. "Alas, my theory is useless," he said in mock disappointment. "But that was one hell of a—well hello, Madam Pomfrey, Hermione was just leaving."
Hermione spun around. "Yes, yes I was."
The touch of Draco's hand squeezing hers made her face him one last time. "Hey, Hermione?" he said, almost nervously.
"Yeah?"
"Um…thanks for caring about me."
He looked at her expectantly, and almost instantly her face softened. "I always will, Draco."
She was almost out the door when she heard him say again, "Hey, Hermione?"
"Yeah?"
"Same to you."
Author's Note: The passage beginning at: '"Oh, Draco," she whispered when he still had not moved' and ending at: '"Of course I care, you arrogant little butthead!" she whispered. "Of course I care"' is an adapted form of a passage that appears in Tamora Pierce's In The Hand of the Goddess (great book!). Felt like I should cite that. Also, this was my first attempt at writing a Quidditch match—I hope I did it justice! I know as of Phoenix Ginny and Ron are supposed to be on the team too, but I never really liked that. So, hooray, tell me what you liked and what I can do better and I will be one happy Anya. xxx*Anya*xxx