Hardest Thing
Chapter Three
The first thing Malfoy did when he woke up was dress. The second thing he did was reach for his broomstick. The third thing he did was fling open the window and sail out into the cool clear morning just as the sun began to rise over the grounds of Hogwarts. Pale blue mist clung to the top of the Dark Forest, rising slowly with the breeze. Malfoy soared over the lake, revelling in the feel of air brushing across his face. The wind caught his hair, tumbling it around his face.
He pointed his broomstick towards the ground, falling towards the dew-soaked grass. He pulled the nose of his broom upward just before it hit the ground and skimmed the grass with the toes of his boots. Bending low over his broomstick, Malfoy shot towards the Quidditch pitch. Wind whistled in his ears. The sensation of flying was delicious. He dipped and swerved and rolled in the air, performing a sort of athletic dance in the sky. He had no idea he was being watched.
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Hermione stood at her window, watching Malfoy fly. He dove towards the ground, ending in a sort of loop that sent him out across the lake. Malfoy did a barrel roll, holding tight to his broomstick, and went straight from that into a complicated-looking corkscrew twist high in the sky. It was amazing, Hermione thought. She had never been good at flying. At the best of times she tolerated it. Her stomach always felt like it would drop right out her feet whenever she even considered doing such a breathtaking dive, like the one Malfoy was doing now.
Hermione smiled to herself, and then gasped as she watched Malfoy shift on his broom until he was crouching on it, feet balanced carefully on the handle. He glided over the ground just above the grass and ever so slowly raised himself to his feet. It looked, Hermione decided, just like surfing, except more dangerous and on a stick instead of a board. The jubilant expression on the blonde boy's face when he dropped from his broom onto the grass was transforming. As Malfoy recovered his broom and shot back towards the castle, Hermione stepped away from her window, lest he see that she'd been watching.
As she showered and dressed for breakfast, Hermione contemplated what she'd just witnessed. She wondered what Malfoy would say if he knew that she'd seen him, and seen the look of pride that crossed his face before he returned to the castle. When she stepped out of her room, Hermione came face to face with Malfoy in the hallway. She caught her breath when their eyes met and held his gaze for a short moment.
"Good morning," she greeted him coolly, and turned away, headed for the library.
…………
Still exhilarated from his morning flight, Malfoy watched Hermione go. Her hair was still slightly damp, he noticed, and the air was scented faintly with shampoo. He smiled to himself. It was oddly intimate. He still hadn't decided what to do about the bet, however, and the problem perturbed him throughout his walk down to the Great Hall. There were few students inside the hall, eating together in small groups and speaking in hushed, tired morning voices. Malfoy slid into a seat at the empty Slytherin table; most of them wouldn't arrive for another hour or so. He ate slowly, contemplating his dilemma.
He'd have to catch her unawares, he decided, and certainly at a time when Potter and Weasley were nowhere to be found. And no bottles anywhere in the vicinity, that was for sure. She was capable of taking care of herself. Somehow, the idea of jumping her somewhere and tying her up seemed wrong. It wasn't a fair way to do it. If he wanted to win the bet, he'd have to do it in at least a semi-honest fashion. Malfoy was reaching for his pumpkin juice when Archimedes swooped down from the ceiling of the Great Hall carrying an official-looking letter from Malfoy's father.
Draco,
It has recently come to my attention that you have recently embroiled yourself in an untoward situation with a Muggle-born girl at school. If I am not mistaken, you have imperiled the family honor over the same girl whom you have complained bitterly about for the past six years. For your sake, I hope I am correct in assuming that it was she who threw herself at you, thus leaving the Malfoy reputation uncompromised. I attend your explanation with impatience.
Your Father,
L.
Malfoy smiled bitterly and incinerated his father's letter with a flick of his wand. He stroked Archimedes's head absently, offering the owl a piece of bacon. While he certainly wouldn't have chosen Hermione Granger for himself, he wasn't sure that kissing her would qualify as compromising the "Malfoy reputation". Malfoy sat at the table for a long time, gazing into space over his half-empty plate. When other students began to file into the room, he rose and strode from the room, brushing past Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, who were looking particularly murderous.
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Hermione entered the Great Hall moments after Harry and Ron. When she slid into her seat, she immediately noticed the scowls on their faces.
"You just missed Malfoy," Ron grumbled into his eggs.
"What a disappointment," Hermione said dryly, pouring herself a goblet of juice. "Are people still talking?"
"Everyone in Gryffindor knows what really happened by now," Harry told her. "Ginny is actually doing quite a bit of good." He looked up just in time to see the subject of conversation enter the room, chatting with Colin Creevey. To Hermione's amusement, colour rose in Harry's cheeks and he quickly looked back at his plate. Hermione raised a brow, but said nothing. Ron, true to character, hadn't been paying attention.
"When's the first Quidditch game?" Hermione inquired casually.
"Oh, er… Saturday. Hufflepuff will be playing Slytherin," Harry answered, taking an interest.
"When will you be playing them?" Hermione asked.
"Week after next," Harry answered.
"Great! You can avenge my virtue on the pitch then," Hermione joked. Harry grinned.
"I'd love to." He looked across the room to the Slytherin table. "They're actually not a great team this year," he commented. "A pity. They didn't have much actual talent before, but since all of their really big players graduated, the only good player left is Malfoy. Zabini's all right, I guess, but mostly they just sort of have to hope that Malfoy gets the Snitch."
Ron snorted. "And he won't if you have anything to say about it."
"And you'll stop them from scoring through the hoops," Hermione said. "You're really quite good, Ron. And being Quidditch Captain can't hurt either."
Ron went scarlet. "I'm not that good," he protested. "Harry's better."
"Not better," Hermione insisted. "Just different." Ron looked rather chuffed.
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It was several days until Malfoy and Hermione encountered each other again. The next time they did more than glance at each other was on Friday afternoon when their rounds were explained to them by Argus Filch, the school caretaker.
"You will be checking the fifth floor through the seventh floor, and the Astronomy Tower." He sneered unpleasantly at Hermione. "You ought to know all about that." Hermione smiled weakly. First year seemed so long ago…
"What do we do if we catch anyone?" Malfoy asked gruffly.
"Grab them by the neck and-"
"Argus," came a warning voice. It was Dumbledore. "I must ask you not to be overly harsh with any rule-breaking students that you find." He smiled at them over his glasses. "After all, it has happened to all of us at least once in our years here." Malfoy and Hermione shifted a bit where they stood. It certainly had. "You must, of course, take their names and report them to their Heads of Houses."
"If you'd let me hang them by their thumbs, they wouldn't do it again in a hurry," Filch said hopefully, looking at the Headmaster. Dumbledorebright eyes crinkled in amusement.
"Now Argus, you know that causes arthritis in later years. We'll stick to good, old-fashioned detentions, I believe."
The caretaker looked disappointed.
"What time do we report?" Hermione inquired pleasantly.
"Ten o' clock tomorrow night," Filch answered. "In my office. And be on time." He then excused himself as Mrs. Norris appeared at his ankle, obviously reporting an unfortunate student. Dumbledore smiled at Hermione and Malfoy, and then departed in another direction. The pair of students stood alone in the hallway for a moment.
"I'll see you tomorrow night, Malfoy," Hermione said, not looking up. She walked away before Malfoy could answer.
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He really wished she wouldn't do that. Malfoy watched Hermione walk away again. He wished she'd actually look at him for once, instead of speaking to the floor or to his robes. And he wished she'd stick around so he could respond. Calling down the hall after her wasn't at all dignified, although it wasn't as if he had any reply.
Earlier in the week, Malfoy had written a vague letter to his father giving him a very brief explanation for the stories he'd heard. Lucius had written back that although Mudblood-baiting was a perfectly reasonable pastime, it might serve well to find a way that was less open to misinterpretation. Malfoy rolled his eyes. The only person who could possibly misinterpret a kiss bestowed on Hermione Granger was Lucius Malfoy himself. Pansy Parkinson would probably do a reasonable job of it though, Malfoy considered, although she still seemed convinced that it was only a matter of time until Malfoy would be on his knees begging for her hand.
Malfoy shuddered. Marriage had always been one of those things that were discussed distantly, as though it were far in the future. He supposed that after he graduated from Hogwarts he'd attend the same graduate school that his father had and then enter the Ministry of Magic. Then he supposed he'd make a political marriage with a pureblood girl somewhere and produce an heir. He'd lead a respectable Malfoy life in a powerful position, living comfortably until he died. The prospect, while not particularly exciting, was what he'd been born to do.
Malfoy returned to his room to prepare for Quidditch practice. They were playing Hufflepuff tomorrow, and unless he could catch the Snitch, they'd lose. As Team Captain, the least he could do was prepare them to fight.
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Hermione woke early the next morning and hurried to meet Harry and Ron before the Quidditch game. The Great Hall was bustling with students, excited about the game. Everyone but the Slytherin team seemed to be wearing yellow of some sort.
"Doesn't look like Slytherin has much support," Hermione remarked, looking around.
"Nope," Harry replied through his sausage. "They really made themselves unpopular. Even though they've lost the Cup for a couple of years now, everyone still likes to see them lose."
"I know I do," Ron growled. "The look on Ferret Head's face every time you get the stitch is worth every round of 'Weasley is our King' they've ever sung."
Hermione decided it was time to change the subject. "Tell me about Hufflepuff's strategy, Ron. How do they usually play?" And he was off. Not another word about Slytherin was spoken until the school mounted the Quidditch stands, excitement mounting as the players marched out onto the field. Madam Hooch threw the Quaffle high into the air, starting Dean Thomas on his commentary next to Professor McGonagall.
"And it's Zabini with the Quaffle! He's blocked by Abbott, good one, and she's off down the pitch, she shoots…Score! Hufflepuff up, 10 points to zero. Zabini has the Quaffle again, he passes to Snervey and it's blocked by Finch-Fletchley. FOUL! You're supposed to hit the Bludger, Goyle, not the opposite team! Penalty to Hufflepuff."
Hufflepuff scored several more times, interrupted occasionally by fouls from the Slytherin side. Mostly it was Crabbe and Goyle, Hermione noticed, although one of the green-clad chasers did get a whistle for cobbing. Malfoy circled above the rest of the game, searching for the Snitch. Once he dove, causing the Hufflepuff chaser to follow, but it seemed he'd done it merely to relieve the boredom of a Snitch-less hour. By some miracle, Blaise managed to score twice before Malfoy caught the Snitch, barely avoiding a Bludger with some very fancy flying. The Slytherin stands erupted in cheers as the rest of the school growled and hissed. Hermione felt privately that Malfoy's catch had been extraordinary, but she knew better than to say that to Harry and Ron who were grumbling along with the rest of the Gryffindors.
After the game, Hermione returned to the Gryffindor Common Room and chatted with her friends, even playing two games of chess with Ron, only one of which he won. The other ended in a stalemate, which suited Hermione fine. After lunch, she talked with Neville about his new snapdragon.
"Professor Sprout told me that this one hadn't been doing well since we repotted them," Neville told her happily. "She said it perked up when I visited them again, so she let me have it. It nearly set the curtains alight by accident, but look how much it's grown!" Hermione saw that it had indeed grown much larger. It sat on the windowsill looking quite healthy, bobbing in Neville's direction whenever he moved. Hermione excused herself to her room an hour before dinner to complete some homework and spend some time studying. She met Harry and Ron outside the Great Hall before dinner, noting with satisfaction that few people even glanced her way as she walked through the corridors.
"Had a good time?" Ron asked with a touch of sarcasm.
"Yes," Hermione said firmly. Ron grinned. They entered the Hall together and took their seats.
"You have rounds tonight, don't you?" Harry asked. He looked from Hermione across the room to Malfoy, who appeared enraptured by his juice goblet.
"Yes," Hermione sighed. "And I'm not looking forward to it. I'd rather do some more Arithmancy."
"Even I prefer homework to Malfoy," Ron said, making Harry snicker. "Divination, even."
"Divination is easy," Harry scoffed. "We make all of it up."
"How many times has she told you you'll die?" Hermione asked jokingly.
"About a dozen," Harry answered, rolling his eyes. "Today it's because Mars is in the seventh house or something. There must be something I haven't got, because I don't get any of it."
"Or something Trelawney hasn't got," Ron said through his potatoes, "like the majority of her marbles."
Hermione nearly spat her pumpkin juice over Ginny, seated next to her brother. Lavender and Parvati had apparently overheard Ron's remark because they both turned and scowled in his direction. Ron ignored them.
When the meal was over, Hermione excused herself to her rooms for a nap. She woke just in time to dress properly and run a brush through her hair before letting herself out into the castle. Malfoy was already in Filch's office when she arrived. He leaned nonchalantly against the wall, looking more bored than he had a right to. Filch shuffled into the room a moment after Hermione. He looked smiled unpleasantly.
"You're in for an exciting night," Filch said. "You take the fourth through seventh floors. Walk them together. The Astronomy Tower door locks by itself and no charm in the world will get it open again, use the doorstop, or you'll be up there all night. Don't forget to check unused classrooms, and if you find anyone," he paused, looking almost cheerful, "You know what to do. Now get going!" Malfoy turned immediately and strode from the room. Hermione followed, hurrying to keep up.
Once they reached the fourth floor, Malfoy slowed down. He lazily tried the knob of the nearest door and poked his head inside. He shut the door again.
"We can go," he said, and headed for the next staircase.
"No we can't," Hermione said irritably. "We have the rest of these rooms to check." Malfoy rolled his eyes but finished checking the doors on the right side of the corridor while Hermione tried the left. They moved on to the fifth floor, repeating the procedure. Hermione watched as Malfoy tugged on the axe a suit of armour was holding and jumped when it slid aside, allowing Malfoy access to a dark space behind. Hermione watched, slightly astonished, as he disappeared inside, returning a moment later with a scrap of cloth in his hand.
"Someone was in here earlier," he remarked, holding up the piece of cloth.
"When did you find that room?" Hermione asked curiously.
"Third year," Malfoy answered. "I used to hide from Filch there."
"Oh," was all Hermione could say. They mounted the stairs to the next floor. The sixth floor produced no lurking students and, in truth, not even a stray spider. Hermione couldn't help but wonder why it mattered if students were out of bed, as long as they stayed quiet. If they fell asleep in class it was their own fault and they should know better. She sighed to herself. Harry and Ron had definitely rubbed off on her. The seventh floor was silent and draughty. Hermione and Malfoy reached the Astronomy Tower entrance and propped open the door.
Feeling that she would only slow Malfoy down and aggravate him, Hermione gestured that he go first up the narrow staircase. To her surprise, he motioned that she should go. Shrugging, Hermione did as he indicated, moving faster than she expected. When she stepped out onto the observation floor, she stepped away from the door and looked up at the stars in wonderment. The sky was perfectly clear, leaving the stars completely unobscured. Then she heard the door close… and lock.
"Malfoy," she groaned, turning around. "Please tell me you put the doorstop in, and I just imagined that it closed."
Malfoy looked back at the door. "Shit," he said calmly and moved back to it, trying the handle. He pulled out his wand. "Alohomora!" Nothing happened. He stepped back from the door. "Impedimenta!" A burst of red-orange light shot from the tip of his wand, hit the door, and disappeared, leaving a faint scorch mark on the handle. "Wonderful."
Hermione turned away from the door and crossed the tower to look over the retaining wall, counting silently to ten as she did so. She took a deep breath, and determined to find a bright side in her being locked on the Astronomy Tower with Draco Malfoy.
"At least it isn't raining," she murmured.
"Shh! You'll jinx it," Malfoy told her seriously. "With my luck, it will rain."
Hermione fell silent, looking out across the grounds of Hogwarts. A soft breeze sent her hair back across here shoulders. Looking back up at the sky she said, "You flew really well this morning, Malfoy."
Malfoy said nothing for a moment. Then, "Thanks."
"I mean it. That catch was really brilliant. I can't do that."
"Hm," was all Malfoy said. He leaned over the wall a few feet away.
"I think it's too bad that your most of your good players graduated last year," Hermione continued.
"Do you have to keep talking?" Malfoy asked exasperatedly. Hermione glared at him and turned away.
So much for being friendly, she thought. She walked back across the tower and peered into one of the telescopes set up along the wall. Soon tired of that, she lay down in the middle of the floor and stared into the sky, feeling as if any moment it would swallow her up. The breeze blew across the stone again, catching her hair and sending a few strands across her face. Hermione brushed it away, continuing to stare at the stars. Again to her surprise, Malfoy crossed the tower to where she was and sat, arms folded over his legs.
"Do you fear flying?" he asked after a moment.
"No," Hermione answered after short consideration. "I fear falling more than flying."
They were silent again.
"I saw you flying earlier this morning, too," Hermione said boldly. "From my window."
"What did you think?" Malfoy inquired. He didn't look at her.
"I've never seen anything like it," Hermione said softly. "You were brilliant." They were silent again, for good this time. Hermione gazed into the sky until she couldn't keep her eyes open any longer. She relaxed into sleep, Malfoy still beside her, feeling oddly safe regardless of the fact that he was practically her sworn enemy.
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Malfoy heard Hermione's breathing slow and he shifted position smoothly, careful not to disturb her. He watched her sleeping, starlight glowing on her face. He watched her for what seemed like hours as she lay still, smiling gently in her slumber. A soft breeze blew once more across the tower, shifting her hair on the stone beneath her head. Malfoy rose gracefully and moved away from her, back across the tower. He pulled out his wand, and concentrating hard, conjured two blankets. He returned to the place where Hermione lay and spread one of the blankets gently across her body, then took the other blanket and lay down next to the wall opposite her.
He lay for a long time looking up at the sky and thinking about what had passed between them. She thought he was brilliant! A warm glow formed in the pit of his stomach. Soon he slept, a deep, dreamless sleep. .Malfoy didn't wake until morning, just as sunlight began to spill over the wall of the tower. He rose and stretched in one smooth motion, looking out over the wall at the brilliant sunrise. Hermione soon joined him at the wall.
"Thanks for the blanket," she said softly.
"You're welcome," Malfoy answered, still watching the sun. He remembered her words from the night before. You were brilliant. Suddenly, it wasn't the just the sun making him feel warm. He crossed the tower again, watching the dark sky fade away across the western treetops, replaced by a robin's egg blue. When he turned around, all he could see was Hermione where she stood on the other side of the tower. Her hair gleamed in the sunrise, looking like a sort of halo. I shouldn't be thinking that, he decided, and looked away again.
It was an hour or two before the door opened, revealing Filch, smirking nastily. "I hoped you'd got yourselves locked up here. That'll teach you to listen." He was followed by Harry and Ron, who stepped onto the Observation floor looking angry and worried. Both of them glared at Malfoy, who returned their looks coolly.
"Hermione!" Ron breathed, sounding relieved. "Are you all right?"
"Yes, Ron. I'm fine," Hermione answered. "It took you long enough to get here."
"We knocked on your door for ages. We could hear Crookshanks scratching behind it and figured something must have happened."
"Anyway, we're here now," Harry said. "I bet you're starving."
"Just because you are…" Hermione rolled her eyes, following Ron and Harry down the steps. Malfoy followed several steps behind, brushing passed Filch, who leered in a horrible manner as he passed. That man needs a toothbrush, Malfoy thought as he sauntered easily down the stairs.
............
A/N: So what do you think of that? If Hermione fears falling, she's really going to hate the next few chapters... but Draco can be very persuasive. :0)
Thanks for all of the support! I really appreciate it.
As always, buckets full of thanks to my triple-fab betas, Kerichi and Aindel S. Druida. You're wonderful!
Have a lovely, lovely day!