"Are you cold?" Ron asked. Hermione's cheeks were burning red as the wind rushed past both their faces. Ron was freezing, and the bleachers dug icy trails into his backside, but he would offer up his heavy robes in a minute to keep Hermione warm.
She assured him that she was fine, but her teeth chattered while she said so. Although her figure shook, she refused to accept any extra protection from the cold. Her eyes were glued ahead of her, at the figures draped in red and green robes. She was so focused that she barely noticed the weather; she only realized how snowy it was when she had to wipe the flakes away from her eyes in order to see the players better.
"Yeah!" Ron yelled. He pumped his fist in the air. "C'mon Harry! He sees the Snitch," he said, turning to Hermione.
"Go Harry," she said halfheartedly. She knew she should be cheering on her friend and fellow Gryffindor, but her heart just wasn't in it that day. Instead of watching Harry dive for the tiny golden ball, her eyes drifted down to where a certain Slytherin Seeker still searched anxiously for the Snitch.
"We won!" Ron yelled, as Harry completed his dive, narrowly avoiding collision with another player. Ron turned to high five Hermione, who was still in a bit of a daze. "You're not catching cold, are you?" he asked her, as his extended hand drooped back down to his side.
"No, I'm fine," she said, "just a little worried about that essay that Snape assigned. I really should get back to work on it."
"But Hermione, you already have twice as much written as I do. Besides, don't you want to come congratulate Harry with me?" Ron asked. His eyes searched hers for some clue as to why the Snape paper worried her so much. He didn't think she was leaving completely because of the paper, and a tiny, self-conscious part of him wondered if he was the reason she wanted to go so badly.
"I'm sure I'll catch him back at the common room," she said. In some small region of Hermione's brain, she herself wondered why she was so urgent to get back. It's not as if anything awaited her in the dorms, and she had finished the paper days before. She only knew that Harry would see through her pretense where Ron did not, and she didn't want to hurt Harry's feelings by acting uninterested in the game. It was hard for her to focus on anything lately. All her thoughts seemed to be concentrated on one person. Hermione was not accustomed to such errant thoughts, and she was still unsure about how to hide those thoughts from her friends. Especially with the way she kept feeling all light-headed every time he looked in her direction, she thought, as he looked her way and she sunk deeper into her seat.
Ron looked crushed, but he said goodbye to Hermione and headed down to the Gryffindor huddle of shouting and cheering. He smirked as he glanced over to where the Slytherin team retreated dejectedly back into the locker rooms, their green robes looking almost black in the snow. Ron could not get close enough to Harry to congratulate him, so he settled for talking to Hagrid, who was perched at the bottom of the bleachers.
"Atta boy, Harry," Hagrid yelled. He turned to Ron. "Where's Hermione," Hagrid asked. "Haven't seen her in a while."
"She's been a little off lately," Ron replied unhappily. "Worried about some paper Snape gave us, I guess. She didn't even want to talk to Harry, just went back up to her room to work."
"Well it is Hermione, Ron," Hagrid said pointedly. "'S not unlike her to spend hours and hours workin' while the rest of us are havin' fun."
"True that," Ron said, glancing once more at the retreating Slytherins. He continued to talk with Hagrid until they could finally get close enough to Harry to give him a pat on the back. Finally, the Gryffindors went back to the dorms to celebrate their victory. Ron followed behind the happy team, hoping in the back of his mind that Hermione would at least come down from her room for some butterbeer, so he could find out what was wrong with her.
At the other side of the school, a dejected Draco Malfoy kicked angrily at his bedroom wall. There would be no festivities in the Slytherin common room, not after such a big loss to Gryffindor. He knew the team would hold him responsible for the loss. He should have been trying harder to find the Snitch, but he just couldn't concentrate, knowing that her eyes were glued to him the whole game. He barely even noticed when Potter dove for the golden ball; he was too lost in his thoughts about the brown eyes fixed steadily in his direction. Ever since that day in her room, his life had been constant torture. The only relief came in knowing that she too was tortured by thoughts of him. Finally, someone had gotten through the bushy barrier around her head. With that thought, Draco smiled satisfactorily, kicked the wall one last time, and laid down in his bed.