"Is there any dance you can't do, Mr. Malfoy?" Miranda gushed, as the final notes of the Tango faded.
"Draco, please," Draco insisted, forcing a smile. "And there aren't many I don't know. One of the few positive results of a stuffy, pureblood upbringing."
"It's no wonder you've been able to sweep Hermione off her feet." The dance instructor reached over and slowly ran her hand down Draco's arm. "If you ever find yourself in need of a new dance partner, you know where to find me." With a quick wink, she walked off to talk to Harry and Ginny.
Draco breathed a sigh of relief and went to grab his coat. He was able to slip out of the studio before any else could make a fuss over him.
Before heading back to his flat, Draco took a stroll through the town to clear his head. Hermione hadn't come to the final dance lesson and the instructor had quickly offered to be his partner. She had been more than a little forward in letting him know her interests included more than just dancing.
Miranda wasn't a bad looking woman, but there was something about her that reminded him of his former Transfiguration professor and he couldn't quite get past that. There was also the fact that she assumed Hermione was his girlfriend, yet took every opportunity to openly flirt with him as soon as Hermione wasn't there. He didn't have many deal breakers, but doppelganger professors and wannabe-mistresses were definitely on the list.
This was the one day of the year he wanted to lock himself in his flat and avoid contact with everyone. His mother had extended her usual dinner invite and he had, as usual, declined, which would result in her annual delivery of a letter full of guilt and a bottle of Firewhiskey.
He had thought about skipping the dance class again but didn't want to leave Hermione partnerless for another class. Plus, he didn't want Harry and Ginny to think he was neglecting his best man duties.
Since Hermione had shared her story, Draco was confused about how worried he was about her. It was quite the secret to have kept and, while he hadn't said it that night, he was also anxious about how Weasley would respond to it. Ron had been at the studio, but appeared subdued and didn't talk much, except to Harry. When Draco had asked Ginny about Hermione, she had given him a sweet, sympathetic smile and assured him that Hermione was fine. He had not appreciated the pedantic tone that was attached to her reply.
It was natural for him to be concerned, right? No reasonable human being could hear a story like that and not feel something. Fuck! When had he become a reasonable human being?
A blur of mocha colored curls hurried past and before Draco could stop himself, he called out, "Hermione!"
Luckily the owner of the curls didn't hear him because it certainly wasn't Hermione dashing into the arms of a bloke with long, raven hair.
"What the hell is wrong with me?" Draco muttered, running a hand over his face. He ducked into an alcove and quickly apparated home before he could make more of a public fool of himself.
But when he arrived back at his flat, he was met with the sight of Hermione's shoes and purse. She had left so quickly after their kiss that she had left it all behind. He had been hoping she'd return for it, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't want to pick up right where they left off.
Son of Salazar, that kiss! He had not been expecting it and he couldn't shake it from his mind or body. He'd had no intentions of ending it and stood dazed in his living room for quite some time after Hermione had left, before retreating to the shower. He had been hoping a wank would help him forget and realign his thoughts. It hadn't.
Draco picked up the purse and sneakers with a sigh. He'd floo to Harry and Ginny's and just leave the stuff with them. They could make sure Hermione was reunited with her things. Maybe if he kept himself free of her for another day, he'd be able to shake her from his system and get back to normal. Or he'd go through withdraw, like some sort of addict, begging for just one more hit...
Stepping out of the fireplace, Draco was faced with an empty living room and kitchen. Harry and Ginny must have seized on the alone time and gone for a late dinner.
"Leave them on the table," Draco muttered to himself, moving towards the kitchen table. "Put them down and leave. She'll find them."
But he could hear Hermione's footsteps above him, walking back and forth, opening and closing the closet door. The knowledge of her presence was like a magnetic pull and Draco found himself turning away from the table and making his way to the stairs. He paused at the door to the guest bedroom. It was slightly ajar, letting a strip of light illuminate the dim hallway. From the room, he could hear Hermione singing to herself.
"Tender is the night, lying by your side. Tender is the touch of someone that you love too much. Tender is my heart you know, I'm screwing up my life. Oh lord, I need to find, someone who can heal my mind."
Draco didn't know the song, but Hermione's soft singing made him want to. He gave the door two gentle knocks and waited until she called, "Come in," before slowly pushing it open.
Hermione was standing between the closet door and an open suitcase on the bed. She glanced up from the shirt she was folding and froze for a second as she watched Draco walk in and hold up the things she had left behind.
"Oh, thank you," she breathed, tossing the shirt into the suitcase and walking over to meet him. She tossed the shoes at the foot of the bed but clutched her purse to her chest. "I've been tearing the house apart looking for this!"
"I thought about bringing it by yesterday, but I didn't want to interrupt anything," Draco explained. Without anything in his hands, he suddenly felt awkward and shoved them into his pockets, shuffling his feet while he surveyed the room. "Packing already?"
"It's the only time I have between now and Sunday when I'm not busy with wedding stuff. Here, sorry, sit down," she said quickly, lifting her suitcase off the bed and setting it on the floor.
"I don't want to distract you and waste your packing time," Draco said, moving for the door.
"Nonsense, sit," Hermione said, motioning to the bed. "It's actually nice to finally have some company. Plus, I'm almost finished." She turned back to the closet and pulled another shirt from a hanger. Draco slipped his shoes off and sat down on the bed. "I assume you got your invite for tomorrow?"
"Uh, yeah. What's going on? It's the vaguest invitation I've ever received. Dress casually and be in Potter's kitchen by five?"
"What's so vague about that?"
Draco chuckled and shook his head. "You're not going to tell me, are you?"
"I've been sworn to secrecy," Hermione answered, closing the closet door and moving to the dresser. "I will say that it is all Ginny's doing. I'm just helping with the setup." She opened the top drawer and pulled out a few pairs of panties. "Oh! I almost forgot. I have something for you." She tossed the panties into her suitcase, hastily half-shut the drawer, and went back to the closet.
"For me? I haven't left anything here," Draco said, puzzled as he watched her stand on tiptoes to reach something in the top corner of the closet.
"I know," she said, her voice strained as she reached. He was about to offer her help, but she cried out, "Ah ha! Got it."
Hermione turned around with a large basket in hand, adorned with green and silver ribbons. She sat down on the bed and placed the basket in the middle. It was filled with a cache of sweets from Honeydukes.
"I saw that your secret stash of sweets was running low, so, happy birthday."
Draco stared at the basket of candy, speechless for the first time in a long some time. So many questions ran through his mind as he gingerly sifted through the assortment of Cauldron Cakes, and Ice Mice, and Chocoballs, and toffees, and just about everything else that was sold in the shop.
"Okay, first off," Draco said, finding his voice, "you really shouldn't have and thank you. But, how do you know about my stash of sweets? And, how did you know today's my birthday?"
"Well, first off, I'm happy to and you're welcome," she replied with a grin. "To answer your questions, I'm nosy and have a very good memory. I found your sweets when I went foraging for food in your kitchen, though I'm not sure who you're hiding them from."
"From snooping houseguests like you, obviously."
Hermione laughed. "Touche. As the day approached, I got the feeling that you didn't really make a big deal of the day, but I thought you should at least get something sweet."
"My mother tries to make a big deal out of it. I prefer to ignore it and just let it pass."
He picked up a tin of Crystallized Pineapple and turned it over in his hands. His mother and Potter were the only people that took notice of his birthday anymore and they both came to a reluctant understanding by now that Draco wanted nothing to do with the day. It was odd to now find himself pleased that Hermione was acknowledging the significance of the day.
"I understand," Hermione said. She inched up the bed and rested her back against the headboard. "Being an only child, my parents loved celebrating my birthday. I'm not very comfortable being the center of attention though, so I never asked for a big party. I was happy enough with the few presents from family and getting to pick a nice place for dinner. These days, I let Liz drag me out for a drink, but that's all she's allowed to do." She rested her head back and turned to Draco with a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I started rambling a bit there."
Draco popped the lid off the tin, plucked out a piece of pineapple, then held out the tin to Hermione.
"I don't mind," Draco said, as she gingerly took a sweet. "You still haven't answered my question though. How did you find out today was my birthday? Potter?"
Hermione shook her head and took a sudden interest in the Crystallized Pineapple.
"Granger?"
She gave him a worried glance, her bottom lip locked under her teeth.
"I'm not going to be upset because you know my birthday. It's not like it's privileged information. I'm just surprised that you know it."
"I know, it's just…" she trailed off with a heavy sigh. "I remember your birthday because I was helping go through and organize all the files of...of...Death Eaters, right after the war."
Draco cringed at the words. He could see how much Hermione disliked saying them and he hated hearing them just as much.
"When your family's trial came up, the files got sent to me to make sure all the information was correct and ready for the lawyers."
Draco chuckled as he bit off another chunk of pineapple candy. "I hate to resort to childhood habits, but you were shit at that job then. Somehow that file slipped through with my birth year wrong. A very fortunate accident because it helped my mother and I receive less harsh sentencing."
"It wasn't a fortunate accident," Hermione said quietly.
He put back the piece of candy he had just picked up and looked at her skeptically. She was still holding her piece of pineapple and nervously twisting it.
"I changed the year, before your trial," she admitted before Draco could press her for more information.
"But...why? You hated my family."
"It...I…" Hermione stumbled over her words. She finally put the sweet in her mouth and chewed thoughtfully for a minute before resuming her explanation. "I didn't hate you in the end. During the first few years of school, yes. You were a vile, spoiled, little prat that thought the sun shone out your ass."
"Don't sugarcoat it there, sweetheart," Draco mumbled. He capped the tin and placed it back in the basket.
"Oh, please. You know that that's exactly what eleven-year-old you were like." She laughed lightly and turned her head away from him. She stared straight ahead, with a distant look in her eyes. "Sixth year though, the hate had faded. Honestly, I felt sorry for you. It was obvious you weren't in a good place, but I never believed you were pulled in as deep as you were."
Draco bowed his head and closed his eyes. He had come to terms with his past transgressions, but the memories would always be there and he wasn't sure their sting would ever lessen. A soft touch made him force his eyes open and he was surprised to see Hermione's hand covering his. When he looked up, she was looking at him again, a comforting smile illuminating her face.
"The night we escaped from your manor when you wouldn't identify who we were even though you knew it was us...that night I knew you weren't the same pompous git that had strutted through the castle halls. You were just as scared as we were and I could see that you wanted it all to end just as quickly too."
Draco leaned back against the headboard and stared at the witch beside him.
"Why did you change my birthday?" he whispered.
"To save you from a fate you didn't deserve," she answered. "I knew their main arguments against you would be the attempts on Dumbledore's life. By changing your birth year from nineteen-eighty to eighty-one, it meant that at the time of his death you still weren't of age. I knew how much your mother wanted to protect you, so I put faith in her being able to think quick and make up a believable reason for why you started Hogwarts a year earlier than everyone else."
"Yeah, she did. She told them that, with my father's connections on the board, they were able to admit me early." Draco sat up a little straighter and looked down at Hermione. "If you didn't hate me, then why were you so hacked off with me when you first arrived?"
"I wasn't hacked off at you." Hermione sighed and scrubbed her hands over her face. "I was a nervous wreck to come back here because I knew I would have to face Ron, so I came with my defenses already built up. With the option of flight gone, I was in fight mode. Then you showed up, instead of Ron, and I had all this pent-up anger that needed to be unleashed. You just happened to be an easy target and right in the line of fire. I'm sorry for putting you in that position."
"Well, you've since put me in other, more pleasurable positions, so I'd say we've reached a pretty civil truce."
Hermione burst out laughing, making her curls bounce around her face. The laughter was contagious and Draco couldn't help laughing with her.
"Civil truce," Hermione repeated as she calmed her giggles. "How many 'civil truces' have you made across London?"
He knew her comment was all in jest, but something about hearing Hermione talk about his numerous shags made Draco feel shameful of his past. He never felt that way about his sex life before. Every occasion had been consensual and no one was getting hurt. That's what this current arrangement was supposed to be- a convenient, consensual fling. So why did he feel like shit now that it was coming to an end?
"You know, I'm sure that dance instructor would be interested in learning about your truces," Hermione said, bringing Draco back to the conversation. She didn't seem to notice his lack of engagement on the previous question.
"Yes, she made that quite clear this evening," Draco said. "If I ever develop a fetish for our Transfiguration teacher then I'll look her up."
"You got that vibe too?!" Hermione cried, her face lighting up in amusement. "I had that exact thought the first class." She moved up a few inches so that she could fall back and rest her head on the pillow. "Sorry I ditched the class tonight. Ginny's been a bit of a mother hen today and I needed a few quiet moments."
"Everything go okay last night?" Draco asked. The allure of the basket of sweets took hold and he fished out a chocolate frog.
"Yeah, better than I thought it would. It was difficult, but in the end, I think Ron and I are in a good place. Thanks for listening the other night. It really did help to get it all out before facing him."
"Happy to help. And I'm glad-"
"Oh!"
Draco was cut short when his chocolate frog took an unexpected leap onto Hermione's face. She reached up and peeled it off, holding it out to Draco as the chocolate started to harden.
He took it back, breaking a piece off for her. "He must have gotten an extra strong spell. Usually, they're only able to bounce for a second or two in the box.
Hermione giggled and shook her head. They ate their chocolate in content silence. Once Draco had finished his, he moved the basket to the floor and stretched out on the bed.
"Are you upset that I messed with your file?" Hermione asked, staring up at the ceiling.
"Hermione, you saved my life. I was prepared to rot half of my years away in Azkaban. Instead, they sentenced me to a few years in the Ministry and my mother to a year of house arrest. It was more than I ever could have hoped for so...thank you."
Draco paused for a moment and chanced a sideways glance. Hermione's eyelids were drooping and if he was going to get rid of the weight he'd been carrying around for a month, now was the time. He didn't know if he'd get her alone again and Merlin knew he wouldn't say it in front of Harry and Ginny.
"And, I'm sorry," Draco whispered.
"For what?" Hermione asked, sleepily.
"For all the shit I put you through in school, like that stupid tooth growing hex."
Hermione chuckled and shook her head. "A blessing in disguise. It let me get rid of those horrid buck teeth that my parents insisted 'gave me character'. As long as we're apologizing for past transgressions though, I'm sorry I punched you in third year."
"Don't be," Draco said, shooting her a devilish smirk as he tucked his hands under his head. "That's how I realized I like being smacked around by strong women."
She let out a sleepy laugh and reached her hand out to him. "All past sins forgiven?"
Draco took her hand and gave it a gentle shake.
"Forgiven."
He went to pull his hand away, but Hermione didn't let go. A soft snore signaled that she had already fallen asleep. Draco rolled onto his side and let their hands settle onto the mattress before giving his own tired eyes some respite.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
"Hermione? Are you listening?"
Hermione's head whipped up at the sound of her best friend shouting her name. She found Ginny standing directly across the table from her, the expression on her face caught somewhere between worried and irritated.
"I'm sorry Gin, I wasn't," Hermione admitted with a sigh, pushing her inappropriate Draco daydream to the back of her mind. With a swish of her wand, a silver lid appeared over the platter of sandwich fixings and a tap surrounded it with a cooling charm. "What were you saying?"
"Were you able to get it?" Ginny asked.
"Oh, yes, I put it over with the others. Does Harry have any idea what you've set up?"
"Not a clue," Ginny said, grinning and clutching her hands in front of her. She looked as giddy as a child eyeing up their Christmas gifts. "And is it ever driving him mental! Our special guests should be arriving any moment."
No sooner had the words left Ginny's lips when a blue light erupted several meters away. Oliver Wood, Katie Bell, and Dean Thomas had just been portkeyed to midfield of the Holyhead Harpies' grounds and were striding across the pitch, each one carrying a broomstick and shouting out greetings.
Ginny had had a last minute idea to skip a formal rehearsal dinner and instead surprise her soon-to-be husband with a Quidditch match. Apparently, Harry had been talking a lot lately about missing his Hogwarts Quidditch days. So she had gotten permission to use the Harpies' stadium and secretly invited several of his old schoolmates to join in.
"Where's Seamus?" Ginny asked, wrapping Dean in a hug.
"He's sick and I made him stay home," Dean explained. "He wanted me to let you know that he wanted to come but his husband is a stubborn bastard and won't let him have any fun." Dean sighed and shook his head. "I apologize for being a stubborn bastard, but I didn't think anyone else needed to witness his vomiting."
After he and Ginny had broken up, Dean came to a few realizations about who he actually wanted to share his life with. He and Seamus Finnigan married the previous year and were now anxiously awaiting approval to adopt an eight-month-old little boy.
"I think everything is ready," Luna called, from behind.
Hermione turned back to the table and let her gaze sweep over the potluck dishes adorning it. Molly and Arthur were placing covers on the last few dishes, along with warming or cooling spells. Fleur was blocking Victoire and Freddy from devouring the entire plate of strawberries. Gwenog, Alicia, and Angelina were sat together, polishing their own brooms while they chatted about Quidditch.
"Great! We just need the guys now." Ginny glanced at her watch. "Five more minutes. Hopefully, they all got their butts to the cottage on time."
Hermione nervously chewed on her bottom lip. That morning with Draco had been slightly awkward, in that it hadn't felt awkward at all. She had woken up slowly, still fully clothed, snuggled against his side. Her stirring had roused him awake and he simply pulled her closer as he yawned and stretched his legs.
They had taken their time rolling out of bed and down to the kitchen, not saying much at all, just content with the other's company. Harry and Ginny came down as they were eating breakfast and, aside from some few curious side-eyed glances, just sat down and joined them for breakfast like it was an everyday, normal occurrence.
Another blue flash in the midfield and seven figures appeared, wobbling slightly before regaining their balance and looking around. Harry finally caught sight of Ginny and jogged over to her, followed by Draco, Charlie, George, Ron, Bill, and Percy.
"What are we doing here?" Harry asked when he reached Ginny.
"We're going to hold a ceremonial goat sacrifice, to ensure good luck on our wedding day," Ginny answered. Harry's face fell, along with the faces of his groomsmen, and Ginny broke out laughing. "What do you think we're doing, ya goof? We're gonna play Quidditch!"
"But, we didn't bring our brooms."
Ginny pointed to a line of brooms. "Don't worry, your girls did."
"Hold up," Draco said, walking over and picking up his broom. "How did you get mine? I don't have a..." He trailed off when he saw Hermione give him a little wave. "Sneaky witches," he muttered.
"You all get so broody when you reminisce about your Quidditch days, so I thought it'd be fun to invite a few other former teammates and have a proper match or two," Ginny said, motioning to Oliver, Katie, and Dean.
"Brilliant!" Harry exclaimed. He ran over to the former Gryffindors and gave them all hugs. As the old teammates took a few minutes to catch up, Hermione hung back with Gwenog and Luna.
"Hello, Mr. Malfoy," Gwenog muttered. "That man should go casual more often."
Hermione stayed quiet, but couldn't help but silently agree with Gwenog. Draco looked good. Really good. It was the first Hermione had seen him in anything other than his formal work clothes and he wore them well. He had donned a pair of denim trousers, with a snug fitting, white t-shirt. It was simple but quite effective in making Hermione feel like there was an army of fairies fluttering in her stomach.
"Gin," Gwenog hissed, waving the youngest Weasley over. "When did Draco Malfoy get so hot?" she whispered.
Ginny grinned and looked at Hermione. "When he stopped be a stuck-up prat."
"He looks quite fine in those jeans."
"You should talk to Min about how fine he looks out of those jeans."
"Ginny!" Hermione cried, heat rushing into her cheeks when several faces turned to stare at her.
"Granger, you minx," Gwenog said approvingly.
"Oh, God," Hermione groaned. She covered her face with her hands, but not before catching Draco's wink.
"Are we gonna gossip all night or play?" Ron called.
"Don't run off after the game, Granger. I have questions that need answering," Gwenog said before heading over to the group.
"You're not the only one," Hermione sighed, following along.
"Alright, let's start picking teams." Ginny summoned a box to her feet and pulled out two jerseys- one scarlet and gold, the other green and silver. "Thought we could reignite that old Gryffindor/Slytherin rivalry," she said, throwing Harry and Draco their respective colors. "Choose your squads, captains."
"Ginevra, you know none of this lot is going to want to be a Slytherin," Draco said, slipping his jersey on, over his t-shirt
"I'll join your team, Malfoy," George announced, walking over to Draco's side as Ginny threw a green jersey at his head. Draco's face actually lit up for a brief second when George gave him a friendly thump in the shoulder.
"Right then. Ron, Keeper?" Harry said. Ron nodded and stepped to Harry's side and caught a scarlet jersey.
"Angelina, would you like to join your husband?" Draco asked.
"You know it. Slytherin me, Gin," Angelina called.
"That doesn't sound dirty at all," Ginny laughed, throwing a jersey to Angelina.
They went back and forth like this for another minute or two until Harry had a full team, which included Charlie and Gwenog as Beaters and Dean, Katie, and Fleur as Chasers. Oliver went on to be Draco's Keeper, with Bill joining George as the second Beater, and Alicia taking the second Chaser role. Draco was left scouring the crowd, trying to decide on his final Chaser.
"Alright Weaslette, suit up," Draco said, waving Ginny over. But Ginny didn't budge.
"I'm not playing. I'm the referee," she said, shooting Draco a knowing look.
"Right, sorry. Granger, grab a jersey. You'll have to do."
Hermione burst out laughing but quickly stopped when Draco crooked his finger at her, beckoning her to his team.
"I don't know if you've noticed, Malfoy, but I don't play Quidditch. Plus, I'm not exactly wearing appropriate Quidditch attire," Hermione said, running her hands over the skirt of her dress.
Draco let out a heavy sigh and strolled over to her, grabbing the last green jersey from Ginny on the way. When he reached her, he pulled his wand from his back pocket and pointed it at her. Before Hermione could protest, he had transfigured her floral sundress into a pair of floral Capri leggings, leaving her topless and gobsmacked, while the other guests gasped and quickly turned around or started inspecting their shoelaces.
"Better?" Draco asked.
"No, that's not better!" Hermione hissed snatching the shirt from his hand and throwing it over her head.
"Should've warned me you weren't wearing a bra."
"I should've-you don't-why would-arg!" Coherent sentences failed her so she slapped him on the shoulder.
"I regret nothing. Now," Draco said, summoning a broom. "let's go."
"Seriously, I will drag your team down. You'd be better off with anyone else."
"Look who I have left," Draco said, leaning in and speaking low. "There's Percy and Luna. I'd be lucky if Lovegood even stayed in the stadium for five minutes before she flew off scouting for Rinkydink Snargalumps. And perfect prefect there would spend the match lecturing us on broom regulations of the United Kingdom. I just need you to fill the seventh position."
Hermione sighed and finally relented. "Fine, as long as you're not expecting actual skill from me on the field."
"Consider my expectations lowered," he said and started walking off to midfield, with his own broom resting on his shoulder. Hermione rolled her given broom in her hands. Hesitantly, she swung a leg over it and gently sat down. She could feel the magic start to hum under her fingertips and lifted her legs slightly, letting the broom hover in place. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. She leaned forward with a confident smile. Her smile lasted a full second before the broom zoomed forward.
Hermione let out a shriek as she flew through the air. She quickly pulled up, but only ended up overcorrecting and falling backward off the broom. She landed on her back, knocking the wind out of her. When Draco's smirking face appeared above her, she let out a groan.
"When exactly was the last time you flew?" he asked.
"A few years ago," Hermione mumbled, pushing herself to a sitting position.
"A broom?"
"The dragon, out of Gringotts."
"Bloody hell, Granger." Draco held out his hand and helped pull her to her feet. "Maybe I would be better off with Lovegood."
"Hey, I warned you!"
"Yeah, yeah. Just listen for a moment." Draco started giving her a rudimentary lesson on controlling the broom and tips on flying smoothly so that she didn't fall on her arse again. "When in doubt, just fly around the edges of the pitch and stay away from the bludgers. You'll be fine."
Hermione had her doubts but didn't voice them as she followed Draco to midfield where Ginny was waiting with the trunk of balls.
"Captains, shake hands," Ginny instructed.
Draco reached across and took Harry's hand. "Scared, Potter?" he said, giving Harry's hand a shake.
"You wish," Harry answered, his lips lifting in a cocky grin.
"Players, mount your brooms," Ginny called, kicking the trunk so that the lid sprang open. She unclasped the smallest door and the tiny, golden Snitch whizzed out. It circled their heads once, before disappearing across the pitch.
"On my whistle. Three, two, one." Ginny let out a sharp blast of her whistle and everyone kicked off, soaring swiftly and gracefully into the sky as Ginny released the Bludgers.
Hermione was slower to gain altitude, Draco's instructions running through her mind. She was so intent on practicing her maneuvering that she was completely oblivious of George coming up behind her until he yelled out, "Duck, Min!"
Hermione flattened herself onto the broom as a Bludger roared over her head, with George right behind it. With an effortless swing, he connected and sent the ball screaming to the other side of the pitch.
Following Draco's advice, she stayed low and off to the sides, watching the action unfold above her. It was actually a comforting sight. The adopted Slytherins were falling into their roles seamlessly, shouting out insults and taunts. At one point, George even started singing a round of Weasley is Our King. Ron was not impressed and once his brother's back was turned, he kicked the incoming Quaffle straight into the back of George's head. Ginny was quick to call a foul.
"Foul?! Bollocks!" Ron yelled. "I was only making the save. Not my fault his big head was in the way!"
Ginny wasn't swayed and Angelina took the foul shot, putting another ten points on the board for their team. Normal play resumed and made Ron only more fierce about protecting his hoops.
"Hermione! Heads up!"
Hermione looked up just in time to see Alicia being surrounded by Dean, Katie, and Fleur, and the Quaffle falling straight towards her. Without thinking, Hermione let go of the broom and caught the odd shaped ball.
"Go, go!" Alicia yelled. The three Chasers had turned away from her and now had their sights set on Hermione.
Leaning forward, Hermione urged her broom forward and dipped a bit lower, setting her sights on the three goals across the pitch. Bill swooped over and aimed a Bludger at her pursuers. Dean splintered off and Fleur yelled something in French but didn't let up on her chase. Bill laughed and called, "Love you, too!"
The hoops were getting closer and Hermione leaned lower, coaxing the broom to go faster. As if reading her mind, the broomstick picked up the pace and before she knew it, Hermione was circling the base of the hoops. She wasn't quite sure if there was any logic to her current tactics, but it did seem to do the trick of irritating Ron.
"Give it up Min. You're not getting it past me." He continued to hover above her, not daring to go more than a few meters away from the goals.
"How much you want to bet?"
"Are you serious?"
"I bet you two Galleons that I can score a goal," Hermione taunted, holding the Quaffle above her head. She dipped low as Katie zoomed over her head and then had to change direction from one of George's well-aimed Bludgers.
"Deal. Easiest gold I'll ever make."
Ron dove down. Just as his outstretched hand neared the ball, Hermione tucked it close and shot upwards, like a bullet, and chucked the Quaffle through the center ring. Her fellow teammates erupted in cheers and claps.
"Ron!" Charlie yelled. "Don't go easy on her!"
"I wasn't! She deceived me with inexperience!"
"That makes absolutely no sense. Get your head in the game!"
"I expect payment after we win this," Hermione said before setting off.
Scoring her first goal gave Hermione a new level of comfort on the broomstick. How had she been so apprehensive of this all these years? She rationalized that, back in school, she was so concerned with what her peers would say. The other students already teased her about her hair, and teeth, and for being too smart. She wasn't about to make a fool of herself on a broom and add more fodder for their ridiculing.
But, now, surrounded by friends, that worry was long gone. Even Draco, who had tormented her the most in the past, didn't care that she had fallen on her arse and had no clue what she was doing. He had simply helped her up and, very kindly, told her what to do.
Soaring through the air, she now knew why Harry had been so fond of flying. There was a serene sense of freedom, flying above everything and only having to really worry about one thing. Far from perfect, Hermione got turned around and confused a few times, but she had fun and was even able to score two more goals, much to her ex-husband's chagrin.
As she was celebrating a difficult save by Oliver, a glint of gold caught Hermione's eye. A second later a blur of scarlet and green streaked by. Harry and Draco were simultaneously reaching for the Snitch while shoving each other back and forth. Bill smacked a Bludger towards Harry, but Harry leaned into his rival Seeker and let the Bludger fly past. George reached the Bludger and hit it back. Unfortunately for Harry, his back was turned and George had the same impeccable aim he'd had during his Hogwarts' days.
The Bludger clipped the handle of Harry's broom, sending him into a spin and allowing Draco to surge forward and wrap his hand around the Snitch. Ginny blew her whistle, signaling the end of the game, and Draco held the Snitch victoriously over his head.
The hodgepodge of Slytherins circled the pitch in a victory lap and then headed back for the ground. Hermione suddenly became aware that she wasn't very confident in her stopping ability. She pulled up and the broom jerked, causing her to hastily lean forward again, making the broom zoom ahead.
"Easy, Granger," Draco shouted from the ground. "Just do a normal descent. Don't try stopping until you're lower."
Hermione took a deep breath and aimed the broom low, starting a gradual descent. As she got closer, she started slowly pulling up again.
"Okay, slow it down," Draco called, waving her in. "Slow, Granger. Slower…"
Hermione continued to ease herself up, but she hesitated, not wanting to be thrown off the broom again.
"Granger, slow!" Draco shouted. "Hermione! St-"
He never got to finish his command as Hermione crash directly into him. She was flung forward and landed directly on top of Draco.
"I need to practice stopping," Hermione mumbled into his chest.
"You don't say," Draco groaned. "I like being in this position a lot more when we're both naked."
"Sweet Godric's ghost," Hermione sighed, rolling off Draco and staring up at the fading sunlight. She let out a giggle, which turned into two, and they continued to multiply until she was lying on the grass, laughing hysterically.
"You've completely lost the plot," Draco muttered, pushing himself up to a sitting position. Hermione sat up and caught him staring at her. His lips curved up in a crooked smile and he said, "You should wear green more often. It brings out the hazel flecks in your eyes."
With that, he jumped to his feet and sauntered off to join the others raiding the table of food. Hermione slumped back against the ground and let out a small, defeated whimper. What was this man doing to her?!
'One more day,' she told herself. 'Get through one more day and your life can go back to normal.'
A/N- Yay! The site is back up. Tried to post this the other night but FFN was having some issues. Anywho, apologies (again!) for the wait between chapters. It's hard when you can't really set a writing schedule between chasing after kiddos and other real-life obligations *sigh* On a good note, 2 out of 3 kids are now back at school, so once our house recovers from the hurricane that is summer vacation I'm hoping to have more writing time.
Also, realized that I haven't been crediting my songs. The song used in this chapter is called Tender, by Blur, and it's from their album 13.