AN: Right, so. Not dead?

I don't want to do that cliché author excuse for taking so long to update, but I will apologize that I was gone for so long. There were a lot of personal reasons for my hiatus that were unavoidable, but things have settled down, and I'm hoping I'll be able to return to some sort of normal posting schedule again.

Thank you to everyone who left reviews, I read each and every one and loved them all. You guys are the reason I keep posting 3 As always, let me know what you think, and thanks so much for reading! Oh, and sorry for rushing the quidditch scenes a bit. I have a really hard time writing those for some reason.

-..-

The first match was surprisingly quick. Ginny had stacked her team with superior chasers; she, Angelina Johnson, and Katie Bell easily dominated the pitch. Their years of experience playing together on Gryffindor's team made it nearly impossible for Draco's team to get their hands on the quaffle. Unfortunately, she had been a bit desperate for a seeker. Poor Anthony Rickett hadn't stood a chance against Draco. His only experience was as a beater for Hufflepuff, and he hadn't really played much since he'd graduated. Draco had no trouble flying him in circles around the pitch.

Despite Ginny's chasers having almost complete ownership of the quaffle, Draco caught the snitch before they could score enough points to really make a difference. Ginny had politely shaken his hand, but her annoyance over losing was written clearly across her face. Hermione grinned as she watched her cross the pitch and say something quite bitter to Harry, no doubt telling him to wreck Draco and avenge her team.

Draco made his way up into the stands, his hands shoved into his pockets and a cocky smirk on his face. Hermione could already tell this win would make him insufferable during the next match.

"Congratulations," Hermione said. She kissed his cheek and smiled when she felt his arms wrap tightly around her.

"She could be a pro at quidditch, but you can't underestimate a good seeker." He grinned at her, his eyes nearly glowing with victory. "They make all the difference."

"They certainly do," Pansy agreed. She wasn't looking at Draco, however. Her eyes were glued to the pitch where Harry and Blaise were beginning their match.

Luna nodded in agreement. "Being good with your hands is a desirable trait after all." When Pansy looked at her in shock, she added, "In a seeker. Unless you're Harry and can catch it with your mouth."

Pansy's shock turned to a sly grin. "So you're saying he's good with his mouth and his hands."

Already disliking where this conversation was going, Hermione turned to Draco and tried to ignore the other witches. The last thing she needed to think about was Harry using his mouth or hands for anything other than quidditch. She pulled her cloak tighter around herself and tried not to let her discomfort show.

Draco, however, took this to mean she was cold and produced a scarf from Merlin knows where. He wrapped it around her neck, mindful that it wasn't too tight, and then pulled her back into his arms.

She was about to thank him when she noticed the color of the scarf. It was faded from years of being worn, but the emerald and silver stripes stood out clearly against her black cloak. "Did you just put a Slytherin scarf on a Gryffindor?"

"I did," Draco said. He tugged one end of the scarf and smiled. "And she wears it quite well."

Hermione rolled her eyes but didn't remove the scarf.

Luna noticed the faded school colors and asked, "I thought you said you weren't going to wear any green, Hermione?"

Hermione tucked her face further into the warm fabric to hide her blush and glared at Luna. She could feel Draco shaking against her, no doubt in silent laughter, but she said nothing. She was too distracted by the scent that had filled her nose. The scarf must have been sprayed with his cologne. Cinnamon and sandalwood and…

Feeling eyes on her, Hermione looked up and found Draco staring down at her. He was looking at her in that way that made her toes curl and her stomach flip. Like she was the only person in the entire world.

"If you are quite finished reading one another's souls and trying to mentally shag each other," Pansy groused from behind her. "It's a bit hard to watch strapping young men play quidditch when I've got the pair of you making me nauseous."

"Is it nausea or jealousy?" Luna smiled sweetly at Pansy. "Might be both."

"Whose side are you on," Pansy demanded.

Rather than answer, Luna rose from her seat and drifted aimlessly through the stands. Possibly to find her girlfriend, possibly to find one of her magical creatures. It was anyone's guess, really.

Pansy shook her head as she watched her go and muttered crossly, "I hate all of you."

"No you don't," Draco said confidently. "You spend far too much time with me to hate me."

Pansy glared at him then turned her attention back to the quidditch match. Her eyes were trained on what looked to be one specific player, but Draco stole Hermione's attention before she could find out which one.

"Are you going to stay for my next match?" He had his arm draped lightly over her shoulder, his tone carefully nonchalant, but she could see the eagerness in the way he looked at him.

Men and their sports, she thought in amusement. "You mean, am I going to sit in the cold until the wee hours of the morning to watch fully grown adults play like children?" She grinned at him and bumped her shoulder against his side. "I wouldn't miss it."

Whatever he was going to say was interrupted by the start of the next match. Harry and Blaise's teams took to the air, and Hermione couldn't help the excitement she felt. Quidditch had never held much interest for her, but watching Harry play brought up the best kind of nostalgia. She looked eagerly over to the goal posts, and her smile slide slowly from her face.

There was a ginger there, hovering by the hoops, but it was the wrong ginger.

Without realizing it, Hermione had been looking for Ron, and she felt a heavy disappointment at not finding him in his Keeper position. Her heart squeezed tight, and she rubbed her chest absentmindedly. She missed the way they used to be, the unbreakable Golden Trio.

Draco squeezed her a bit tighter. He rubbed a hand up and down her arm, something that could easily be disguised as him trying to warm her up, but she knew it was probably meant to comfort her. She smiled gratefully at him and tried to push her melancholy aside. It didn't do to dwell on things that might have been. Looking back to the pitch, Hermione looked once more to see who was playing.

Charlie, apparently the ginger head of hair she had seen by the hoops, had joined Harry's team as a keeper. Hermione had never seen him play before, but she assumed he carried the same quidditch playing gene as the rest of his siblings and expected him to be quite good.

"Thinking about casting another confundus charm?"

Pansy's question startled her, and it took a moment for Hermione to realize what she was referring to. "How do you know about that?"

"Please," Pansy scoffed. "Everyone at Hogwarts knew Weasley had beat McCormac for the keeper position. The ponce wouldn't shut up about it."

"That was tryouts," she said defensively. "It hardly mattered."

"Try telling McCormac that."

Hermione frowned and looked back towards the pitch. "He deserved it."

"And then some," Pansy agreed. "Didn't help that Weasley ego, though."

"They don't all have one." Hermione looked towards Ginny who was sulking with her team and looked to be complaining to Luna about her loss. "Well, some of them don't."

Pansy nodded towards the end of the pitch where Charlie was guarding the hoops. "What about that one?"

Hermione knew she was trying to sound nonchalant. Her facial expression was carefully blank, and there was nothing about her tone or inflection that would belay any sort of interest in the ginger wizard. But the fact that Pansy Parkinson had asked about a Weasley was enough to pique Hermione's curiosity.

"What about him?"

Pansy huffed at having to repeat herself and asked, "Does that one have an ego?"

"Well, he lives in Romania and spends all day wrangling dragons," Hermione mused, "so I would assume if he has one, he's probably earned it."

Pansy's eyebrows raised at the mention of dragons, and she gave Charlie an appraising look. "Wrangling dragons… How interesting."

Hermione watched Pansy for a few more minutes and carefully filed away her observations for later. If her interactions with Draco and Theo had taught her anything, it was best to let a Slytherin think they were acting on their own without anyone noticing.

Overall, Blaise's team did a decent job holding their own against Harry's. The match wasn't over quite as quickly as Ginny and Draco's, but it was obvious that there was a skill difference between the two. Even if Harry didn't have the superior seeker skills, they would've won. Blaise's chasers were so uncoordinated they couldn't manage to avoid running into each other, let alone dodge the bludgers. It was a sound beating.

Before Blaise even had time to lick his wounds, Draco was up and ready for the next match. He secured the scarf more snuggly around her neck and asked, "Who are you cheering for?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows and said, "Oh, I wasn't really planning on cheering for anyone."

Draco frowned at her and leaned down until they were almost nose-to-nose. "I would hope my witch would cheer for me rather than some random bloke."

"That random bloke happens to be my best friend," she pointed out. The closeness of his face to hers was making her cheeks color. She hoped it would look like her face was just pink from the cold. "Maybe I could use a little incentive."

"Is that so?" Draco gripped the scarf a little tighter and slowly smiled at her. "It doesn't take much to get you to call my name, Hermione. Doing so for quidditch shouldn't be that difficult."

Hermione ran a hand down his chest and hummed thoughtfully. "If you want me yelling your name," she said slowly, "you're going to have to make me."

Draco pulled her in by the scarf and kissed her fiercely. His other hand slid up to cup her jaw, and she couldn't help the quiet sigh of contentment that escaped her. "You're going to be the death of me, witch."

Blaise shoved past the both of them and snarled, "You're both going to make me vomit if you don't quit your shite. Your team's waiting on you, lover boy."

Hermione blushed and realized just how many people in the stands were looking at them. She stepped back from him and patted down her cloak.

Draco flipped Blaise off and grabbed his broom. "Don't be jealous, Zabini, it's an ugly color."

Already seeing a fight brewing, Hermione began pushing Draco in the direction of the stairs. "Go, go. The sooner you play, the sooner I can go to bed."

"Only if it's with me." Draco winked at her and then quickly made his way to the pitch.

Hermione resumed her seat by Pansy and tried not to fidget at she felt the witch's eyes on her.

"You're both disgusting," Pansy said. "And I mean that as a compliment."

"Thank you?" Hermione saw Blaise roll his eyes, but Pansy was smiling genuinely at her which made her feel a bit better. PDA was not something she was usually very comfortable with, especially in front of all their old schoolmates. Their relationship was by no means a secret, but that didn't make her anymore comfortable to have an audience.

"Ignore them." Pansy was looking once more at the pitch, but she bumped her knee gently against Hermione's. "They only stare because they're jealous."

Hermione highly doubted that was the case, but she appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.

Harry and Draco's team took to the pitch, and the anticipation of the crowd reached an all-new high. The idea of two old school rivals facing off once more had them all buzzing with excitement.

Hermione tried to watch the match, she really did, but after fifteen or so minutes of watching the same slightly tipsy adults fly around on their brooms, her mind began to wonder.

A few weeks ago she had caught Jacob at White Wolf Designs giving himself a tattoo. While it wasn't entirely unheard of for tattoo artists to give themselves tattoos, it had still taken Hermione by surprise. After all, she and Miranda were perfectly capable of giving him a tattoo if he hadn't wanted to pay for one; although, Miranda was most definitely out of practice. Seeing him carefully work on a new addition to his calf and given Hermione that itch again. She had so much empty skin left, and a lot of it was within reach of her own hand…

"Come on Draco!"

Pansy's shouting startled her from her thoughts, and Hermione looked up to find Draco and Harry in a nose-to-nose race for the snitch. She was immediately reminded of their second year as they sped across the pitch, and she jumped to her feet. She had never been one to shout at sporting events, but she couldn't help murmuring encouragements under her breath.

"So close, Draco, come on."

The stands collectively held their breath as Draco and Harry both reached out their hands, the snitch just inches from their fingertips.

The snitch vanished, Harry raised his fist in the air, and the crowd went wild. Harry's team raced to the ground to meet him, and Hermione applauded with everyone else.

"Every damn time," Pansy grumbled beside her, arms crossed over her chest. "I swear to Salazar, Potter's got some sort of spiritual connection with snitches."

"I thought his patronus would be a snitch when he first cast it," Hermione joked. "Or maybe a broom."

Pansy grinned at her. "More like a lion riding a broom."

"Wouldn't that be a sight."

Hermione returned her smile. "Come on, then. I should probably go find where Draco's sulking."

Pansy nodded her head towards the pitch. "You don't have to look far."

Draco hadn't even gotten off his broom. He flew straight to the stands, hopped off his broom, and swept Hermione up into a tight hug. He buried his face into her neck and began grumbling about "shite Gryffindors" and "damned bias snitches". He was followed by a triumphantly grinning Harry.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh. "Draco, darling, it's just a game."

Draco reared back and looked scandalized. "Just a game," he demanded. He looked to Harry and said, "The audacity of this witch, Potter, she said it's just a game."

"Just a game or not, you lost fair and square, Malfoy." Harry patted Draco on the back "Drinks are on me!"

"Absolutely not." Hermione was already shaking her head before he could finish speaking. "We have been awake far too long as it is."

The group groaned, several arguments and complaints being made, but she crossed her arms and glared at them. Half a lecture was already primed and ready.

"Just like the old days," Harry said. He threw an arm over Ginny's shoulders. "Don't worry, mum, I'll get her home at a respectable hour."

"Respectable has long since passed, Mr. Potter." Minerva joined them, the trunk of quidditch equipment floating behind her. "I am inclined to agree with Ms. Granger. You've had your fun, but your days as rambunctious students are gone."

Hermione felt a bit forlorn as she heard this. She certainly didn't miss her awkward teenage years or any of the horrors that occurred during her years at Hogwarts, but she wouldn't mind revisiting some of the fonder times. Which, she supposed, is exactly what had happened. Despite the dim light of dawn creeping over the horizon and the clear disregard for the actual students living there, the alumni around her had been able to relive at least one night of fun at Hogwarts. That was worth a little cold wind and a little less sleep, wasn't it?

Despite that, she couldn't help the yawn that overtook her, fierce enough to make her eyes water and her jaw creak. She heard Draco chuckling quietly beside her and blinked blearily up at him. When had she gotten so tired?

"I'm sorry for keeping you up so late," he said quietly.

"S'alright." She smiled at him and tucked herself into his side, humming at the warmth that seeped through his cloak and into hers. "It's Harry's fault, really."

Draco wrapped an arm around her and rested his chin on the top of her head. "And here I was thinking I was the only bloke able to tire you out."

Hermione pulled her head back so she could properly glare at him. "I don't appreciate that implication."

"Neither do I." Harry was looking at both of them with his nose wrinkled in disgust. "That's right nasty, mate. Mione's like a sister to me."

"She started it," Draco said with a shrug.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Real mature of you."

"Maturity is certainly not the theme of the night," Minerva interrupted them. Her tone was stern, but her eyes glittered with mirth. "It's been a pleasure to see you all, but I'm afraid you've overstayed your welcome. I would like to sleep at least a bit before breakfast, so I will ask you only once more to kindly leave my school before I'm forced to summon Madam Hooch and inform her that you were trespassing on her precious pitch."

The group blanched. No matter how old they got, nothing could threaten them quite as well as the wrath of Rolanda Hooch. They quickly said their goodbyes to Minerva and each other and then apparated to their respective homes - Hermione tagging along with Draco to his flat. The exhaustion of the night swept over them, and they barely managed to kick off their shoes before collapsing into bed.