"I can't believe they're playing in this weather."
Malfoy leaned against the front window and looked out through the sheeting rain that blurred everything. "It's Quidditch," he replied, as if that explained the insanity.
"Well, they're all going to catch pneumonia at this rate," she predicted as she reached into the paper bag of miniature mince pies and took a second helping, savouring the spices and currents across her tongue as she bit down. These little treats were addicting…and each as fattening as eating a pound of lard.
She'd just walk it off later, when the weather improved.
"There's not much to see, even pressed against the window as you are."
His shoulders lifted and quickly dropped again, as if that also explained everything he needed to say on the matter.
"Alright, stay there while I finish off the snacks you brought."
"Save me one," he said and turned his head as someone flashed by the window at full speed. "Ooh, I think Potter's seen the Snitch!"
"What?"
Setting her half-eaten pie aside, she got up and raced to the window to stand beside Malfoy.
"Where is he?"
He pointed off to the right, but Hermione couldn't spy her friend in the downpour. It truly was raining dragons and griffins out there.
Lighting flashed suddenly, striking the center of the pitch with a cascading, 'BOOM!' Hermione jumped.
"We shouldn't be standing in front of the window. That's foolish."
"It's warded," Malfoy reminded her. "We're safe."
She tugged on his jumper as she backed away. "Still, I'd feel a lot better if you came away from the window."
He followed, reluctantly, while keeping an eye on the action outside. "What will you give me if sit back down with you?"
"Respect."
The lightning flashed somewhere outside again. Hermione let out an, "Oh!" of surprise and tugged at him harder to get him to move away from the window, wards or not. Some things were just instinctual, and a healthy deference to nature was one of them.
Unfortunately, she tripped as she stepped backwards…and she pulled Malfoy over with her.
They landed in a heap on her big, cozy chair, him half turned and draped over her as she was pressed back into the cushions. Their faces were only inches apart, his chest was crushed to hers, and one of his knees was wedged in tight between her legs.
For a moment, they both froze, unsure of what to do. Their positioning was awkward, and yet Hermione felt her blood was warmer than she could ever remember it and her heart was pounding under her ribs…
"You have mince pie in your hair."
It took a second for his words, uttered in a soft, lover's tone, to sink in.
"W-What?"
"You fell on your pie, Granger."
He snerked and then started laughing, right in her face.
Rather than let her immense mortification take charge, Hermione calmly reached behind her with one hand, grabbed a gob of mince pie filling, and brought it forth for them both to consider. When Malfoy's laughter doubled, as she knew it would, she proceeded to rub it all through his hair. Just so they'd be even.
"You little mink," he said and grabbed for the paper bag containing the remaining mince pies.
This prompted a food fight between them that culminated in them both being covered in sweet goo scented of nutmeg and cinnamon, and their clothing, hair, hands, and faces ruined for it.
Thank goodness the box had a shower, was all Hermione could think in between bouts of peeling laughter.
As they sat in their respective chairs in the aftermath, both giggling like silly gooses and totally ignoring the fact that the game and the storm were long-since over, Hermione realized for the first time that food could be fun…with the right person.
~.~.~.~.~
Hermione threw in the towel: her diet was officially ruined.
The moment she stepped foot in Puddlemere's private Quidditch box, he was always there like some Pied Piper of snacks to tempt her with some scrumptious treat while they watched either an official match or an exhibition home game. Seven games and she'd gained six pounds as a result…and there was still five months left to go in the season!
Her mother was going to take one look at her and gloat.
Fortunately, the next two games would be away, which gave her a reprieve as she never went to those matches. She could use that time to work out and sweat off some poundage…without Malfoy around to tempt her.
For some odd reason, that thought made her feel glum, not invigorated.
~.~.~.~.~
A letter arrived at her window the week before the next match, delivered by the world's most obnoxious eagle owl. In its claws was a note from its owner, the world's most obnoxious Slytherin git, who had somehow over the last several months, by means of some creative culinary tribute, become her friend…and a baffling fascination.
Granger,
As a result of a last minute cancellation by that sod, Zabini, I've found myself in possession of two private box seat tickets for the next game in Karasjok, Norway against the Karasjok Kites. Would you like to have it?
Don't take too long to RSVP, or I might be forced to ask Nott to go instead, and he's far less fun to tease.
~Draco
P.S. I'll bring the apple slices.
She sighed at such childishness and penned a reply.
Malfoy,
I expect a far better selection of snacks if I'm to tolerate a portkey trip and you for an entire afternoon.
~Hermione
As the owl flew off, she realized her work-out plans would have to be put on holiday until after the New Year.
~.~.~.~.~
It was nearly noon and time for lunch, and Malfoy had yet to appear in the private box he'd reserved for the away game.
Hermione's stomach rumbled as loudly as the pre-game announcements coming in through the megaphone. It didn't help they were advertising the concession stand's offerings of spit-turned bangers and cheesy chips, cinnamon churros and meat pies.
God, she was starving! Where was that git?
Didn't he know she was waiting on him…and his promised snacks?
True, the teams weren't out on the field yet and the stadium was only half full as the game didn't technically start until one, but still, he'd invited her to travel all the way across the channel and he couldn't be bothered to send her a note to make sure she'd arrived unsplinched?
"Totally rude," she harrumphed, crossing her arms and sulking.
"I know," he said from behind her as he rounded the row and plunked his bum down in the seat next to her. "Zabini was such a whiny wanker about being forced to give up his ticket."
She stared at him. "Your note said Zabini cancelled."
His mouth did that thing where it turned up at the ends with a devious, little twist and Hermione's heart suddenly started beating uncontrollably again…much as it had the last afternoon they'd spent together watching Quidditch and he'd brought in fried calamari rings with dipping sauce for them to share.
The man had a way of making her body go haywire with the smallest gestures.
"How was your trip?" he asked
"Uneventful." Where are my snacks? "Yours?"
His grin widened. "Bumpy, but I survived. Thanks for asking. Where are you staying?"
"A hotel."
"Funny coincidence. Me, too."
"You mean you're not staying in a castle belonging to some pure-blood heiress whom you're having an affair with on the sly?"
She'd meant it to be a ridiculous charge, and yet when Malfoy paused, her eyebrows went up.
"She's away, touristing in Asia at the moment."
For some odd reason, something in Hermione's chest sank a little at that pronouncement.
Malfoy's shook his head and elbowed her arm lying atop the arm rest between them. "Really, Granger, too easy." He snuggled back in his chair again and turned towards the action below. "I'd have to have a relationship already established to have a mistress on the side."
"But you do know a pure-blood heiress living in Norway in a castle?"
The idea seemed ludicrous.
He simply shrugged it off. "Are you hungry yet?"
When was she not, really?
"Maybe, a little," she admitted, allowing the distraction.
He raised an arm and snapped his fingers. An instant later, the house-elf appeared before them with a tray of hors d'oeuvres. Her jaw came unhinged at the sight of rows of artfully displayed chicken teriyaki skewers, a variety of vegetables cut into thin sticks, and a line of honey-garlic roasted cauliflower.
It all smelled heavenly.
"Are we actually eating a relatively healthy snack for once?" she asked, overwhelmed and unsure where to start.
Malfoy tilted his head towards her. "Would you rather pretzels and mince pies again?"
Quickly, she shook her head in the negative.
"I take it you approve of the upgrade, then?"
She gave him her most brilliant smile…and reached for a chicken skewer.
TO BE CONTINUED...