A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so glad that you are enjoying the story so far. We are progressing into second year now. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates, and answer questions. Huge thank you to Ava Safari for beta reading this chapter!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter six and be on the lookout for chapter seven soon!

1992

The only thing that Draco had wanted to do the summer after completing his first year at Hogwarts was to practice Quidditch. He, Harry and Alphard had spent many nights up late talking about how they would all try out for the Slytherin squad the following autumn. His mum was happy to indulge him, getting him the latest broom model and letting him spend hours with Sirius and Regulus so that he could practice drills with his cousins.

For once, Grandfather Abraxas seemed quite pleased with his grandson's ambitions, if only because it meant that he spent less time with the muggleborns. His grandfather was growing older, and he seemed to forget some of the events of recent years, proudly regaling Draco with stories of his father's prowess on a broomstick.

If there was one thing that Draco was certain, it was that he would never play keeper in a million years. He didn't want to follow in his father's footsteps.

He'd dreamed about playing seeker, often listening to Regulus tell stories about how great it felt to catch the snitch. He'd even weaseled out of some of the older man's training techniques through careful questioning.

Draco's dreams were dashed when they finally all got together to play and he saw Harry on a broomstick. Uncle Sirius had made a statement that Harry was a natural, with such a proud, wistful tone that it had Draco seeing green with envy. Alphard had previously decided that he wanted to play beater, just like his father had, too.

It seemed hopeless that he should ever find his spot on a Quidditch squad. He had no natural talent, just pure determination and will to win.

That was until his Grandfather Cygnus had finally ferreted out what it was that was bothering his young grandson. He watched Draco fly around on a broomstick with keen grey eyes for hours, before finally announcing that it was clear Draco had inherited his skill as a chaser.

"You've got a sharp mind, too, lad," his grandfather said, tapping Draco on the temple. "You just might make captain if you're lucky. Study the plays and learn them front to back. Then do the same with your opponents' plays, too."

It was as if a whole new world had been opened up to him.

The only one who seemed put out with his new found obsession was Hermione. He was certain that she felt terribly left out, seeing as she didn't care for Quidditch, or even fancy flying on a broom much. He couldn't stop talking about Quidditch, from the moment that they arrived on the Hogwarts Express to the morning the trials were set to take place.

"Please come to the trials, Hermione," Draco begged, knowing that he would feel better if he just had his best friend's support in this. "It won't even take that long, I promise."

"I don't know, Draco," she said, with a tight frown. "I've got a lot of homework to do tonight. It's just not really a good time for me."

"There is no other time, though," he whined. He wanted to show Hermione how much he'd improved over the summer, to prove that he was the best damn chaser that Hogwarts had ever seen. "They are only tonight. I promise that I will study with you in the library for an hour every night after dinner for two weeks if you come."

Hermione raised one eyebrow in disbelief, before smirking at him. "We'll see, Draco," she answered, before leaving him to stew on his own thoughts.

In the end, she did come, hiding in the Quidditch stands, but obvious from her bushy hair. She gave him a shy wave.

Draco felt bolstered knowing that she was there, and he turned to look at Marcus Flint, the massive captain who seemed scary barking orders at him. He focused on the task at hand, trying not to feel too nervous knowing that Hermione's eyes were on him while he was running through drills.

By the time that the tryouts were over, Flint announced that he was ready to name the first team squad. Draco was absolutely crushed to learn that he did not make the team, but neither had Alphard. In the end, it was only Harry Potter who had secured the spot of seeker, beating out Terence Higgs.

He knew that he was being irrationally jealous, but Draco felt so utterly embarrassed at being passed over while Harry had managed to snag the best spot on the squad. He almost didn't want to stay when Flint called him and Alphard over. "The pair of you looked great. I want you to practice with us on the reserve squad," he explained. "You'll probably make the first team next year if you work hard."

Alphard nodded, eager to be involved at all, before he ran off to congratulate Harry. Draco just wanted to get back to the Slytherin Common Room where he could pretend like the day never even happened.

Hermione cut him off while he was on the path back up to the castle. "You did great, Draco!" she told him, her cheeks flushed pink from the air and her eyes bright. "You just...I don't know, look like you are meant to fly on a broom."

"Well, I didn't make the team," he said, feeling particularly surly in the moment. He explained that Flint wanted to him to train with them, though.

She didn't seem bothered by the fact at all. "That's such a great opportunity," she said, ever the optimist where he was concerned. "Just think about how much you'll be able to learn from the older guys. You'll be at such an advantage when you play against the other house teams."

When she put it like that it didn't seem like such a let down to Draco after all. "Hermione, you always know just what to say to cheer me up," he told her, giving his friend a half-smile. "Now, would you fancy a lift back to the castle?" he asked, lifting up his broom.

The Ravenclaw girl returned his smile. "Maybe just this once," she agreed. "And only if you promise not to do any of those spirals or sharp drops."

She mounted the broom behind him, never seeing the smirk on his face. He couldn't resist showing off to her a little.