Written for Muggle Studies.
Task: For this task I would like you to write about a Muggle/Muggleborn/Halfblood teaching a non-Muggle affiliated witch or wizard a Muggle sport.
Extra prompts: (object) Tennis Skirt / (dialogue) "You whacked me with that on purpose" / (word) Pain
WC: 1546
"Why are we doing this again?"
She rolls her eyes at his question. "Because you've been really angry and, since you won't tell me why, the least I could do is help you blow up some steam."
He looks at her with a smirk on his face. "We could always have sex, you know."
"You know that there are more activities other than sex right?"
His smirk is bigger now. "We are so good at it, don't you think, Granger? Why mess with it?"
She punches him on his shoulder.
"I'm going to change. Down the hall is your locker room." She opens the door and enters. "Wait for me here, okay?"
Raising one of his eyebrows, he asks, "Are you sure you don't want me to go in there with you?
She slams the door on his face.
.
"Why didn't you tell me before that you're going to use this outfit?" He looks suggestively at her.
She walks towards him with an exasperated look on her face.
"You just can't think with your upper head can you?"
He kisses her cheek as she stands in front of him.
"The perks of dating a Malfoy. You should be used to it by now."
She shakes her head and, as she moves to pick up the rackets, he sees other guys eyeing his girlfriend.
"So, the name of the game is tennis. You use the racket in front of you to hit the ball to the other side of—Why are you looking like that?"
He directs his scowl at her. "Like what?"
"Like you have something shoved up your arse".
"I don't—It's just—" He looks at the other side and she can see that he's blushing. "Why do you have to use this piece of cloth?"
"It's called a tennis skirt. And I use it because I want too." She crosses her arms in front of her chest. "Do you have a problem with that?"
He shakes his head. "I just don't like the idea of other guys ogling you."
"Tell you what," she puts both of her hands on his shoulder and, pressing her body really close to him, she whisper in his ear, "If you behave properly I'll let you take the skirt off with your teeth."
Pushing her off of him, he picks up his racket and goes to his side of the court.
"So, are we going to play or not?"
.
"So," He looks over at her and watches as she positions herself, "All I have to do is throw the ball at your side of the court and score?"
"It's not that easy, you know" She points towards the vertical line at the side. "On the first serve, the ball cannot extend beyond these two lateral lines. You have to throw the ball into the air and hit it before it touches the ground and it has to reach my service area. Like this."
He watches as she throws the ball on the ground twice before doing what she said. He's mesmerized by the way she moves her arms and how long her legs looks on that outfit.
"Malfoy?"
"Yes?"
"You have to rebound the ball."
"What?"
The minute he asks the question, he spots the ball rolling at his feet.
"Oh."
.
After fifteen minutes spent doing nothing more than hitting the ball at one another, she stops. "Okay, you got the gist. Now it's your turn."
He looks quizzically at her. "My turn to do what?"
"To serve."
"Serve what?"
"Malfoy."
.
"You have to stand on the right side of the court and you have to hit the ball in the service area located diagonally to me."
He walks towards his spot and asks her, "Why you didn't do it before?"
"Because I wanted to see if you could at least hit the ball to my side of the court."
"I played Quidditch in Hogwarts, you know."
"As a seeker, not as a beater."
"Potato, potato."
She rolls her eyes at him. "Remember, the ball cannot hit the ground."
"Yeah, yeah, let's do this."
.
"Again."
He groans at the sound of her voice.
"It's not that difficult, you know. You just have to hit the ball before it touches the ground."
"I know."
"Then why can't you do it?"
He looks at her with a venomous look on his face.
"Again."
As he tries to serve again, the racket slips from his hand, going towards her.
"Oh my god, Hermione, I'm so sorry!"
He races at her side and crouches next to her. She's sitting on the ground with her hand on her head.
"You whacked me with that on purpose!"
"Wha—Of course not! How can you say that?!" He puts his hand over the spot where the damn thing hit her head. There's a bump forming already and his heart break as she winces from pain.
"I really am sorry, you know."
He offers her his hand as she tries to stand up. "Yeah, I know. Just hit the ball next time, okay?"
He nods and she can't help but notice that he looks like a little kid, shaking his head like that.
.
"Now let's play for real, shall we?"
He nods and, even though he was complaining at first, he can't say that it doesn't feel good to work all of his muscles like this.
He prefers sports like quidditch or even that other game that she showed him – rubgy? – but this is nice too.
Besides, at the end of the day, he gets to be with his second favorite girl in the whole world.
So yeah, he can't complain.
"We shall."
He goes to his position and, as she moves to do the same, he asks, "How do we keep score?"
"Oh, I forgot about that." He watches as she licks her lips. "You need to win six games to win the set. It's designated by terms like 15, 30, 40, and play, with zero points being referred to by the term "love"."
He nods, accompanying her explanation.
"To win the set, you need to be at least for a difference of two games."
"And what happens if we tie the game?"
She feels the hair on her arms stands up. She loves when he looks so focused. His eyes get that determined glint on them.
"Then, in other words, we have to play until we reach the difference of two points."
"Okay, ready?"
"As I'll ever be."
.
They've been playing for almost an hour when she decides to ask him her question.
"So, what's gotten you so angry during these weeks?"
He shakes his head, hitting the ball with more force than necessary. "You're not going to drop it, are you?"
"You know that I won't."
He hits the ball again and it go right into the net, falling on his side of the court.
"Score!" She celebrates and he can't help but smile at her little dance.
He feels his heart beat faster. He's really lucky that he's one of the few people in the entire world that gets to see this side of her.
"They expect me to fail."
She's preparing to serve when she hears his voice. "What?"
"They expect me to fail." He looks down. "I passed the course and I'm ready to be a mediwizard but it doesn't matter. They'll always see me as the deatheater, the defector the—"
"Who cares?"
He raises his head and watches as she puts her hand on her waist.
"What do you mean?"
"Look at you. You're here, learning how to play a muggle sport with a muggle who, by the way, is your girlfriend for almost two years. How does your family feels about it? And I'm not talking about your parents."
"They are probably rolling on their graves."
"Yes. And what are you doing about it?"
"Nothing."
She smiles with triumph on her eyes. "Exactly."
She walks towards the net and he does the same, stopping right in front of her. She's so small when compared to him but, it's in moments like these that he remembers how strong she is.
"You're a Malfoy, Draco." Hermione caresses his cheek and he leans towards her hand. "You only care about others opinion if you want to. Your family did some bad things, but some of those people did some horrible stuff too. You're a Malfoy and don't you ever forget that, ok?"
He kisses her, hoping to convey everything that he's feeling in that kiss.
When he feels her small hands gripping his shirt, he mentally celebrate.
.
"Are you ready to lose?"
He scoffs at her. "Like that could ever happen."
They're on the last game of the last set. She's winning, much to his disappointment, but he can't bring himself to care all that much.
He feels lighter than he has in months and all thanks to the beautiful woman on the other side that decided to give him a chance. He doesn't like to express his feelings very often because he doesn't really know how to but, after this day, he'll try harder.
For her.
"I won!"
As he watches how she shakes her hips with an excited smile on her face, he realizes that no, she's not the winner.
He is.
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