CHAPTER XI
At the front of the hall, the four Quidditch captains, Hermione, Dumbledore and the three Cannons officials stood silently, waiting for someone to speak. Lingering at the doors towards the back of the hall, Snape stood, straining his ears to catch any information.
"That'll be all, thank you Severus," Professor Dumbledore said simply. The students turned to look at the Head of the Slytherin House who scowled before roughly pushing the door forwards and flowing out of the hall. Once he had regained everybody's attention, Dumbledore spoke again. "Tomorrow, as you all know," he said, glancing meaningfully at Malfoy and at Harry, "is the first day of the tournament. These three gentlemen and I have each received a copy of the team lists. Does anyone have any questions?"
The students remained silent: a couple looked at each other; Harry's gaze was, once again, transfixed on the face of Jekydson; Hermione lowered her face looking at her feet, still deep in thought. "Right then," Dumbledore continued, "We'll see the Slytherin and Gryffindor teams down on the pitch at noon." The students turned and began to shuffle out of the Great Hall. "Hermione … Draco … May I see you two for a moment."
Hermione spun around quickly; she had been wondering what the purpose of her being at the meeting had been. Draco, who was walking just a few paces in front of her, also abruptly stopped, changed direction and followed her to where the Headmaster stood. The three guests had left his side and were sitting at one of the long tables discussing something. Hermione glanced over at them before giving Dumbledore her full attention.
"I trust you two are well under way in the Yule Ball preparations?" Dumbledore looked at both Hermione and Malfoy. Silence followed in the moments afterwards. Hermione nodded whilst Malfoy didn't move a muscle. "Well…?" he persisted, looking to Malfoy, this time, for answers.
"Actually we were meeting up tonight to finalise the plans, we'll give you the details at the end of the week, latest." Malfoy replied, looking first at Hermione and then transited his stare to the face of the wizened Headmaster. Dumbledore nodded, signalling that they could leave.
Although the two students left the hall in silence, they walked close together. Hermione walked quickly, not too sure whether or not she wanted to be alone with Malfoy, but he was only a few steps behind her. Having exited the hall, Hermione turned and began to walk in the direction of the Gryffindor common room; she had to get out of Draco's company, she told herself again and again, angrily.
Suddenly, from behind her, she heard a rough growl and felt a pair of strong hands grab her own arms and turning her around. During the small scuffle, Hermione had shut her eyes, and upon opening them, found herself looking up in to the depths of Malfoy's pale blue eyes. His face was flushed, from the brisk walk to keep up with her, she assumed, and his hair had fallen out of it's place, thin blond strands entangled in his eyes.
Without thinking, Hermione freed and lifted one of her hands to quickly brush away a few strands, and when lowering her hand, allowed it to linger a few seconds holding his cheek. She felt him tense up as he felt her cool hands against his skin. Gradually, Malfoy loosened the grip he held on Hermione's other wrist, and her arm feel limp at her side. Briefly, Hermione looked down at her hand, only to feel Malfoy raising her chin. She complied and watched as Malfoy bent his own head, eyes closed, parting his lips to kiss her.
"Hermione! There you are …" From further down the corridor she heard Harry's voice, followed by footsteps that ran closer to her. Having also just heard this, Malfoy swiftly brought his head back and his eyes sprung open. Seizing the opportunity, he caught Hermione's hands again, kissed the backs of them tenderly and whispered to her to meet him outside the Great Hall in an hours time.
Hermione only just had time to nod in agreement before he was gone. The next second, hardly giving her any time to think, Harry came bounding up to her. "What was going on?" he asked innocently, "Malfoy not causing you any problems, is he?" Hermione quickly shook her head, relieved that Harry hadn't appeared to have seen anything more. The two Gryffindors began to make their way back to their common room. Hermione was deep in thought. Harry, however, hadn't seemed to have noticed; he was busily chatting about the Quidditch game he had coming up the next day.
As soon as they reached the common room, Harry left Hermione's side and went to sit with the more enthusiastic Ron. Harry notice that as he spoke, Ron's gaze kept drifting away to look at the figure of Hermione who sat at the other end of the common room. He pondered over this for a second, wondering why his two best friends weren't talking again. Almost immediately, his attention was returned to the Quidditch match, when Colin Creevey came over to ask him a question about the upcoming game.
Harry, after recommending that his team went to bed early to get a good night's rest, followed Ron up to the dormitories. Quickly changing and pulling the duvet tightly around him, he continued to think about the game tomorrow. He was full of excitement, this could be his big break, he thought dreamily, if he impressed the officials he could actually get into the Under-21 Chudley Cannons team. Even as his thought, he squirmed with nerves as he remembered that he would be playing against Slytherin. I hope Malfoy doesn't have any dirty tricks up his sleeve, he thought just before falling asleep.
The next morning, Harry awoke and sat up smiling. Looking around the room, Harry saw that Ron, Dean and Seamus were still smiling. He got up, deciding to let them sleep for a little longer, quickly washed and pulled his clothes on. He bounded down the stairs towards the common room, two at a time, almost tripping over a chair that had been left at the bottom of the stairs.
Humming quietly to himself, Harry collapsed onto an armchairs and looked around the room happily. A few Gryffindors had also risen early and were sitting at one of the tables, playing a game of wizard's chess. One of them, a second-year called over and greeted Harry with a good morning, to which he quickly responded. No one, he thought to himself, would be able to knock the smile of his face today.
Gradually the rest of his House awoke and came down the common room. In hardly any time he was surrounded by students wishing him luck. Eventually he managed to shrug them off and walked, with Ron, to the Great Hall. Harry glanced over at the Slytherin table as they took their seats. The Slytherins seemed almost as excited as the Gryffindors; throughout their breakfast many of the younger students went to stand near to Malfoy, their House captain, pointing at him in admiration.
Harry smiled, shaking his head gently and looked away. Things could have been so different, he thought retrospectively, if he had been placed in Slytherin on their first day at Hogwarts. Harry snapped out of his daydream as he heard the gentle voice of Dumbledore, addressing the whole school.
"Today is the first day of the Chudley Cannon's Under-21's try-outs. It is also Halloween and as a double celebration we will be holding a feast tonight, held here." Harry smiled; every day Dumbledore introduced the Halloween feast in much the same way. He watched as the headmaster turned towards him and winked, before turning his head away.
He left the Hall early, wanting to take a walk around the grounds before he had to begin lessons. He had one period of Herbology before he was allowed to leave and prepare for the game. As he walked through the Entrance Hall and crossed the courtyard, Harry thought about the game. He thought excitedly about the feeling he got when soaring through the air on his broomstick, the satisfaction he would have when he beat Malfoy to the Snitch.
Harry was so deep in his thoughts that he didn't notice the sound of footsteps approaching him from behind. He suddenly tripped over something and fell to the ground, face first. Quickly scrambling to his knees, Harry saw that his attacker was Malfoy. He stood up, lifting his face to glare into the blond boy's pale eyes.
Malfoy kept his gaze, unblinking. The top of his lips turned up into a cold smirk. "Better watch where you're putting your clumsy feet, Potter," he spat, "wouldn't like anything to happen to you during the game, would we?" He laughed a short, heartless chuckle and carried on walking.
Harry stood where he was, his eyes open wide; what had Malfoy meant? Was it just another empty threat or had it been something more? As Harry continued walking around the grounds and on his way back to the common room, he thought about what Malfoy had said. He decided, after much thought, that it had just been Malfoy with one of the usual threats.
Herbology was pointless; Professor Sprout couldn't keep the class under control. All the students were talking excitedly about the game, and soon she stopped trying to teach them altogether. At eleven, the students left; some made their way back to their common rooms to pass the time before the game, the Quidditch players all walked through the Hogwarts grounds until they reached the changing rooms.
In the changing rooms, the Gryffindors kept close together. They didn't change into their Quidditch robes preferring, instead, to talk about tactics which would be useful for the game. "We have to win this game," Harry repeated his thoughts to his team, "but let's make sure that everyone has a chance to show what they're made of." He looked around at the excited faces that smiled back at him.
They quickly discussed final details, before the girls and boys separated. Removing his usual black Hogwarts robes, Harry pulled his scarlet Quidditch robes over his head. He sat silently on the bench, waiting for his team-mates to join him. Slowly, one by one, they returned each taking a seat on the wooden bench.
Harry smiled and gave his team a few extra words of encouragement before leading them over towards the door which lead to the castle grounds and the Quidditch pitch. Outside he could hear a loud murmur; the whole school had already gathered in the area, waiting to watch the match, he thought happily. Hermione would be standing in the teacher's stand, where the three officials would also be watching, Dean would be commentating on the match, and he, Harry smiled, he would be soaring through the air.
A few moments later, Malfoy led his team towards the same door, and the two Houses stood opposite each other in silence, waiting for their cue. Harry glanced at his opponents team. Malfoy, like himself, had kept all his usual players. This hardly came as a surprise, but Harry smiled knowledgeably.
Madam Hooch, the Quidditch teacher, suddenly appeared at the doorway. She had come from the playing field and was instructing the two teams as to what they should do. "As usual, Gryffindor will enter the pitch first, being alphabetically first, and then Slytherin were finished. She blew a short sharp note o her whistle and Harry kicked off from the ground vaguely aware of his team flying behind him. As he whipped into the air and begun flying laps around the field, he could hear Dean's voice introducing each of his team individually.
As a second whistle blow was sounded, Harry saw a blur of emerald green emerge the changing rooms. Dean Thomas, in his usual fashion, introduced the Slytherins in much the same way he had his own team, but with much less enthusiasm. Harry grinned; he didn't think Hogwarts had ever had a commentator that had not been biased towards their own team.
As he dived and ducked along the Quidditch pitch, he was aware of another broomstick flying close to the back of his. Turning his head slightly, Harry saw that the broomstick belonged to Malfoy. Not even wanting to think about what Malfoy was playing at, Harry suddenly swerved and lowered himself several feet closer to the ground. This threw Malfoy off for a couple of seconds before he, too, shrunk to the level at which Harry had begun to fly.
Much further down, Harry saw a small figure walking across the Quidditch pitch, beckoning down both Seekers. Malfoy promptly nose-dived towards the ground, presumably trying to show off some talent. Harry patiently lowered his broomstick gently to the ground and, although landing later than Malfoy, did not bump along the ground dangerously in an attempt to slow himself down.
Harry listened intently to Madam Hooch as she told the two captains that the match would begin in three minutes. Harry rose back above where his team sat ready in position. From where he was, he had an excellent view of the teacher's stand. Taking advantage of the extra time, Harry studied the stand. Mr Jekydson was standing next to Snape, who was still muttering in his ear; Mr Lyfinkle was excitedly looking from the pitch to the students that had gathered in the stands and then back to the players again. The only odd thing that Harry noted was Hermione's absence. She was not in the stands, where she would normally have been, and when he scanned the stands nearby, there was no sign of her there either. Harry tried to signal to Ron, but this attempt failed; Ron was too busy waving at the crowd to notice Harry's actions. Harry was not the only student to be looking at the stands. From further away, Malfoy was also looking, with interest, at Hermione's absence. His lips twisted into a small smirk; he could not see her.
Hermione was, however, at the Quidditch match, but had not yet returned to the teacher's stand. She had seen Malfoy before he had gone to get ready for the game. He had caught up with her when she had been walking alone to her lesson. Pulling lightly on the back of her robe, Malfoy had kissed her ear subtly.
Whispering gently, Malfoy had leant close to her ear. "Hermione, I need to talk to you." She could feel his hot breath on her cheek as he spoke. Willingly she allowed Malfoy to pull her into an empty classroom along the corridor. The corridors had been full of students but no one had seemed to notice; they were all making predictions about which team was going to win the Quidditch match.
"What do you want Malfoy?" Hermione feigned impatience, looking away from his pale face.
"I told you about my father hitting me a few weeks ago," Malfoy looked pleadingly into her eyes. Hermione nodded; she remembered only too well, "and," Malfoy continued, "you said you would do all that you could for me." Hermione closed her eyes, feeling Malfoy's intoxicating smell all around her. She nodded silently, still listening to his whispering voice.
Having received her full attention, Malfoy bent even closer to Hermione's ear, until his lips were mere millimetres from it. Gently, so as not to startle her, Malfoy muttered a few words. Hermione opened her mouth in protest before closing it again and nodding, obediently.