Happy Easter, everybody! Sorry it's been quite a while since I last posted, but the wait is no longer! I have finally managed to write the next chapter, but I've been très busy so I apologise for that. Hopefully you won't have to wit as long for the next instalment, however I'm not making any promises... Nevertheless I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I just wanted to say a big thank you to everyone who has liked, followed or reviewed this story so far- it honestly does make me extremely happy and provides me with motivation to continue writing as I enter the stressful period of revision. So without further ado... happy reading :)

8. Quidditch

'First match of the season,' Harry said nervously, passing the handle of his broom between his hands. He was stood at the base of one of the spectator towers surrounding the Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch. He was dressed in the typical red and gold attire for the Gryffindor team, and beside him stood Ron, also sporting the team colours- plus a rather ugly leather head protector that buckled under his chin. They were preparing for their first Quidditch match of the year; a match that tended to be the most anticipated, for it was the match of the two biggest rivals: Gryffindor and Slytherin.

'I can't believe you were made captain, Harry,' Ginny squealed, pulling Hermione up behind her as they went to stand with the boys. She was eying the silver badge Harry wore that was engraved with a 'C' for Captain. 'I knew you would have to get it eventually- you're by far the best player on the team!'

At this, Ron gave a sharp cough, turning Ginny's attention to him. 'Oh, boo-hoo, Ronald,' Ginny cried sarcastically, giving him a light shove. 'Harry's been playing way longer than you have. And, by the way, you look like a dork with that thing on your head.' She pointed to his protection gear accusingly.

Hermione stepped forwards, feeling it was best she changed the subject before things got messy between the Weasleys, despite the fact Ron still had refused to speak to her since Tuesday. 'That gives you equal status with prefects!' she said to Harry with excitement, referring back to his captaincy. 'You can use our special bathroom now and everything.'

'Actually, I don't think I can dock points like prefects can,' Harry said, causing Hermione to roll her eyes.

'And, Ginny,' she continued. 'Harry is not 'the best' player. Don't get me wrong, he is certainly one of the best. He's the best seeker. But Ron is better at being keeper. Every team member has a speciality, making them all equally as good,' she finished, eyeing Ron meaningfully. She was fed up of his attitude, and she really wanted to make up. It had been almost a week they had gone without speaking to one and other, and that was a record. He didn't usually hold a grudge this long, so Hermione knew something was up. She just wished he would talk to her about it.

'Whatever,' Ron muttered without meeting her eye. He slung his broomstick over his shoulder and marched off towards the pitch without looking back.

'He's still mad at you?' Ginny said with an exasperated huff as she looked over at Hermione.

'Yes!' Hermione said. 'And I've tried to get him to talk to me, but nothings worked. I'm even being nice! I just gave him compliment, for Merlin's sake!'

'This is the longest they've ever been fighting,' Harry added, casting a worried glance at Ron's back. He hesitated. 'I'd better go after him...' He turned to run after Ron, but Hermione grabbed his sleeve before he could go.

'Will you speak to him for me?' she pleaded, making her eyes as big and round and innocent as she could.

Harry faltered slightly. 'I'll try,' he said eventually, pulling from Hermione's grip and hurrying away.

'Something is definitely up with Ron,' Ginny said as she watched Harry's retreating figure with eager eyes.

'You're telling me,' Hermione agreed with a sigh. She began to ascend the steps to the top of the Gryffindor spectator tower, Ginny following her lead.

'Harry looks so gorgeous in red though,' Ginny continued, with a wistful note to her voice. Hermione hated to think of what Ginny was imagining right at that second.

'Ugh, Ginny! Just tell him how you feel.'

'It's not that simple,' Ginny replied, only half focused as she continued to fantasise about Harry, causing Hermione to roll her eyes, again. She was surprised her eyes weren't damaged, considering the number of times her friends made her roll them.

Eventually, the two made it back out into open air when they reached the top of the tower. Hermione was immediately met by a blast of icy wind- it was much colder higher up- that made her feel glad she'd opted to wear a jacket. The stands were already packed full of people, but she soon spotted Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown (the two other girls in her dorm, and good friends of Hermione) waving to them from the front seats. She and Ginny quickly made their way over, shoving past the other Gryffindor members who were already shouting and stamping their feet in anticipation, red and gold striped banners waving above their heads. Hermione eagerly looked out over the Quidditch pitch: a large, oval shaped pitch that measured approximately 500 feet long and 180 feet wide with a small central circle around 2 feet in diameter, from which all the different balls were released at the start of the game. At each end of the pitch stood three hooped goal posts of different heights, surrounded by a marked out scoring area. As Quidditch was an aerial sport, all the seating was at high vantage points. Hermione could see all the other spectator towers covered in the house colours they represented. She could also see the tower where the teachers watched the match from, whilst keeping the score.

Each tower was jam packed. Since it was the first match of the season, it was a very popular occasion, and practically the whole school had turned up. Gryffindor and Slytherin matches tended to be rather intense, and always ended up going either way. In last year's tournament, Gryffindor won the Inter-house Quidditch cup, but you could never underestimate the Slytherin team. Hermione always described their style as brutal, whereas she liked to think of the Gryffindor team as tactical. Although she never openly admitted it, she was always excited and rather proud to see Ron and Harry play Quidditch. The game always seemed to lighten her mood, as long as no one was seriously injured, and she hoped that today's match would have a similar affect. Beside her, Ginny, Parvati and Lavender were all chattering in bubbly voices, but Hermione was paying more attention to the pitch below.

If she leaned forward far enough, she could see the two teams walking towards each other from opposite ends of the pitch: Gryffindor in their scarlet red cloaks, Slytherin in green. From this far away, it was impossible to make out each individual. Luckily, Hermione had brought along her old binoculars, allowing her to get a clearer look at the action. After a little fiddling with the lens, she managed to achieve the right amount of focus, enough so that she could easily see the faces of the team members down on the ground. She moved the binoculars around until she caught sight of Harry, who was leading the Gryffindor players towards the centre. Ron was just behind him, still looking rather moody. He seemed to be glaring daggers across at the Slytherin team- which was never a good sign.

Hermione used her binoculars as a means of following Ron's gaze. To her shock, she found her eyes resting upon a rather arrogant-looking Draco, who was laughing coldly along with a few other members of the Slytherin team. Even from where she was sat, Hermione could tell he was unhappy. It was odd how she could know this, but she did. Draco was usually much more outrageously confident before Quidditch matches. He would usually roam around the outskirts of the pitch for ages with his mates, calling out insults, but Hermione hadn't seen him all morning- not even at breakfast. As she watched him laugh, she noticed how his eyes darted about, unfocused, and although he was putting on a good act, she could tell he didn't really want to be there. She hoped Ron had just been collectively glaring at the entirety of the Slytherin team, and not just at Draco. Maybe her gaze had happened to fall on him by chance?

She watched with a growing anxiety as the two teams stopped either side of the chest containing the Quidditch balls. She watched as Harry and Vaisey (the Slytherin captain) appeared to exchange a few words, then lean in to shake hands. Draco hung back, his arms folded around his broom. This immediately reminded Hermione of the day before, when they had been stood on that bridge, wrapped in each other's arms. It was a memory that felt so real and yet so unreal at the same time. On the other hand, Ron was stood as if he were a wild animal ready to pounce, his hands balled into fists at his sides. Hermione bit her lip. She had never seen a Ronald Weasley this angry: usually he was rather cheerful and concentrated very hard during a game. Right now he looked as if he wanted to murder someone, and she had a feeling that someone was Draco, although she had no idea why. Yes- Ron hated the Slytherin, but in matches she felt he had always been rather sensible about it. He hated all Slytherins, which tended to make him play better in order to win the match and beat them, and he never really encountered Draco in a game anyway. Like Harry, Draco was a Seeker, and their objective was to catch the Golden Snitch in order to win 150 points for their team. Seekers didn't often score goals.

'Hermione, are you alright?' Ginny asked in her ear, causing her to jump. She lowered her binoculars quickly. 'What's going on down there?' her friend asked, not waiting to hear a reply to her first question.

'They're just about to start,' Hermione called back, finding that she had to shout above the racket of the cheering Gryffindors. As if her words were magic, as soon as she spoke all the players below began to clamber onto their broomsticks and rise into the air. Her eyes darted about as she watched Harry, Ron and Draco find their positions on the pitch, hovering on their brooms as they waited for the match to begin.

She saw the tiny figure of Madam Hooch, the games professor, standing by the central circle. She was shouting something Hermione couldn't hear, for her ears were buzzing in anticipation. Then Madam Hooch released the balls with a hoot of her whistle. The two Bludgers and the Snitch flew off on their own as they were bewitched to do so, whilst Hooch tossed the Quaffle high into the air herself. It was immediately swept up by Harry, and the match was away.

After a good 10 minutes of play, the score was tied at 150 points each. It was an extremely close match- every time a Gryffindor player scored, a Slytherin player would equal that score within minutes. It looked as if as soon as a team got their hands on the Quaffle, they would make their way down to the other end of the pitch, and then they would proceed to score. Both of the keepers appeared to be having a bad day, as neither Ron nor the Slytherin Keeper had saved a single goal. After another 5 minutes, Harry called for a break.

Hermione watched as the two teams huddled together on the ground, both in deep discussion. The crowds continued to make noise; however, they were slightly more subdued due to the game's slow start.

'What was all that about?' Ginny asked Hermione, who stared back at her blankly. Ginny caught her expression and tried again. 'What's up with Ron?'

'Do you think it's because of me?' Hermione wondered.

'No,' Ginny responded quickly. 'He's not concentrating. He's been looking around the whole time so far, but he's not looking towards the stands. He's not paying attention to the ball- it's maddening,' Ginny cried in frustration. 'What could he be looking for?'

'No idea,' Hermione said, putting an arm around her friend in comfort. But of course she had an idea: for some reason, Ron had been looking out for Draco. Had Draco said something recently that had upset Ron? Perhaps he'd caught wind of a rumour Draco had supposedly started about him? Hermione continued to dwell on this as the game restarted.

Soon, the players were up in the air again, and back in play. Everything was going more smoothly- obviously both team captains had had words with their keepers, who were actually saving goals now. Every time Ron caught the Quaffle a massive cheer rose up from the Gryffindor stands. Usually, Ron would be grinning and doing ridiculous flips on his broom by this point. Instead, he didn't even crack a smile, tossing the ball out to Harry hard and fast. The game went on.

Gryffindor scored twice more, moving them into a 20-point lead. Hermione, mid celebration, looked over to see Harry had spotted the Snitch, and was proceeding to nose dive after it. As he descended, he flew straight through the middle of two Slytherins passing the Quaffle to one another. His hand shot out, grabbing the ball and tossing it straight over his head. Another Gryffindor swooped in to retrieve it. Hermione couldn't help but smile smugly to herself, whilst beside her Ginny began to hysterically chant Harry's name. He was good, there was no denying that.

Her eyes continued to follow Harry's path as he changed course, suddenly veering vertically upwards to keep the Snitch in sight. By this point, all the Gryffindors were noticing Harry's pursuit, and the cheering and chanting suddenly grew a lot louder. Hermione had to cover her ears thanks to a particularly loud screamer right behind her, who also kept hitting her accidentally with the stick of the sign he was holding. She saw Draco coming to join the chase from the left, drawing up his broom in line with Harry's in one smooth motion. The snitch, a small golden blur to Hermione's eyes, appeared to fly straight through one of the on looking towers in front of them. Harry drew his stick up sharply to fly over the tower, whilst Draco threw his weight sideways, causing him to go spinning off back towards the pitch. He managed to regain his composure quite well, earning encouraging shouts from the Slytherins. Shaking his head, she saw him fly back to Harry's side, this time coming in a little ahead of the Gryffindor Seeker.

It all happened so fast. Harry and Draco were flying towards the Gryffindor goal posts, still in hot pursuit of the Snitch. Harry was flying on Draco's outside, and was being slowly forced to his left as Draco flew at an angle. At this rate, Harry would hit the closest post unless he drew back. But he wouldn't. Ginny was screaming for him to watch out, but Hermione could barely hear her. She dropped her binoculars, her eyes widening as the two battling Seekers flew closer and closer to the posts. The Snitch in front of them passed right through one of the hoops. At the last second, Harry swerved out the way, but as he did, he caught Draco with the back of his broom with quite some force. Letting out a short cry, Draco desperately tried to right himself before slipping. He was now in the path of Ron, the goal keeper. Another Slytherin, someone Hermione didn't recognise, had used the distraction with the Seekers to sneak up to the goal. He threw the Quaffle, but Ron span round on his broom, hitting it away with an angry shout.

Time seemed to slow as Hermione watch the Quaffle soar through the air towards Draco. It hit him hard on the back as he continued to grapple with his own broom. He had no chance, the force of the hitting him like a vicious shove: he wasn't properly balanced and he hadn't even seen the ball. He was completely unprepared. He toppled forwards, dropping to the ground like a stone.

Hermione shot up from her seat in blind terror. 'DRACO!' she screamed at the top of her lungs. The rest of the world had gone silent. There were people all around her, but they were just shapes in the background. All she could see was the figure in green tumbling downwards through the air. Draco hit the ground with a sickening crack. Hermione's hands flew to her mouth with a sharp gasp. She could feel a strange, prickly heat behind her eyes. Draco lay in a crumpled heap, his face to the ground, unmoving.

What happened next she wasn't sure. The game was in uproar: all the players halted mid-flight, staring. The crowds were yelling, pointing, rushing forwards in the stands to see what had happened. Their cries and words only seemed to pass over Hermione's head. She merely stood in the same position she was in when she had first stood up, her hands slowly lowering back down again. She looked to Ginny, who was staring at her, wide-eyed. Her own eyes were also wide- wide with fear- and also moist. Her mouth hung open, and she was shaking all over. Ginny's mouth opened too. Hermione saw her form a word. It was her name. But she couldn't hear it. All she could think about was Draco. Was he dead? She didn't know. He was definitely badly injured. Was he ok? She needed to know if he was ok. She needed to see him. She didn't know why, but she needed to see him. Her mind was racing as she surged forwards, pushing her way through the crowds until she had a clear view of the pitch.

The players were lowering to the ground, walking away. The match was cancelled. She caught a glimpse of a limp blonde figure being rushed away on a stretcher, a huddle of teachers and medics surrounding him. Draco. Hermione turned and ran with only one thought- she had to see him. She headed for the stairs, a hand grabbing at her and trying to pull her back. It was Ginny, calling for her. She ran on.

At the foot of the stairs she ran straight into Ron, who was on his way up. He was panting, as if he had been running. Seeing his face this close brought Hermione back to reality. The world slid into focus again. The muted voices became louder.

'Hermione?' He sounded surprised, not angry. In fact, he looked nothing at all like he had out on the pitch. His face was flushed, and to Hermione he seemed to be rather panicked, his hands opening and closing together in a nervous gesture. It was also the first time he had properly acknowledged her- and spoken her name- in a long time. 'Where are you going?' he asked her.

'I…,' Hermione said, faltering. She couldn't tell him she had been going to see Draco, but she couldn't think of what else to say. 'I was- I was coming to find you,' she lied.

At her hesitation, Ron's face darkened. 'No you weren't,' he said bitterly. His eyes suddenly lit up, but not with delight. It was as if he had just had a terrible realisation. 'I know what you were doing. You were off to see Malfoy, weren't you? I saw you with him the other day, outside McGonagall's office. I saw you actually converse with him! Don't try to deny it. I saw it all.' Ron's eyes were blazing with anger as he glared at her, waiting for her reply.

Hermione's mouth was hanging open. She was speechless. Ron had seen her with Draco? It was a horrifying prospect, but it explained why he had been watching Draco the entire Quidditch match. For a moment, she thought that her secret second life was over. If Ron knew- he would tell everybody! Then she remembered Ron had only seen her talking to Draco. He knew nothing about what was going on. He also didn't really know that she was going to see him now- he had only been making an accusation, and she could use that to her advantage. 'Fine,' she said, trying to level her tone of voice to match Ron's. This lie had to pay off. 'I was going to see Malfoy. I was going to check that he was alright after you hit him with that Quaffle. He could be seriously injured, Ron, and it's your fault. And, by the way, I saw you the other day- watching me and Malfoy outside McGonagall's office. I knew you'd get the wrong idea, so I tried to speak with you about it, but you've been ignoring me ever since Hogsmeade!'

Ron spluttered, turning an even deeper shade of red than he was already. He looked as if he were about to explode in a mixture of anger and confusion. 'What?' he shouted. 'Don't be ridiculous, Hermione. I know you're lying. You've got something going with Malfoy, I know it.'

'It's the truth, Ronald,' Hermione snapped. 'When Malfoy was talking to me after the Prefect's meeting, he was asking me about an Ancient Runes project we're doing in class, and believe me, he didn't want to be. There is nothing going on between us! The thought makes me sick.'

Ron narrowed his eyes, refusing to give up. 'He didn't look like he didn't want to speak with you,' he spat.

Hermione almost screamed with frustration. Although she didn't want to lie about this, her relationship with Draco had to be kept a secret- for everybody's sake. And Ron was making it very difficult for her. She hated having to betray him, but his accusations were only making her angrier. 'You're delusional, Ron!' she yelled.

'Why did you lie then?' Ron yelled back. Both were shouting now, earning a lot of sideways glances from the Gryffindors exiting the tower behind them.

'What?' Hermione asked, perplexed.

'Why did you lie when you were going after Malfoy? You said you were coming to find me. You lied.'

'Oh, stop trying to twist things, Ronald,' Hermione cried, flinging her arms about wildly in her anger. 'I lied to you just now because I knew if I told you the truth, you would flip! I didn't have time to explain things to you, and I knew, as always, that you wouldn't understand.'

'As always?' Ron fired in response. He was beginning to shake, and he was now so red Hermione worried he would pass out. 'I wouldn't understand, as always? What's that supposed to mean? Are you trying to make this about us?' he practically screamed, his voice going slightly hoarse.

'This is about us!' Hermione screamed back. 'With you it's always about us! When it's me involved with someone you don't like, you always jump to conclusions. You always have a go at me. It's barbaric, and you have to stop. You don't control my life, and who I see. I get to decided that.'

'No, you don't,' Ron fought, pointing his finger at Hermione critically. His expression was livid. 'Not when it comes to him. Not when it's Malfoy.'

Hermione did let out a cry of frustration this time. 'I don't have time for this,' she said finally. Still glowering, she stormed past Ron, shoving him out the way. As she passed him, he reached out and grabbed her shoulder, forcefully spinning her back round to face him. He opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione got there first. 'Don't touch me,' she snarled, with such hatred in her voice that it caused Ron to drop his hand immediately, his eyes widening in surprise at her hurtful tone.

Hermione stalked off, truly hating him at that moment. In fact, she felt as if she had never hated anyone more, not even Draco. Ron Weasley, one of her best friends, had all but admitted he liked to control her life. And that was something she really didn't want to be dealing with. He had never been so cruel to her, not ever. Even though she was lying to his face, it was for his own good. Clearly, he couldn't handle the truth. He couldn't even handle a glimpse of the truth. Shaking her head, Hermione continued onwards in the direction of the hospital ward, without looking back.