I do not own any of the characters or story line of Harry Potter, and all credit goes to J.K Rowling, the legend herself.

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Chapter Three.

Hermione squinted slightly, rubbing her forehead. It seemed brighter than usual in her dorm. She forced her eyes open and looked around. She was lay in the exact position she had been last night, and figured she must of fallen asleep thinking about Dean. A crack of light shone through the gap in the curtains surrounding her bed. Hermione reached out her arm, behind the curtain and grabbed her clock. Hermione read the date that was curling its way around the hands of the clock. And then examined the time.

Nine thirty.

Her eyes widened as she read the time again, she had to be sure.

She was late.

The Gryffindor threw open the curtains around her bed and jumped up. A little too quickly at that. Her head spun as the blood rushed to other parts of her body, and she steadied herself on her bedside table. Hermione regained her balance and raced into the bathroom. When she realised she'd forgotten her clothes, she emerged a second later, grabbing her robes and uniform from the open trunk in front of her bed, and slamming it shut. Her bare feet padded across the cool wooden floor, descending the stairs two at a time and flying into the girl's bathroom. Once inside, she dressed in record speed. Hermione smiled to herself, quite proud of her accomplishment. That was, until, she realised she had her bra on over her shirt. Come on, come on! Hermione hurried herself, redressing properly and grabbing her toothbrush. Her brushing was aggressive and imprecise. When she had finished, she looked like some sort of deranged animal suffering from rabies. Hermione quickly washed her face and patted it dry. She threw her head back up and looked into the mirror. Her hair was currently diagnosed with un-cooperation and a life of its own. Basically, it was a mess. Quickly taking the hair elastic from around her wrist, she gathered her hair into a messy bun at the back of her head and secured it, loosening to top slightly and letting her outgrown bangs fall down.

Hermione leapt out of the bathroom and and raced back to her dorm, grabbing her bag book bag and throwing it onto her shoulder. She dived out the portrait hole, and just when she got half way down the hallway, did she realise she'd left her wand. With a groan, the Gryffindor ran back, through the portrait hole, through the common room, up the stairs, to the side of her bed, grabbing her wand and returning the way she'd came.

Hermione was not the best runner. She was no athlete either, and so when she descended the final flight of stairs to the Great Hall, she found herself running out of breath. Unable to stop her legs from moving, she bolted towards the doorway, and to her surprise, ran straight into a tall, hard barrier. Hermione stepped back immediately and doubled over slightly, attempting to catch her breath that was coming in short rasps. She looked up to where she had formerly collided, and what, more like whom, she had collided with.

"In a rush are we?" he chuckled, slick like honey.

Hermione blushed. She stood straight, smoothing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her stomach tightened, as she took in Dean Thomas stood before her in his tight, yellow Quidditch uniform. He held his broom tights in his left hand, and ran his right through his disheveled ash blonde curls. His uniform hugged his physique tightly. He was quite lanky, but muscular none the less. Dean grinned, he too a little out of breath due to the shock of the incident that took place.

Hermione finally cleared her throat, searching her mind for something to say,

"I overslept."

Dean laughed, rubbing his forehead,

"Not like the Granger we all know. I was beginning to worry."

Hermione found herself smiling. He was so cute.

"Why ever would you worry?" she asked.

"I thought you might of taken ill or something. And above all, that you wouldn't be able to attend the game today."

Hermione's smile faded. Guilt had taken over. She hadn't even considered going to watch the game that day, or to support Dean. How could she be so oblivious? Hermione wasn't a fan of Quidditch, but what she was a fan of was supporting her friends. And was most definitely a fan of Dean. The latter sensed her change of attitude as her brow furrowed. She looked away from his gaze slightly and fumbled with the strap of her bag.

"You are coming to watch, aren't you?" he asked, now frowning himself.

Hermione shook her head in disbelief of herself. She looked back to Dean and forced a smile,

"Of course I am," her voice was a little too chirpy, "I wouldn't miss it,"

"Good because I wanted you to know where to sit so you can...-"

Hermione lost interest in Dean. She heard a large amount of chatter and cheering. To her left, she looked just past Dean's shoulder, and to the corridor behind him. An ample group of males stalked forwards, laughing and shouting to each other. They each dressed in emerald green, their outfits identical to Dean's. The latter noticed Hermione's absence in attention and turned to look at what she was scowling at. The two watched as the Slytherin team advanced up the corridors, in their direction, or more to the point, to the Great Hall. As they reached the pair, Dean and Hermione took a step back out of their way. The rowdy teens barged through the archway, filing off into lines down each side of their house table. Many of them shouted over to the Hufflepuff, with remarks concerning the game that day and something along the lines of 'You noggin headed poo brains are gon' get crushed into a pumpkin pastie and eaten for tea, all for yours truly!' from Crabbe. The boy began licking his fingers in response. Hermione rolled her eyes at the imbecile. She was doubtful whether the broom could even lift him off the ground, never mind fly with him skillfully. She wasn't quite sure how he ever got on the team.

"Just ignore them-" said Dean, before someone shouldered into him from behind.

He fell slightly, towards Hermione, who was now pressed up, flattened to the very wood of the large archway. A familiar pair of eyes pierced into Hermione's. They were grey, and colder than usual. She scowled in return. The boy broke her gaze, and looked to Dean who'd now taken a step back to regain his composure and give Hermione some space.

"Sorry mate," Draco laughed, "Didn't see you there."

Dean forced a laugh, though a sneer still resembled on both of their faces.

"No problem, Malfoy," He said, a little more bitter than he probably should've.

Draco eyed Dean for a moment, before looking to Hermione. Her heart raced in the moment as flashbacks ran through her brain of the night she saw the two. She saw Draco with his wand held to Dean's throat and the scowls playing across both of their faces. She looked away from the Slytherin's eyes, thankful she didn't have to speak to him.

"Well," Draco said, "I'll leave you two alone,"

He spoke in Dean's direction, but stared at Hermione who's breath was still recovering from her sprint.

"Game on then."

The blonde turned on his heel and went to join his friends, who gave him an unnecessary round of applause as he sat down.

Hermione turned to face Dean, who was eyeing her from head to toe. Somehow, he had his hand resting just next to Hermione's head, on the wall. He was quick, Hermione didn't notice when he put it there. He studied her confused face, to the way she pulled her book bag securely on her shoulder. Hermione felt uncomfortable under his gaze. She felt the need to squirm and tell him to stop. But he looked up to her eyes and spoke,

"So I'll see you at the game, right?" he said, his voice low and deep.

Hermione nodded hastily in response, as the boy gave a final nod and pushed himself up off the wall. He stalked off down the corridor, in the direction the Slytherin team had come from, leaving Hermione to catch her breath and calm herself. She looked down, swallowing deeply, before leaning up off the wall and walking into the Great hall. As she approached the Gryffindor table, she ignored the turned heads and whispers of many. Instead, she slid into the empty space next to Ginny and instantly started piling food onto her plate. She wasn't quite sure why. She'd lost her appetite.

Ginny had watched the whole scene. When Hermione sat next to her, she turned to face her best friend.

"What was all that about?" she asked, ignoring the whispering girls, much like Hermione.

"Dean wants me to go to the game today," Hermione explained, her voice hushed as she shifted the food around her plate aimlessly.

Ginny broke a smile. She squealed a little, trying to excite Hermione, who seemed to be feeling anything but excited. Ginny raised her eyebrows,

"This is good!" she said, "Why aren't you happy about this?"

"Because,"

"Because what?"

Hermione rested her fork on her plate and sighed.

"Because I don't want to go on my own. Because I don't like Quidditch. Because I don't know whether this is right and because I don't know whether I like Dean. And because whenever I'm around him and he's with Malfoy he treats me differently. And because I don't want to witness Dean lose."

Ginny wasn't expecting that. She told her friend that she'd go to the game with her, although she couldn't fix all of her other problems. She also told Hermione to have some faith in Dean and the Hufflepuff team. Hermione felt somewhat guilty again. Ginny also said that she could explain everything else after the game, because right now, that was more important.

The heat was unbearable. Hermione and Ginny made their way towards the Quidditch pitch, along with many other students. Most of them were Hufflepuffs and Slytherins, all predicting the results of the game. It seemed that even the Hufflepuffs had little faith in their team too. As the pair descended down the large field, fanning themselves with a spare piece of parchment, Hermione spotted that arrogantly gleaming, blonde hair. She eyed Malfoy, who was positioned just behind a pillar outside the grounds. He seemed to be talking to Crabbe, who was nodding obediently. Draco looked around, cautiously. His face was serious, his brow furrowed. Hermione craned her neck to see the pair, watching the scenario in between the heads of passers by. She slowed a little, as Malfoy began reaching into his back pocket. He brought out a small pouch, and jingled it in the air. Crabbe seemed to understand, and nodded once more. Malfoy nodded too, and dropped the pouch in Crabbe's hand. He slid it discretely into his back pocket, receiving a pat on the shoulder from the blonde.

Hermione felt a hand tug at hers, and she turned to face Ginny instantly,

"Come on," she pulled Hermione's hand gently, "What're you looking at?"

Hermione shook her head, dismissing the comment. The two continued walking, Hermione taking a short glance back to Malfoy. He was alone now, Crabbe had gone. The Slytherin had a small smile playing across his angular features. He looked up from the grass and spotted a pair of chocolatey brown orbs staring back at him. Over the long distance that separated the two, Draco watched Hermione carefully, as she looked away instantly in response and entered the Quidditch ground. He kicked a stone as he made his way back to the changing rooms. What Granger didn't know, wouldn't hurt her.

"AND THE SCORE IS CURRENTLY 30-40 IN FAVOUR OF HUFFLEPUFF..." Lee Jordan exclaimed over the stadium microphone.

Hermione clasped her hands. She couldn't believe Hufflepuff were currently winning! This, too, seemed to be the thoughts of Ginny. The redhead took a hold of Hermione's hand and squeezed it re-reassuringly. The two smiled at each other before turning back to the game.

"AND IT LOOKS AS THOUGH MALFOY'S GOT A HUNCH!"

The crowd looked at Malfoy in unison. He took a sharp, 90 degree dive, speeding through the air. Dean seemed to see this too, and along with Lee Jordan's commentating, followed the Slytherin, hot on his heels. As Draco passed Crabbe, who seemed to be holding his beater's bat menacingly, the blonde nodded in his direction, and Crabbe nodded back. Draco took a swift turn and began to pick up speed, as Dean followed him, not too far behind.

"-IT LOOKS AS THOUGH MALFOY'S SPOTTED THE SNITCH! BUT THOMAS IS CLOSE BEHIND!"

Hermione found herself standing on her feet, craning her neck to see along with many other fans. Her eyes traced the two chasers, following their every move.

"-AND A BLUDGER JUST MISSES ANTHONY RICKET! AND NOW IT'S FLYING TOWARDS CRABBE, BUT MALFOY'S STILL ON THE CHASE!-"

The Slytherin team were a man down, yet they played better than Hermione had seen. She found it almost odd how they weren't winning. As Lee Jordan's voice echoed around the stadium, her eyes instantly flickered to Crabbe, who was holding his bat at the ready.

"-MALFOYS TAKEN A SHARP TURN!-"

Hermione's heart caught in her chest. She watched as Malfoy came soaring in the direction of Crabbe, Dean very close to his side. She shook her head, no, she thought, no! But it was too late. The inevitable happened. It turned out Malfoy hadn't spotted the snitch at all. The bludger came flying towards Crabbe, who hit it forcefully. He smiled, watching it repel in the other direction. It looked as though it would hit Malfoy, and the crowd stood on their feet. But Hermione knew.

"No!" she shouted, in return for a curious look from Ginny.

Malfoy, inches away from the bludger, soared upwards instantly. And Dean had no time. The bludger flew right into his side, connecting with his rib-cage and forcing him of his broom. The crowd gasped in unison, but no noise escaped Hermione's mouth. She watch, speechless, as the blur of his yellow figure, fell, and fell, and fell as if it were in slow motion. And he hit the ground as hard as the bludger hit him.

"-AND DEAN THOMAS IS DOWN!"

But Hermione couldn't hear Lee, or the crowd, who were booing in unison. She stood, ready to descend the stairs and run to Dean's side. But Ginny held her back instantly. She tried to free herself from the readhead's grip, but Ginny was strong, and she was helpless. Hermione watched as Malfoy swooped down on his broom, to Dean's side, and leapt off it instantly. He kneeled next to the unconscious Hufflepuff. Hermione shouted in objection. She didn't want Draco anywhere near Dean. And the tears began to well up in her eyes, as Ginny pulled her to her seat and hugged her tightly.

A day later...

Hermione didn't like hospitals. She didn't like being ill, or being around people who were ill. But this time she was a visitor, not a patient, and therefore she went ahead regardless. Smoothing a strand of hair into her messy bun, she opened the doors of the West Wing. They creaked tremendously, and Hermione cringed as she attempted to be quiet. As much as she tried, Hermione just couldn't be silent as she strode down the aisle to the only bed occupied. Her heels clicked on the stone tiled floor, and the sound rebounded throughout the lonely room, many times louder than she had hoped. She stopped, just before the metal frame, and looked. Dean lay in the bed. His arm was in a cast, and propped up awkwardly. He wore a plaid pajama shirt, which was open slightly in the heat. He smiled as Hermione walked in.

"Nice of you to visit, Granger," he said.

Hermione didn't like it when he called her Granger. It sounded all too much like a familiar Slytherin. The more she spent time with Dean, the more she began to realise that he and Draco were very similar.

"Hermione," she corrected, and he nodded,

"Forgive me."

Hermione sat gently in a seat that was already pulled up next to his bed.

"You've had visitors?" she asked,

Dean nodded.

"Who came?"

He said it was only a few members of his team. Hermione smiled sympathetically.

"Crabbe also came too," he said finally.

Hermione was taken aback. She knew that Crabbe was not one to apologize. Dean sensed this and laughed a little. Hermione noticed him wince slightly. She presumed the bludger must have done some damage to his ribs.

"He apologized and left. It was strangely unlike Crabbe, but I guess I can't comment. Accidents happen."

A pain struck through Hermione's heart, she held Dean's hand gently in hers. She knew it wasn't an accident. But what was her voice against a whole team of Slytherins, especially Draco Malfoy? Dean eyed Hermione's hands on his, as she watched him intently, and forced a smile.

"Dean," Hermione began, but paused to think. She looked at her lap in thought, and Dean watched attentively. After a period of silence, Dean spoke.

"Yes, Grang- Hermione?"

Hermione looked up and smiled.

"I was just wondering," she continued, "Do you know it wasn't an accident-"

"-What?" Dean said, frowning at Hermione.

The Gryffindor took a deep breath, and went to speak, but was shortly cut off by an alarm that was coming from a clock next to them. Shortly afterwards, Madame Pomfrey appeared from behind a curtain separating Dean off from the ward and smiled.

"It's time to take your medicine, Mr Thomas," she said, and then eyed Hermione, "If you'll excuse us, Miss Granger."

Hermione nodded instantly and stood, allowing the witch to do her work. She stood at the end of Deans bed, lost in her thoughts of whether to tell him how before the game, Malfoy had paid Crabbe to hit Dean. Once again, she doubted their friendship. However, she was snatched from her train of thought as she heard the door to the Hospital Wing open. Her stomach clenched as she recognized the Slytherin, strutting in her direction. He scowled at Hermione, robes blowing behind him as he advance across the small space that separated them. When he reached her, he stood by her side and looked at Dean. The latter nodded at the Slytherin whilst drinking some concoction from a goblet he held.

Hermione turned to face the tall boy. Dean became distracted whilst talking to the nurse, and Hermione seized the opportunity.

"I don't know what you think you're doing here," she whispered with a harsh tone, "And I don't see what business you have here either,"

Draco snarled,

"-I don't know what you're talking about Granger," he said, eyeing Dean who was still conversing with Madame Pomfrey

"-You know exactly what I'm talking about," she spat, sneering at Draco.

Draco clenched his bottom jaw and turned to face her. She looked up to the Slytherin, and noticed just how tall he really was. She'd never been in this close proximity with him which she was enduring now, and quite frankly, she wasn't sure whether it scared her, or made her feel quite the opposite. He looked down into her eyes, and she looked back just as well. Draco examined her from head to toe, jaw still clenched. He lingered on her mouth for a second, before penetrating back into her eyes.

"Could you leave your boyfriend just for one, tiny second, and give us a little privacy? Or are you too desperate to do that?"

Hermione scowled at him. The boy had some nerve. But she realised this was not the place nor the time to take up the opportunity to argue with him, and so she turned on her heel, and walked around Draco, heading to the exit.

Draco studied the space where she stood, as if she was still there, and took a deep breath. His heart had caught in his chest, and he wasn't quite sure the reason why. Neither did he want to think about it.

"Are you just going to stand there, or?"

Draco turned to look at Dean. Madame Pomfrey had disappeared again, and Dean was studying him with a furrowed brow. Draco, regaining his composure, eyed the seat beside him and sat in it casually. He leant forwards on his knees and shook his head.

"In a bit of a state, aren't we?"

"What do you want, Malfoy," Dean snarled.

Draco had tried to be nice, but that was not what he came here for. Quickly turning to check they were fully alone, he began speaking in a low, threatening tone.

"I told you not to do something stupid like this," he said.

"What exactly do you mean?"

"I think the questions is why are you still with Granger?"

Dean eyed Draco skeptically.

"Why do you care?"

"You see this?" Draco rested his hand on Dean's cast. The latter winced a little, as he shifted his arm.

"It's called karma. You're getting so caught up in Quidditch and look where it's fucking got you?"

"Once again, why do you care?"

Draco leaned into Dean, closing the proximity, his eyes now a stormy, chilling grey. Dean scowled at him in return, but he couldn't lie that he didn't like it when Draco was like this.

"Because, Thomas. Because you're stupid. Because you're family is a pureblood name and you're ruining it. Because on the summer before we returned here, my Father payed a visit to your Mother. We both know what's going on between them. And poor little Daddy Thomas is clueless. Do you think I want my Father adding another name to the list of people that he's fucking behind my Mother's back?! My Father made an unbreakable vow whilst we were as oblivious as your Dad was, and he swore that if your stupid Mum didn't tell anyone about their affair, he'd get me to watch over you and make sure you weren't a disappointment like your Father."

Blaise shook his head,

"If I wasn't in these casts right now, you'd be dead Malfoy. You'd be dead under your pile of lies,"

Draco scoffed,

"You think I'm finished?"

Blaise watched Draco, his eyes squinted and breathing becoming restless.

"And do you know what happened after that? Your Mother spoke to me. She told me about how your Dad is stupid, and pathetic, and how she wished that her son had turned out like me, and how I was the son she never had. Because your Father has downright feeble and piteous morals. She knew this year was important and she knew that you were going to mess up like him. You're the only one left to continue the Thomas family name and she knew you'd pick some idiot or mudblood, Granger. And do you want to mess up? Hm? Do you want to be a fucking disappointment to the whole of your family? Because if you carry on this way, you're going to. My fathers life depends on this. And you better play by the fucking rules, Thomas, or I swear to god I'll fuck you up. I've done it before, I'll do it again."

Draco stood from his chair and turned to leave. He halted momentarily, and looked over his shoulder,

"Do not mess this up."

It was easier for him. He knew what to say, what to do, he knew the right thing that was for Dean. Because he was in the exact same position as he was, and lived by the exact rules. He was a pureblood, and so much was expected of him. But he lived the life that he was trying so hard not to disappoint everyone with. And to sit and watch Dean throw all his morals away and do what mostly made him happy, was something Draco could never do. Or something he wasn't brave enough to do. He didn't want to watch someone mess up their lives, when he was messing up his own.

A/N: I am SO sick of writing all this Hermione/Dean stuff. Urgh, it makes me sick. But it is over soon, I promise! So now you get an understanding of some of Draco's motivation to 'protect' Dean. THIS NEXT CHAPTER IS A GOOD ONE, AND THE ONE AFTER I'M SO EXCITED. Dramione is growing out my bones I'm just exploding for the scene where I can finally start writing it. Also, FF isn't letting my change chapter names, any advice? I hate the whole Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three shit.

Don't forget review, good or bad, all feedback is appreciate and really motivates me to continue writing.

Thanks, Amelia x