Chapter 8 CRUSH OF SIXTEEN (2)
Draco did not lift the Disillusion Charm. The corridor flush with excited Griffindor students implied who the winner was. A group of sixth year students was walking ahead of him, talking ardently about the match.
"Oh...Harry is so great. Did you see his last catch of the Snitch? He is no less than any professional – he will be the Krum of Hogwarts!"
"Krum is only well-developed in body, while Harry is clever and brave – he is the boy who lived after all!"
"Says who liked Krum so much and nearly transferred school. And last year you said you wanted to date Malfoy and Harry was merely a deluded show-off –"
At this Draco was startled, and also felt a little pleased. The two girls continued to argue vehemently and then a dark-haired girl between them intervened.
"Well," The girl had criticized Krum added, "Draco is really handsome, isn't he? Whoever of you haven't dreamed of him? Besides, he's not so harsh and bullying now-"
"But he has also become cold and aloof. I dare to say no one has expressed her feelings to him."
"Yeah...Think about it. The handsome, quiet, yet indifferent prince, his dexterous fingers closing the book and flashing a smile exclusive to you...Do you think Fred and George's love potions will work?"
Longing expression settled on the girls simultaneously and the pleasure in Draco's heart faded. He felt a chill creep over him and wished the corridor was shorter. Since when had he established such an absurd image? He must be careful with whatever food offered by others from now on!
"Forget it, the two of them are too difficult and competitors are too many. Weasley is not bad too."
"Are you to compete with Lavender? She nearly fainted in excitement in the stands!"
Finally spotting a corner, Draco hastily turned into another corridor. There were more students there, the scattering silver and green were extraordinarily conspicuous in the sea of gold and scarlet. Lonely Slytherin individuals together formed the lonely Slytherin House. A Slytherin student would not spill out all his secrets to others, not even to the dearest friend, and at the exact moment Draco felt somewhat jealous of the heartily laughing Gryffindors-at least they had no scruples about cursing the damned Runes to harass their friends.
Hearing the discussions about the match, Draco's lips curled in a sneer. It seemed Weasley had put on a show today. Was it because of the lack of his cheers and applause? Weasley's Cleansweep Seven could virtually make it into museums, thought Draco maliciously. Perhaps an ancient broom produced decades ago could fly a distinct curve from those produced today that the Slytherin Chasers could not predict his direction?
Ancient...distinct...direction?
Draco could scarcely breathe. Ancient Runes! Directions! He could not believe why he had not thought of that. Modern Runes are far different from the ancient Runes. No wonder he could not translate those Runes using a modern dictionary. He rubbed his forehead with delight and remorse-had he paid attention to classes-why on earth hadn't he thought of ancient Runes earlier?
Finally seeing some light shed on his conundrum, Draco quickened his pace happily. Tomorrow would be weekend, and he was going to spend the next two days on ancient Runes. Now maybe he should go and enjoy the luxury of a free meal and then have a good sleep. As he was imagining the food, he turned the corner and saw two people wrap so closely around each other that it was hard to tell whose hands were whose. Alarmed by the indecent posture, Draco backed several steps reflexively before he remembered he was under Disillusion Charm. He sidestepped the glued lovers, trying to identify them by the color of their hair.
"Weasley...and Lavender Brown?" He murmured hesitantly.
As if sensing something, his heart leapt. Draco looked around carefully, and then through the crack of the door of an unlocked classroom he caught a glimpse of a piece of gray robes.
Hermione Granger was looking at the two people from behind the door.
All the blood in his body throbbed at his heart. Draco walked forward and halted five steps from the door. He was peering at her face through the crack and she was peering at the kissing Weasley. The scene was so hilarious that Draco nearly burst into laughter.
He watched moisture accumulate in her brown eyes and tears dripping down her cheek, every drop drumming on his nerves like heavy stones. She bit her lips tightly to smother her sobs while Draco clenched his fist to refrain himself from punching the red-haired arsehole. He knew if he really did it, the Gryffindor witch would only point her wand at him furiously.
The long, hot kiss-or nibble-ended. Brown stood up and pulled Weasley by the hand. She giggled, and hopped away like an antelope, forcing Weasley to bounce up and down with her. Seeing the two bouncing, gold and scarlet Puffskeins disappear, Hermione stepped back and sat on the teacher's desk, beginning to sob.
How sweet the youth of sixteen was... Draco closed his eyes, unable to see her sadness and his wretchedness.
The day was closing in and the torches in the corridor lit up automatically. It was time for dinner and the corridor was bustling, yet the intermittent whimper from the small crack kept creeping into his ears and grabbed him like Siren's song. He froze there, unable to move. He stood next to the door, just two steps from her, looking at her, gray eyes filled with sadness and tenderness.
All right, I'm here with you, no matter who you love. You are not alone and I will always be there for you. He thought despairingly. The brightest witch of her age in Hogwarts fell in love with her idiot friend. Wasn't it ridiculous? But who was he to laugh at her? He let the prince of Slytherin fall for the Mudblood in Gryffindor and let a natural Death Eater fall for a natural Oder member, so it was what he deserved-he deserved to forever stand in the shadow looking at her helplessly.
Gradually the crying ceased. The witch inside rose to her feet wiping the tears away. Draco squatted down slowly, took out a handkerchief from his inside pocket, and folded it carefully. After a pause he waved his wand and the color of the embroidered border changed from silver and green to gold and scarlet. He placed it at the door, and then turned and left quickly.
He felt what he need now was no longer the dinner. He should return to the Room of Requirement, practice some more spells and bury the prince's crush with numerous Runes.