Her eyes hurt, and when she became conscious she was rather disoriented and it took her a little while to get her mind to focus on the room that she was in. For one it was morning, and when Hermione had fallen it had been fading light, and for another she was lying in the Hospital Wing. She stared at the stone ceiling as she tried to remember what had happened the previous day.
It came back to her in a flash. Draco had seen her practicing, which was pure idiocy on her part and he had mentioned telling his father. Her throat began to tense and her stomach dropped. Malfoy would tell his father! All of her hard work would be defeated because of one simple instance of carelessness. Well not if she had anything to say about it she though with her vengeance kicking into full swing. She had listened to his whining, and his stupidity long enough. They did not call her the brightest witch of her age for nothing, and Ron and Harry certainly harbored no secret desire to place themselves on her bad side.
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Fine; he could easily admit that he had panicked when he saw Hermione sink to the floor like a stone. The fact that he could easily admit this was of little importance, seeing as how he would only admit it to himself and even then it was debatable. Hermione's eyes had just rolled back into her head and she had gone down hard to lie in an awkward lump on the floor. He stood there waiting for her to leap up and accuse him of knocking her out and then telling the teachers that he had done so, and he feared that not even Snape would have believed that he was innocent when it came to her because everyone knew his views on people of her sort. So after the realization kicked in that she was indeed out cold he was stuck with what exactly to do.
He deftly went to her side and shifted her over to check to see if she would wake. She did not wake up but he now saw that her nose was bleeding and that she looked rather pale even compared to him. Oh this was just Bloody fan-fricken-tasic he thought angrily. No one would believe that he was innocent. Swallowing his pride, and the annoying voice in his head that was
his father who told him to get an alibi and kick her before he left, he lifted her with the levitation charm that, ironically, she had taught him, he made his way to the Hospital wing by way of old and unused hall ways.
Madame Pomfrey bombarded him with questions about her state and how she got there before she shooed him out into the hall so that she could attend to the little miss. Draco was rather shocked at his good fortune; she had believed him fully and he had had the mind not to tell her about what he had seen Hermione doing before she had fainted.
'Now that was something,' he thought evilly.
Hermione, the amazingly stuck up teacher's pet that she was, had discovered a way to perform a magic so elusive, that the only wizards or witches that claimed themselves capable of it found themselves housed permanently at Saint Mungo's. The girl had done wandless magic, and that was something. He was lost in thought as he walked through the halls; this was
something that could prove to be the catalyst that turned the war in favor of the Light. Despite who his father was, Draco was hardly well informed, but when it came to the goings on of the war, he would have to be a complete nincompoop not to realize the stirrings of something sinister.
So for now, it all came down to one question. Just what was he going to do with the information he had chanced upon?
Telling his father would, obviously, be good for him…but not so good for the mudblood. It wasn't as if he wanted to spare her, but merely that causing her trouble would cause him trouble as well. Everyone would expect foul play from him and thus he would be forced to leave the school by his father and there was no way that he was doing that. Hogwarts may be filled with people who should not be allowed to breathe the same air as him, but it was home.
Here, he had a place, and a place of power at that. If her were forced to leave, the Dark Mark would be inked onto his arm and he would lose the power and respect he had spent years cultivating. Rather than menacing threats, he would be forced to make good his word and actually kill. The thought of spilling the blood of another human—even a mudblood—made him physically ill. It wasn't so much the blood itself, but more of what it stood for…the death of another at his hands. It was unimaginable.
He stalked into the Great Hall with the air of someone who owned the place and a seat in the center of the Slytherin table was immediately cleared for him in-between Crabbe and Goyle. Over the last few summers the two boys had only increased in size and it seemed to Draco that whatever brain that they had had been watered down to make up for the excess amount of flesh. They ate like the food would be taken away at any moment and Draco's upper lip curled as he watched them inhale eggs, toast and bacon all in large splattering bites. Blaise regarded everything around him with a cool eye.
"So Draco, are we finally going to win a game against those god awful Gryffindors or should I get ready for another week of hearing about nothing but them?"
Draco looked at his friend with a blank face. "I make no promises, but I am sure the daily practices that the team has been having will help. I want to smash that Potter's face into the goal post so that he never can walk straight again, let alone ride a broom." Quiet laughter was heard at the table as everyone resumed eating. Draco had long given up constantly making fun of the golden trio. Insults were commonplace, as if they were fact and he only ever used his good barbs for when he knew that they could hear or if he had some type of plan.
"So then should I bring out that Fire Whiskey my father sent me?" Blaise asked with a wicked grin.
"You, Dear Blaise should not be hiding alcohol, and we shall drink it win or lose, either to toast to the incompetence that is Gryffindor, or to drink to their vileness.
Blaise nodded as he resumed eating his breakfast. As Draco finished eating, after having almost completely blocked the mud blood from his mind, a voice spoke up from behind him as he went to leave the Great Hall.
"A word, Mr. Malfoy, if you will?" Draco looked back to see Dumbledore regarding him with that infuriating twinkle that resided in his eyes. "This way…"
He was being led to the Headmaster's office when he realized that he would be late for Arithmancy, which, in and of itself, was no great loss. He could not deny the sly tendrils of fear that began to take hold as he was being ushered into the old wizard's quarters.
"Fizzing Whizbees" Dumbledore said to the stone gargoyles there in front of his office that leapt deftly out of the way with the air of dancers.
Draco had to restrain the snort that threatened to burst up from that. Most of the strange people in the paintings were gone and those that were still there paid little attention to the two as they sat down. He cleared his throat and looked down at the young man in front of him. 'Oh how fast they grow up' he thought rather nostalgically. He chuckled as he remembered Draco's earliest years of Hogwarts. He certainly was no longer the little tyrant that had been mostly concerned with the fastest racing brooms or the irate adolescent that had been turned into a bouncing ferret. Over the years, Draco Malfoy had aged and become nearly too jaded for one of his age. The thought made Dumbledore sad for the loss of youth foisted upon many of his students.
Draco tried not to squirm under the Headmaster's unconsciously scrutinizing gaze and his random chuckle. Here was a man gone mad he thought warily, unsure of what he was in for he squared his shoulders and spoke up.
"As much as I would love to skive off Madame Lother's Arithmancy class, I still will have homework to get so if you would not mind explaining why I am here and not there?" He asked with polite words and a bored tone.
Dumbledore stroked his beard and replied. "I heard that your fellow Head girl was taken to the hospital wing last night."
Draco narrowed his gaze at the old man.
"Yes, I took her there myself, if you must know."
"Ah! Good! Then you may be able to tell me what exactly happened to Miss Granger that caused her illness." This was no question it was a statement. "Could you explain to me what happened?" He asked with a merry tone.
Draco face was calm but his mind racing. "I came into the common room and noticed that she was knocked out."
"So you are saying that you found her in the common room?"
"Yes! No! I mean no, her door was open and I could see her lying on the floor from where I stood in the Common room."
"Ah I see, and then what?"
"What do you mean what?" Draco replied with sneer in his voice.
"What happened after that?"
"Oh nothing, really. I went to check on her; she was out cold so I levitated her to the Hospital Wing where Madame Pomfrey took over. That's all."
"So you did not see what caused her to faint? Was there anyone else there, or anything suspicious?" Dumbledore's blue eyes bored into his own gray ones.
"Nothing that I can think of, I just came across her and took her to Pomfrey that's all."
Draco crossed his arms. "If that is all then I should go, I don't want my marks to suffer because I was tardy."
"Alright. Ten points to Slytherin." Dumbledore waved him out. As he reached the door, the headmaster called out one final question. "You did not see her conscious did you?"
Draco turned away and replied, "No, sir. Good bye Professor." And with that, he left.
Dumbledore knew that he was lying, but about what and why he did not entirely know.
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Hermione was given the day off and after assuring the school matron that she was perfectly fine, she was allowed to go down to the Quidditch pitch to watch the game with everyone else. The light from the sky was clear and gray. It suited her mood, but a thunderstorm may have been more appropriate she thought without humor. Hermione had to do something about Draco, what exactly she did not know but she would find a way to keep him quiet.
She had suggested a memory charm to Dumbledore that morning after they had talked but he had replied in the negative on that point rather sternly.
"But Headmaster! Draco saw! He knows that I can do it, that it is possible. He may be a right twit, if you don't mind my saying so, but he is far from moronic!" she was out of breath with worry and Dumbledore shushed her reassuringly.
"Even if he did see something, a memory charm would leave a blank in his mind and that and the magical scent that the spell leaves behind would alert Voldemort immediately of something amiss. In the very least, Lucius would be able to sense it. No, we must protect this information under better means. What these means are I cannot tell you but I am sure that you can work it out. Mr. Malfoy must not be allowed to tell of this power. This information from his mouth to others could spell grave danger for you, Miss Granger and I am beginning to think that it is high time that you present your findings to the most trusted of the Order."
Hermione momentarily forget her grievances over the malicious one that she was forced to shared responsibilities with.
"Oh really, Professor? I know that I am ready, just give me a week to prepare. I only have a few more spells to study and attempt and then I should be able to make a full presentation. Very soon we can begin teaching them how exactly to do wandless magic and they can teach others in turn." Her eyes sparkled in delight at the thought of teaching others to perform this powerful magic for the greater good…and finally being able to tell Harry and Ron.
Dumbledore looked at her warningly. "But you are not to overtax yourselfagain. This is very dangerous and even though you are an exceptionally bright student, your own powers have not fully matured. We do not need you fainting in your oatmeal," he smiled, "In the very least it will make your hair all sticky."
Hermione immediately understood what he meant. She was playing with fire and too much would get her burnt.
"So in a week's time then?" He arose to leave. "And I trust we will have no repeat performances for others?" Dumbledore asked hopefully with his blue eyes shimmering.
"I promise." She said, her voice low with will. Nothing would stop her, not even the Dark Heir to Slytherin.
So here she was walking slowly up the tall stairs to the Gryffindor bleachers. Lots of people had visited her to bring her homework and extra assignments that they glanced at warily. Her teachers knew her well enough to send extra whenever she was out. Ron and Harry had both vowed to get one back for her during the match. Both believed like they always did that it was a combination of stress and having to spend time with Malfoy, whom Ron remarked, "Is enough to make anyone sick." That lead to her recent bought of illness. It slipped that Malfoy was the one to bring her here and she was too tired to argue with them when they swore that it was him and that Harry would catch the snitch and shove it somewhere unkind and that Ron would be sure to bludgeon him into a bloody pulp.
It was after this round of good natured cursing and name calling that Pomfrey heard them and shooed them out with not a single trace of mirth on her normally kind face as she dusted her hands of the two arguing boys.
They left yelling that they thought a good game of Quidditch would cheer her up, and that they promised to mash Malfoy's brain in good and proper.
The last thing she heard was Ron saying what a good relaxing stress relief it would be to do so before Pomfrey shut the doors and asked Hermione to get some sleep.
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She smiled as she heard the cheers from above. Hermione head popped into the cheering crowd of Gryffindors and she made her way over to a madly waving Ginny. The fiery red head hugged her greatly and stammered out above the cheers.
"I am so glad that you are better! This is going to be a great game I can't wait to see what they ha…" The rest of her words were drowned out as more cheering rushed forth as the players walked out onto the pitch. Harry peered up into the crowd and elbowed Ron and pointed. Both of them waved madly at Hermione who was in the front row thanks to a rather aggressive Ginny, who smiled and waved back.
Draco was in a foul mood that was not improved when he saw the person that had distracted the two wankers. Well at least she was okay, he thought before his attention was snapped to the sharp whistle from Madame Hooch as she, yet again, reminded them to play a nice clean game just as she did every time.
He mounted his broom. The soft feel of the wood beneath his palms gave him the normal shiver of excitement that it always did. Here he was truly free. Here it was him being who he truly was. Here was his war, and in the sky was where his battles were fought. The glossy wood beneath him hummed, either from magic or anticipation, he couldn't tell. Every time he climbed onto a broom it was like the first time; the air, the wind, and the world rushing by his ears in a blur of sound and flight.
He would try his hardest, as he always did. The team was second only to the Gryffindors and even though he cringed at this, he had trained with a ferocity that had consumed him over the past few summers. Now, his last year here and both he and Potter were captains of their respective teams. Granger may be the smart one, but it was here that he wanted to win. It was here that he wanted blood, metaphorically speaking of course.
All he wanted to do was win, just once, against whom he grudgingly referred to in his head as one of the better players in the school. He would never go so far as to call him the best for he reserved that title for himself.
His mind went into flight blankness as he felt the elation of being almost weightless, and then the game started. No more would he taunt Potter from the sidelines, no more would he even pay attention to the other team. He was the Seeker and he swore to find the Snitch come Hell or high water.
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Hermione cheered with and booed with the rest of the student body. She had to admit that, after seven years of watching her friends play, the game was in her blood…even if she did have a tiny fear of flying. They had improved by leaps and bounds, particularly Ron, who in his fifth year became a beater the likes of which rivaled his brothers. She watched as Gryffindor scored another goal, bringing the total to 140 to 0. She felt that the Slytherins were failing rather badly, even though they were losing without resorting to violence of any sort. All their faces held looks of deep loathing generally present when they played Gryffindor, however their disgust was aimed at their Captain rather than the red clad players gliding about the pitch. Draco was swooping in and around everyone with pleasant ease. It was then, in an instant after Draco had been looking in Hermione's direction, that he noticed a shimmer of gold below him. It was then also that Ron sent a bludger speeding his way. Gasps were heard from the Slytherins as Draco began to dive, was hit hard on the back from the flying demon sent by the smiling red head, and fell from his broom. Unnoticed, a Gryffindor scored another goal in the very instant that Draco reached out his hand to grasp the desperately fleeing Snitch. Draco's impact to the ground made even a rather joyous Ron flinch as Hermione almost felt like she could hear the crunch above the crowd.
Cheers arose as the score was tied, both sides thinking that theirs had won and the cheering died down into a confused babble and then took on the volume of an angry crowd as Dumbledore went to the podium and declared a tie. The stadium erupted in both cheers and boos but Draco was not awake to hear either.
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He awoke in extreme pain and all he could manage was a weak mew. His eyes opened blearily to see Blaise sitting beside him calmly reading a Play Wizard magazine.
"Honestly, Draco. I had to chase your fleet of admirers away until I could be sure you weren't going to snuff it. I thought that you would want some time to compose yourself…you know, in the event that you did live and all."
Draco nodded his agreement despite the splinters of pain that shot through his neck.
"Now could you explain what exactly happened?" His voice was a little raspy and this annoyed him. It would not do to sound weak. He needed to collect himself as he silently thanked his long time friend.
"The game was a tie. That idiot Creevey got the quaffle in at the same time as you caught the Snitch. That other idiot, Weasley is the name, I believe, hit you in the back with a bludger. You have broken your collar bone and your left
arm, which is quiet impressive considering it was the one that you held, and are still holding, the Snitch in. Most of the teachers tried to pry it from your hand but for fear of causing further damage Madam Pomfrey told them to leave it."
Draco regained some sense of time and space and looked down to his arm where the golden Snitch was listlessly flapping its wings at random times. It was obviously as tired as he was. He flexed his fingers, ignoring the searing pain that flashed there and let go of the Snitch where it hopped merrily from his indented palm to flutter happily around his bed, humming.
"Shall I let in the hordes? Pansy is particularly interested to see you. I fear that they would have had to use a stunning spell on her just to pry her off of you."
Draco winced and then was silent for a few moments as Blaise blankly followed the Snitch around the room with his eyes. "Just one thing Blaise..."
He trailed off and took a breath, "Does a tie still include that bottle of…"
The sloshing of a liquid interrupted his words. The light caught the amber Whiskey and Draco leered into its depths. They may not have won and he was as sore as hell but at least he had that, he thought with something verging on happiness as Blaise handed him the bottle. It was unspoken that it was all for the Seeker. He felt his pains fade as Blaise went to the Hospital
wing doors and let in a mass of still cheering, some grumbling, green painted and flag waving group of Slytherins. Their cheeks were flushed and even though they did not win Draco smiled. He would take this. It may not be perfect, but it was close enough. He did not notice the pad and pencil amidst the mass of over flowing sweets, cards and presents. Draco could guess whom it was from though.
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Okay another chapter! Yes this one did not have any Draco/Hermione contact
at all….groan, well the next will… not actual contact but meah. I apologize
to my Lovely Beta, Cake who I told that I would send this to on Monday
and I here it is Tuesday being written…..bows thoroughly and begs for
forgiveness I set a schedule for myself and break it as soon as I set it!
Bad me! Next chapter Draco and Hermione face off! I know I have them
getting knocked out a lot and waking up again and I swear that it will
happen again in the next chapter and possibly more…
Oh and to the person who told me that Ron and Hermione are not destined, I
apologize, I should not presume to know anything that Rowling will write…I
am sorry bows You wont read this anyway but meah…I just thought that I would
get comments of people saying that Draco and Hermione were wrong and that Ron
and her were destined, but since that first chapter I have read many more fan
fics and see that people do not do this! Dances happily
William I am writing more…see this is more!
I kinda liked this chapter and I bet that I could have gone into more flight
detail for Draco but I refrained
Ps all here to dedicated to Tara, Root beer, Cake101 (beta Cake beta!)
Goddess of Angels, and Lauren! PSS to Cake, I know that there are lots of
mistakes here, my computer is doing that thing where it eats up letters when
you try to correct stuff so hopefully it won't be too terrible for you to
read! hugs thanks a BUNCHA! PSS CAKE101 RULES! She made my story even better! Even though I need to get used to different ideas, I did not change much from what you did! I 3 you!