Nott, Malfoy, and Granger had a surprisingly good time together, laughing their way through the rest of the match. Draco and Hermione even got to share conversation unrelated to wizard sports whenever they could actually hear each other over the waves of cheering erupting from around them.
Like all things, the match eventually came to an end. Gryffindor had somehow managed to pull a win out of their arses and students around our trio were quickly filing from the stands to celebrate in the Gryffindor common room.
Theo, Draco, and Hermione remained in their seats, letting their peers pass them. Draco did not want to have to part ways with Hermione yet so he was thankful the feeling was at least possibly mutual.
He was easily seeing what the version of himself from the future had seen in Hermione. Draco couldn't shake the guilt brought from how truly and utterly stupid he was to her for the past six years. The regret was not a fun emotion either. However, the butterflies swarming gleefully in the pits of his stomach were a welcomed distraction from those feelings.
A great enough distraction, it seemed, that he finally came back to reality when the girl beside him quickly jerked her hand and shifted ever-so-slightly away, her gaze casting shyly to their feet.
Draco's brows furrowed in confused panic before they quickly shot apart once more into a look of surprise at the older witch standing before them.
"Mister Nott, Mister Malfoy. A word. Head to my office immediately." Minerva McGonagall said curtly before turning on her heel and disappearing down the stairs.
"That song was a bloody work of art!" Theo gasped in protest, "Are all Gryffindor's such culture-less swines, Granger?" he goaded.
Hermione took the blanket, shoving it into her bag before clapping her hands on her thighs and rising from her seat. "I told you two to stop it." she paused, a smirk growing, "Now be extra careful with our trophies when you're stuck polishing them later, you two. I'm off to celebrate our win." She winked before she, too, made to escape the quidditch pitch.
The two boys sat, stunned. Theo began to chuckle as Draco watched her walk away, glancing one last time over her shoulder at him before she was gone.
"You're in deep already, aren't you, mate?" Theo asked, clapping Draco on the back sincerely. Draco said nothing, not wanting to admit the answer out loud.
"Let's just get going before McGonagall has too much longer to stew." he said finally.
Theo grinned, while rising from his seat. Draco's lack of answer was the most definite answer he could possibly give. His friend rose as well and they were off. Both knew exactly the reason that the Professor wanted to speak to them.
The two made it to McGonagall's office in good time, even going as far as utilizing a shortcut, just in case. They stopped in front of the door, neither ready to knock. Theo decided grudgingly that he would take one for the team. He gulped before rapping on the door four times.
"Come in." they heard chant from the other side.
The two shared a nervous glance. Now it was Draco's turn. He reached forward and grabbed the ancient handle, turning it, and pushing the door ajar. They stepped forward toward the large desk as Minerva placed her teacup down before her.
"Take a seat." They hurried to do so.
"Now, I assume you already know why I asked you here by the guilty looks upon your faces," she paused, "but it seems you must be a pair of blundering idiots to carry on as you have, knowing the circumstances."
Draco and Theo sat silent, staring at their respective hands.
"This has to stop. Unless, of course, you've had another visit from the future and Miss Granger is very much alive?"
This made each of them tense, a fresh pang of guilt radiating through each of their minds. Theo was the first to speak.
"With all do respect, Professor, it's not entirely our fault. Granger is relentless."
"As will be your guilt if history repeats itself at your hands." she said simply.
Theo bowed his head once more.
"What if there's another way?" Draco asked indignantly.
"By all means, enlighten us, Mister Malfoy."
"Well, in one of the memories, we were shown the aftermath of a battle. A battle here." At her shocked expression he stopped. "Potter wins! As I was saying, we watched as the Dark Lord gave instruction to Bellatrix Lestrange to kill Hermione. It was because..." he trailed, "because I wasn't on the proper side. I was a traitor. The one thing my older self stressed was the importance of that choice. He told me I couldn't stand on your side. With her. If I just fixed that—"
"Why did you two not instead go back in time to stop Bellatrix?"
"Yeah, mate, why didn't we do that?" chimed Theo pensively.
Draco shot a glare at Theo. "I don't know, Professor. I wish they would have, but they didn't. They seemed rather impulsive, honestly. Like I said though, if we just fix that day, this should all be okay." he finished hopefully.
McGonagall seemed to be considering what he had said. She spoke, her voice sad in the place of the sting it held moments before.
"Mister Malfoy, you know that is not safe." she began slowly, "If you truly care about Miss Granger, you would not gamble with her safety." she paused, "This goes for the both of you."
Hermione had made it to Gryffindor tower and climbed happily through the portrait hole. This day had been amazing, even while being forced to sit through something as boring quidditch. She stepped into the beginnings of the after party, ignoring the whispers that seemed to immediately nip at her ears from around the common room. She glanced around and saw Neville standing by a keg of butterbeer and decided she fancied a drink.
She approached him and he filled a glass for her before she could even reach for one. Hermione smiled.
"Thanks, Neville."
"You're welcome! Can't believe we won!" he grinned, giving her shoulder a squeeze and crossing the room to where Luna was curiously examining a tapestry. Hermione watched them joyously for a few moments before a wave of cheers erupted from the portrait hole to the heart of the room.
The winning quidditch team had arrived, Harry, Ron, and Ginny rounding up the back. The three looked rather disagreeable given the party around them and the fact that they had actually won the game that afternoon.
Hermione's face fell when she saw Ron's sneer pointed in her direction.
She chugged the rest of her butterbeer and made her way to them.
"Hey." she said with the least possible amount of enthusiasm. "You guys had a really swell game! Congratulations on the win."
"Like you were paying bloody attention." Ron announced, and all eyes pointed toward them.
"I hope you mean yourself." she quickly fixated the argument onto him.
"Really Hermione? You're going to play as if you don't know what I am talking about?"
"Honestly Ronald. If you want to do this, let's take it somewhere else." she replied reaching out for the sleeve of his jersey. Instead of allowing her to do so, he pulled his arm away exaggeratedly.
"No. I think I'd rather stay out in the open just so everyone can witness if you decide to twist the knife in my back a little deeper, thanks."
At this, Hermione's face turned scarlet in embarrassment, tears beginning to fill her eyes.
"How dare you?"
"How dare me?" he threw back, "You're off gallivanting through the halls with Nott and now you're showing up to quidditch matches with your sworn enemy? Tell her Harry."
Ron nudged Harry, but he only looked to his feet.
"Actually he's not my sworn enemy." Hermione spat, "but I see how it is! You are relentless Ron!"
At this time, Lavender moved to Ron's other side, kissing onto his neck and narrowing her eyes at Hermione, "What's the matter here, Won Won?"
Hermione wiped away a single tear, and straightened herself out, "If you'll excuse me, I have to go and vomit."
She turned on her heel and marched away from the party.
Harry followed after her moments later.
Hermione was perched at the bottom of the stairs outside the Gryffindor Tower. Before her, there was a flock of birds flying in circles, as if they were chasing one another. Tears were finally streaming down her cheeks. Sure she'd been humiliated time and and time again, but that never bothered her as bad as it did this time.
Harry sat down beside her, and watched the birds, laying his hand on her shoulder.
"He's..."
"Don't take up for him Harry." Hermione warned quickly.
"I wasn't trying to... He has a point though, you know?"
"And what's that? I'm a backstabber?"
"No. That's one thing I've never seen you as and never will. Ron is just jealous because he's crazy about you. He won't admit it out loud though."
"Yeah and that's because his emotional range is that of a teaspoon."
Harry chuckled, and Hermione even let out a somber laugh.
"I just want you to be careful, Hermione. Malfoy... He's... There is just something off about him."
Hermione stifled a sigh, "Isn't there a little something off about everybody?"
Harry nodded, "I suppose you have a point there."
"I always have a point."
"That you do." he said, letting go of another chuckle