Right before their first quidditch lesson, Hermione panicked. Draco was surprised that she had lasted as long as she had. He'd been expecting her to have spent the whole week previous freaking out.
Draco was a little nervous himself. He had been flying for quite some time, much longer than Hermione, but he hadn't attempted to do it while doing other things. But, he hid his nerves the best that he could. He didn't want to give Hermione any more reason to panic.
"There's no reason to be nervous," Lucius told the children. "We won't be doing anything crazy."
Hermione visibly relaxed. She still had fears about flying too high. Her broom wouldn't let her up more than six feet, but she was only comfortable around three. Low enough that if she fell she wouldn't get hurt.
Draco also relaxed, but Hermione didn't notice. She was too focused on continuing to breathe to pay attention to the subtle way that Draco stretched out his shoulders. Or the way his jaw unclenched.
"What are we going to be doing?" Hermione asked.
"First we're going to be going over the basic rules and positions. Then we'll do some ground exercises," Lucius said. "If, after that, you're feeling up to it, we might have you hover about a foot off the ground and toss the quaffle back and forth."
Draco and Hermione shared a grin. That was all stuff that they could do easily. Well, they hadn't ever played catch while floating, but they were excited to try. It couldn't be that much harder than regular catch.
The review of roles and rules went by quickly. Draco had practically drilled the players into Hermione's head. They didn't go into too much depth for the rules and regulations, however. After all, there were over four hundred ways to commit a foul.
Lucius gave Hermione a copy of Quidditch Through the Ages for her to read at her leisure. He was certain that Draco and Narcissa hadn't given her a copy yet. It would be redundant to get her a copy of a book she already owned.
She had smiled up at him with gratitude, her whole being beaming. It was so innocent, so thankful, so pure, that Lucius wanted to give her everything. It was so different from the smirk that Draco bore when he got what he wanted. It was closer to the smile he wore whenever he gave Hermione a gift.
She tucked it away in her bag before joining them for the ground exercises, saying hello to Narcissa who was having tea on the porch. It was a lovely day after all. And there was plenty of space between her and their makeshift pitch that no one felt she was spying on them.
The ground exercises were a bit tricky for two six-year-olds. They managed, mostly due to the boundless energy that all children seem to have. They were tired, but happy that they succeeded, when the ground exercises were done.
Lucius let them lie on the ground for a while. He was impressed by the way they joked and played together, working together even when they were tired. He had to admit that had he been actively looking, he couldn't have picked a better future wife for his son.
"Do you two want to try catching the quaffle, or are we done?" he asked after a while.
"I'm up for it," Hermione said. "Draco?"
"I'm ready. Just let me get up."
Hermione heaved a large and dramatic sigh. She stood up and extended a hand to Draco. He took it up and she pulled him up with what could only be practiced ease. He was about an inch taller than her, but she pulled him up like it was nothing.
When they were hovering comfortably, Lucius handed Hermione the quaffle.
"Hah! He gave it to me," Hermione said triumphantly.
Draco rolled his eyes. "Just toss the thing, would you?"
Hermione chucked the quaffle at him, aiming for his head. She didn't miss exactly, as he caught it with ease before it hit him. His smirk grew.
Draco tossed the ball back to Hermione. She caught it with surprising ease and grace.
From her spot on the porch, Narcissa smiled into her teacup. She was doing her best to watch them while not being obvious about it. She smiled to herself as Draco and Hermione tossed the quaffle around.
Lucius had been right. Hermione had the natural talents of a chaser.
Hermione found herself conflicted about watching Draco learn to play rugby. She was exceedingly glad that she had refused the offer to learn as well. She didn't want to get tackled. At least in quidditch one wasn't supposed to fall to the ground.
Draco loved it. He adored every messy minute. He was horrible, but he loved it. His enthusiasm was remarkably admirable considering how frequently he was pummeled into the ground by someone older and larger.
"Don't you ever get tired of it?" Hermione asked.
"Tired of what?" he responded.
"Tired of getting pushed into the dirt."
Draco looked at her like she was crazy. "It's a game, Hermione. They're supposed to tackle me."
Hermione shook her head, still amazed that Draco could think like that. "They're all bigger than you."
"They won't always be," Draco shrugged.
Hermione knew he was right. Both Lucius and Narcissa were tall. Narcissa was long, willowy, and elegant. Lucius looked closer to an ancient Greek sculpture. He exuded strength and power. And Draco was more likely to resemble his father.
"It still can't be fun," Hermione mumbled.
Draco laughed. "No one said I liked getting tackled. But I can't tackle other people and not expect them to do the same to me."
Hermione shrugged. She wasn't likely to change Draco's mind. He liked sports far too much for that to happen. He was very much like her father in that regard. She would stick with her books, drawings, and quidditch.
A/N: I know we didn't get to see Helena and John Granger this chapter. They weren't big parts for what I wanted to show. And Hermione's conflicted because she likes to watch Draco, but she hates seeing him get hurt.