Trigger warning. There is minor depiction of violence and blood.
November 14, 1998
"Ginny?"
"Hmm?"
"Care to remind me why we're here again?" Hermione protested as her companion searched for seats high up in the stands.
"Hermione, it's the first game of the year!" she answered excitedly. "Not to mention it's the perfect opportunity for me to scope out the competition." Ginny grinned mischievously, rubbing her hands together like a madwoman planning an evil plot.
Hermione only rolled her eyes in retaliation as she successfully spotted a place for them to sit.
"I know that's why you're here. But why am I here?" she asked loudly, the crowd suddenly becoming alive as the Ravenclaw players whizzed out onto the field in a V formation.
"Who's to say I didn't want us to spend quality girl time together?" Ginny asked before joining the crowd in their loud cheers.
"You mean other than the fact that I know you'd be lying."
The redhead tsked in disagreement.
"Not entirely."
Before she could get another word out, six figures clad in green had zoomed past them. The last one in the line up almost took the breath from Hermione's lungs with them and knocked her off balance when they passed. While holding down her hair as it attempted to break free from the copious amounts of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, she glared at the amused face of Blaise Zabini who simply saluted at the pair of Gryffindors standing out in the sea of blue, seemingly proud of himself.
While she was preoccupied with straightening out the aftermath of Zabini's antics, another figure flew past them who was successful in knocking Hermione off her feet, forcing her to fall back onto her seat.
Hermione angrily brushed aside the curls of her now unruly hair and reluctantly directed her attention to the seventh and final Slytherin player that had blazed past them. His speed was what made him stand out. And if his smaller stature didn't give him away, then the sunlight reflecting off his white-blond head did.
Though she did notice that unlike Blaise, this player did not address them after he passed.
Ginny fought back a laugh when the muggleborn witch huffed in frustration.
"Loving the new look, Hermione—"
"Oh hush, you. This took forever to tame this morning."
She only grinned at her in response.
"Oh, relax. They're just having a bit of fun. And don't pretend like you don't have extra potion in your bag."
"That doesn't make it any less infuriating." She grumbled as she dug through her bag in search of said hair potion.
The redhead sighed, "Anyways, I know you only used to come to the Gryffindor games to support Harry. And of course Ron in the later years but I thought you might want to come and support our other friends. Not to mention Luna will be the commentator for the game—"
Hermione glanced back at the players as they lined up in preparation for the arrival of the umpire to commence the start of the game.
Despite her apathy towards the sport, she'd be lying if she said part of her hadn't been looking forward to seeing the copious amounts of hard work and practice her classmates — it was still too early to coin the term 'friends' — endured finally be put to use. Though Gryffindor's match with Slytherin had been rescheduled to take place in the next term, she couldn't find it in herself to complain about being forced to this game. Especially when a small part of her was curious to see how Slytherin would perform under the direction of their new captain.
During one of their uneventful evenings of watching the potion, Malfoy had told her that he had been offered the position but declined. She didn't implore any further, knowing it likely had something to do with his other commitments but from what little he disclosed to her regarding the person who did accept the offer, it sounded like there would be significant changes implemented. Changes that would potentially provide everyone in the audience the once-in-a-lifetime chance to see Slytherin snag themselves a true and honest win for the first time in decades.
It also presented her an ideal opportunity to talk to him after the game.
As expected with what she learned about his weekly meetings, she didn't see him the entire day following their 'run-in' at Hogsmeade. Initially, she had the temptation to approach him the next day to discuss the events of the evening as the majority of them were still foggy to her. But when she caught a glimpse of him that Monday morning, a vision of her becoming hysterical in a mysterious man's hold and wrenching herself free before falling into him flashed across her eyes. She halted mid-step. Then she proceeded to turn around and walk in the opposite direction before he could catch sight of her.
The next time she spotted him outside of class was during the lunch hour. With Ginny and Luna at her side, they headed to the Great Hall where he stood just outside the entrance with a familiar brunette she was quickly recognizing to be a nuisance. The Pureblooded wizard didn't seem to notice them and continued to go on about the upcoming game this weekend. The first game of the season. Astoria nodded along, seemingly attentive to his controlled excitement. Until all of a sudden, her gaze shifted to Hermione as they walked behind her oblivious beloved, eyes narrowing and riddled with venom.
Hermione found herself glowering back at her.
Malfoy had trailed off mid-sentence, realizing Astoria was no longer listening to him and turned his head to catch the tail end of a head with bouncing, curly locks before they disappeared into the Great Hall.
Throughout the week, they adopted mannerisms similar to what they were at the beginning of the year where they constantly slipped past each other like leaves in the wind. Hermione knew in her case it was purely out of embarrassment as opposed to animosity whereas Malfoy's reasons were still unknown. Blaise and Theo — as shockingly loyal companions as they were — refused to disclose any further details regarding him or that dreaded evening. Or more accurately, they were hesitant to do so. Eventually, the bookworm deemed it would be best to hold off on pressing and let herself naturally recollect what had happened.
By the end of the week, she remembered everything.
Never in her life did she envision her inner circle would include members from all houses, including members of Slytherin house. Nor did she think she would be revisiting the active notion of removing Ron from that circle. As much as she wanted to blame him for her foolish and reckless actions, deep down she knew she had no one else to blame but herself. Moments like that evening made her wish she kept her time turner. Or if she could voluntarily obliviate herself to erase the part where she erratically blew up at her best friend and practically threw herself at her childhood tormentor in the midst of her drunk stupor, that would suit her as well.
There were days — many days — she spent wondering how she came to having the life she had now. Her old self would never have done these things. Pre-war Hermione would have limited her free time to primarily involve keeping Harry and Ron out of harm's way. She would have resumed keeping her head in her books. She would have continued to believe final exams were the one of the most important fundaments to life.
Pre-war Hermione wouldn't be spending her free time with Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood in Hogsmeade shopping for dresses and other materialistic possessions.
She wouldn't be helping the students who used to make fun of her looks and upbringing, ridiculing her in front of her peers.
She surely wouldn't be caught dead being bothered with known the one and only spoiled, bigoted Draco Malfoy in the way she had been all year. She would have never considered interacting with him as a normal part of her routine, or finding civil conversation with their endless topics of discussion ranging from the flaws of wizarding politics to proper ways of completing certain homework assignments. Not to mention her efforts in helping him avoid an unwanted interaction with his—
She's not my girlfriend.
—whatever she was.
She certainly wouldn't be letting him crowd her or tolerate him shoving her against a wall during a heated argument, bringing them in such close proximity for her to be able to smell his crisp scent emanating from his stiffened, dark form. To the point where she could feel his heartbeat racing rapidly alongside her own. With such a firm grip to keep her grounded, it forced her to face everything she had been running from—
Hermione shuddered at the foreign sensation the thought of that encounter set off in her. Shaking off the thought, she willed for the feeling to subside before she had time to dwell on it.
"Hermione?" Ginny implored, a hint of mirth etching in her tones. "Are you alright there?"
Hermione blinked rapidly as she surfaced from her thoughts.
"I'm fine. Has the game started yet?"
"No. We're still waiting for Madame Hooch to arrive." Ginny grinned wickedly. "Distracted, are we?"
"What? No! That's not what I was—" she trailed off. Ginny's smile only grew when the tops of Hermione's cheeks reddened.
"Relax, Mione. I'm just messing with you. Though I can't say I blam-oh! There's Madame Hooch. She's about to start the game!" Ginny whispered excitedly. She noticed the entire stadium had gone silent and everyone's focus was one place and one place only. Hermione finally looked down to the center of the field where a player from each team stood facing each other, dismounted and a woman carrying a case towards them. Once Madame Hooch reached the middle of the field, she set the case down and turned her attention to the tense players in front of her.
"Captains, shake hands," she demanded swiftly, watching the players intently as they warily carried out her instructions. Once they shook hands, she addressed the rest of the team suspended in the air. "Today brings us the start to a brand new season of quidditch and I anticipate you all will play your best," she declared loudly. "I expect a nice, clean game from all of you, am I understood?"
Once she received a seemingly appropriate amount of feedback, the case was opened. Immediately, the bludgers and the snitch freed themselves from their slots while she reached down for the immobile Quaffle and tossed it up into the air. Madame Hooch blew her whistle the moment it was caught by one of the chasers from Ravenclaw. And thus, the game had begun.
It was quite different watching two teams other than her own house play one another. Ravenclaw always held up their own fairly well in Quidditch but ambition wasn't the first on Slytherin's list of characteristics without good reason. They typically stopped at nothing to get what they wanted. Cheating and playing dirty was just part of the game as they have proven in years past. Except this time, they seem to have a new drive and motivation to win. There were no mischievous grins or immature taunts. There was no malice or evil scheming blatantly displayed across their faces.
Even Malfoy didn't appear to be antsy or on edge while he waited for the snitch to make its appearance. Though she had a strong suspicion that had something to do with the lack of Harry in this particular game. Every now and then, he would do a lap around the perimeter of the field before picking a random spot to remain stationary and observe. Hermione could only be impressed with his display of patience as well as the team's overall matured tactics and approach. Both sides demonstrated wit and determination but this time, Slytherin brought in something she had never seen from them before; the desire to prove themselves.
Needless to say, Ginny had picked a great match to force her to attend. Hermione didn't take her eyes off the field and her books laid forgotten in her bag.
"Elena, over here!" She heard Ginny say in the background.
"Hey Ginny." The former sounded relieved to have found them after getting past the crowds of people. "Thanks for inviting me to come along. Though I didn't expect to see you here, Hermione."
Hermione shrugged absentmindedly in response.
"She'll come to a game every now and then. How were classes this week?"
She pushed their casual conversation further away while she listened for Luna's airy voice as she continued to provide commentary regarding the ongoings of the game.
"—and it's Layla Cabbott from Ravenclaw with the Quaffle now! She's headed for the goal except there's a rather large Slytherin player directly in front of her...though I can't quite remember his name...I think it's Eddleman or Edenton—"
"Eddington!" came a voice from beside Luna. Even with the crowd at its loudest, anyone could hear recognize Professor McGonagall's callous undertones any day.
"Ah Eddington, that's right. Anyhoo, Eddington's guarding the hoop and there Cabbott goes, she aims for the hoop to score and—oh! And Zabini from Slytherin decided to come in to intercept. And it would seem all of Ravenclaw's chasers have taken an interest in him but look at him move! He's going so fast! I never knew a chaser could move like that—"
Her eyes widened slightly, knowing Zabini's agility and eversion were not skills he possessed previously. She then glanced up to where Ravenclaw's seeker was scowling at Malfoy who, on the other hand, was oddly composed. If anyone else decided to pay the seekers any mind, they would think he hadn't heard Luna's indirect complements. But Hermione could see the glimmer of pride in his otherwise stoic gaze.
Her lips twitched upwards.
"—he goes in for the goal and YES! That's 10 points for Slytherin!"
Hermione jumped from her seat and cheered loudly. Ginny snickered when she sat back down. "It's just a goal, Hermione."
"I'm aware. Your point being?"
"You seem awfully excited seeing as they haven't even won yet."
Hermione crossed her arms defiantly, "I'm showing support for our friends. Isn't that why I'm here?"
Ginny's expression morphed into one that she had seen on Malfoy's face many times before and Hermione didn't appreciate it one bit.
"They're really moving out there, aren't they?" Elena commented aloud. Hermione glanced at her quizzically.
"She's never been to a Quidditch game," Ginny explained.
"Really?" Hermione asked, surprise etching her tones.
Elena shrugged. "I've never really had a reason to come to one. None of my friends were on the team and I'm not particularly fond of violence as you know."
"What changed your mind?"
She received her answer when Elena began to flush but that didn't stop Ginny from adding in her remarks.
"She's here for the same reason you are...except she's honest about it," Ginny stated, tone riddled with mischief.
"I will have you know, I fully support everyone on each team and admire their dedication to a game I still believe to be heinously ruthless and unnecessarily merciless. But it mattered to my friends and thus it matters to me so if you think I'm strictly here for Malfoy—" effectively being cut off when Ginny's grin turned positively wicked.
"I don't believe I mentioned anything about Malfoy, Hermione." Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Elena refrain from smiling as she tried to suppress her amusement.
Hermione pursed her lips together, unwilling to protest or continue this conversation any further.
Luna's light voice continued to travel throughout the pitch, keeping everyone engaged in the game. Unlike most commentators, she had the capability of providing more details than what was needed or desired. Though it helped when one was unfamiliar with Quidditch. For Hermione, it pointed out strange plays she wasn't familiar with and fouls that she didn't quite understand. Luna always had a rather abstract approach to most things in life. Which was why it was beneficial to catch on to the subtle — yet obvious when mentioned — plays;
"—I'll admit I've never really followed this sport too closely but I thought a beater's purpose was to knock players off their brooms. Quite honestly, I'm surprised I haven't called out an injury yet."
She did make a fair point. The beaters, particularly the ones from Ravenclaw, were typically notorious for their ruthlessness, one of them being the other Cabbott twin, Loki. She recalled when they nearly won a game against Gryffindor a few years ago due to their beaters eliminating the players one by one, thus preventing them from making any goals. Until Harry was the last one standing and caught the snitch in the nick of time, just seconds before he too had been knocked off his broom.
Luckily for him, he woke up in the hospital later that evening.
Then something stood out to Hermione as she thought of the previous games she attended.
"Ginny?" She felt the redhead come to stand beside her. "Do you see the second bludger anywhere?"
"Hmmm...I don't but I'm sure it'll turn up eventually. They do like to fly off on their own, sometimes."
Hermione hummed as a half-attempt at an agreement while she recollected the game's progression with a quizzical expression. She didn't recall seeing the second bludger since Madame Hooch released them.
Then Luna's voice tore her away from her thoughts;
"Here comes Prince from Slytherin with the quaffle, diving for the goal—" she announced. "Keeper Cabbott is in place, ready to intercept. Meanwhile, Ravenclaw's Beater Pensen is approaching with the bludger. Wait...is...is Cabbott knocking the bludger away with her broom? She's preventing it from interfering with Prince...and he scores! That's...another 10 points for Slytherin—" she revised, bemused.
"Interesting. It's like Ravenclaw is trying to give them the game," Hermione said aloud to herself.
"They could have panicked." Ginny offered. "It happens more often than you'd think."
"Their choice of plays aren't making any sense, either."
Ginny looked at her in shock. "The plays? How in Merlin's beard do you know about—"
"I only know from what Harry has told me about certain tactics. It's not much." Hermione quickly interjected. "Malfoy tried explaining a few to me as well.
"They could just be having an off start," Ginny admitted, still in awe of her friend's admission.
Hermione continued to press, her brain on overdrive from trying to find answers.
"I doubt it. Most of those players out there have it out for Slytherin. They had countless opportunities to score and yet they took none of them. And now they're letting them score without interference?" Hermione gnawed on the inside of her cheek, letting the unsettling sensation brew in her gut. Something didn't quite sit right with her. "What if...what if it was intentional?"
"What are you saying?" Ginny asked, curious where her companion was going with this.
Loud exclamations of shock from the crowds robbed them of their attention.
Both witches looked to the field simultaneously as they tried to discover what had just transpired. Their eyes landed on an unconscious Ravenclaw player on the ground. Then Ginny whipped her head around.
"Elena, what happened?"
"The Cabbott boy knocked the bludger behind him and hit one of his own teammates," she answered frantically. "It appeared to be an accident. Though it was strange. He had three other Slytherin players in front of him he could have targeted."
Hermione's eyes narrowed into slits as it caught sight of the object one of the three players held in their hands. The quaffle.
"Ouch," Ginny winced at the sights below. "By the looks of it, Gates may have a concussion." She concluded, worry etched into her tones as she turned to address Hermione.
The curly haired witch paid her no mind. Instead, she was witnessing a seemingly indifferent Loki being scolded by other players. With the exception of his sister who's apathy was comparable to his own.
Once the injured player was taken off of the field, the game continued. This time, she kept her focus on the bludger as it made its way around amongst the players. When it eventually made its way back to Loki Cabbott, she kept a closer watch on his body language.
Why is he moving the bludger around like that? She thought to herself. He's being awfully cautious with a somewhat harmless ball.
The bookworm flickered her eyes between the two balls that were currently in play on the field. Taking the Cabbotts' strange behavior into consideration, she quickly realized there was a recurrent theme; the lone bludger and quaffle hadn't been near each other the entire game. In fact, Ravenclaw maintained possession of the bludger for the majority of the game and their seemingly sporadic actions made it such that both balls were kept at a reasonable distance. Then the question she directed to Ginny came back to her;
What if it was intentional...?
They couldn't be playing to win.
No...there had to be a more sinister plot at play here.
Hermione sat straight up and redirected her focus to the players who were consistently placed in the epicenter;
The Cabbotts.
She didn't know too much about the boy other than the tragedy he shared with his sister in regards to the unfortunate fate their parents endured. She suspected the siblings grew closer as a result.
She spends so much time with her brother, you'd think they were partners.
It was an incident his twin made evident to most of the student body with her explicit resentment towards the majority of Slytherin house. Even to her potions partner despite his friendly approach and benevolent nature. The most recent Hermione had heard regarding her was when Nott complained of her persistence to complete the potion several weeks ago.
She's acting like the first quidditch match coming up is the deadline.
The deadline for their hyperactive potion with erumpant parts.
Suddenly, the words from Slughorn's lecture filled her head;
—potions involving erumpent parts in their creation are notorious for their reactivity. In more recent years, they used to be used as a sort of weapon, designed to combust upon impact with another substance.
Perhaps the reason their passes weren't playing any sense was because they had an ulterior motive from the very beginning.
They weren't playing to win at all.
They were plotting to kill.
Hermione felt the air leave her lungs as she willed herself not to lose her composure. Certainly not when she first needed to figure out if there was even anything to get worked up about. No...now, she needed to concentrate. She thought and pondered the worst case scenarios as years preparing for the war had trained her to do.
With the ongoings in her surroundings, her senses were forced into overdrive, making it immensely difficult for her to focus. Then again, she could be overreacting. All of her worries and panic could be for nothing. Overshadowing her uncertainty was the request McGonagall made at the start of term.
Though I know a good few whose families suffered a great deal by the hands of some of our very own Slytherin students and their elders. Some may not take kindly to sharing a class or a corridor with each other and may seek retaliation by drastic measure. Given what you just told me about the trials and what you are capable of, I feel it is safe to trust your judgement and would like you to keep a close eye if you are able. Many are still suffering as an aftereffect of the war and I want no accidents—
I understand, Professor. I'll do my best...
Hermione shook her head to rid herself of the doubts. Now was not the time for second guessing and what ifs. If carrying Harry and Ron through school and the war over the last few years had shown her anything, it was that they trusted her instincts for good reason. It was the very same reason McGonagall entrusted her with such a daunting task. She had the chance to prevent something awful from happening to any one of the people she dared to call friends.
And she sure wasn't about to let it start today.
Her train of thought continued.
If Ravenclaw had the intention of harming someone, anyone on the opposing team was a likely target. She ruled out targeting the entire team as the risks of pulling an attack that large of a scale would risk injuring many of their own and innocent bystanders. Then there was also the factor of who was likely the culprit, or culprits, behind this elaborate plot. The Cabbotts were notoriously clever and obviously had taken the time to plan everything out. Even under the discretion of their teammates. If they were aiming for only one player, they would have to be absolutely sure they would be in one place for a certain amount of time so no one else was harmed.
Then the answer came to her.
"Ginny?" Her voice had elevated slightly in pitch. "Could I borrow you for a moment?" She tugged lightly on her sleeve.
"What? Why—hey!" Ginny yelped when Hermione tugged her forcefully by her robes.
"Hurry up, will you?" Hermione whispered urgently before turning and exiting through the nearest stairwell.
Ginny groaned dejectedly and turned her attention to Elena.
"Give us a moment, would you?" she threw back calmly before she followed suit.
"Hermione?" The redhead called out as she descended down the staircase. Hermione had stopped at the first landing, staring out onto the field.
"Mind telling me what's gotten your knickers in a twist?" Ginny hissed as she took a place next to her. But Hermione's mind was elsewhere.
"We need to get closer," she shot back, agitated. She had hoped to be able to spectate out of sight from the players so as to not raise any suspicion but when she saw how far away still, she knew they needed to get closer. "Come on." she commanded lightly before darting down the next set of steps. Sometimes taking two steps at a time.
"What? Hermione, wait!" Ginny yelled in hopes of getting her to slow down but it was a lost cause.
"Why are you trying to get closer to—whoa!" When she reached the bottom of the stairs and went to step foot onto the field, she was jerked back instantly. They stood at the bottom of the staircase still hidden from view with more than a dozen Quidditch players cruising at rampant speeds at varying altitudes above them. Seeing as she was used to being the one on the broom, Ginny lost her words at the sight before her. But Hermione wasn't fazed in the slightest. Her eyes darted about the skies, completely neglecting her companion who still required answers.
"Hermione, would you please tell me what's going on?"
At her desperate plea, Hermione wrestled her eyes away from the players for a brief second to address her. After a moment's beat, she finally answered.
"This may sound completely mental," she started carefully. "But I think Ravenclaw is up to something."
"Okay," Ginny trailed slowly. "Up to what, exactly?"
Hermione swallowed. "I think there's an erumpant potion on that field and someone on Slytherin team is the target."
Ginny's clenched jaw went slack.
"Come again?"
"I-I'm not entirely certain but I have a hunch—"
"Why would you—who would even—?" Ginny asked in a rush, stumbling over her words. "The entire Ravenclaw team?"
"I don't think the entire team is behind it." Hermione admitted. "I think it's mainly the Cabbotts."
Ginny mulled over her words. Sure, their playing today wasn't their best and people have died from the sport although many more have met their demise simply from attempting to make said potion.
"Where would they even get an erumpant potion?"
"Nott's and Cabbott's potion was declared live as of last Friday," Hermione quipped.
"Slughorn never told us that," Ginny stated in a stunned hush. "And the deadline isn't for another month."
"Nott told me when they submitted it. He said she was adamant about finishing their potion quickly and I don't think it was to obtain full marks. I hardly think it's a coincidence that she desperately wanted it completed before the first Quidditch match."
"But erumpant potions are dormant unless provoked, correct? Wouldn't it need to react with another substance to combust?"
"Both balls on the field have been kept at great lengths from each other. It's why their plays aren't making any sense. Not to mention there's still the case of the missing bludger."
Ginny's apprehension was evident.
"I don't know about this, Hermione—"
"If you don't believe me, you can go back up to Elena—"
"It's not that I don't want to believe you. It's just...it's a bit much, don't you think? It's an elaborate plot to begin with and you honestly think they have it out for Slytherin enough to pull off something like this? You know erumpant potions used to be used as assassination methods."
"Yes," Hermione confirmed, without a trace of hesitation. "You weren't there for the trials over the summer. The Cabbott's parents were on the list of tortured victims whose bodies still haven't been found to this day."
"So they have a motive. But that doesn't mean they're aiming to inflict an erumpant potion which, need I remind you, can kill people. Besides, nothing's even happened yet."
"I think they've been stalling."
"For what?"
"For the right moment."
"But even if they were to succeed, they could risk injuring one of their own. No matter how good a player's aim is, everyone is moving very fast. They'd have to target someone who doesn't move for the majority of the game—" She trailed off, finally catching on to Hermione's theory. Ginny's face grew pale. "You...you don't think—"
But at Hermione's grave expression, she knew she'd caught on.
"I need to get to him," she went to make a run for it towards the middle of the field.
"Mione, wait." Alas, she was jerked back by Ginny's firm grip on her wrist. "If you're wrong about this and you interfere with the game—let alone, with a team's seeker—"
"I'm aware of the repercussions, Ginny," Hermione interrupted sharply, wrenching her arm from her hold. "But I refuse to sit and watch from the sidelines because if I'm right about this—" she bit her lip to refrain from finishing her sentence.
If she was right about this, they would likely be seeing a dead body at the end of it all.
His dead body.
Determined, Hermione glanced upward.
"Look," she quickly pointed at Layla who was roaming about the field with the quaffle in hand, in no apparent hurry to score a goal. Hermione's eyes flickered back to Malfoy who was currently stationary in the middle of the invisible circle she formed, completely oblivious of her intentions. At the last minute, she tossed the quaffle to the next person available, likely to avoid suspicion yet keeping it in the vicinity. "They're hovering and keeping the quaffle in range. I need you to go and grab Professor McGonagall while I try to get his attention."
"He's hundreds of feet up in the air, Mione! How do you plan on—"
"For Godric's sake Gin, I need you to focus." Hermione blurted out in a form of a demand, desperation seeped in the undertones as she attempted to remain calm. Ginny's eyes widened slightly. "We are running out of time. I made a promise and I intend to keep it. Now please, go get McGonagall and I'll do what I can."
Without another word, Ginny closed her agape mouth and made her way towards the stands where the professors sat.
Hermione turned back to face the field, tilting her head up to where the players were suspended in the air above her.
She felt her stomach drop when the twins glanced at each other, malice and hatred in their gazes. Before she could stop herself, her legs carried her out onto the middle of the field until she was directly beneath him.
"Malfoy!" She shouted, knowing fully well the chances of him hearing her over all the noise were slim to none.
Or so she thought.
Her breath stuttered when she saw his face scrunch slightly and he looked over to where she was sitting in the stands previously.
So she called for him again. This time, he shifted his attention straight down. Then his eyes found hers.
With a frantic expression on display, she waved her arms as a gesture for him to move from his spot but he only furrowed his brow at her, completely befuddled as to what she was doing in the middle of the field.
Her eyes gravitated towards the bludger which fell into the hands of Loki Cabbott who was conveniently positioned a fair distance behind the unsuspecting blond. Instead of hitting it back, the beater held onto it.
On the other side of the pitch, his sister had caught the Quaffle once more and instead of flying towards the hoops, she turned her broom to face the opposite direction to head straight for him.
The silence fell on Hermione's shoulders. Luna wasn't even commentating anymore. Meaning she either became distracted or she realized something more sinister was at hand.
If it's too reactive and you do not have a buffering potion on standby, a strong shielding charm should suffice. But you best make sure it's good.
High on adrenaline and desperate for a solution, she quickly extracted her wand from the pocket of her robes and pointed it directly at him.
She felt a pang in her chest when his silvery eyes widened in shock and confusion but there were no other options.
Time had run out.
"Protego maxima—"
A large, white beam emitted from her wand and headed directly towards him. Just as it began to engulf him, the bludger and quaffle collided, exploding into fragments of shards and dust that shattered across the entire arena. A loud boom filled the pitch and with the force of the blast, Hermione was knocked off her feet, dropping her wand as she fell back on the ground. Screams of horror were dispersed amongst the crowd as a thick plume of smoke spread from end to end but Hermione was only able to hear the ringing in her ears.
When Hermione opened her eyes, all time stopped when she saw his still figure fall from the cloud of smoke. She could do nothing but watch helplessly from below as he plummeted towards the ground.
It felt like an eternity had passed when another figure clad in green suddenly swooped down from the smoke on their broomstick, catching the unconscious blond mid-flight.
Blaise.
She let go of the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding this whole time. Blaise quickly hopped off from his broom and lowered it to ease his injured teammate gently onto the ground.
His mouth was moving but she could only make out a few of the words with how fast and frantic must have been talking.
"...still breathing...pretty bad...blood..."
She only nodded and knelt to the ground, crouching beside his still form. Thankfully, it didn't take long for the ringing to subside as she was able to recognize the sound of other people shuffling towards them from behind.
I thought something was off about the game, she faintly heard Blaise say to whomever was behind her but she didn't acknowledge either of them for nothing else mattered in that moment.
The brunette trembled, taking in his even paler complexion and bloodied uniform. Without thinking, she cupped his face in her palms. His skin was growing cold. And fast.
"Malfoy?"
No response.
"You!"
Hermione released her hold on him and looked up to see an irate Layla Cabbott marching up to them, wand out and pointed directly at her. "You ruined everything!"
Instinctively, Hermione stood and placed herself between them.
"Stay back."
"Step aside, Granger. That monster needs to pay for what he's done." she snarled.
"I think you've done enough."
"Why are you defending him?" Cabbott nearly shouted. "For years, all he did was torment you! He hates everything you stand for!"
"He's here to make things right. He deserves a second chance."
"You've gone soft for him, haven't you?"
"I didn't realize not wanting him dead was classified as going soft—"
"You know he would've killed you on the battlefield if he had the chance—" Hermione willed for her heart to settle back in her chest. You're wrong. He wouldn't have, she thought. At least that was something she knew for a fact. "Now step aside so I can return the favor."
"If you want him, you'll have to get through me," Hermione stated boldly, despite having dropped her wand in the middle of the explosion.
"So be it," Cabbott hissed. She went to cast what was likely a hex except the wand in her hand ejected and flew into the air. They watched it as it fell straight into the hand of an infuriated McGonagall.
"Stand down, Miss Cabbott," she warned.
With a shout of anger, Layla ran towards Hermione but was tackled to the ground before she could reach her. She let out a yelp of pain when Professor Greeves held her arms on her back and summoned a pair of magical cuffs to hold them in place.
"I do believe I told you to stand down," McGonagall tsked disapprovingly. "Get her into my office and notify the aurors immediately. We will need to take legal action for this one. And find Mister Cabbott as well. It would seem he decided to conduct a disappearing act."
As they were taken off the field, Hermione turned her attention back to the blond laying on the ground, covered in bruises and dried blood.
She crouched beside him, willing for him to open his eyes and give any sign of life. She hoped if she stared long enough, he would sneer at her. He would tell her she was too close and that she needed to stop staring at him. At this point, she could do with just about anything.
"Miss Granger? Are you listening to me? Miss Granger?" McGonagall was talking to her but it didn't seem like her words were registering. Then she felt tapping on her shoulder.
"Hermione?" Ginny. "Hermione, we need to back off. They have to take him to the hospital," she whispered to her.
Blinking out of her stupor, she nodded shakily.
"Right...right," once Ginny steadied her, she let the redhead lead her away to give them the space they required.
The pair, along with both teams, watched in silence as they lifted his limp body from the ground and took him away from the pitch.
So much for the start of a promising season.
Hermione stood outside the hospital wing, awaiting for Madame Pomphrey's word to allow visitors. With the damage she could visibly see on him, she anticipated a long wait.
"You really shouldn't be here," a scornful voice came from behind.
She turned her head to come face to face with Astoria.
"Last I checked, the hospital welcomed all visitors," Hermione stated passively.
"Visitors who in some way mean something to the patient," she quipped defiantly. "He won't care to see you."
Hermione had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. A gesture she had become more familiar with in the last few weeks, especially.
"I think I'll take my chances."
"So you can take the opportunity to slip him a death potion?" Astoria accused.
"If I wanted him dead, I wouldn't have intervened."
"Or maybe you went along with the plot so he would suffer the most. How else would you have 'seen this coming'?" she implored, putting emphasis on the last bit of the phrase with quotations.
Hermione huffed a sarcastic laugh.
"Because I actually paid attention to the game instead of staring at him the entire time." The curly haired witch took pride in the rage that surfaced from within her.
"That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble, you know."
"Like yours is any better," she shot back, recalling how she spat off countless accusations the day she stood up for Malfoy.
"You don't know a damn thing, Granger," she hissed.
"I'm just here to make sure he is doing okay."
Astoria scoffed pretentiously, crossing her arms.
"Oh, give me a break. Don't pretend like you care after everything that's happened between you two. Unless...you're finally willing to admit the truth."
"What truth?"
"That you lied to me from the very beginning. That you do have feelings for him."
Hermione's jaw dropped slightly, fully closing it when McGonagall stepped through the doors. Before she even had a chance to speak, Astoria had beat her to it.
"How is he? Will he be alright? When can I see him?" She asked frantically.
"Calm yourself, Miss Greengrass. Mister Malfoy will be just fine. Madame Pomphrey was able to heal the majority of his injuries from the attack but he will need time to recover—"
"When can I see him?" She tried to brush past the Headmistress but was stopped in place.
"You will be granted entrance when he is awake. In the meantime, Miss Granger. Do you mind? I would like to have a word."
"Excuse me? I'm going to be his bloody wife—" Astoria exclaimed, utterly outraged.
"I'm afraid I am in agreement with her, Professor." Hermione admitted, equally shocked that even she was being put before the person he was to wed.
"To my understanding, the status of your betrothal contract remains pending, am I correct? Or has Mister Malfoy finally provided his full consent to your arrangement?" Hermione was too preoccupied with trying to appear neutral to notice the way their headmistress's eyes flickered over to her briefly. "Seeing as Miss Granger played a vital role in his survival, I would think it appropriate for me to discuss certain details with her."
"But—but I—" Astoria stammered. Hermione bit the inside of her cheek to refrain from grinning in satisfaction.
"Please return to your dormitory, Miss Greengrass. You will be the first to know when he wakes up. You have my word."
Astoria huffed and turned on her heel to leave. When the door slammed shut, Hermione glanced with uncertainty at the elder woman.
"Please, Miss Granger. Come in. There actually are a few matters I would like to discuss with you."
Without another word, she stepped into the wing and let her eyes fall onto the one of the occupied beds. Without realizing it, she picked up her pace and walked up to his bedside, taking a seat at one of the chairs placed next to him. Thankfully, most of the ash and dried blood had been cleaned from his skin and he had been changed from his soiled uniform into a gown. From what she could see, there were several cuts on his face and his head had been bandaged. She didn't even want to think about what damage lay beneath the sheets.
Luckily, yet unfortunately for her, she had her fair share of experiences in the wing with both Harry and Ron being heavily involved with quidditch. Despite who the victim was, she couldn't help but notice similar feelings begin to arise. She liked to think it was due to her frequent visits in the past.
"I fear I have neglected to consider how you are feeling." Hermione tilted her head at her, curious where the headmistress was going with this. "If Miss Greengrass has been giving you trouble—"
"I failed, Professor." The words that tumbled from her lips surprised herself almost as much as they did the elder witch. It had been her greatest fear for as long as she could remember and she just willingly admitted it without hesitation.
"How on earth did you come to that conclusion?" The elder witch asked, appalled.
"That attack nearly killed him—"
"Nearly killed is what's important to note. If you hadn't seen it coming, it would have killed him." McGonagall emphasized, taking a seat across from her on the other side of the bed. "You saved his life. You did a great deed today, Miss Granger."
Guilt-ridden into silence, Hermione could only stare at the boy occupying the bed in front of her. Even when he treated her poorly in their childhood years, she never once wished to see him on his deathbed. And now that he had been trying to redeem himself all year...
He truly didn't deserve any of this.
"Forgive me for being frank, Miss Granger. I couldn't help but notice a slight...change in regards to your relationship with Mister Malfoy." The bookworm made no sort of acknowledgement towards her statement. So she continued. "I will admit I'm not as attuned to the ongoings as Albus was. Nor am I a regular consumer of the gossip you and your fellow classmates conjure. But the change is obvious. You're not inducing any accidental magic by rage, your arguments aren't nearly as frequent as they were. You're cooperating well in regards to your assignment. Professor Slughorn has sung his praises about you two. He was most impressed with your progress. As am I."
Hermione mulled her words. "I appreciate your sentiments, Professor though I can't say it was purely coincidental. You see, I believe there were exterior forces at play as well." She threw her a smirk even Malfoy would be proud of. "You wouldn't happen to be conspiring behind our backs, would you Professor?"
Professor McGonagall was taken aback, caught off guard by her bluntness. "I...may have had something to do with the decision, yes."
"But why?" Hermione asked, genuinely curious.
"When you've lived as long as I have, you see so many young faces with much potential. I've even seen a pureblood and muggleborn who desired each other be torn apart by prejudice and hatred of insignificant qualities." She cleared her throat, brushing down the silk of her deep, green robes as she stood and walked over to a window.
Hermione's eyes were glued to where she sat but McGonagall was looking far ahead in the distance.
"I am also not surprised that you have been so quick to understand this. To see past it. As you witnessed today, there are many who will forever see an ex-Death Eater as just that. There are some who will never think differently. Similarly to the way I kept my eye on you, Potter and Weasley, I did the same for him. The summer holiday had not been easy for him. Even after the trials ended. I was worried Mister Malfoy would be forced to endure more than petty name-calling and heinous accusations. Even if he does everything he can to amend his broken name."
Walking over to where she stood, McGonagall placed a warm hand on Hermione's shoulder.
"I know how difficult it might be to cope without Mister Weasley and Mister Potter. But I expected nothing less than for you to find your own way here without them."
"You were hoping I would befriend him," she quickly realized.
"Befriend is a strong word," she smiled knowingly. "I had hoped for the two of you to find some form of common ground. Perhaps peace, if anything."
Her eyes tilted downward to him. "He doesn't like to admit it. But in many ways, he was similar to us," she acknowledged. "Especially Harry. He was never really given much of a choice. Their paths were paved for them long before they were born."
"This was precisely why I felt it best for you of all others to reach out to him. Because you are capable of seeing beyond one's mistakes and see them for who they could be had they been given a choice."
She considered her words carefully, all the while feeling an odd sensation building up in her chest.
"Thank you, Professor," Hermione glanced up at her, meeting her light smile with one of her own before switching her gaze to the unmoving figure in front of her.
"I should warn you, I don't know how long it will be before Miss Greengrass finds her way back here so I encourage you to use your time wisely." The warm hand on her shoulder disappeared and her footsteps proceeded to fade. When the sound of the door closing shut hit her ears, she scooted her chair closer, examining him.
It was a rare occasion to see anything but a scowl, smirk or some form of condescending expression on his face. Let alone to see him so still as if he were sleeping. It was almost unnerving how pale he had become from the blood loss. She had to refrain from giving in to the urge to touch his skin to see if it were as flawless and smooth as it looked.
"This shouldn't have happened to you," she said softly, uncharacteristically gentle and polite compared to the way she normally spoke to him. "I'm so sorry," she winced at her own words, fully aware he would tease her to no end if she ever spoke to him that way.
"Malfoy," she spoke up slightly. "I know how thick you can be. Therefore, I imagine you are just as difficult to wake up, but I think I deserve a token of gratitude for practically saving your life."
She hoped by some miracle he would sit straight up in his hospital bed and glare at her.
"Granger," he'd drawl out sarcastically, refusing to take her seriously. "Thank you for being ever so noble. Now do shut up so I can go back to sleep."
Yet, he remained still. Completely unresponsive.
"It's so like you to be ungrateful," she continued. "The least you could do is pretend to be appreciative of my efforts."
"Oh please." He would have rolled his eyes dramatically. "I'm practically exhuming with gratitude."
She couldn't help but let out a giggle at her internal dialogue.
"You're the worst," When her laughter subsided, the reality of the situation set in with the fact that she was still very much alone.
"Hermione?"
Instantly, she perked up at the warmth that voice provided her. The chair she sat in screeched across the floor as she jumped from her seat and ran towards the person who said her name with such familiarity.
"Harry." She beamed at him as he met her halfway, enveloping her in a tight embrace. "Merlin, I've missed you."
"It's good to see you too, Hermione." He laughed, patting her back gently.
"What are you doing here?" She asked, refusing to let go of him.
"I came with the head auror. He's interrogating the Cabbott twins right now. I wanted to see how you were doing and I was told I would find you here." He pulled further slightly to face her, worry etched across his features. "Are you alright? You aren't hurt?"
"I'm fine." She nodded somberly before glancing over to his bed.
"You've done a good thing, Hermione. I know it's Malfoy but—"
"That's not why I'm unhappy. We've...actually been getting on rather well."
"Really?" He stared at her in shock. "You're serious?"
She nodded slowly.
"With Malfoy. The ferreted git, Draco Malfoy?
"For heaven's sake Harry, yes."
"Oh. Well, I'm glad he's not giving you any more trouble. I thought Ginny was over-exaggerating for your benefit."
"What is it that she told you?"
"Just that you weren't arguing all the time. And that you've spent time outside of class together without harming one another."
"And that's over exaggerating?"
He stared at her pointedly.
"It's Malfoy."
She hummed in agreement.
"Fair point."
"Do I want to know how this happened?"
"We were assigned to be partners for Slughorn's final task."
He eyed her hesitantly.
"That's all it took?"
"Mind you, it hasn't exactly been the easiest task," she rolled her eyes at him in annoyance but mostly out of endearment.
He winced apologetically, "I'm sure it's been difficult with everything going on over the last few months. I also heard about what he did for you that night at Hogs Inn."
She grimaced at the thought.
"How did you—" she paused when she remembered the other man involved in the confrontation. "the Auror told you."
"Adams, yes," Harry confirmed with a twinge of anger. "More or less in the form of an interrogation before he was suspended."
"It's frustrating," she sighed, aggravated. "He's trying so hard to clear his name yet everything falls onto him all because of his…" she trailed off, an idea suddenly coming to her. "Harry?"
"Yes?"
"Are you still on good terms with Kingsley?"
"Well yes. We have lunch together nearly every Thursday," he narrowed his eyes, glancing curiously at her. "Why do you ask?"
"I'd like to ask him for a favor..."
A/n: Sooooo let me start by saying I did fully intend on uploading this chapter a month ago but a lot of shit happened in November and if you follow me on Tumblr, you'll know I was preoccupied with other things to maintain my sanity so this took a back seat for a bit. Also because this chapter was extremely difficult to write and I reeeeeally hope I did it justice.
On another note, today also marks the one year birthday of Wonderwall! Thank you to everyone who has been supporting this since day one and I hope you all continue to enjoy reading as the plot develops :)