The Houses Competition, Round 4/Challenge 1- Favorites
House: Ravenclaw
Class: Divination
Prompts Chosen: [Romantic Pairing] Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger
Fandom: HPVerse
Stacked with: THC; MC4A
Individual Challenge(s): Reader; Cinematic; Performance Art; Short Jog; Bucket Listing; Outer Limit; Fuzzy Socks; Zed Era; Dreamers; Artist MC; Jock MC; Medic MC; Setting Sail; Finders; Rainbow Connection; Magical MC; Other School MC
Representation(s): Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger; Figure Skating
Primary & Secondary Bonus Challenge(s): Brooms Only; A Long Dog; Bandstand; Second Verse (Not a Lamp; Found Family; Spinning Plates); Chorus (Endless Wonder; Machismo; Tomorrow's Shade)
Tertiary & Generic Bonus Challenge(s): FR (Evolution; Satisfaction); T3 (Thimble); LiCK (Tansy); War (Orator)
Word Count: 1987
Warnings/Trigger Warnings: None
Disclaimer/Author's Note: Only one war AU; Olympics AU; Harry adopted AU
Beta: Ash, Hadrian, Queen
oOoOo
Draco groaned into his hands as the lights in the Great Hall dimmed. Sure, it was cool that classes were cancelled for the day, but watching a stupid Muggle sport competition was not a fair trade.
Everyone else was thrilled. Decorations filled the Hall, and benches were lined up theater-style facing a giant silver screen. A set of coloured rings—blue, yellow, black, green, and red, all connected to each other—hung over the screen. The flag of Great Britain hung in the two front corners, framing the scene. The rest of the Hall was decked out in Gryffindor red and gold, with a few Hogwarts banners scattered throughout. Rumours flew that Dumbledore had created a spell-proof box to hold the Muggle technology broadcasting the event.
It seemed like a lot of fanfare for no reason. But as the rest of the school suddenly cheered, Draco felt a flicker of curiosity. What was so important about this that everyone was watching it and during class time no less?
Up on the screen was a view of a large sheet of ice, somehow being maintained indoors. Two people were gliding in circles around it: a boy in black pants and a sparkly blue top and a girl wearing a periwinkle blue dress, long sleeved with a short skirt, sparkling brilliantly.
The cheering died down and a voice boomed through the speakers. "Our next team of dancers, representing Great Britain, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter-Granger." Now the spectacle had Draco's full and undivided attention. He glanced around the room, particularly to where most of the Gryffindors had crowded and noticed that, indeed, his two most annoying classmates were nowhere to be found. The Weasel was sitting with his sister, Lovegood, and Longbottom instead.
He glanced back up to the screen in time to see the two athletes skate towards each other into the center of the ice. The boy, clearly Potter, was facing the screen, and he lifted his arms above his head before lowering them slowly to rest on the girl's waist. The girl had her back toward the camera, intriguing Draco even more. But if she were Granger, the figure was gorgeous, and the memory of her at the Yule Ball suddenly flashed in his mind.
The music began and so did the skaters' movements. The Muggle song playing was upbeat and catchy. Draco was fascinated the entire time. The two moved together perfectly in sync, doing spins, leaps, lifts, and once or twice, Potter even flipped Granger midair. Draco suddenly had the funny memory of making jabs at Potter during a Quidditch match. Training for the ballet, Potter? Turns out, he might not have been so far off after all.
When the music stopped, they ended in a pose together. Mere seconds later, they excitedly turned to embrace each other.
The loudspeaker announced once again who they were and who they represented. They pulled apart, though still holding hands and Draco could clearly see it was her. He felt his heart skip a beat. She was beautiful. And the dance she had done (okay, Potter had helped) had been incredible.
They bowed, twirled halfway, joined hands, and bowed camera panned to a group of athletes and spectators holding giant flags, cheering boisterously.
The next time the wizard and witch were on screen, they were sitting on a bench, a sign behind them labeled "Kiss and Cry". Two other adults were sitting with them, and they were now bundled up in Team GB jackets. Noticing they were being watched, Hermione waved and blew air kisses. Harry joined in the greeting. "Love to our family!" Harry shouted, though it was hard to hear him over the noise in the arena.
"Shout out to Ron and the rest of our friends at school, too!" Hermione added. "We miss you all!"
There was no reason for him to feel jealous, not in the slightest. But watching the two of them shout out friends (which he wasn't), he couldn't help the feeling in his gut. He'd always desired friendship with Potter, since before he'd even met him. But to be fair, who hadn't? His parents were killed by Voldemort when he was only a year old and he should have suffered the same fate. But somehow, he hadn't and he'd become an instant celebrity, the Boy-Who-Lived. And the survivors of the war they had been born into worked tirelessly from that point on to ensure that Voldemort would stay dead.
Draco remembered his father's fury about placing Harry with a Muggle family, the Grangers. It had been strategic though: Harry grew up without celebrity status but with a family that would eventually enter the Wizarding World.
Draco had grown up with prejudice, but through his years of schooling, he quickly realised most of it was codswallop. The Muggle-born Granger could wipe the floor with him in every subject, no matter how hard he tried to keep up. Further, six and a half years of the now mandatory seven years of Muggle Studies had taught him Muggles were far more sophisticated than he'd been taught.
And Granger was something Draco just couldn't describe. Despite his initial cruelty to her because of her Muggleborn Status, she'd never stooped to his level, save for the one time she'd punched him in the face. And that had certainly changed him. One doesn't have the lights almost knocked out of them without having some sort of revelation. And his had been that Hermione Granger was more than just the bookworm with all of the answers. She was intelligent, kind, and apparently, quite artistic and athletic as well.
He had denied having feelings for her for ages now; what would his father think? But now? He couldn't deny it any longer.
The noise on screen and in the Hall quieted when the booming voice announced, "The scores please." It brought Draco's attention out of his musings. The announcement was repeated in another language and then a banner popped up on the bottom of the screen, listing a technical score, a presentation score, and a total score. "Hermione Granger and Harry Potter-Granger have earned a total of 65.29 points and are currently in first place." The two nodded and hugged again, waving one more time before the view returned to the rink.
The candles brightened, the sound system silenced, and the headmaster took the podium at the front of the room, just below the screen which was now showing a new pair of skaters. "We have done our due diligence by watching our fellow Hogwarts students compete. If you wish to view the remainder of today's competition, you are welcome to stay. Otherwise, we will reconvene here tomorrow at the same time for Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger's final performance. If you choose, you're dismissed."
oOoOo
I am backstage with the brother-sister ice dance team, Hermione and Harry Potter Granger. Your score in the free skate was your season's best, but you still couldn't place in the top ten. How are you feeling about that?
We had a bit of time to sit on the gold medal bench during the competition and it was an exciting feeling. But realistically, we never expected to place. Just being here in Japan at the Olympics with my brother, knowing my family and friends were watching back home was a thrilling experience on its own.
oOoOo
This wasn't his first time on ice skates, but somehow Draco felt no more confident in them now than he had the first time. He wouldn't hang on to the wall like some of the other skaters; he had too much pride for that. But as he lost his footing and slipped back, landing hard on his bottom, he realized falling had to be a greater hit to his pride than holding a wall. At least he'd had the foresight to place a concealed cushioning charm around him before entering the rink.
"Whose bloody idea was it to strap knives to boots and walk on ice?" he grumbled to himself as a skater in a bright blue coach's parka ran (could one run in skates?) over to him.
"Sir, are you alright?" the familiar voice asked, squatting down.
He nodded up at her. "Granger. I'm alright. I, uh…took some precautions to avoid injury."
She smiled. "Smart. I didn't know you were interested in ice skating?"
"I wasn't. Until recently." He hoped his blush wasn't obvious. "How do I get up?"
She held out her hand. "Move slowly with one foot perpendicular to your other." With her support, he slowly moved back to his feet, brushing the shaved ice off himself.
"Thanks," he muttered.
"Of course. Just remember, skating isn't like walking. Keep your toes angled out and start with baby steps. If you feel you're losing your balance, grab your knees," she explained as she demonstrated. "It's good seeing you though, Draco." She smiled as she skated away.
He felt a twinge of sadness. It would have been lovely if she could have stayed with him. But he struggled on, trying to keep her advice in the forefront of his brain. For a moment, he considered the possibility that this was more difficult than healer training.
He was so focused on putting one foot in front of the other, he hadn't noticed that someone had joined him. "My shift is over, so I thought I'd come skate with you. If you want, of course," Hermione explained.
He turned to face the wall he was standing next to, holding on tightly. "How do you make this look so effortless, Hermione?" he asked, feeling out of breath.
She giggled. "Years and years of practice. On-ice training, off-ice training, ballet…" She changed the subject. "Why don't you show me what you've been practicing?"
He moved forward cautiously, taking about five steps before gliding to a stop. "That's not bad. But you're trying to walk." She moved to catch up to him.
"The blade of an ice skate isn't like a knife blade." She held out her hand in the shape of a sideways C. "There's a groove down the center, like this, and the deeper the groove, the harder it is to glide. But that also means you really have two edges. An outside edge." She made a semi-circle around him, gliding on one foot, leaning away from him. "And an inside edge." Again, she skated the half circle, this time, leaning in toward him. "Don't think you have to be upright."
"I really can't think at all. I don't even think this hard in healer training"
She skated ahead of him and offered out both hands. "Then stop thinking and feel what you're doing, how your feet naturally move in the skates. The ice will clear to resurface in fifteen minutes. Let's see how many laps we can make."
She smiled at his hesitation. "Don't worry, Draco. You set the pace. I'll just be here as support. Penguin toes, baby steps and let the momentum carry you before your next step."
She skated backwards, never letting go even when his grip tightened. "I started ice skating because of you," he thought aloud, before his brain could catch up with his mouth.
Realisation dawning, he stopped abruptly, the change in momentum bringing him to his knees.
"I don't know why I said that," he whispered to the ice.
"Draco," she said softly, squatting down to meet his gaze. "That's sweet of you. And I'd love to help you learn. If you're okay with private ice time; just you and me, alone on the rink for an entire hour." It seemed that she was flirting back!
She stood back up and offered him her hand again with a smile brighter than the ice. With renewed energy, he took her hand, and she pulled him up.
"I'd love that," he said, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the skates.