Hermione watched the quidditch match with as much interest as she could muster. The school matches were far less interesting than professional ones, even if there she only cared about one of the players. At least she liked all the players on the Gryffindor team.
She wasn't fond of the Slytherin team, though the only player from their year was Malfoy. And he wasn't a great example of someone that anyone from the other houses would like. She knew that Slytherin mostly stuck to themselves, but that probably didn't help them any outside of Hogwarts.
She sat with Neville and Ron, who were watching the game with way more enthusiasm than she had. They were cheering every time Gryffindor scored a goal.
"What do you think about me trying out for the team next year?" Ron asked.
Hermione paused. She hadn't ever considered it, but most of the Weasleys had played. Fred and George were beaters; Charlie had been quidditch captain for Gryffindor. And they all played together over the holidays.
She realised with a small smile, that there were enough of them to actually form a quidditch team if they didn't want to sub anyone out. She doubted that everyone loved to fly, she couldn't recall Percy ever on a broom, but most of them played.
"That sounds like a fantastic idea Ron," she said. "I just worry about your schedule. Being a prefect, playing quidditch, and keeping up your grades is going to be a lot of work."
"I can do it," Ron said certainly. "I have you to help me," he added under his breath.
Hermione knew it probably wasn't meant for her to hear, but it was true enough that she smiled a little. She would have elbowed him, but she wasn't about to let him know that she had heard him. Not yet.
The match quickly devolved into a fistfight between Malfoy and Harry. Hermione held her breath as the twins joined in, probably due to some insult that Malfoy had hurled knowing they couldn't contain their tempers over that.
Hermione sighed, knowing that the twins were masters of revenge. If it was something that caused them to punch him, it was a low blow indeed.
"What's going on?" Neville asked.
"Harry punched Malfoy," Ron said.
"Malfoy's been taunting Harry the whole game. It's what he does," Hermione added. "I just wish I knew what he had said to get Fred and George to resort to physical violence."
"Whatever it was," Neville said, "it was bad. They usually prank people."
"I know," Hermione said.
Ron had turned bright red. Obviously, he had some sort of idea about what Malfoy had said. And he didn't like it. At all.
Ron turned to storm down to the field when Umbridge walked over. She broke up the match with words that Hermione couldn't hear, no matter what spell she used. She wished she had asked the twins about their extendable ears right then.
The three of them watched as the Gryffindors were dragged away, Malfoy standing there smugly. Even if he was going to have a black eye the next day, he didn't seem bothered by it.
They walked back to the common room, unsure of what to do. They weren't even really sure of the options.
Hermione wasn't quite sure what to make of the day. Draco Malfoy was certainly climbing high up her list of people to destroy. Or at least, people she didn't ever want to have to interact with after school.
She supposed that was one advantage to dating someone in a foreign country. She wouldn't have to see Malfoy, no matter how influential his family was in the British ministry. He could even be the chief of the Wizengamot and she wouldn't have to deal with him unless she broke the law.
As for Umbridge, she wasn't sure what to do. That was a woman that Hermione would very much like to see dead. And she liked to think that she wasn't exactly capable of even thinking of murder. But for Umbridge, she found herself willing to make an exception.
Did Durmstrang have quidditch? She asked.
Sort of, came Viktor's reply. We had flying class and games. But our games were between teams of friends. Similar to the fun college sports your father was telling me about.
Hermione recalled her father talking about playing rugby in uni. He hadn't been quite good enough to make the main team for the university, though he had been placed in one of the backup teams. But he had found most of his friends playing friendly games among the rest of the students there.
Yeah. He talks about that a lot.
It's not bad. He has some great stories. But he has made me promise to teach any of my future children how to play.
Hermione smiled. She was sure her father had some good stories if you could listen through the sports long enough to get to them. That wasn't something she had managed before, but she was trying. And she was sure that Viktor would be able to.
He's tried to make me promise that. But I'm probably the worst person to listen once he gets going about sports, she confessed.
You're getting better. You voluntarily asked if we had quidditch at Durmstrang.
Yeah. I have an ulterior motive for that.
There was a pause.
And what might that be? Viktor asked.
Hermione took a deep breath, controlling her thoughts from just pouring out. Though she knew Viktor would understand if she did, it would be better of her to try to come to the point. It would take up much less space.
We have a teacher here, who also works for the ministry, who banned all clubs with more than three members. Which includes quidditch. I'm just not sure exactly how that would work with school politics.
She waited, clearing the ink off her skin. She knew the answer would probably be fairly upset. Possibly as upset as Harry was when he had found out. Though not as angry as he had been when he punched the wall. Hopefully.
If your government is corrupt enough to think that taking a sport as beloved as quidditch away from the students is a good idea, I hope that your mother manages to get her plans up and running as soon as possible.
Hermione laughed. She was glad that she'd cast a quieting spell over her bed. She was certain that Lavender would rip open the curtains if she heard her, no matter how much Hermione insisted that she was just reading.
It wasn't a total lie, she was reading. But she was also writing. And that wasn't something she cared to explain.
If my mother manages to set her plans in motion any faster than she has been, everything will change at a speed so fast that it will feel like a god punched the planet.
She did ask me to tell you that she sent a letter last night. It should get there in a few days.
It might have only taken a few hours for a plane to get to Bulgaria, but owls were a tad slower than jet engines. And they had to stop and eat and sleep. The letter wouldn't get there until the next day at the soonest.
Thanks. I'm sure she appreciates that.
I don't think she likes the fact that I can talk to you almost instantaneously while you're at Hogwarts. She would like to use that metal box she uses to call England and her office to talk to you. But she said that it won't work around as much magic as Hogwarts has.
She's right. The phone won't work at Hogwarts. I'm surprised it works at your house. Your wards are rather impressive. And they've been on the house for generations, or so your father says.
He's not exaggerating. But your parents don't use the phone at our house. They use it lots of other places. The most common is the pastry shop close to the house.
Just thinking about it made Hermione's mouth water. They had the most amazing banista that she had ever tasted. It was divine.
I swear that if you bring some of that with you the next time I see you, I'll marry you, she teased.
I'll keep that in mind.
"Hermione," Pavarti said, "I need some help."
I've got to go. Talk to you tomorrow.
Love you.
She pulled her sleeve down and opened the curtains around her bed, dispelling the charm she'd set up. "Alright Pavarti, what seems to be the trouble?"
A/N: I really hope I spelt it correctly, but banista is supposed to be a Bulgarian pastry. Also, I'm impressed with how quickly I managed to get this chapter done. I hope it lives up to everyone's expectations. I think that the next chapter is going to be the first DA meeting. At the very least, there will be some planning for that.