Disowned (Drarry/Pansmione)

Chapter Eight

AN: First of all, I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in so long. There's been a lot going on lately but I'm going to try to do at least once every other week. Second of all, I've decided that there will be Pansmione in this story. I've never really explored that ship but I've read a few fics recently and I like it, so look forward to that!

Draco hurried back up towards Gryffindor Tower after Quidditch tryouts. Some of the others had been upset that there was a first year on the team, but after seeing him in action they begrudgingly accepted him. Of course, that does not mean they went easy on him. The Weasley twins, in fact, seemed to go especially hard on him, sending Bludgers his way at every opportunity. Draco avoided the Bludgers well, having been trained by his ex-father. He wasn't trained with actual practice Bludgers; he was trained with enchanted objects flying at his head at random points during the day. While irritating, it was a rather effective method. Draco had only been hit by a Bludger once in his life, and never again. He had fallen into a rock pile and now had a nasty scar under his left arm as a reminder to keep his eyes constantly searching. The scar could have easily been healed, but his ex-father wanted it left there. Nowhere visible to the public, but somewhere that Draco would see every time he took a shower. All other injuries he had sustained that day had been erased. Draco once wondered if he should ask Madam Pomfrey to heal his scar, but decided against it. He had had it so long it would feel strange to longer have it. Besides, it wasn't hideous. Draco actually thought it looked kind of cool.

Draco scurried into the bathroom to change out of his gear. He could have gone to the locker room but then he'd be coming back with the team, and he didn't want anyone to know about him yet. His cover had almost been blown at breakfast that day. Professor McGonagall had very generously gotten him a broom of his own, which was delivered by owl. The very obvious packaging had been dropped in front of Draco and he snuck it outside to the broom shed with Hermione's help. It was an impressive broom, a Nimbus 2000. What he couldn't figure out was why the professor had gotten it for him after everything else she had done. It certainly felt like she felt bad for him. Perhaps she remembered his Uncle Sirius's similar situation. She did like him, despite all the trouble he and his friends got into.

Freshly showered, Draco emerged from the bathroom and ran into Ron.

"Hey Draco," Ron greeted. "How was your detention?"

Draco shrugged. "It wasn't too awful. I helped Professor McGonagall organize paperwork."

Ron nodded. "At least you didn't have a detention with Filch. I heard he makes people clean things until their fingers cramp up."

Draco winced. "That sounds horrible."

"Want to play chess? I'm really good," Ron offered.

"Are you now?" Draco challenged. "We'll see about that."

As it turned out, Ron was as good as he said. They played three games and Ron won all of them. Draco angrily left a laughing Ron, stalking off towards the library, where he was almost certain Hermione was going to be. To his surprise, she wasn't there. Frowning, Draco turned to leave, only to see Hermione run past the door. Was she crying? Draco hurried after her.

"Hermione?" Draco called ahead of him. Hermione froze. "Hey, are you okay?"

Draco caught up and grabbed Hermione's shoulder. "Hermione, why are you crying?"

Hermione wiped at her eyes. "I'm not. I have something in them."

"Both of them?"

"Yes."

"Was it Pansy?"

Hermione stiffened. Draco sighed and put his arm around her shoulders, leading her back into the library. She sat down in a rather large armchair. Draco sat on the table next to her.