Finding Draco - A Dramione Novel

Chapter 8 - Hermione

Grabbing the wooden handle of the school-supplied broom, Hermione tried to steady her breath. There were few things she was bad at, but flying was one of them. It unsettled her. Aloft a broom, she was out of control. There was too much whimsy in flying.

She closed her eyes and lifted her fist to knock on Draco's door. She almost hit him in the face when he wrenched the door open before she could knock.

"Tut tut, Granger. No hitting your instructor." He wagged a long finger at her. His perfect teeth just visible in between a mischievous smile.

"Oh, shove off. Let's get this over with." Hermione crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. She didn't have many expectations about her first day at Durmstrang, but getting saddled with remedial flying lessons from Malfoy was not one of them.

But, here they were.

He turned on his heel and walked out of the dorms toward the lake. Near the lake, Malfoy reached into his pocket and pulled out a Potions house pin wrapped in a small cloth.

"What's this about? Is that a Portkey? Where are you trying to take me?"

"Calm down, Granger. Yes, it's a Portkey to the Potions pitch on the other side of the mountain. Once I'm sure you won't crash, we can fly there. But for now, I set this Portkey for us. On three, then? 1, 2,3!"

Hermione reached down and touched the small cauldron with her finger and felt the pull from behind her navel for the second time today. She was hurtled to the ground, surrounded by mountains on all sides in the middle of a snowy quidditch pitch.

"It's beautiful." She breathed.

"I guess. It's used during the season to practice plays in secret. There is no game for a couple of weeks, so no one can see you fall." He looked irritated, like he'd prefer to watch her fail out in the open. For everyone to watch as she hyperventilated in mid-air.

Hermione mounted the broom, feeling silly. Draco was staring at her as if he was watching a small child play with an adult's things.

"Granger, tell me why you don't like flying. Why are you so uncomfortable? You see, I have this theory about the stick up your ass--"

Hermione's pride smarted.

"If you must know," Hermione said, voice rising, "I think this is all ridiculous. I mean, the measure of a good witch isn't how well she flys."

"Flying is MAGIC, Granger! No one can do it but wizards! Muggles can't! Learning how to fly is an extension of your magic. Someone who was raised by a bunch of muggles probably doesn't understand—"

Hermione sprinted at him with her wand out, pointed directly at his Adam's apple. "Draco Malfoy, I will tolerate your presence here, and I will even lower my expectations to allow you to help me, but if you think you're going to call me a Mudblood and leave this pitch in one piece, you are sadly mistaken."

She was growling now, the hatred she held for him bubbling to the top. Grabbing the sleeve of her robe, Hermione freed the flesh of her upper arm, brandishing the scar.

"Your dear auntie saw fit to make sure I knew I was muggleborn. I don't need you to remind me." Her eyes shot venom. She lowered her wand and put it back inside her robes, pulling her sleeve back over the scar.

Draco took two steps back, mouth moving wordlessly as he rubbed his hand on his forehead. She watched him close his eyes and clutch at his robes. It looked like he was having a panic attack. His face was milk-white—even paler than usual.

Her instincts kicked and she ran over to him. "Malfoy, are you okay? Did I accidentally hit you with a spell?" Her hand was almost on his arm when he seemed to regain his composure.