"So are you going to Quidditch practice later or what?"
Draco was gazing out of the window to the sight of the Quidditch court visible in the distance. The ground was covered with freshly fallen snow as October draws into a close. In front of the large greenhouse that serves as their classroom, the new Herbology Professor continued to chatter the day's lecture with Gryffindor and Slytherin. Unaware that half of the class had been nodding off. For forty-five minutes, he was imagining his favorite Quidditch World Cup team playing on the grounds, until Blaise's whisper cut him off from his daydream. He turned his attention to the olive-skinned boy sitting beside him and grunted.
"You missed the practice last week mate and the other one you were in a hurry to meet up your girlfriend." Blaise quipped.
"Say she's my girlfriend one more time and I'll shove this pot of dirt down your throat." Draco replied in a low dangerous voice.
His glare could only throw Blaise into a restrained fit, completely ignoring his empty threat, he bit at his balled fist to suppress a laugh. "Hey, hey, no need to get violent. You can't miss any more practice though. You're the bloody seeker, Draco."
"I was in detention both times I was absent, what was I to do?" Draco retorted, steadying his gaze in front of the room pretending to listen as their Instructor move closer to their row.
"Maybe quit getting yourself in detention with Granger and take her out someplace else like a normal person." Ignoring Draco's flaring nostrils, Blaise continued. "I know she likes doing homework and stuff, mate. But you got to be more creative."
"Remember that time I got creative and your notebook one day in potions class shouted the doodles at the back page saying how much you like Pansy?"
Blaise's face flamed at the recollection, spluttering his reply that it came out as a series of incoherent sounds.
Feeling pleased with himself, Draco smirked at Blaise's expression. "Pair me with her again and I'll turn your love letters to Pansy into a Howler and set it off in breakfast."
"Fine but if you must know, not-your-girlfriend is staring at you right now."
Draco's eyebrows formed into a deep furrow as he pretended like he did not care. He did his best not to look but gave up after a while and slowly shifted his head to his right where the Gryffindor's are. The sunlight blinding him for a moment, he lifted a hand to shade his pale grey eyes. True enough, Hermione was sitting in the front row as usual along with Potter and Weasley but her typical eager eyes were not drawn to the booming voice that belongs to the Professor, instead, it was directed at him. She held his gaze for a moment until it can no longer bear the intensity of his defiant stare and it retreated back to an empty space in front of her. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at her sudden oddness.
She was sitting stiffly with her eyes forward, faking her interest. By the constant twitch in her brows and tug at the corner of her lips, Draco could guess that Hermione had studied the lesson in advance. He imagined how her brain could be itching at that very moment to steal the floor, to report the topic for the entire class instead of bearing with the Herbology Professor's sluggish pace. And it surprised him to see that she had some self-restraint in her, considering she wasn't called an insufferable know-it-all for anything. Or maybe this is an indication that a lot had changed indeed, even him. The nightmares had done their job breaking his character, there was no more left of his arrogance and pride, replaced by guilt and self-loathe. Every night he asks himself what could his father possibly see in joining the dark side when all it did to him is ruined his life.
And then there's Hermione Granger, who belongs to the minority whose spirit didn't die down but instead lit up like wildfire. He saw her fought the war, erasing the image of the annoying bookworm behind people's minds and transforming to an exemplary hero everyone admires. Even his mother, who was so difficult to please, have undoubtedly acknowledged the witch's ability and he too was truthfully surprised to witness such bravery coming from her as he never pinned her down as the type to fight a battle. Before the war broke off he did actually think he will fight alongside her, with her self-made spells and undeniable skill, hoping some of her courage will rub off on him. But he was called to a more important task, one that will severe the delicate forming bond he worked hard to build with the good side. Draco had to veer off the right path once more that by the time the war is over, he felt more tainted than usual.
"Draco! Are you coming or what?"
Draco lifted his eyes at Blaise who was standing impatiently beside him with his leather bag slung on his broad shoulders. Without answering, he stood up and collected his books and they joined the line of Slytherin students walking out of the greenhouse.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Hermione watched as Draco's olive-skinned friend snapped him from his brooding. She restrained herself to go to him, deciding that's it's best to leave those questions she has unanswered lest it complicates things more. Her eyes flicker momentarily to the boy beside Draco, who was looking at her with a playful smirk and then he winked at her before he too exited the door. Hermione blinked in confusion and then directed her attention to the two boys beside her.
"I'm going for a bit of walk by the lake."
Harry and Ron shared a meaningful look.
"You want us to come with you?" asked Harry.
"No, I think I need some alone time to think."
Harry Squeezed her hand and nodded. Hermione dragged her feet out of the room. The afternoon sun was too inviting to turn down and she needed a stroll alone to relax and also sort out her thoughts and feelings that had been disrupting her sleeping patterns at night. Harry, Ron, and Ginny have been busy training for the upcoming game and she found herself mostly alone with the book Dumbledore gave her on his will.
If not for the constant nightmares and the hovering unwanted thoughts concerning Malfoy she would be able to say that for the first time in three years she felt pure bliss. It was simply calm, something she can settle on for now. There were times she would let the steady hum in her mind be disrupted, especially when her whiskey eyes would meet with Malfoy's. Their conflicting gaze would always set off an invisible war that would end up with them averting each other. There is this gravity pulling them back but neither of them too strong or too concerned to let their curiosity wander farther, nothing ever happened but probing glances masked under urgent glances sometimes longer than it should have been if one of them is not looking at the other that is.
Just like any other morning, Draco woke up disgruntled and groggy. The fact that Blaise practically hauled him up of the bed feeling too energized didn't helped either. It was the first of November, the first Quidditch match of the school year where Gryffindor is going head to head with Slytherin. The snow outside had temporarily melted as though giving way to the competition, except for the light snowfall pinched in the atmosphere. All in all it was a good day for a game of Quidditch. He changed to his jersey uniform and followed Zabini down to the common room and out to the great hall for breakfast, unable to comprehend how he managed to drag himself down the dormitory without throwing a binding curse at him.
"Come on, Malfoy! We don't want your bad mood rubbing off on our luck, do we?" Blaise said beside him, he was too positive for Draco's liking.
Draco scoffed but made no effort to reply. He was momentarily stunned with nostalgia seeing the excitement that filled the air when they arrived in the great hall. The red and green banners held by eager students attest to that. It was a déjà vu of the past years, the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws are showing whose side they are on by wearing the team's house color with the one particular Ravenclaw who always decided to go overboard by sporting a large lion's head mascot. He sat himself on the Slytherin table and dumped his face on both his hands, irritated by the pang of wistfulness and sleep deprivation. On the other side of the great hall the Gryffindors are chanting.
"WEASELEY IS OUR KING! WEASELEY IS OUR KING! WEASELEY IS OUR KING!"
Feeling as though the voices are drilling a hole through his skull, Draco pressed his temples as he threw them a side-long glance. He was able to catch a glimpse of the red head which is the subject of their attention being held up on the shoulders of two boys, looking far too happy. His two friends, Harry and Hermione are watching him cheerfully from the table over bacon and toast.
A new set of cheers erupted as the Gryffindor team started to walk out of the hall to the Quidditch field. Draco was barely able to wash the food down with a large gulp of pumpkin juice before his team begins to file too in the exit. Clad in green and silver colors, the Slytherin house smugly marched down the castle grounds towards the pitch. For no particular reason, Draco felt an unexplainable edge at the sight of the oval marquee with its bleacher and towers seemingly reaching out for the skies. Unconsciously, he gripped his hand tighter to his broomstick until his knuckles turned numb and white as if it would contain his anxiety.
"Hermione." Luna Lovegood beamed, having spotted the brown-haired witch hugging her red sweater closer to her figure, sitting alone on the bleacher. Hermione gaped at the large lion head sitting atop her head before she gathered her wits and invited her to sit.
"What a fine day, don't you agree?" said Luna in her usual dreamy voice.
"Indeed! I hope Gryffindor wins, the boys could use some celebration right now." She replied as she tried not to get distracted with the headpiece perched on the Ravenclaw's head.
The players are hovering in the air, waiting for the referee to initiate the game. With a loud shrill coming from the whistle, the chasers and beaters came soaring all around the pitch. The two seekers drifted on each of their preferred spot, searching the air for any sign of the snitch. When a gold glint caught pass Harry's field of vision, he dashed straight to chase it with Draco tailing him. The two seekers sped all around the place swerving on the other players and dodging the bludgers. Hermione inched towards the edge of her seat when Harry's hand stretched ahead seeming to grab something in front of him. His fingers were closing at the air when Draco bumped him to the side, causing the raven-haired seeker to almost wobble on his broom and lost sight of the snitch. A boo echoed among the Gryffindor crowd.
"Oh come on! He's playing dirty!" Hermione raged from her seat.
"I didn't know you're into Quidditch this much, Hermione." Luna said. Her cheeks were bitten cold matching the plum wooly scarf wound around her neck which completely clashed with her orange coat.
"Not really, I think it's only when Gryffindor is playing and our team is being cheated on."
"But a little rough play is part of the game."
"Not to Malfoy, I'm sure he has some dirty tricks up his sleeve! Remember when he prank Harry and wore a Dementor costume?"
"You despise him so much." Luna stated impassively.
Hermione contemplated for a moment before saying, "To be honest, I'm quite confused. Harry told me something about him last week." She turned to her swiftly, thinking if she was to be bothered with thoughts of him all day long, she figured she might as well share it with somebody. "Honestly Luna, do you think he has some shred of decency in him?"
Luna gave her a small nod. "Draco? Everyone has, I think. People aren't always evil. You know, I saw him and his parents flee the castle during the battle, they refused to fight with the other Death Eaters."
"I heard so, how come I am the only one who failed to see that?"
"Don't bother yourself, Hermione. Sometimes when we are feeling one too strong emotion it obstructs everything else."
"I'm starting to feel miserable, but then there's a part of me that say's I shouldn't even care at all. Changed man or not, why should it matter? It's not like we were friends before." Hermione let out a resigned sigh and continued to gaze out at the playing teams. "And yet, I was counting on for some concrete proof, something that'll tell me what you guys are saying is true, I don't even know how that would be important. Do I make sense to you?"
Luna smiles at her knowingly, this is one of the reasons Hermione feel at ease talking to her, it's how her mind works, it's delicately simple and yet perceptive. "I think I do, it's like me and Neville—"
Hermione opened her mouth at once to disagree and correct her, that what she felt towards Malfoy is nothing like the affection Luna and Neville have but a loud gasp from the audience made her snap her head towards the direction they were looking. The Bludger, made of solid iron, was chasing one particular wizard, it would be normal at a typical game of Quidditch but it is the player it was chasing that made it all peculiar. When it is supposed to be aiming mindlessly on the Beaters, the heavy iron ball was singling out a terrified goalkeeper from the Gryffindor team. Hermione, five seconds late after the rest of the audience, gasped at the sight of her best friend Ron flying around desperately as the Bludger follows around his trail.
"WEASLEY ABANDONING THE GRYFFINDOR GOAL POST GETTING CHASED BY A BLUDGER—OH THEODORE NOTT GOING FOR A SCORE DESPITE IT AAAAND—A HUNDRED POINTS FOR SLYTHERIN KEEPING THEIR HOUSE REPUTATION AT BEING SLY AND SELFISH!" The commentator bellowed over the Gryffindor house's loud protest.
Hermione rose from her seat and shouted at one of the towers where the Quidditch official sat, "Stop the game! What are you doing?!" But Professor McGonagall was well ahead of her, after shouting the same thing to the officials, she aimed her wand towards the pitch and threw spells after spells at the rouge Bludger. But because of the speed which is making it impossible to properly aim at it, she keeps missing.
Ron faltered for a moment growing tired of speeding all over the place and the Bludger accelerated its rate. They were incidentally directed at Hermione when Ron flew upwards the same second McGonagall's spell hit the ball, a wave of fear and despair swept over her instantly and she felt her lids hurting as her eyes grow wide at the inevitable collision, and although it ran through her mind to block it with a spell, the rush of what's happening keeps her frozen in place, managing to only whip out the wand from her pocket but nothing more. Then a sudden flash of green whizzed in front of her vision, blocking the Bludger from striking her.
Hermione was anticipating the agonizing pain of broken bones, but instead she got nothing but a strong gust of wind ruffling her already messy hair and the contorted face of Draco Malfoy in front of her as the ball hit the side of his body with a cracking sound, suggesting a possible rib injury. Then he fell with his broom at the bottom of the pit, his body hurling effortlessly along the banners and Hermione staggered backwards from the rails with one hand covering her mouth and the other grasping her chest.
"Wow." Luna's voice barely registered on her brain, she jumped from her seat and inched forward get a better look at the spread-eagled figure. "There's your concrete proof, Hermione." And if she hadn't known the girl for so long, if she hadn't fought the battle with her and everything, she swears her words would sound very improper and awfully crazy. But as she gaze out at her lucid façade, calm and curious in completely odd way only Luna Lovegood's closest friends can comprehend, Hermione figure she isn't actually kidding or being tactless, she's just genuinely candid . She stayed there with mouth gaping, as the Professors rushed towards Malfoy and carry him out of the Quidditch grounds up to the castle, until Ron and Harry flew beside her and wrapping her in a bone-crushing embrace.