[ Printer Friendly Version ] [ Report Abuse ]
Chapter 15 : Chapter 15
| ||Rating: 15+||Chapter Reviews: 4|
Background: Font color:
Confusion. That’s what Hermione Granger felt: Confusion. There were no books or lessons or notes she could refer to help her deal with the way she felt about Draco Malfoy and the situation she was in. His anger, his outburst, her outburst, the way their fragile friendship seemed to be shattered with a few remarks was all too much for her. If it were Ron or Harry, she’d just let everyone huff and grumble for a few days, maybe a couple weeks, and then a difficult assignment or a joke over lunch (or perhaps a dark wizard attack) would smooth it all out. She didn’t know to make amends with Draco. He never let her get that close to him. He never let her know how to say “sorry.”
It was day of the Quidditch final. Hermione trudged down to the quidditch field rubbing her cheeks. She spent her breakfast with the most sincere, bright and fake smile on her face for her friends. Her face now hurt from the forced strain of it. Harry was in decent spirits, but Ron was a garish shade of green that clashed violently with his red hair. She did her best to encourage him and remind him of all the fantastic saves he had done over the last couple years, but it didn’t do much good. Finally Harry and Ginny frog marched him out to the field. Hermione was secretly happy that this was the last game she’d have to attend.
She took a seat at the top of Gyffindor’s belchers. It was a warm day with little puffs of white clouds patching up the sky. With any luck, she thought, Harry would make quick work of catching the snitch. Her mind was on Draco and her ability to feign optimism and pleasure in this event was waning. Hermione pulled out her borrowed pair of omnioculars just as the two teams rose into the air. Madam Hooch released the snitch and tossed the quaffle into the air and the game was on.
Ginny flashed by with her red hair and the red quaffle in hand as she attempted and completed he first points of the game. Harry was already so high in the air circling that Hermione had to zoom in twice to make out his face. Ron clumsily save two goals before brilliant fake out let the third slip by. Forty-five minutes in Gryffindor was ahead by twenty and pace of the game remained fast.
Her omniolculars slipped down to the opposite bleachers for a moment, but she saw it. Draco Malfoy was staring at her. She blushed for as split second before she realized that there wasn’t any possible way he could see her. He wasn’t using an omniocluars, or binoculars for that matter, but still he was staring toward the Gyffindor’s stand. He was not smiling. His silver and green scarf was around his neck that was framing a contemplative, frowning face. A roar erupted around her, but she could not take the omnioculars off his face.
Is he staring at me? She thought as she focused her omniolculars on him. The idea seemed absurd to her. We are hundreds of meters away from each other; he cannot possibly be looking at me. No human eyes were that good. There was no way he could make her out. Yet, part of her couldn’t help but think the contrary. He face was impassive, but his eyes were dark. That was combination she knew too well. No, he’s probably just thinking. Without him in the game, it is rather lopsided. He’s probably just bored with the match and staring into oblivion. This was her only, and admittedly weak, defense to what her instincts were telling her.
All of a sudden she felt her body pulled harshly to the right of her. Neville had grabbed her into a tight and suffocating embrace. Gyffindor was champion of the Quidditch Cup!
Herminone was thrown into a rush of students making their way down to the pitch. Her scarf and omnioculars were choking her and her hair was blinding her eyes. Still, she made her way with the rest of the mob to rush the winning team. Harry, who had spectacularly grabbed the snitch before the Slytherin seeker had even seen it, was already high on the shoulders of Dean and Seamus. Ginny was hugging all sorts of 6th and 5th years. And Ron, windswept and still fully in uniform was laughing and looking around himself. When he saw her, however, he stopped laughing and shouldered his way to her. Excited for her best friend’s victory, she pushed forward to meet him, arms outstretched and scarf choking her. When Ron reached her, he grabbed her around her waist and lifted her off the ground. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and laughed in the lightness of the moment. He spun her once around and then planted her before him. He looked at her in the eyes and for a moment Hermione thought she saw something more than just the exhilaration of victory in his eyes.
A/N: Oh, readers! I know, I know, I am a horrible writer. I haven't submitted in over a year. I suck. I know. My muse has left me and my life got busy with good things. I am a Hemingway writer and happiness (which is what my life has been lately) is not conducive to my work. I will finish this story, have no fear. I owe it to myself and you, my faithful readers. Thank you for continuing this journey with me. I know the chapter was short, but the next will not disappoint. Promise. ;)
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Other Similar Stories
You can't fi...
It's Called ...
What Will Ha...