Hermione’s eighth year back at Hogwarts had been more about healing than studying. Whilst she was definitely studying - the war hadn’t changed her that much - she found herself not wanting to hold onto hatred for those that had wronged her. As it turned out, most of those who returned were looking for fresh starts too, and she supposed that’s how she ended up spending most of her time in the slytherin common room. She wasn’t really meant to be in there, but nobody was about to tell her otherwise, and she was certain that McGonagall knew but was turning a blind eye. If the Headmistress didn’t mind, then Hermione didn’t think anybody else’s opinions mattered all that much.
It had all been Parvati’s fault. She was, once again, sharing a room with the witch, and she’d noticed that she was sneaking off to meet someone a few times a week. At some point, her curiosity had become too much to ignore and she’d followed her. When she found that Parvati was meeting up with Draco Malfoy to do tarot readings together in the divination classroom, she hadn’t quite believed her eyes, but when she realised that Draco’s friends had followed him too, they’d all fallen about laughing at their mutual attempts at espionage. This had given them away entirely and they’d been friends ever since. With their prejudices dead and buried, it had been quite simple. They already knew that Hermione understood their positions, seeing as she’d spoken at their trials, so with apologies accepted and out of the way, they were clear to go on with their lives.
This did not mean, however, that the old rivalries were any different.
“I’m just saying, they asked me to help coach the kids because I’m the best Hogwarts quidditch player in recent history. That’s an indisputable fact.” Draco said, slumped in an old leather armchair. Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini were on a sofa opposite him, and Hermione and Theo Nott shared the other sofa, Theo’s head in Hermione’s lap.
“It is absolutely disputable and you know it. How many times did slytherin win the cup when you were in charge?” Hermione countered, Theo laughing. Pansy and Blaise were looking back and forth like they were watching a tennis match, thoroughly entertained by something that was not an uncommon scene in the dungeons these days.
“Like we had half a chance with the blatant favouritism Saint bloody Potter was treated to. Even if we had won, Dumbledore would have appeared and awarded 1000 extra points for some bullshit reason.”
Hermione laughed. “So when slytherin suddenly got all new brooms and you got to play seeker, what was that? I said it then, I’ll say it now Malfoy, at least no one on the gryffindor team had to buy their way in. They got in on pure talent.” Draco huffed, but it was with a smile. Blaise cackled.
“He would not shut up about that for weeks, I’d forgotten about that.” He said, and Theo snorted lightly.
“You can’t say you put that team together based on skill, not when you stuck Vince and Greg on it.” Pansy added, and Draco threw his hands up in defeat.
“You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“We all defected to team Granger weeks ago, including you, so don’t even try to pretend.” Theo replied, and Hermione chuckled down at him.
“Who is the best player, then, oh wise and all-knowing Hermione Granger?” Draco asked, meeting her gaze.
“I mean, Ginny comes to mind because she’s, you know, a professional. Cho, same reason. Harry was always a better seeker than you, even if your massive ego can’t admit it. I could keep going.” She smirked, and he scowled, but couldn’t keep the smile from his face.
“Your ex and your two best friends is hardly an unbiased list, Mi.” Pansy smiled, and Hermione glared at her. Theo sat up suddenly, his interest piqued.
“Well which one is the ex? Please do share with the class.” He grinned, and Hermione groaned.
“Pans, I swear to Circe, why do I tell you anything?”
“I am an excellent secret keeper for important stuff. Who you may or may not have been shagging is not important, even if it is deliciously interesting.” She smirked, and Hermione sighed, covering her face with her hands.
“Go on then, I’ll let you all guess.” She shook her head.
“Has to be Potter, right?” Blaise offered, and Draco nodded.
“There is no way nothing happened in that tent.” She smiled innocently, enjoying that he remembered what she’d told him about her time horcrux hunting. They’d all swapped stories for the parts of the war they’d missed, and whilst slightly harrowing, it had been good to hear other perspectives on certain events.
Theo made a show of tapping his chin thoughtfully. “I think Weasley. You’ve got a type, Mi.”
“Ignoring that comment, thank you Theo, but you’re all wrong.” She grinned, and Pansy cackled.
“How the fuck did you pull Chang? There was not a person in our year that didn’t fancy her.” Blaise gaped at her. Hermione shrugged, smirking slightly.
“If she’s going to be coy, I’ll tell you. She bumped into Chang at a pompous Ministry thing where everyone was up her arse for being the Golden Girl and they went home together. It lasted a few weeks, fairly casual, before Chang and fucking Ginevra Weasley got together.” Pansy grinned, and Hermione laughed.
“Good Gods, do you and the Weasleys know you don’t have to all date the same people? It’s really quite insular, Granger.” Draco scrunched up his face, and she threw a cushion at him.
“Are you really in a position to say something like that to me? Your family tree is a circle.”
He gasped dramatically, feigning offence. “You’re being very mean to me this evening. We don’t have to keep letting you in here, you know.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, let’s pretend that you’re Merlin’s gift to sport and that your grandparents aren’t cousins.” She drawled, and they all laughed. Theo lay back down, his head on top of her thighs.
“You think you could do better then?” Draco raised an eyebrow, and she laughed.
“Marrying my cousin? No, I reckon you’re all over that sort of thing.”
“Quidditch, Granger.” He said flatly, and she smirked.
“Sure I could. I’ve been forced to watch enough of the bloody thing. They’d learn more from me than from you, at any rate. Have you ever actually won a game?” She asked innocently, and he smirked.
“Fine. Let’s do it then, I’ll make a team, you make a team. We have a game, winner takes all.”
“Oh, Draco Malfoy, surely you know better than to challenge a gryffindor? I’ll bite. We need rules though. Like an age limit, so you can’t run off to mummy and ask her to play. I’ve heard rumours about Narcissa Malfoy’s prowess back in the day.” She smirked again, and Theo laughed. Ignoring her comment about his mother, Draco pressed on.
“Shall we say 25? We can either play or stay grounded, considering your total ineptitude with anything remotely broom related, and we’re not limited to only our own house. Deal?” He raised an eyebrow.
“You’ve got yourself a deal, Malfoy. I would ask if you’re ready to lose, but I suppose you’re used to it by now.” She tilted her head, and he laughed.
“Oh, you have no idea what you’ve just gotten yourself into, Granger.” He grinned.
Pansy sighed loudly. “You’re both going to be so fucking annoying about this, aren’t you?”
Hermione was seething. She marched out onto the quidditch pitch, where she knew Draco, Blaise, and Theo were. By his smirk, she knew that he was entirely aware of what she was here to say.
“Everything alright, Granger? You look a little tense.” He said, and she scowled.
“You got to the Weasleys before I did.” A statement rather than a question, but he nodded smugly anyway.
“I left you with your favourite one, didn’t I?” He replied, and Blaise snickered.
“I can’t believe you convinced Ginny and George to betray me like this. What exactly did you offer them? I assume money, seeing as that’s all you have going for you.” She shot back, and he laughed.
“I see the claws are out. Has it got you worried that I’ve pilfered your only friend who plays professionally? You could still back out, nobody would judge you for such a sensible decision.”
“You want to play dirty, Malfoy? Fine, let’s play dirty. Hey, Theo, I assume you’re one of his chasers, yes?” She turned to the curly headed slytherin, who nodded. “And if I were to quietly suggest that I might have secured a certain seeker who was disappointed to hear that you’re on the other team?” She looked at him innocently, and he nodded again. He turned to Draco.
“It is, with regret, that I formally issue you with my resignation. No hard feelings, all the best in your future endeavours, etc etc.” He said, and Draco sighed, looking up at the sky.
“My oldest friend. All it took for him to abandon me was the promise of the chosen cock.” He muttered, and Blaise laughed, sticking his hand out to Theo.
“Good luck, mate. You’ll need it, defecting to the losing side like that.” He grinned, and Theo shook his hand.
Hermione smirked defiantly at Draco, who was attempting to glare at her but looked a little impressed at her underhanded tactics.
“Gloves are off now, Granger.” He said, and she smiled.
“See you around, Malfoy.” She replied, and she and Theo walked from the field, laughing as Draco swore loudly once their backs were turned.
“How is team planning going then, Mi? Are we in for a decent match?” Daphne Greengrass asked, slipping into the chair opposite Hermione in the library. Hermione smiled up at her.
“I cannot believe you caved so easily. You told me you’d hung up your broom for good.” She said, and Daphne shrugged, looking a little guilty.
“Blaise promised that we’d go to the Zabini Estate for Christmas if I replaced Theo after you poached him. I’ve never been before, and whenever I’ve asked, he’s always said no. Sue me for wanting to spend Yuletide in Italy.” She threw her hands up, and Hermione laughed.
“Awfully slytherin thing to do, keeping it as a bargaining chip like that. I have to admit, though, I do respect it.” She smiled, shaking her head incredulously. “It’ll be nice to see you fly again, Daph. I know you’ve missed it, even if you pretend you haven’t.”
“I think my parents just got in my head a bit, all their talk of what it means to be a proper lady. As if any of that matters anymore. If I want to play, I’m going to play. It just took a bit of persuasion for me to take that leap, I suppose. Have you found a coach yet? George and Draco have been owling back and forth for days.” She rolled her eyes, and Hermione smiled.
“I’m in negotiations with a few people. I can’t say more, not when you’ve sided with the enemy.” She smirked, and Daphne laughed.
“You know, I think this is the most fun we’ve all had in ages. Draco has certainly been a lot brighter. You’ve been good for us.” She reached for her hand, and squeezed it gently.
“I’ve loved getting to know you all. I really like that we’ve managed to get to this point, even when it feels impossible or ridiculous, considering what we all went through.” Hermione said, and Daphne smiled fondly back at her. Then Hermione smirked. “I’m still going to beat you though.”
Daphne huffed, and stood up suddenly. “Well, Draco certainly can’t say I didn’t do my best to try and dig for information.” Hermione laughed and went back to her essay.
Draco plopped down next to her on the sofa and yanked the book out of her hands. She glared at him.
“Do you have a death wish?” She asked, as he placed it face down on the table in front of them. To his credit, he didn’t lose her page. He turned back to look at her.
“You stole my kids.” He said flatly, and she laughed.
“Is that what this is about? You were always going on about them, I figured I’d go and see what all the fuss was about. They’re really very talented, Malfoy, you should be proud.” She said.
“I cannot believe you convinced Cade and Emil to play for you. At least Heather has some loyalty. I suppose that’s thrown off your plan for your beaters?” He raised an eyebrow, and she laughed.
“I see you digging, but seeing as I know that you had Pansy persuade Neville to be your other beater, I’ll tell you. I owled Pucey.”
He gaped at her. “Adrian Pucey? The slytherin?”
She nodded. “Mm. That one.”
He laughed, leaning back against the cushions. “Are you sure you were sorted properly, Granger? This whole thing has brought out your slytherin side. It suits you, I must say.”
“Why thank you, Malfoy. The hat did say I’d do well in slytherin, but you still had certain entry requirements at the time which prevented me from donning anything green.” She replied, and he hummed thoughtfully.
“Imagine how different things could have been. You think we would have been friends?” He asked, and she snorted.
“Absolutely not. Even if I’d been a pureblood, I would still have beaten you in marks. You still would have hated me.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. Although, if you had been pureblooded, my father would have had you in his sights for a marriage contract between us before either of us had learnt to walk, so you have been spared that particular experience.”
She laughed. “And how would you have liked me being the future Mrs Malfoy?”
He shrugged. “I mean, if you’d grown up to be the person you are now, I would have liked her enormously, but I don’t think pureblood you would have turned out as the same person. When women are raised in these households, their personalities are stamped out because they think that’s what men want. They think it’s better if they’re almost an object, just a pretty thing that’s seen and not heard. It’s all so depressing.”
“Daphne told me why she stopped flying.” She said, and he nodded.
“There’s still so much sexism around quidditch in general. I mean, look at Weasley, she is up there with some of the world’s greatest players and what happened in Hogwarts? She lived in Potter’s shadow. Fundamentally, people expect women to be slower or not as strong, or they think it’s not right for them to play such a violent game if they ever want to find a husband. It’s such bullshit.” She watched him carefully, wondering if this version of Draco had always been in there, or if he was a recent development. She loved talking to him. Whenever they spoke, it was always passionate. They both cared deeply, held strong opinions, and were not afraid to share them. It was one of her favourite things about him.
“There are more women on your team than men. George told me.” He looked at her, his face serious.
“Ignoring the fact that my coach is letting slip important strategy secrets, I did just pick the best players. Anything else had very little to do with it. I’ve even got a hufflepuff.” He smiled, and she laughed softly.
“I think you should be proud of how far you’ve come, Malfoy. Once upon a time, that team would have been slytherin boys and slytherin boys only.”
“Yes, well, you’ve stolen four of my slytherin boys, so I had no choice but to look further afield.” He quipped, and she shook her head.
“Don’t deflect the praise when you know you’ve earned it. Very rarely do I deem it necessary to boost your giant ego, you shouldn’t waste the opportunity.” He laughed quietly, putting his chin on his chest.
“It’s because I know you’re right, Granger. All that time I wasted being so close minded, choosing to believe that my little prejudiced world was all that existed. You and I are so strikingly similar, I don’t understand how I spent so long insisting that we were different. You have become so important to me and I will always wonder what might have been had I not been a bigoted arsehole. Things that would have happened, things that wouldn’t…” He tailed off. There was a pregnant pause as his words hung in the air. Hermione moved, resting her head against his shoulder. He tensed slightly, before he relaxed and she began to speak.
“You became my best friend at some point. I think it happened when I wasn’t paying attention, because one day we were the furthest thing from friends that there is, and the next, there you were, mattering to me. You could spend the rest of your life living in the past, hanging on what ifs and maybes, but what would be the point? Yes, we have lived through hell, but look at what we found on the other side. I mean, you challenged one of the most famous muggleborns to a quidditch game and you immediately put two Weasleys on your team, hand-me-down robes and all. I think the point of everything we’ve seen is to learn from it, rather than dwell on what we can’t change, and I don’t think you would have grown into this Draco Malfoy had the old Draco Malfoy never existed. You and I saw parts of the war that the others cannot begin to imagine, but all that means is that we both have someone to talk to when our brains won’t shut up, and I, for one, would not change that. I might be a hugely competitive gryffindor who is incapable of turning down a dare, but I wanted to do this quidditch thing because I thought it would be fun to spend time with my friends. It’s no more complicated than that. The way I see it, for maybe the first time in your life, you have a choice. You get to choose what you do now, where you go, and who you go with. What you do with your future is entirely up to you. Isn’t that exciting?” He chuckled, and grabbed her hand, interlinking their fingers.
“You think it’s exciting because that is what your gryffindor brain is telling you. You run on hope and optimism. Down here in the dungeons, we’re lacking in both of those things. I’m still learning how to make choices, because you’re right, I’ve never been able to make them before. Recognising that something will be difficult and doing it anyway is not something that comes naturally to me. I think it’s likely I’ll live in the past until I feel like I’ve made up for it, and right now, I haven’t done that yet. One day, maybe, but not yet. What I do know, though, is that you have enough hope for the both of us, so I guess you’ll have to stick around whilst I work on it.”
She shrugged. “I’ve got some time on my hands.” He snorted.
“You’re my best friend too, you know. How did that happen?” He asked.
She smiled. “Poor decision making by both of us, I should think.”
He laughed softly, leaning his own head on top of hers. “In the spirit of honesty, can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“Who’s your coach?” He asked, and she snorted.
“Piss off, Malfoy.” She shot back.
“Was worth a try.”
“Merlin’s beard.” Hermione muttered as she observed the crowd. Draco nodded next to her, running his hands through his hair.
“This has gotten out of hand, Granger.” He said, and she snorted.
“It’s completely packed! What on earth happened?”
“You two thought you could put on the greatest show in years and nobody would want to come and watch?” George asked, swaggering into the room and slinging his arms around both of them. “I thought you were supposed to be clever.”
“I really didn’t think there would be so many.” Hermione said, and George huffed out a laugh and kissed her on the temple.
“Sweet, naive Hermione. Look at the teams! Who wouldn’t want to watch the golden trio lose?” He goaded, and she rolled her eyes, extracting herself from his arm.
“We won’t be losing today, George.” She replied, smirking and crossing her arms.
“Weasley here is the best for strategy. I’m not convinced you’ve even got a coach, you’ve been so secretive about it.” Draco said, a cocky expression forming on his face.
“How about we all go and meet him? Their portkey was scheduled for this morning.” She replied, gesturing for them to follow her.
They saw them before her, with their height advantage. Making their way down the corridor towards the changing rooms, George swore under his breath.
“Salazar’s sack, Granger.” Draco muttered, and she tossed him an innocent smile as she moved to greet her old friend.
“Hermy!” Victor Krum called as he spotted her, arms wide as they hugged. She laughed that, even after all these years, her name was still unattainable for him.
“Victor, it’s been far too long. I’m so glad you could make it.” She said, pulling away and smiling.
“Of course! We have been so excited for today.” He said, gesturing to the other two men behind him. “I couldn’t keep these two away.”
“It’s an honour to finally meet you. We hardly believed Vic when he said who he’d been writing to.” A very tall man rushed forward, taking her hand in both of his. “Gavril Trevino.” He introduced himself, and George huffed next to her.
“Blimey, of course we know who you are. Thank you for coming to watch our game, the honour is getting to meet you! George Weasley, I’m coaching Malfoy’s team.” He held out his hand, and Victor smirked.
“Ah, the competition, eh? I’m not worried.” He said as he shook it firmly. They all exchanged further handshakes, Victor’s other friend staying silent. They parted with a friendly wave, and Hermione’s promise to meet them down on the pitch in a few moments.
“Granger, you’re fucking insane.” Draco said, and she laughed. “Do you even know who Trevino and Harmon are?”
“Victor said he was bringing some friends, but no, I’ve never met them before.” She replied.
“Mione, they’re some of the biggest quidditch players in the world right now. Harmon’s played in three consecutive world cups! He never speaks, that’s his whole thing.” George explained, and she suddenly understood why they were both gaping at her like that.
“Oh, did you want me to ask them to sign something for you?” She asked, and Draco huffed, throwing his arms up.
“Why do you possess the ability to just call up three of the best quidditch players in existence? And then act like this is just another day for you?” He exclaimed, and she smiled.
“Getting nervous, Malfoy?”
George chuckled, and clapped the other wizard on the back. “Now that’s a witch laying down a challenge if ever I saw one. Come on, we need to have a team chat in light of this revelation. Best of luck, Mione. Try not to be a sore loser later, yeah?”
“Be realistic, George. It’s not me that’s losing today.” She grinned. “Good luck, all the same.”
She caught Draco’s eye and shared a smile with him before heading to find Victor and the rest of her team. Quite how a stupid bet with her friend had grown into whatever the hell this was, she wasn’t sure, but she wasn’t going down without a fight.
“I look like a Beauxbatons girl.” Ron whined, lifting up his robes with distaste. “I’m not used to playing in blue. What if it throws me off my game?”
“Where’s your mental fortitude, Ron?” Hermione asked, plopping down on the bench in front of him. The others were already outside, but she’d found herself wanting a moment with Harry and Ron before the madness truly began. Luckily, her friends were always late to everything, so she’d found them alone in the changing room.
“It sprouted wings and flew away when I had to watch Harry flirting with Nott.” He smirked. Harry promptly flipped him off, before sitting beside Hermione.
“Stop watching then.” Harry grinned. “Thank you for getting him to swap teams, by the way.” He murmured, and she smiled.
“Wasn’t difficult. He’s as besotted with you as you are him.”
“There are going to be so many snakes at your wedding. Am I going to have to dance with Narcissa Malfoy?” Ron complained, as Ron often did.
“Only if you ask her nicely.” Hermione shot back with a smile.
“Did you have to ask her nicely? When you started courting her only son and heir?” Ron mirrored her somewhat spiteful smile.
“Malfoy is my friend. I don’t know why I have to keep reminding you of this.” She rolled her eyes.
“Because you look at him like you want to eat him.” Harry pointed out, and she whirled on him.
“Et tu, Harry?”
“Oh, come on. You two definitely have something going on. Theo thinks so too.”
“Theo thinks so too.” She mocked in a childish voice, before the three of them collapsed in laughter.
“Face it, Hermione, you’re one late-night broomstick ride away from being the next slytherin power couple.” Ron said after a moment, and Harry snorted. “Between you and Harry looking like a lovesick Puffskein every time Nott’s around, I’m carrying the gryffindor torch all on my own.”
“If it helps, I’m sure there’s a Hufflepuff out there just waiting to tolerate you.” Hermione was still grinning.
Ron clutched his chest in mock horror. “A Hufflepuff? Mione, please. Have some respect.”
“Come on,” Harry said, standing up and grabbing his broom. “Let’s get out there before Ron starts proposing to the goalposts out of desperation.”
“Hey.” Hermione stopped them for a moment, reaching for their hands. “I’m glad we get to do stupid things like this together.”
“Yeah. Me too.” Harry smiled, as Ron nodded.
“I love you both, even if you’re shagging snakes.” He smirked. “Let’s go and trounce Mione’s boyfriend!” He declared, all but skipping out to the pitch.
“He’s not-” She started, but was silenced by Harry’s withering look. “Yeah, ok.” She relented. Harry smiled and slung a lazy arm over her shoulders.
“I’m not doing double dates.” He said.
“Godric, no.” Hermione agreed.
With little more than a last minute huddle with Victor, the team soared off into the sky. High above the pitch, the royal blue robes of Hermione’s team, edged in gold, contrasted sharply with the black and crimson of Draco’s squad, who were already circling the pitch. They hadn’t wanted to show any house pride with their colours, seeing as the team’s were a mix. It had still been impossible to get Draco to agree to anything other than black, though.
She found Draco easily, seeing as he’d already been looking down at her. Hermione simply raised an eyebrow, and he nodded, his smirk hinting at confidence. She laughed, and he seemed to watch her do so with rapt interest before shooting off higher into the sky. Setting her face with determination, she took her seat as the whistle blew. The game was on.
Draco darted forward instantly, grabbing the Quaffle with practised ease, weaving through defenders as his team charged into Hermione’s territory. He passed the ball to Blaise, who was quickly blocked by Padma. The two chasers clashed mid-air before Blaise lobbed the Quaffle to Daphne, who went in for the first shot.
Ron, in goal, lunged with a stretch that seemed impossible and just barely knocked the Quaffle away, sending the crowd - and Hermione - into an uproar.
"Nice save, Ron!" Harry shouted from above, circling as he kept his eyes out for the elusive Golden Snitch.
Hermione’s team quickly gained control of the game. Cho, agile and quick, zoomed past Neville and caught a sharp pass from Theo. She twisted mid-air and scored the first goal with a perfectly aimed throw through the left hoop.
“Ten points to Granger’s team!” bellowed Lee Jordan, who was commentating with his usual flair.
Draco’s eyes narrowed as his team quickly regrouped. With a powerful surge, he led his chasers back into the fray. The game went back and forth, both teams relentless in their pursuit of victory. Parvati, defending her hoops for Draco’s side, made an incredible save as Theo tried to score again, deflecting the Quaffle just in time.
Meanwhile, the Beaters were wreaking havoc. Cade Knotts swung his bat with precision, sending a Bludger hurtling toward Heather Sparks, but Neville intervened, knocking it away just before it collided with her. Heather gave him a quick appreciative nod, and the game continued at a dizzying pace.
By now, Hermione’s team was leading, 70-50, as they coordinated smoothly. Cho and Theo passed the Quaffle with stunning accuracy, and even Emil Arroyo, the youngest chaser on the team, managed to evade Daphne and Blaise to score another goal, widening the lead. Viktor shouted instructions from the sidelines, urging his team to stay focused.
Draco wasn’t giving up, though. He caught the Quaffle, his eyes flashing with determination, and shot forward, zigzagging through opponents. A sudden spin, and he passed to Daphne, who fired the Quaffle through the center hoop, bringing the score to 70-60. Hermione might not have been on her team, but she was overjoyed that Daphne had scored and cheered loudly all the same.
High above the rest, Harry and Ginny were locked in a game of their own. Both Seekers flew in constant loops and dives, eyes scanning the air for the telltale glimmer of the Snitch. Ginny, her red hair blazing behind her, had a sharp focus and professional experience, but Harry couldn’t be counted out. He was, after all, Harry.
Suddenly, Hermione’s team gained momentum. With a series of rapid passes between Padma, Cho, and Theo, they broke through Draco’s defence. Cho, in particular, was unstoppable. Hermione figured that shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise. She scored another goal, raising the score to 90-60 in Hermione’s favour.
But then, in a split second, everything changed.
Ginny’s eyes widened as she spotted something glinting near the Ravenclaw stands - a flash of gold. The Golden Snitch hovered temptingly close, flickering in and out of sight. Without hesitation, she dived.
“Ginny’s seen the Snitch!” Lee exclaimed excitedly. “Harry’s after it too!”
Harry noticed a heartbeat later, and both Seekers streaked toward the same point, hurtling toward the ground at breakneck speed. The crowd gasped as the two collided, their hands reaching for the Snitch. They pulled out of the dive just before hitting the ground, spinning through the air as they chased the tiny golden ball, but Ginny was faster, more determined.
Hermione’s team, oblivious to the unfolding drama above, managed to score again, bringing their lead to 100-60. The match seemed all but won.
Then Ginny’s hand closed around the Snitch.
Time seemed to freeze as she raised her fist triumphantly, the tiny ball’s wings fluttering in her grasp. The stadium erupted in cheers, though Hermione’s team groaned in defeat.
“Ginny Weasley catches the Snitch!” Lee’s voice boomed through the stands. “Malfoy’s team wins by 210 to 100! What an incredible finish!”
Ginny landed, breathless but victorious, her smile wide as her teammates swarmed her in celebration. Draco clapped her on the back, his smirk now one of satisfaction, before running across to Parvati and pulling her into a surprisingly warm hug. Hermione’s team, despite having dominated the scoreboard for most of the match, had lost to the Snitch’s sudden capture.
Hermione herself ran over to Harry, who landed beside her with a rueful grin. “You almost had it.” She said, shaking her head with a smile.
“Almost.” Harry agreed, watching as Ginny celebrated with her team. “But Gin’s impossible to beat when she’s focused.”
As the crowd slowly dispersed and the players made their way off the field, it was clear that this Quidditch match would be remembered as one of the closest Hogwarts had ever seen. All because Draco had dared Hermione in the common room. Utterly ridiculous, she mused, even if she had a wide smile on her face.
“Congratulations, I suppose.” She grinned at Draco, who had sauntered over to her, looking impossibly smug.
“That sounded as if it physically hurt you to say.” He said, and she rolled her eyes.
“I’m not agreeing you’re the greatest quidditch player. You won because of Ginny.”
“I don’t deny it. Weasley’s a force to be reckoned with.” He shrugged, moving slightly closer. “You almost had us, though.”
“Was a close run thing.” She smiled up at him. “I think we’re pretty evenly matched, Malfoy.”
“It’s been pointed out to me once or twice.” He replied. "How about we settle this once and for all?" He added, his smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Settle what?" Hermione asked.
"Who’s better." He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to that familiar, drawling tone. "You, me, no teams, no Weasleys - just a good old-fashioned one-on-one."
Hermione blinked at him, then scoffed. "You want me to get on a broom? Have you taken a bludger to the head? It’s like you don’t know me at all.”
"Afraid you’ll lose?" he shot back, the smirk widening.
"I’m not afraid," she said firmly. "But I don’t fly, and you know it.”
"Ah, that’s right," he said, feigning realisation. "The brilliant Hermione Granger, the only witch in history who hasn’t figured out how to enjoy flying."
"I enjoy having my feet on the ground, thank you very much." She replied, though her cheeks were tinged pink now. "Unlike some people, I don’t need a broomstick to prove my worth."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "I’ll get you on a broom one day, Granger. I suppose I’ll have to find some other way to beat you in the meantime."
"At what?" She challenged, stepping a little closer. "Because I’m fairly certain I’ve beaten you at everything else that matters."
"Debatable." He said, though his tone lacked its usual sharpness. In fact, his expression had softened just enough to catch her off guard. "You do have a knack for getting under my skin, though."
She tilted her head, her brow furrowing. "Was that a compliment?"
"Maybe." He admitted, the teasing edge giving way to something warmer. "Don’t let it go to your head."
"Too late." She quipped, her voice faltered slightly as she caught the way his eyes lingered on hers.
For a moment, they just stood there, the usual barriers between them seeming less insurmountable. The air around them felt charged, yet strangely delicate, as if one wrong word could shatter the moment.
"I guess we’re not so different, you and I." Draco said finally, his voice quiet but steady.
Hermione let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "You finally noticed?”
“Guess I did.” He admitted. He hesitated for a moment, then took a small step closer. The quidditch pitch around them seemed to fade to nothing.
"Malfoy, are you-" She started, but her voice caught in her throat when his gaze dropped briefly to her lips.
"Possibly." He said softly, his smirk now entirely gone, replaced by an expression so earnest it made her stomach flutter. "Would it be such a bad thing?"
She opened her mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come. Instead, she took a deep breath and, with a confidence she didn’t quite feel, closed the last bit of space between them.
"That depends." She said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Are you saying what I think you’re saying?"
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached up, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "For someone so clever, you can be a bit dense, Granger."
And then, before she could muster a retort, he leaned down and kissed her. It wasn’t at all like she’d imagined - not that she’d imagined it, she absolutely had not - but it was soft, and warm, and entirely too short.
When he pulled back, she stared at him, her cheeks flushed and her heart racing. "Well," she said finally, a little breathless, "that was unexpected."
"No it wasn’t, you daft witch." He smiled.
“No, I suppose not. Nor was it unwelcome.” She added quickly, a small smile tugging at her lips.
He grinned, looking impossibly smug again. "Careful, Granger. You’re dangerously close to complimenting me."
"Don’t push your luck." She said, but her smile widened as she turned to walk away, looking to find her team and congratulate them on such a good match, even if they’d lost. “Your ego is bad enough already.”
"Same time tomorrow?" He called after her, his tone light but his eyes serious.
She glanced over her shoulder, her expression teasing. "Only if you promise to keep your feet on the ground, Malfoy."