Chapter 6
Hermione POV
The next week was the Quidditch tryout, and she and Luna were sitting in the benches. If she were to be honest, she didn't have much interest in the game. It was an unnecessary risk flying at high speeds chasing after balls, but she knew her sentiments were not shared by the majority in the magical community. She was here just to support both Harry and Ron.
Luna had her pink googles on, which she had named snargle-identifier something, which Hermione had already forgotten.
She was itemizing the tasks she had to do when she finally went back to the Gryffindor Tower. She had-(i)transfiguration essay, (ii)DADA essay, (iii)note-making of History of Magic, and (iv)revision of Charms notes. She itched to just go back to her room, but that was not something a friend would do, so she stuck around.
In her zoned out phase, she didn't realize a rogue bludger had escaped and was zooming in the general area of the benches where she was seated with Luna. It was only Luna's shout and a flash of red and dust, shards and smoke around her that she realized the bludger had been neutralized right before it could smack her face.
It seemed when the red had flashed in front of her, her attention had sharpened, every sense on high alert and her eyes moved to the direction of the spell. Tom Riddle had his wand out, his face whiter than his usual pallor, eyes a little wild but focused on her.
As she took another shuddering breath and their eyes met, the wild torment in Tom's eyes receded and the usual sangfroid that he sported, masked Tom's face again. When had he come on the field—she didn't know the answer to that, but right now, she couldn't be more grateful for his presence, for whatever had been his machination against her that had landed her in the infirmary—today, he had undeniably saved her, and from the raw emotion in his eyes, this was no pretence on his part.