Who Knew?

The Quidditch Game

This Saturday's breakfast was splendidly delicious. Bagels with every spread you could imagine.

I already knew today was going to be special, so I took a leap of faith. I waited for Draco to finish eating outside of the Great Hall.

Once he finally waved off his friends' conversational hook to draw him back, I looped my arm around his and pulled him aside to an empty corner, out of view of the Great Hall.

"Woah, getting a bit hasty aren't we?" Draco stated sarcastically, with a hint of surprise.

"Shhh" I shushed, putting my finger to his lips. He smiled against my childish attempt to keep him quiet.  He then backed up a step and leaned in close to my face.

"What would you like to do to me today?" He smirked playfully.

"I would like for you to walk around with me. I need some fresh air." I responded with suspicion. "What do you mean by do to me?"

"Oh, nothing." He shrugs, obviously implying that it didn't mean nothing.

"You're odd." I say, taunting him.

"And you're coming with me." He states, lacing his fingers through mine and dragging me along behind him out the nearest exit.

He led me to the quidditch pitch. I had completely forgotten Gryffindor had a match tomorrow.

Against Slytherin.

Draco dropped my hand and whirled around to face me. A malicious look crawls up on his face and he chuckles lightly.

"An exciting day we have tomorrow, Abbott."

"Especially once Gryffindor takes the lead." I bait. He is adorable when he's competitive.

"You wish!" He grunts, pretendedly annoyed. I giggle at his dramatic eye roll accompanying his statement. I clear my throat to make another comment.

"I make a fair Keeper, I must say. It's hard to get much passed me."

"Leave it to me to win the game then," Draco says with a smirk playing with a sickle from his pocket.

"You couldn't best Gryffindor in a million years!" I reply laughing fully now. He flips his coin and catches it swiftly.

"(Y/N)?" Another voice cracked the silence. I turn on my heels and come face to face with my best friend. Hermione.

"Hermione! What a surprise!" I exclaim with surprise to hide my fear and embarrassment of being caught talking to Draco Malfoy. Alone.

Hermione glares at Draco, staring daggers into him and his careless coin flipping. She clears her throat.

"And what do you want with (Y/N)?" Hermione snaps. At that snide question, Draco pockets his sickle and glares back at her.

"Nothing, she's all yours."

His answer disappoints me, it stung a bit. Hermione then grabs my wrist and tugs it so tightly in the opposite direction that I thought I had rope burn. She drags me all the way back to our shared dormitory and roughly seats me on my bed, across from hers. Hermione plops herself down on her bed and gives me the same dagger-sharp glare she gave Draco as she prepares to interrogate me.

"What had you been doing with Draco?" She spits out his name, as though it were an insult.

"I-I was going to prepare myself for tomorrow's match." I lie. I'm lying to my best friend who trusts me. I feel awful.

"And why was he there?" She continues.

"He said he wanted to practice as well and we began to have a brief conversation about the match. Nothing more, Hermione."