Bad Blood: A Dramione Fanfiction

Chapter Six

Hermione

Harry and I walked through the doors of the Great Hall on our way out of dinner. It has been a week since my encounter with Draco, and since then, we have shared absolutely no form of social interaction.

Ron and I also haven't talked, besides muttering an apology when we run into each other in the corridor. Which means we're not together anymore, I suppose. Oddly enough, it doesn't bother me as much as I anticipated.

"It's really nice outside, Hermione," Harry says, "and you haven't been outside since we came back. You should come and sit out on the Quidditch pitch while the Gryffindor team practices." I contemplate his offer for a moment. My homework is finished, and I haven't had any time outside since we arrived.

"Sure, I could use a little sun, anyway," I laugh, and he smiles. We change our direction to the main entrance. Tons of students are heading there also. Some are dressed in Quidditch gear, obviously going to practice.

Once we step out of the door, I realize that the weather is actually very nice. The sun is shining, yet it is not hot; it's almost a bit cold, due to the slight breeze.

"Have you talked to Draco?" Harry asks, and I look out at the Black Lake as we venture towards the Quidditch pitch. He knows that Ron and I haven't talked.

"No, not since last week," I answer, and I wonder where he is. If he's outside, or in the common room. I bet his hair looks beautiful in the sunlight.

What am I thinking?

"Are you still Quidditch captain?" I ask him, changing the subject. Although I do genuinely wonder if his position withheld throughout all of the troubles of the past few years.

"Why, yes I am." He smirks, obviously proud of his title. I laugh at him.

I undo the braid that my hair was in, and my wavy hair falls back into place around my shoulders, warming me up. A group of students await Harry at the entrance to the Quidditch pitch. Everyone waves and smiles when they see him.

"I suppose I'll just sit on the bleachers then." I say as the others rush to get their brooms. Honestly, just sitting on the bleachers spectating a Quidditch practice is one of the last things I want to do, but it's better than being inside.

"You know, Hermione, you could always join the team." Harry suggests, going to the team preparation rooms, where the Quidditch supplies are.

"Are you serious, Harry? Have you ever even seen me fly on a broom?" I scoff. I'm not good at flying; I'm more of an academic person.

"Yes, I have seen you fly. You're a fairly decent flyer-" He explains.

"Fairly decent," I repeat, "Gee, thanks."

"You know what I mean," He says.

"Well, no, thank you. I'm more of a student than an athlete." I respond as he grabs his broom.

"Mhm." He slides on his Quidditch gloves as he walks out onto the field. The field has been replaced, for it was very damaged and unusable after the war. Now it looks just as it had before.

I stride up the steps and take a seat at the very top of the bleachers. Suddenly, I wish I had something to read; Quidditch practice usually lasts very long, and Harry will want me to stay the whole time. I get out my wand and exclaim, "Accio book!" I turn around and look at the castle entrance, waiting for a book to come flying through it. And I keep waiting, waiting, and waiting until I finally get hit in the face by one giant piece of literature. The joys of being a witch.

The book is Capturing Hogwarts, a documentary about my school. It is quite like Hogwarts: A History. I flip through the pages, mostly observing the pictures, since the ruckus from the Quidditch field is distracting. Most of the stuff I already have knowledge of, anyway. I sigh and close the book, since I cannot concentrate and there is no reason to reread information.