A Fame Game

The flowers were just beginning to bloom. This is the first thought that came to Hermione's mind whenever any crazy fan girl had asked her when she and Draco had met. It wasn't entirely true, Hermione knew that. She and Draco had technically met in their first year of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but the first thing that Hermione had remembered about that particularly fresh day was that the flowers were just beginning to bloom. Nowadays she preferred to think of the whole thing as symbolism.

(One year earlier)

"Oh! Would you just look at the flowers? They are absolutely gorgeous!" Hermione exclaimed ecstatically to herself as she clung to Ron's waist only enough to keep her from keeling straight over the side of his broom. Springtime never looked so beautiful as the four of them flew over England's countryside and the purples, and pinks, and yellows, and blues positively shimmered across the lush green hillsides. Hermione's brown eyes stayed transfixed on them as the warm wind whipped past her face, taking her obnoxious hair with it.

"WHAT?" Ron yelled back over the noise the clumps of wind made as they passed. Hermione grinned to herself and glanced over at Harry and Ginny who were riding on separate brooms, both looking stone-cold, and determined not to look at each other. Hermione sighed and thought about why exactly the two were in a fight again. Ginny had insisted on riding her own broom to the game, and this offended Harry because the two of them were a couple and he didn't understand why she couldn't just ride on his broom with him. Ginny claimed that she was a big girl now, and that she could manage riding on a broom herself - and well this made Harry quite angry and he acted like a two-year-old and so the row commenced.

Soon enough the foursome began to descend upon a colossal orange stadium within which wizards and witches of all colored robes screamed and chanted and cluttered to their seats. Hermione wrapped her arms around Ron's waist in entirety as she hated landing the most, and feared that she would fall over with the turbulent motions.

"Ready to go see Malfoy make an arse out of himself?" Ron asked Harry with a dry laugh as they both dismounted their brooms and brought them over to the nearest tree.

"Oh, definitely," Harry replied shortly. "Should we leave them under this tree, then?"

"As long as we can remember it. I'm sure Hermione can help us with that," Ron placed his, Harry's, and Ginny's broom on the grass below the tree and then plucked Harry's invisibility cloak out of his bag to place over them.

"DON'T forget, Hermione," Harry said briskly before heading towards the stadium doors. "That's a Firebolt we're talking about."

Hermione could detect the sharpness in his tone but she didn't let it bother her - not on this glorious spring day. She waited for Ginny to join her side and then the two of them followed the boys into the stadium. Once they were in, she immediately regretted the decision to come.

Inside the hallways of the stadium there were large life-size posters of the famous former Slytherin himself, Draco Malfoy. His poster-self was waving and flying through a sea of fan girls all dying to cop a feel of his tangerine robes. Hermione heard Ginny pretend to vomit beside her and she suddenly had the feeling that she was going to do the same, only for real. Had she just felt attraction towards Draco Malfoy? No. No! It simply wasn't logical. She must have just thought that he looked decent is all. A wizard was much more than his looks, Hermione had to remind herself as the sick feeling in her gut subsided a little. She studied the poster for a moment while Ron and Harry went into a huge, emotional discussion about why Malfoy was not fit for fame. Perhaps he looked more interesting to her because she hadn't seen him since he left Hogwarts for Durmstrang their sixth year. Yes, that had to be it.

"Would you just LOOK at that pitiful expression? AS IF he could get that many girls to grovel in his direction!" Ron's face seemed to be flaming almost as much as his hair.

"I know! He's so fucking full of himself!" Harry joined in, his glasses askew from all of the hand gestures. Ginny rolled her eyes and stared vaguely at the orange streamers flying across the ceiling of the hallway.