When Enemies Interact

Chapter 8: Quidditch.

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A couple of weeks had gone by. They had moved into November and the weather had turned grey and miserable. Draco and Hermione had finished their poster, and the Polyjuice Potion was very close to being finished. The Quidditch season had just started and the first match of the season, Slytherin vs. Gryffindor, would be held the upcoming Saturday, but Hermione was having quite a lot of trouble in deciding whether to go or not.

Harry would of course be there, flying around, trying to find the Golden Snitch, with Draco right behind him and it was because of this that Hermione didn't want to go. Sure, she knew she should do the right thing and go and support her house team, Gryffindor, but she didn't want to support Harry. It was all too hard, as she knew that if she tried to support Gryffindor, she'd probably end up cheering Draco on more.

Yes, Draco. In all her attempts to dodge him in the corridors and not talk to him while in the library or during class, her feelings for him hadn't ceased a bit, in fact they had, somehow, increased and grown stronger and she longed to have his lips on hers again.

Little did she know that Draco was indeed feeling the same way about her. He longed for her day in and day out, his feelings for her growing stronger with every second of seeing and thinking of her, but he knew that he shouldn't try anything. She still seemed to be very uncomfortable around him...

"Are you coming to the match on Saturday?" Draco asked Hermione, while sitting in the library with her on the Wednesday, as they copied down something from a book for Professor McGonagall.

She sniffed, not looking up. She knew he was just trying to make conversation. "Depends how I feel on Saturday," she said and she didn't say anything more.

"Don't you want to come and support me?" Draco smirked sarcastically. Hermione looked up at him at this.

"If I went to support anyone, Draco, it would be the Gryffindor team, not you, a Slytherin," she said, before continuing to jot down the information for McGonagall.

"You'd rather support Potter than me?" Draco said in fake disbelief.

"I won't be supporting Harry, but I will be supporting the rest of the Gryffindor team," Hermione replied as if he should've known.

"If I get the Snitch, will you at least clap or cheer?" Draco said. Hermione looked at him again.

"What do you want, Draco? Do you want me to just forgive you and everything between us will be cheery again? Is that what you want? Because I honestly don't think I can forgive you that easily," Hermione said roughly, shaking her head. She paused a moment before continuing. "I understand that it wasn't your fault that you got as turned on as you did - It was just your body's own reaction, but it still scared me. That kiss has caused a lot of stress for me, Draco. Every single moment I've spent with you since, I've been worrying about you kissing me again. But the main problem is ... in my inner consciousness ... I want you to." She looked back down and continued to write. Draco stared at her in disbelief.

"You actually want me to..."

"In a way, yes," Hermione replied. "It's too wrong though and that's exactly why I've been acting the way I have lately." She went silent and turned back to the book.

Draco didn't know what to say about this. He was quite surprised that Hermione had admitted that to him, as he hadn't thought she was the type to do that sort of thing.

At least he had a small idea of how she felt about him, even though he knew she didn't want to feel that way...

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As Draco put on his Quidditch robes, he couldn't help but want, more than anything, to beat Harry and get him back for hurting Hermione. His hatred for him had, if possible, gone up a notch after seeing him in that corridor, cheating on Hermione with Ginny.

He hardly listened to the captain's pre-match pep talk and by the time he got onto the pitch, with the cheers of hundreds above him, the pictures of Hermione and him beating Harry to the Snitch were firmly plastered into his mind.

He mounted his broom and cast a dark look in Harry's direction, which, Harry returned with equal vengeance. Madam Hooch blew her whistle and the game began. Draco flew high above the game, looking around for a sign of the Snitch, while keeping close to Harry. He watched as Harry waved at Ginny in the stands and saw, with a jolt of his stomach, that Hermione was sitting alone a few rows behind her, in the back.

She had been watching him, but the moment he had noticed her, she had turned her gaze to the Slytherin goal posts, where Ron (he had become Keeper for the Gryffindor team back in their fifth year) made a spectacular save and threw the Quaffle to one of the Gryffindor Chasers.

Draco watched Hermione for a moment, before he saw Harry dive down out of the corner of his eye. He turned around and sped after him, hoping Harry hadn't really seen the Snitch, even though Draco could see it himself. A moment later a Bludger came pelting towards them and they both had to swerve off course to avoid it. A moment later the Snitch had disappeared once more. Harry turned to face Draco.

"You like her, don't you, Malfoy?" he said, glaring at him furiously. Draco didn't quite know what Harry was talking about, but glared back. "Do you like Hermione?"

"Hermione? Er, no. Why would I?"

"Because she's Hermione, anyone can like her. Even you," Harry said bluntly. "She's a very likeable person."

"Jealous Potter?" Draco sneered.

"Why would I be jealous, Malfoy?" Harry questioned irritably.

"Because you chose the wrong girl," Draco replied. "You chose the Weasley girl over Hermione. You broke Hermione's heart and she won't forgive you for it. You regret it, don't you Potter?"

Harry just glared at him furiously and opened his mouth to speak several times, but didn't seem to be able to find a sensible retort to throw back at him and closed it again. Draco smirked at him in satisfactory, before turning back around and looking up at Hermione in the stands.

"You'll never get her back, Potter, she's -" He stopped suddenly, as he watched, as if in slow motion, a Bludger speed straight towards the stands, straight towards Hermione, who was watching himself and Harry, obviously wondering what the were talking about. The Bludger was a couple of metres away from hitting her when she finally became aware of it and ducked down just in time, in fact, it was hard to tell whether it had hit her or not. As she stood up straight, white-faced in shock and fear, it showed the Bludger had missed her, though only just, and smashed into the wall behind her.

Draco flew over. "Are you alright?" he asked her, hovering some five feet above her. She nodded and sat down.

"Just get back to the game, Draco," she said, not looking at him. "I'm fine."

Draco did as she said and went back to the game, where Madam Hooch had awarded the Gryffindor team a penalty and given one of the Slytherin Beaters a fair warning to not let Bludgers stray towards the stands again.

The match continued for quite a while after that and Draco was beginning to wonder when it would end. He had only spotted the Snitch one other time, but it had disappeared again almost immediately afterwards.

He continued to fly over the game, close behind Harry, looking over at Hermione every now and then to see if she was still alright, though he had no doubt that she would be. She looked perfectly fine and content, watching the game pleasantly and seemed to have overcome her shock from the Bludger.

It was when it started to rain that Draco desperately wanted to find the Snitch. He saw, with amusement, that Harry was having quite a bit of trouble seeing as the rain steadily became heavier and was producing blurry vision through his glasses. Draco knew that it was always Hermione that used that little charm of hers to repel water from his glasses, but she wouldn't now and Harry evidently didn't know the charm himself.

It was then he saw it. Shimmering faintly fifty feet below, very close to the ground, in the middle of the pitch was the Golden Snitch.

Draco dived. He had seen it before Harry, but soon Harry noticed it as well and went speeding after him with alarming velocity. Draco was still in front, however, gaining speed quickly, and soon, he was only metres from it ... feet from it ... an arms length away from it, Harry now level with him. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a Bludger pelted towards them and hit Draco in the side of the head. The pain was excruciating and he was blinded by it, but Draco urged himself to get that Snitch. He stretched out his arm and made one final effort and was rewarded when he felt his fingers wrap around the tiny ball, it's wings flapping helplessly in his hand. He fell with a thump, glad that the Snitch had been so close to the ground. He distantly felt someone lying beside him, but he didn't take much notice as he only had time to hear the words: "Slytherin wins, one hundred and ninety points to one hundred and ten!" before he passed out.

"Is he alright?" asked an anxious Hermione, who had come down to the Quidditch pitch, just like the rest of the curious Hogwarts students, to see both wounded Seekers. She gasped loudly when she saw Draco laying unconscious one the ground with a nasty cut to the head, caused by the Bludger that had hit him. Harry lay next to him clutching a broken arm, courtesy of the same Bludger that had hit Draco.

"I'm fine, Hermione," Harry said, holding his arm and clutching it in pain.

"I wasn't talking about you," Hermione exclaimed hotly.

"Out of the way." Professor McGonagall was pushing through the crowd of people. She caught sight of Draco. "Oh dear. Miss Granger, please take Mr. Malfoy to the hospital wing. Potter, go with them and get that arm mended. Now."

Professor McGonagall helped Hermione levitate Draco onto a conjured stretcher and Hermione slowly led him up to the castle with her wand. Harry trailed behind with his arm in a sling.

"The Bludger hit me first," he mumbled.

"I know," Hermione said, her voice slightly cold. "I was watching. Draco got the worst of it. He'll be lucky if he hasn't got brain damage for life." She said this as if it was Harry's fault.

"Draco?" Harry repeated. "Please don't tell me Ron was telling me the truth about you falling head-over-heels in love with Malfoy? I mean I was suspicious when he called you by your first name during the game, but you -"

"Just because I call Draco by his first name, doesn't mean I'm falling head-over-heels in love with him!" Hermione snapped irritably. "Anyway, what does Ron know. He's being childish. Just like you are."

"Oh and why, may I ask Hermione, are Ron and I being childish?" Harry asked exasperatedly.

"Well," Hermione said. "He only got upset in the first place because I called Draco by his first name. That was before I really even started doing it. Then you, someone I thought had some brains and wouldn't do something this childish, are going along the same stupid lines as him. Accusing me of falling in love with someone I hated."

"Hated?" Harry repeated. "So you don't hate him anymore? Might I ask, Hermione, exactly what did he do to win your friendship so quickly?"

"He's stuck by my side while everyone else has taken yours. Even when you were the one that was in the wrong, not me." She looked at him coldly. "He's not that bad, you know." Harry just scowled.

They had reached the corridor with the infirmary now and went silent. They opened the door and entered the hospital wing. Hermione floated Draco over onto one of the beds and lay him on it; Harry took a seat on another and left Hermione to knock on Madam Pomfrey's office door. The office door opened and the matron appeared.

"It's Draco, Madam. He was hit in the head by a Bludger and has been knocked out," Hermione said. "I think Harry's broken his arm as well."

"I'll be with you in a moment, Potter," Madam Pomfrey said, bustling over to Draco and taking a look at the damage the Bludger had made. "Oh dear," she sighed, "That'll take a lot of mending." She grabbed his wrist and checked his pulse. "We'll let him wake naturally, I think. We don't want him feeling to much pain before I mend it." She walked over to Harry.

"Hold out the broken arm, Potter," she said, taking out her wand. Harry stuck out the injured arm and she tapped it twice with the wand and muttered a few strange words. "I think you should stay in here for a few hours, Potter; until tea."

"But I'm fine," Harry argued. Madam Pomfrey was always fussy about these things.

"I think I'll be the expert of that, Potter," Madam Pomfrey snapped. "But if I'm satisfied, I'll let you out a little earlier."

About an hour later, Harry had left the infirmary and Madam Pomfrey had finished mending all Draco's injuries, which there was a surprisingly large amount of. He had bruises in some places that Hermione knew were not from Quidditch and she couldn't help but wonder where he had gotten them. She had a fair idea of the answer to that, however.

By the look of them, they were from rough belting and it only took one moment to guess who had given them. She didn't understand how, though, as they looked so recent and new. His father, Lucius Malfoy, couldn't possibly be coming up to the school to give these beatings, could he?

Hermione sighed and shuddered at the thought, finally deciding that it wouldn't be much of a surprise if he was.

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