To Me, From Me // DHr ✔️

f o u r t e e n

No, the Slytherins didn't throw an after-party in celebration for their huge win earlier that day, which surprised Hermione very much. She's used to those, you see. The Gryffindors seized every opportunity to pass out illegally-smuggled-in-Firewhiskey and dance on any and every tabletop and couch, especially for winning at Quidditch. Heck, even when they lost, they still wanted to party. In true Malfoy fashion, Draco Malfoy would've paraded around the snitch in everyone's face, singing the god-awful 'Weasley is Our King' song (even though Ron was never present at the match) until someone finally got fed up and grew the balls to hex him. At least, that was what the Malfoy she grew up with would've done. Now, with the more downcast version in his place, she's not so sure what to expect anymore.

After the match, Malfoy surreptitiously slipped out in the midst of all the Slytherins in the stands who came down to the field to congratulate their team for their victory by attacking the players in a massive group hug that would've made their highbrow, snooty ancestors turn in their graves. She knows this because she followed him, of course. The question that stands is why she would choose to zero on him when just on the other side, her friends and her best friend, just lost a pissing contest to their long-time rivals. The answer? Well, she doesn't have one.

Everyone was at the pitch, which left the castle grounds unattended. Not like she would get in trouble, anyway, what with being the Head Girl and all. The matches, however important, are in fact non-compulsory. Hermione purposely placed a good distance between her and Malfoy as she struggled a bit to keep up with his quick-paced, and not to mention long, striding and she was so focused at not losing him that she didn't realize where he was heading – to the Astronomy Tower.

She hesitated going in for a moment, realizing the rudeness of her intruding in on Malfoy's alone-time, but before she could turn on her heel and walk away as fast as she could before he even realized she was following him, he already did.

"A deaf person would've heard your footfalls. There's a charm for that, you know." His drawl was lazy as he leaned his back on the rails, his elbows resting on the bar with his gaze on hers.

Tucking a stray hair behind her ear and forcing down the blush that was threatening to creep onto her cheeks, she spoke, lifting her head a little higher. "I don't know what you're talking about. I simply just wanted to come up here and enjoy the view."

He scoffed. "The view? You hate heights."

"The dragon I rode back when we busted out of Gringotts would hardly agree. I even petted him for the time of my life." She bit out, knowing full well that she was terribly afraid of heights and that it was more common knowledge than her love for books but didn't want to give Malfoy any more ammunition than he already has.

At her remark, Malfoy's eyebrow shot up suggestively. "I didn't know how much you liked riding dragons, Granger. If you wanted to ride this one, you need only ask." And he even threw in a wink.

It was only then that she realized the innuendo and merely rolled her eyes at him, whose smirk she wanted so bad to wipe off with an abrasive side of a brand-new sponge, or perhaps another slap. "You're not even trying. Could you be any more un-original?"

The two fell into a silence as she walked towards him, taking her place on the floor like she did before, her legs dangling out of the platform once again.

"So what are you doing here all alone and broody? Aren't you supposed to be in your common room right now being celebrated like a god?" She asked after a good ten minutes of just soaking in the cold afternoon wind. After this, only two more weeks before their ball, before they go on holidays, before Christmas. Time has suddenly moved all too quickly.

"Could ask the same to you. Aren't you supposed to be in charge of consoling Wonder Boy and the She-Weasel after their crushing defeat?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "What can I say? After doing it for seven years, shadowing your sketchy, pale ass has become a mighty tough habit to break."