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It wasn't quite yet winter but the cold air was enough to make her pull the sleeves of her jacket down around her hands. Harry and Ron insisted she didn't have to come to Quidditch tryouts but she found herself sitting in the chilled stands none the less. She glanced up every few minutes, wanting to support her friends even though the book in her lap was much better at keeping her interest. She wore muggle jeans and a simple red sweatshirt, pulling the hood over her head to keep the wind at bay as her eyes skimmed the pages.
“Only you would bring a book to the Quidditch pitch, Granger.” she closed her eyes briefly, gathering her patience, before turning towards Draco Malfoy who was now occupying the bench right beside her.
He was in all black robes, a bright green apple in his hand. He raised a brow in her direction, taking a large, crispy bite of the fruit as she met his gaze.
“These things have been known to go on for hours. I was just trying to be prepared.” she defended, snapping the book shut and turning her attention to the field. Harry was in the center, watching his teammates run drills while Cormac McLaggen did everything in his power to catch her eye.
“That poor bloke has been burning holes into your head for the better half of an hour. At least give him a wave or something. Hell, have a heart.” he said with a laugh, taking another loud bite of apple.
Hermione grimaced but refused to look in the blondes direction, still staring at the field. “He's vile.” she said simply, stuffing her hands further into her sleeves to keep warm.
“Yet you debase yourself by chasing after Weasley. Fascinating.” he stared out towards the field as well where Harry was now shooting a very angry gaze his way.
“I do not chase after anybody. And Ron has a girlfriend.” she finally looked towards him, her eyes fiery with annoyance.
The laugh that escaped the Slytherin's lips was as genuine as it was boisterous. “That's rich.” he took his wand from inside his robes, casting a muttered warming charm over the area she occupied. She instantly relaxed, freeing her hands from her sweater, eyeing him cautiously. “A wizard as unremarkable and dimwitted as Weasley managed to push someone like you aside and date someone else? Can't say I'm surprised.” he took a final bite of his apple before tossing it over the back of the stands.
“As always, I'm glad you find my suffering entertaining.” she huffed,pulling her legs up to sit cross legged on the bench, her book still closed in her lap.
“Kind of hard not to find that amusing. The guy is in your company 24/7 and manages to reject you for some undeniably dull, slag of a witch. Just when I thought he couldn't get any stupider.”
“I'm assuming that when you say 'someone like me' you're referring to the fact that I'm a mudblood?” she spat the word at him, surprised when he flinched slightly back.
“I was actually referring to the fact that you...” he trailed off, deliberately taking his time to find the words as he enjoyed her inpatient stewing. “Well, the fact that you look like this.” he gestured to her body from head to toe. “And have all the qualities a bloke might find appealing. While Weasley can't navigate himself around a tree.” Draco rubbed his own hands together, blowing into them casually as he watched the game, ignoring her gaze on him.
“No need to be pointedly hurtful, Malfoy. I know what I look like. I know what people think of me.” she opened her book back up, her eyes scanning the same sentence multiple times without comprehending a single word.
“Clearly you don't.” he said, standing up from the bench and nodding to Blaise who was waiting for him a few feet away. “You've a very appealing witch, Granger. The eyes, the hair, the face. Not to mention the brains. My point is, Weasley's a moron. Probably should focus your efforts on someone more your speed.”
She glanced up at him from under her dark lashes. “Someone who can navigate around a tree, you mean? Cormac perhaps?” she blinked, disgusted at the idea.
He let out a small chuckle. “Not exactly who I would've suggested. But still a step up from the ginger.”
Hermione watched over her shoulder as Blaise Zabini clapped his housemate on the shoulder, dropping his head to whisper something in his friends ear. Malfoy grinned, shoving the dark skinned wizard hard against the chest, the man losing his footing briefly before righting himself. Draco looked over to give the Gryffindor a final look, but the brunette witch already had her eyes back on the tomb in her lap.
“Let's watch the rest of the match. If we're lucky, perhaps Weasley will fall off his broom or get hit with a bludger.” Draco grinned, taking a seat with Blaise near the front, a few rows in front of Hermione.
“You actually talked to her? Never thought you'd pluck up the courage.” his friend commended him with pride.
“Got a lot of shit on my shoulders this year. Might not get another chance.” Draco's face fell as he chanced a look over his shoulder back at the bookworm. He was surprised to find her eyes already zeroed in on him. The sadness in her eyes was enough to make him think she must know what he was thinking at that very moment. She'd never look at him again after he completed his task of killing Dumbledore and letting his fellow Death Eaters into the castle.