A Reason To Be

It was Monday and Draco was strolling down the many flights of stairs, his destination was the dungeon for Potions class. He came to one of the main staircases and saw Hermione, on the same route to class. As he slowly closed the distance between himself and the pretty young girl, he also noticed two other, drastically less attractive girls coming closer as well. Millicent and Pansy were coming from the opposite direction and were pointing and giggling at Hermione. Of course Draco knew that there was no way this could be good. And that was when it happened. Draco was not fast enough to stop her, not that he could have done anything at that distance that would have made a difference. With a small flick of her wand, Pansy sent Hermione’s feet flying out from under her and she went tumbling down the stairs.

Draco’s breath caught in his throat but then he breathed a sigh of great relieve when he saw that Hermione had stopped herself after there stairs. Draco jogged over and held his hand out to the girl attempting to get up.

“So graceful, Granger.” Draco said as he pulled her up to her feet. Hermione stood up and rubbed the spot on her back where she had hit the stone steps.

“I know. I don’t know what happened.” Hermione said somewhat confused. As she stooped to pick up her bag and books, Pansy and Millicent past by her. Draco scowled at them as they went by and muttered something under his breath. He didn’t have his wand out but he whispered spell and a moment later both Millicent’s and Pansy’s feet flew up above their heads and they hit every step on the way down the staircase. Unfortunately there had only been two steps left so they were not terribly hurt, but it had been enough to offer Draco some satisfaction.

“What is it about these stairs? It seems everyone is falling today.” Draco announced loud enough for the two Slytherin girls to hear. The cast evil looks in his direction and then left quickly for their class. When Hermione had gathered her things, the two proceeded down the stairs and turned down the corridor on the right, chatting as they went.

“That is quite a bracelet.” Draco remarked when he noticed that she was wearing his Christmas gift to her. Hermione glanced down to her wrist and brought it up so that he could better see it.

“Yes I know, it’s beautiful. I just don’t know where the hell it came from. I told Madam Pomfrey it couldn’t be mine but she insisted that it was but said she didn’t know where it had come from. No one else has claimed it so I guess it really is mine.” Hermione commented. Draco could tell she really liked it. When she spoke of it she smiled and looked down at it. She kept moving it around so that it reflected the light. Draco nodded and concurred that it must be hers.

When they reached the Potions classroom, they went in and took their seats next to one another. The class began brewing a rather nasty looking and smelling potion that was supposedly a sleeping potion. It turned out rather bubbly, often splattering the students gathered around their cauldrons. When they had finished, Snape instructed them to put some in the bottles provided and bring it up to his desk to be graded.

“Do you think you can handle that?” Blaise asked Neville tentatively. Bringing the potion from one end of the room to the other seemed like an easy enough task but Blaise had confidence that Neville was talented enough to fuck it up some how. Neville insisted he could do and carefully ladled some of the horrendous goo into the bottle. He then grasped the small bottle in both hands and turned to take it to Snape. Neville being the talented young man that he was, tripped on his own bag sitting on the floor and fell. The force of his fall threw the bottle from his hands and the contents of it landed on Draco Malfoy’s face, who had happened to be seated a few feet away.

“I’m dead!” Neville squeaked when he realized what he had done. He scrambled to get up and was met with a less than thrilled Draco.

“You’re right.” Draco growled in a low voice. He began moving towards the terrified Gryffindor when Hermione turned around and knew she had to act quickly. She grabbed the handkerchief out of her robe pocket and stepped in between Neville and the young man that would kill him.

“It’s alright Malfoy, it comes right off. See?” Hermione said pleasantly and she stepped towards Draco and began wiping his cheek with her handkerchief. That was enough to take Draco’s mind off murder and onto the incredibly attractive young woman who was now extremely close to him, tenderly cleaning the green goo off his face. He looked down at her and she gave him the best smile she could muster, she was still not sure if her efforts had been enough to detour him from inflicting harm on poor Neville Longbottom. It was more than enough.

“Is it in my hair?” Draco asked quietly, secretly reveling in the fact she was doing this for him. While Hermione was doing this, Blaise quickly collected Neville and took him back to their table. Hermione shook her head at his question.

“No, your hair looks good as usual.” Hermione teased gently, wiping the last bit off his forehead.

“Thanks.” Draco whispered to her before she pulled away and went to dispose of the now soiled handkerchief.

“If you are finished, I would like your potion, in a bottle, on my desk.” Snape voice came from the front of the classroom. Draco nodded and poured some into the bottle and walked it up there. When he went back to their table and sat down next to Hermione, he noticed it something.

“Hold still, you have some in your hair.” Draco said, leaning over to her. He carefully picked out the ringlet that had the potion on it and wiped it off with the sleeve of his robe. When he finished he looked up and saw that Ron was glaring at him.

“Bottle your potion, Weasel.” Draco growled, very much annoyed with the boy. Then he leaned back into his own chair.

“Thank you.” Hermione said as she leafed through her textbook. Draco nodded and leaned over to see what page number he was supposed to be on.

Later in the afternoon, Harry and Ron decided to go to the Quidditch pitch to squeeze in some practice. The strolled down the hill and entered through the Gryffindor entrance. When they came out of the Gryffindor locker room, they were met with one of the strangest sights they had ever seen.

In the middle of the field was Draco Malfoy, dressed in a loose, green shirt and equally loose black pants. A few yards away sat two chests; upon further inspection the two concluded they were Quidditch chests. One they recognized as belonging to Hogwarts, other was black and they had never seen it before. It was not Draco’s choice of clothes or the two boxes that Ron and Harry found strange. It was the fact that four bludgers were circled and flew around Malfoy and he stood in the middle, dodging them.

“The prick wants to die.” Ron said bewildered. That was the only explanation he could come up with for such an activity. The two watched the young man in awe. It was like a meditation or some kind of art, the way he effortlessly moved. He dodged the four dangerously close bludgers with very little movement. He moved in deep bends and jumps, ducking under one only to jump above the next.

“No, I know this. I have read about it.” Harry said finally, though never taking his eyes off Draco.

“The Japan’s Quidditch team does this. It’s some sort of martial art. It’s like Tai-Chi with bludgers. It helps them become more aware, I think.” Harry explained to his friend. They stayed where they were and kept watching. A few moments later, Draco jumped up and caught one of the bludgers. He ran to the chest and secured it back in and went back to catch another one. None of them ever hit him. He always moved at the last minute, just enough to get out of harm’s way. He never tried to stop the bludger. He always went with it’s momentum until he could overpower it and put it back in its chest.

When he had caught all four and they were safely back in their places, Draco sighed and wiped his brow with the sleeve of his shirt. Then he bent over and grabbed a handle on both his and the school’s Quidditch chests. He looked up and saw that Harry and Ron were there and laughed. He knew that what he just saw was probably something they would not see again. He drug the chests over to them but said nothing to them as he passed them, heading for the exit.

“No wonder you never get hit.” Harry called over his shoulder to Draco as he and Ron moved onto the pitch.