I Am a New Day Rising

A/N: The Lyric this week is from “Come Fly With Me” – A Frank Sinatra song, but I have the cover by Michael Buble.

Enjoy!!!!

Chapter 5: Once I Get You Up There, I’ll Hold You So Near

Draco drummed his fingers anxiously. His mind wandered from Professor Flitwick’s high-pitched squeak discussing the origins of the Fidelius Charm and instead, with eyes trained on the window, he silently calculated the wind speed and angle of the sun, whether he should fly with or against the wind. A light breeze would be ideal for the Quidditch competition. Charms class would end mid-afternoon, putting the sun behind the trees of the Forbidden Forest. Draco smiled to himself; he was prepared.

He tore his eyes away from the window. Nearly every one of his classmates had diverted their attention from the tiny teacher. Ron and Neville covertly read the newest issue of Quidditch Weekly under the table. Seamus winked shamelessly at Lavender throwing her into a fit of giggles, which of course infuriated Hermione. Draco smirked as he watched her huff in her annoyance and strain to hear Flitwick’s every word. Hermione felt his gaze and caught his eye. He gave her a small smile. She returned it, finally taking her attention away from the professor. Propping her head on her fist she stared at Draco in open contemplation.

Only two men had ever gazed at her so openly. Victor Krum never seemed to take his eyes off of her, and when she looked into them all she saw was emptiness. Ron stared at her quiet often. As a confused 14-year-old, she thought she wanted to date him. During that time she had stared back. Her gazes on Ron had never lasted long, because his eyes spread an overwhelming eeriness down her spine, part of why she lost her feelings for him.

From his eyes, she could see his vulnerability and willingness. Her lips parted in realization as she stared into his eyes, forgetting the world around her. The longer she looked, the further she was pulled into him. Soon she was lost in a memory.

0o0o0o0o0

“My Gods, Granger. Do you think you could scrub any harder?” Draco hissed. His grip on the pillow tightened to cope with the pain.

Hermione did not know how to react to the injured blonde. Her brain told her to come up with a snappy retort and physically show him she could scrub harder, but her heart told her to do the exact opposite. Despite herself she bit her bottom lip and swallowed the rude comment. “Sorry.” She whispered as she began to clean his wounds with less pressure.

Draco frowned, expecting a comment to follow. “I don’t need your pity, Granger.”

She sighed, unsure how to navigate this conversation. “I know. But you deserve it.”

“I don’t deserve anything.” He winced when he felt the warm cloth swipe over the unscarred gash on his right shoulder.

“You deserve much more than you seem to think, Malfoy.” Unaware of the origin of her honesty, she continued. “It takes a lot to stand up for what and who you believe in. The fact that you did it to the most menacing wizard alive…well…you deserve everything we can give you.”

“Is that why you are cleaning my wounds and not some unknown medi-witch at St. Mungo’s?”

“Would you rather that? I’m sure I can find someone you don’t know.” She did not stop her cleaning of his oozing wound and Draco remained silent. Hermione dipped the bloodied rag into the bowl by the bed and squeezed out the pinkish water. As usual she started to sing to cover the awkward silence. “So help me if you can, I’ve got to get, Back to the House At Pooh Corner by one, You’d be surprised there’s so much to be done, Count all the bees in the hive –“

“Why do you always sing that song?”

Hermione pursed her lips, unsure if she wanted to open up about her Muggle life. She swallowed her fears. “My mother used to play the record all the time. It reminds me of her.”

Draco took a deep breath. “Your parents are dead.” Hermione frowned at him. Draco willed his tears away as thoughts of his own mother pressed against his mind. “Was it hard…to cope?”

“Yes.”

“Does the feeling of…of complete sadness ever go away?”

Hermione’s heart softened toward the typically cold, young man. Clearly the loss of his mother plagued him. For whatever reason, she brushed his long bangs out of his eyes, causing him to turn to look at her. “It will fade, but once in a while you remember something or you see something that reminds you…then it hits you all over again.” Their eyes locked, and she was unable to let go of the gaze. It was as though he was searching for something – for her forgiveness, for his salvation – in the depths of her honeyed eyes.

“Can you finish the song, Hermione?”

Hermione smiled at his use of her given name for the very first time. “Of course, Draco.”

0o0o0o0o0

It had been the first time she had become lost in his eyes, the first time she had shared a part of her with him, and the first time they had used first names. If she thought carefully, she could equate that moment to the time they became friends. Under the connection of losing a parent, they had become friends. Now looking into his eyes, she saw more than a sad young man looking for hope. She saw caring, want and, possibly, even love.

She furrowed when she saw Draco slam his textbook shut on his parchment and shove his things into his bag. Confused she looked up at Professor Flitwick. Quickly she copied the assignment down under her incomplete notes. Draco walked over and peered at the parchment as she uncharacteristically wrote in an untidy scrawl.

“Tisk tisk, Nee. You weren’t paying attention.”

She smiled as she copied. Trained on the task at hand, she replied, “Yes well…easily tempted, you know.”

Her reference to their conversation the week before made him chuckle. She picked up her bag and together they left the classroom, walking down the corridor. “Are you coming to the competition?”

“And miss my boys in action? You’re joking, right? Of course I’ll be there.” She swung her bag over her shoulder. “Do you feel ready?”

“I hope so.” Draco grinned and leaned closer to her to whisper, “I’m trying not to look so confident. Hopefully Potter will get a sense of false hope.”

Hermione chuckled. “Mind games never end well.”

“Never say never, Nee. Where will you be sitting?”

“In the stands.”

“Such cheek.” Draco laughed. “I’ll just have to look for you then. See you in a half hour?”

Hermione nodded and quickly brushed her lips against his cheek. “Good luck!” The whispers in the hallway increased. Draco grinned and ran in the opposite direction to get prepared.

~*~*~*~*~

Half an hour later more than half of Hogwarts, including the professors, had showed up to watch the final showdown between Draco and Harry. A friendship may have formed off of the pitch, but on it the two Seekers were very much enemies. Draco’s eyes blazed with determination as Neville released the Snitch.

“Scared, Potter?”

“You wish.”

Draco smirked before flying at top speed after the snitch. The sun was exactly where he had expected it to be. At this angle he would be able to see the flash of the gold Snitch everywhere around the pitch. He soared high about the stands scanning below him as he flew. Determination to win fueled his vigilance. He spotted Harry at the far end of the pitch search above him. Draco had a gut feeling the Snitch would be down low.

Draco’s vigilance faltered when felt her eyes on him. His heart warmed as he flew routinely around the pitch, the feeling not fading. He hoped that the feelings would never fade. He felt loved, regardless of the ambiguity of her true feelings for him. He let himself relax for a few minutes, silently hoping he would not curse himself for it later. He sifted through the crowd, looking for her. Harry and Draco had been flying for nearly an hour, and the crowd had thinned considerably. For the most part, the remaining spectators were the eighth years and the professors. His eyes finally locked with hers. She absentmindedly fiddled with her braid as she watched him hover in the sky.

His broom involuntarily moved toward where she sat in the Gryffindor section. When he got closer he realized her hair seemed to be dancing in the sunset. He squinted his eyes to see the colors of her hair. Gold? I don’t remember her having gold highlights in her hair. He looked a little more closely and then saw it. The gold wings of the Snitch had been reflecting the sunlight into her hair. Just as he was about to fly toward her to catch it, it flew away. He swore under his breath.

Harry was on the other side of the pitch, still looking for the tiny ball. Using every bit of his peripheral vision, Draco swooped down low to the ground, away from the Snitch. Everyone gasped at his sudden dive, and Harry took notice. He dived after Draco, hoping to catch sight of the prize. When Draco was certain Harry was about to overtake him, he barrel rolled out of the dive and soared in the direction of the Snitch.

Hermione jumped out of her seat screaming for Draco to fly faster. When she realized that his chase was going to be a little longer than expected, she started to chant under her breath. “Go…Go…Go…Come on, Dray.” Harry, having taken a minute to catch on to the diversion, crept closer and closer to him as they both raised after the same prize. Hermione watched Draco reach his arm out toward the gold ball. Harry inched in front ever so slightly, blocking the snitch from the crowd. Hermione screamed in frustration as they heard the enchanted whistle signal the retrieval of the Snitch – but no one knew who caught it. She held her breath waiting for Harry and Draco to circle back toward the crowd.

Hermione let out a deafening scream of happiness when Draco zoomed to the ground grasping the small golden ball. She clapped her hands and squealed in delight as she raced down the stairs to meet Draco on the field.

“I WON!” Draco said as he ran to meet Hermione half way. She laughed at his explosion of emotion. Their bodies collided into a celebratory hug, and Draco lifted her up and spun her around.

“I knew you would, Dray!” Holding on to him tight, she continued to laugh. Her feet soared in the air almost as though she was flying as well, but he kept her grounded. He finally put her feet back on the ground and their laughter faded as their eyes met. She pushed his sweaty hair out of his eyes. “You fly so beautifully. I knew you would win.”

“Thanks.” He answered huskily. His empty hand traced her jaw line and rested it against her cheek. Hermione’s lips parted as Draco’s head dipped down. Anticipation ripped through Hermione’s body, only to be shattered by Ron’s angry holler.

“Bloody hell! He cheated!”

Draco’s head snapped up in fury. He wanted to murder Ron for disrupting his celebratory kiss and the allegations he was spitting. Hermione groaned and let her head fall to Draco’s chest in frustration.

“Excuse me?” Draco looked up over Hermione’s head.

“You heard me, Malfoy. You. Cheated.”

“Like hell I did, Weasel.” Draco sneered. Hermione cringed at Draco’s use of Ron’s old nickname. “You have no reason to think I did. I just played the game.”

Harry had just arrived at the scene, after being consoled by his girlfriend. Ginny frowned at her brother. “Stop being a git, Ron. Everyone knows he didn’t cheat.”

“How else do you explain the fact that his old broom model out flew Harry’s brand new model?”

“Smart flying.” Harry answered. “Back off, Ron. Malfoy didn’t cheat. He won fair and square.” Harry held out his hand to the blonde. “Congratulations. Good game.”

Draco took it without hesitation. “You too, Potter.”

Ron huffed dramatically and stormed out of the pitch. Harry looked at Ginny with an air of defeat, not over the competition but over his friend. Hermione sighed as she saw another reason for Harry to lose his grip on his friendship with Ron. It was not her intent to drive a wedge between the two friends, but Ron was making it extremely difficult for anyone to stay close. Hermione gave Harry a consoling hug and kiss on the cheek. He thanked her as he wrapped an arm around his girlfriend.

With a bit of guilt, Draco watched Harry and Ginny turn and leave the pitch. Draco could tell Potter was upset, just as he would have been if he had lost. Winning the competition had been an immediate ego boost for Draco. He had beat Harry one, final time, officially. Draco did not think about the future often, but he hoped that the years to come had several Quidditch games with the raven haired Seeker. Harry presented a challenge to him, and very few things in his life did that.

“Hot chocolate in the kitchens to celebrate?” Hermione asked cheerfully as she boldly wrapped her arm around his toned waste.

Draco smiled. “I can’t say no to chocolate.” He would verify if his friendship with Harry was still intact tomorrow. Tonight he was going to celebrate his victory with the curly-haired witch who had unknowingly stolen his heart.