Keeping Score

2:2

She saw him whilst out on a stroll of the Hogwarts grounds. It was early Christmas morning, just after breakfast, and most of the castle was still asleep. Apparently not Harry Potter though, since he took his position as Quidditch captain very seriously and was out practicing like he would usually do on Saturday mornings. Snow had begun to fall that night so all of Hogwarts was covered in white. Despite all of this, there he was up in the air above the Quidditch pitch perfecting his manoeuvres.

Hermione told herself that she was only watching him in case he ran into some trouble. Honestly, didn't he know how dangerous it was to be out flying alone during weather such as this? As brilliant as he was, he could be such a dunderhead sometimes. It would be a memorable Christmas for all the wrong reasons if Harry Potter fell off his broom and died. She was doing all of Hogwarts a favour by making sure an event such as that one wouldn't be written in Hogwarts, A History.

She sat up on the Quidditch stands thankful that she was a witch with knowledge of heating charms. She watched him fly as the snow continued to fall around him.

She had to admit that he was really graceful on the broom. It didn't look like was trying to fly, only that he was. He was in perfect control; he and the broom in perfect synchrony. He zoomed over the Quidditch pitch like a rocket, his body crouched low on the broom and a single arm outstretched in front. It was then that Hermione realized he was chasing after a snitch, and she soon heard an elated cry from above once he'd caught it.

As she watched, she felt this growing admiration inside of her. She wasn't keen on flying—an incident in first year ensured that—but she had always been aware of the mental and physical strength it required. It was only now, seeing Potter fly so freely in the air, that she started to truly appreciate it.

It must be such a thrill to be up there.

Potter must have realized he had an audience and she saw his broom make a direct beeline to her place in the stands. It took but ten seconds for him to traverse the full course of the pitch, and he soon was standing in front of her with his Firebolt clutched in his hand.

His hair was windswept, his cheeks flushed. He was clad in his winter Quidditch robes consisting of a woollen Gryffindor jumper, tight breeches, boots, and the signature hooded overcoat. He wore goggles instead of his usual glasses, though he had pulled them off when he landed.

Hermione thought that his eyes were startlingly bright as he looked at her. They showed confusion for a brief second before he gave her a smile. The corner of his eyes crinkled. The dimples on his cheeks appeared.

"Good morning, Hermione," he said, his baritone voice deep and husky from the cold.

She was silent, for she realized that that was the first time he'd called her Hermione. It had always been "Granger" before. She had never given it much thought in the past, since they had both always called each other by their last names. But now, hearing her name come out of his mouth, said so warmly even as his breath created little puffs of clouds from the cold, she realized that she really liked it.

When she didn't respond, Harry continued: "Merry Christmas."

His words jolted her out of her reverie and she acted on the overwhelming urge which had built up inside of her ever since she saw him flying that morning.

She launched herself into his arms. His eyes widened when her hand grabbed the back of his neck to lower his head into a kiss. She smacked her lips against his as she stood on her tiptoes to bring herself even closer to his warmth.

He was immobile with surprise. They'd been playing this game for the past week but there was something which felt different about this one.

For one, it was out in the open where literally anybody could see them. Their past dalliances were all in broom cupboards and empty classrooms; in dark corners of Hogwarts where no one would be the wiser to the heated competition between its two star students. He was okay with that, though he didn't really give a damn if someone saw them snogging each other's brains out. He thought that it was Hermione who wanted to keep this all a secret so he respected her wishes and he never initiated in public.