Through Different Eyes

year four; of quidditch and ferrets

Even though Draco knew that Hermione did not care for quidditch, he bought her a ticket to the World Cup game anyways. He had asked her if she was going, and although she admitted her two useless friends would be there, she had no intention of joining. This did not stop him from sending a ticket with his next letter. He didn't care for her opinion that much – he was too selfish and wanted to see her.

She used angry words in her reply, but Draco knew that she was as pleased as he was. The summer breaks were too long apart, and while letters kept them in touch, they just weren't the same. The ticket he had purchased was right in to top box where he would be. It would look like a coincidence, like she bought the wrong seats away from her friends by accident.

Draco snuck away from his parents once they had settled in their tent, telling them he was meeting up with friends. If only they knew exactly what friend.

He waited for her by the edge of the forest, eyes pealed to spot her. He just about almost ran to meet her once he did see her. As she got closer her pace quickened, and once she reached him she jumped in his arms. "Oh, I've missed you, Draco!" he squeezed her tighter.

"Why is summer break so long?" She giggled in reply, letting go of him. "How was your break so far?" They sat on a bench by the trail, concealed from view of the campsite by the trees.

"It was good, I mean I was glad to be with my parents after so long, but really, I was just waiting for it to be over. Oh," she added. "I can't believe you bought me that ticket!"

"Not that you're complaining," he remarked with a raised eyebrow. She agreed. "Besides, it's not like it even put a dent in my pocket."

"Alright, alright, I don't need to constantly be reminded of how rich you are."

A gong sounded, signalling it was time to enter the stadium. "Meet me during the game," he told her and they separated. Draco went straight to the pitch, but was stopped when Parkinson and Zabini interceded him.

"Malfoy, mate," Zabini greeted. "We've hardly seen you all summer, where have you been?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I missed one gala, Zabini."

"Ah, yes. I forgot how secretive you are. Never one to offer an explanation."

"I have no need to, seeing as it's none of your business." Zabini shared a glance with the girl next to him. Draco felt he should say something, to at least seemed mildly interested. "Where are you sitting?"

"Not Top Box like you are, I'm sure," Parkinson answered. "We're the next one over. And Nott and a few others, too." He nodded, spotting his parents about to enter and excused himself to join them.

"We'll see you later."

He spotted her as soon as he cleared the long flight of stairs, right in the front row among the never-ending ginger family and Potter. They were speaking with Minister Chocolate something or other, who spotted his father as they found their seats behind. How backwards – the Malfoy's behind the Weasleys!

"Ah, and here's Lucius!"

The three turned to look in his direction, and Draco hardly noticed Potter or Weasley's scowls and instead focused on Hermione. His father next to him greeted the minister and introduced Draco and his mother before Chocolate proceeded to introduce the clan in front of them.