Broken

Darkness

The Quidditch stands were full to capacity for the final match. The noise of the crowds swelled to a roar as Lee Jordan introduced the two teams.

'It's Gryffindor versus Gryffindor in the tournament's grand finale!'

His voice echoed, floating across the lake to where Draco and Hermione sat. Hermione dangled her feet in the cool water, while Draco glared at the Quidditch stands in the distance.

'Stupid Gryffindors,' Draco muttered. 'Not you!' He corrected quickly, when Hermione raised an eyebrow at him.

'How about we take a walk out to Hogsmeade?'

'Sure,' Draco shrugged, his gaze still fixed on the pitch.

'Or we could go watch the match?'

'I told you, I don't want to. No matter what happens, it'll be a Gryffindor victory and I just can't stomach watching that right now.'

'Hogsmeade it is then.'

Hermione hauled him to his feet and they trudged back up to the castle to get their things. Hermione sent a message to her family, letting them know where she was in case the match finished before she returned.

*****

The weather was warm, with a cool breeze that ruffled Hermione's dress as they left the Hogwarts grounds.

They walked in silence through the winding road that led to the nearby village. Hermione could see Draco was brooding.

They strolled down the high street, ignoring the curious stares of the people they passed.

A flashbulb exploded in their faces as they looked in the window of Honeydukes. Hermione stumbled backwards in surprise, and Draco's arm snaked around her waist to steady her. Another burst of light blinded them.

As the spots cleared in her eyes, Hermione looked into the heavy-jawed face of Rita Skeeter. Her photographer, Bozo, hovered nearby with his camera poised.

'Oh, Jeez,' Hermione groaned.

'What?' Draco squinted, rubbing his eyes. 'Oh no. Not you.'

'Well well, what do we have here?' Rita beamed at the pair, her acid-green quill laced between her thick fingers. 'The infamous bad boy, the Death Eater himself, with the nation's heroine, the Gryffindor Princess?'

Draco growled, his fingers digging painfully into Hermione's side.

'Scuttle away, Rita. Go bug someone else.' Hermione snapped, staring the older woman down.

Rita tutted and spun on her heel. The quill danced over the notebook clutched in the hand, scribbling notes as she stomped away.

'I'm sorry I ever helped that hag,' Draco snarled. 'She's such a nasty piece of work!'

'You never know, whatever she writes about us might help clear your name,' Hermione suggested, hopefully.

'Or destroy yours.'

'Nothing new there.' Hermione shrugged. 'At least this time I know better than to open my hate-mail without testing it first.'

'I'm sorry.' Draco hugged her against him.

'Let's go buy enough sweets to make our kids sick instead of worrying, OK?'

'She better leave them out of this.' Draco hissed, glaring in the the reporter had gone.

'She will if she knows what's good for her,' Hermione told him, her voice low and menacing.

*****