Hidden Feelings - A Draco Malfoy Love Story

Chapter Nine

A/N I use some French in this chapter but be warned that I am not even close to fluent and I'm not entirely sure that a phrase used is correct...if you do know how it's written (and it's not whatever I wrote) then feel free to correct it! I'll change it as soon as I can.

"This storm is awful!" I exclaim, giving up on the umbrella that emerges from the tip of my wand. The rain is hitting everyone at an angle from the harsh winds, rendering any attempt to block it useless. I'm shivering; due to an oddly-timed increase in the temperature, this storm is replacing the usual calm snow. That doesn't stop the air from having a bite to it, the fact that I'm already drenched not helping.

"Harry! You can't even see, can you?" Hermione calls out, even though we're standing only a couple feet away from him. Of course, it's necessary to yell, especially when a clap of thunder swallows the quidditch field.

"She's right. Your glasses," I shout, a small tremor from the cold silencing me.

"I'll be fine," he insists, but takes off his glasses for the tenth time to wipe them on his robes as if it would prove to us that he could manage his way through this.

"There has to be something you can do, mate," Ron groans. "You can't even see the snitch!"

"Oh!" Hermione gasps. She whips out her wand and points it at Harry's face. He takes a few steps back, and although the rain is coming down so hard that I can't even see well, I can make out his wide eyes. She says a spell, and tiny wiper blades appear, rapidly swiping across his lenses.

"Wow. Thanks, Hermione!" he laughs, blinking a few times. I give Hermione a thumbs up and quickly hug Harry, wishing him good luck, before running back to the stands. McGonagall had conjured tarps to go over the students; although they weren't as nice as the covers above the Professors' area, it would work well enough to block the rain. The Gryffindor section was placed where the wind was blowing away from it, so the rain wouldn't be hitting us.

I sigh in relief as the constant pounding of water on my body ceases. Hermione, Ron and I find a place to sit near Neville, who smiles at us. Hermione uses a drying spell on all of us, which immediately warms me up.

I've never found Quidditch as interesting as most do, but I find myself enjoying watching the game; obviously, I would like to be watching under better circumstances, but hanging out here is fun. I can tell that Harry is good, from the way he stays in the background to avoid being noticed by many. He stays higher than most others in order to look for the snitch, studying below him while flying around slowly.

Suddenly he stops, and I nudge Hermione, thinking that he has seen the snitch. Hermione notices too and lets out a squeal of excitement.

However, he doesn't move. He's staring down at the ground, and I see the Hufflepuff seeker look where his gaze is cast before moving on.

Although I've been dry for a while now, I feel a sudden cold pass over me, different than the first time. The excited shouts of the crowds quickly diminish. The players slow to a stop, their heads all turning to look at something above the Gryffindor section.

I know what it is when my mind goes blank. I can't hear the rain anymore, nor can I hear the few that still were speaking around me. Two voices begin to yell, and I let out a strangled gasp, leaning forward and covering my ears, my eyes squeezing shut.

When the feeling passes, the yells shift into screams. Not ones in my mind, this time.

My head shoots up just to see Harry fall off of his broom. Dementors had surrounded him, and now abandoned the Boy Who Lived to fly away. A scream escapes my own throat, and I stand up and begin to run out of the stands.