Merely Misunderstood

Chapter Twenty-Eight

I followed Draco up the steps onto the Quidditch stands, and we were met by a large group of Slytherins, most of them older than we were, but a few in our year — Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson were there.

I recognized Montegue and Marcus Flint, but no one else was familiar to me — I wasn't all that into Quidditch. Sure, it was a cool sport, but I never really understood sports. However, even though I didn't understand the game, the school matches were still fun to attend.

But when we reached the spot where everyone was standing and looked over the Quidditch playing field, I noticed it was empty.

"I thought —"

"They're still hiding in the changing room," Marcus Flint interrupted me with a snicker. "Johnson saw us earlier before the rest of the Gryffindors arrived, so she's probably giving the lot a pep-talk," Flint guffawed when he finished talking as if what he'd said was hilarious.

"Johnson's the Gryffindor team captain this year," Draco explained to me in a low voice, and I nodded. I had no idea who this "Johnson" was, but I wasn't sure if it mattered whether I knew their captain — didn't I just have to know which team the players were on?

"What is she doing here?" I heard Pugface Pansy sneer behind my back. "She doesn't even like Quidditch."

Draco, who usually didn't snap at Pansy, was triggered by this snide comment. "I don't remember you being a fan, either, Pansy," he shot back, turning to glare at Pansy.

"I'm just saying she probably doesn't know the first thing about Quidditch," Pansy said with a smug look, shrugging offhandedly. "So why bother come at all?"

"Because Draco asked me to," I told her, smiling sweetly, and I could tell she was caught off guard by this. I knew Pansy had been crushing on Draco ever since first year, so in order to shoot her down, all I had to do was rub in her face that Draco preferred me to her.

Pansy couldn't think of anything to say, so she merely glared at me, and I turned back forward to face the pitch just as the Gryffindor team emerged from the changing room.

The Slytherins around me started calling out a storm of jeers and catcalls, their voices echoing loudly around the stadium.

Draco suddenly laughed as his eyes landed on Ron. "What's that Weasley's riding?" he called out in a sneering drawl. "Why would anyone put a Flying Charm on a moldy old log like that?"

I elbowed Draco in the side reproachfully as Crabbe, Goyle, and Pugface Pansy guffawed and shrieked with laughter around us.

Draco just winked unapologetically at me, and I glared back, crossing my arms angrily.

"Oh, c'mon, Brianna!" Draco exclaimed with ease, throwing his arm around my shoulder. "Lighten up! A little criticism will be good for them!"

"That's not criticism! That's just rude insults!" I cried angrily over the raucous laughter from the Slytherins as Pansy shrieked about Johnson's hairstyle looking like worms.

Draco sighed, rolling his eyes. "Well if you can't put up with it, then you're free to leave," he muttered, and I clenched my jaw angrily, shoving his arm off my shoulders.

"Fine," I said angrily, and I turned and headed for the stairs as the Slytherins burst into laughter again at something I didn't see.

"Brianna, wait!" Draco called after me, catching my hand. "Don't leave. I didn't mean that," he said as I turned to face him. He still had a smile on his face from whatever he'd just been laughing at, and even though this should anger me, I found that my stomach was full of butterflies.