Chapter 15- Aviophobia
Sleep eluded Draco most of the night. He did have many more questions to ask his father, but Malfoy Senior had conveniently whisked himself away. Draco spent his waking hours staring at the Love-Knot contemptuously and tugged at it several times, hoping that it would miraculously drop off.
When he finally did nod off, odd dreams plagued his mind. There was one where the Love-Knot had taking human form and had started laughing at him rowdily, mocking at his helplessness. Then there was another where he was stuck to Hermione for the rest of his life and she turned out to be a giant squid in disguise as a witch.
The most vivid nightmare, however, was the one where Draco and Hermione had gotten married in the most bizarre wedding ceremony ever. It took place in a large marquee at the manor’s courtyard, with decorations in fuchsia and blinding orange.
Mr. Malfoy was smirking to himself as he sat in the front seat, wearing a large hat that read: ‘I’M GOING TO BE THE NEXT DARK LORD BECAUSE MY SON’S MARRYING A MUDBLOOD’ in big, block and red letters. Mrs. Malfoy was in a ridiculous bright pink tutu, dancing around her husband, seemingly celebrating his victory. Pansy and a few other Slytherin girls were threatening to commit suicide in the far corner of the yard of the Malfoy Manor, while the rest of the Slytherins and Gryffindors were having a demonstration march outside, hollering protests at the wedding taking place. And for some reason, there was a very sinister-looking clown in place of the minister conducting the ceremony.
The last thing Draco recalled about that dream was that he and Hermione were standing at the altar, bawling their eyes out while a banshee screeched in the distance…
Draco was in a rotten mood the following morning, not only from the nightmares and the late-night meeting with his daddy dearest, but also because he remembered that it was Thursday, which meant that there was Quidditch practice after school. He still had not figured out how he was going to play with Hermione stuck to him. What was worse was that he had yet to essentially tell her that he had practice.
By midday, Draco was having a nasty headache from all the accumulated thoughts in his head. He had to find a solution to the Love-Knot problem, work out how he was going to play Quidditch, settle the tons of homework that had mounted up over the week and to top it all off, he was exhausted due to the lack of sleep from the previous night.
Hermione had noticed the disturbed look on Draco’s face during lunch at the Gryffindor table. She had been stuck to him long enough to know what that meant. Something was bothering the fair-haired Slytherin. She did not bother asking him anything though. She had too many things on her mind to worry about, most of which were to do the Love-Knot and the things Mr. Malfoy had said the night before.
“Hey Draco,” said Goyle as Hermione walked with the rest of the Slytherins to Herbology after lunch, “you comin' for Quidditch practice today? Most of the team’s asking if you are, what with your lil’ problem.”
Draco groaned. He watched as Hermione’s strides stopped short and she turned to stare at him.
“Quidditch practice?” Hermione asked, frowning. She had not thought of that before. She almost forgot that Draco was the Slytherin team captain. “You didn’t tell me you had Quidditch practice today.”
Draco had not been quite prepared to tell Hermione about it yet and he sure as hell had not wanted her finding out this way. Goyle and his big, fat mouth, he thought bitterly. “I was going to mention it to you,” he told to Hermione casually.
“And when exactly were you planning to mention it to me?” Hermione asked, folding her arms. “Five minutes before your practice actually started?”
Draco wanted to say, “I wasn't planning to tell you at all, you see. Just drag you along when the time comes and force you to ride behind me on the broom.” This was the truth. He had come to that decision merely half a minute ago.
But instead, he said, rather condescendingly, “I didn’t think it was necessary for you to know.”
Hermione raised an eyebrow and stared at the blonde, half amused, half frustrated. “So you thought I'd follow you to Quidditch practice without objection? What did you expect me to do while you're riding you broom? Dangle off the edge?”
“Look, I’ll figure it out. All I know right now is that I have to go to Qudditch practice. I'm the captain of the squad! And I love Quidditch. I'm not going to let this Love-Knot ruin it for me!”
“Malfoy, you're being ridiculous! How do you expect to practice Quidditch while being stuck to me?”
Hermione’s question was answered at the end of the school day, when Draco forced her to the Quidditch pitch. She had stood rooted on the spot outside the Astronomy classroom (the last lesson of the day) so that Draco would not be able to move her. However, she had no choice but to follow him when he threatened to carry her to the pitch.
Now, here she was, in the Slytherin changing room, with her back faced to Draco so that he could change into his Quidditch robes.
“Malfoy, there’s no plausible way you can ride that broom with me tied to you!” Hermione said sulkily, glad that the room was empty so that she could lash out at him. “This is a serious matter!”
“I know it is! All I'm asking you to do is to sit behind me while I fly on my broom,” Draco explained, fastening his green robes.
“You make it sound so easy, like we’ll be taking a nice, little walk along the beach,” Hermione said, hands on hips. “We’ll be flying a hundred feet in the air, at speeds of a hundred kilometers per hour! In addition to that, there’ll be Bludgers zooming around in every direction! And did I mention that other people will be zooming around on brooms as well?!”
“Exciting, isn’t it?” Draco said, genuinely meaning it.
Hermione’s jaw dropped. “No, it is not exciting! Terrifying, maybe. Dangerous, definitely. But not exciting! I can’t do it. I refuse to do it!”
Draco grabbed Hermione by the shoulders and spun her around to face him. He inched closer towards her, hands still on her shoulders with his wild gray eyes boring deep into her brown ones. “Listen Granger, I'm going to try explaining this to you nicely one last time.
“This means a lot to me. Quidditch means a lot to me. I just need you to sit on that broom, behind me, that’s all. You can even hang on to me, I don’t care. Will you do it without having me to use force?”
“Use force? What do you””
Draco clamped his hand over her mouth before she could continue. “Just shut up and consider my offer,” he said before slowing removing his hand. Merlin, give her the chance and she’ll never stop talking.
Hermione searched for something in his eyes, something to validate what he said to her. Validate what Quidditch meant for him.
Then she saw it. She saw in those exquisite gray eyes that he truly had passion and fervor for the sport, a similar passion that Hermione shared for books and studying. How could she say no to such passion?
A small internal battle was fought in Hermione’s mind and finally, she said, sighing “Oh, all right, I’ll hang off the edge of the broom for y”” She bit her tongue before she could say ‘you’. “For the sake of Quidditch,” she amended quickly.
Draco let out a breath he did not realize he was holding. He let Hermione go and grabbed his broom from a nearby bench, without even a 'thank you'.
“But Malfoy, before you get too happy, you’ve got to know one thing,” Hermione paused and wringed her hands together nervously. “I'm afraid of flying.” The mere thought of being airborne sent a quiver down her spine and she grew several shades paler.
“Granger””
“Actually, afraid would be an understatement. I'm terrified, scared to death of flying,” she babbled, growing more hysterical by the instant. “What if I drop off? What if I slide off the end? You have no idea how””
“Granger!” Draco exclaimed, shaking her by the shoulders to get her to stop talking. “You won’t fall. I won’t let you.”
Those words rang in Hermione’s ears for a couple of seconds. The look on Draco’s face suggested that he was not lying. There was not an ounce of doubt in his voice. He would not let her crash to the ground. No matter what.
The rest of the Slytherin squad ambled into the changing room fifteen minutes later. It did not take Hermione long to figure out that they were all male. She blushed a deep red when she saw that some of them were starting to change right there, not noticing her presence. She quickly stared down at the ground, pretending to be tremendously interested in the cracks covering the gray cement.
“Listen up!” Draco yelled in a voice that commanded attention. “I want to see everyone on the pitch in ten minutes. We’ll start with basic warm-ups, and then get straight to practice. I want the Quidditch Cup to be ours this year!”
“Hey Draco!” Theodore Nott called to his captain before he could leave. Despite the fact that the Slytherin team traditionally encompassed of either tall or heavy players, Nott managed to get on the team as a chaser because the previous captain thought Nott’s light weight and small built could be advantageous traits as a chaser. “She,” Nott pointed at Hermione, “is going to ride with you?”
“I don’t have any other choice, Nott,” Draco replied wearily. “That’s the only way I can play.”
The next few minutes passed too quickly for Hermione’s liking and before she knew it, she was mounting Draco’s broom, settling down behind him. Initially, she held on to the handle of the broom, not wanting to hold on to Draco.
But the instance that Draco kicked off the ground, Hermione immediately wrapped her arms around Draco’s waist. It was a survival instinct, you see.
At first, Draco was a bit puzzled with the feel of Hermione’s arms around his waist. However, he soon came to realize that he should concentrate on the game, and not on where she placed her arms.
“Chasers concentrate on the Quaffle, Beaters on the Bludgers and leave the Snitch to me,” he hollered. He continued to hover slowly, mainly for Hermione’s benefit. He did not want her getting all jittery as that might affect his attentiveness on the game.
Thankful that Draco was riding his broom at a moderate speed, Hermione willed herself not to look down or up and to just focus on the back of Draco’s green robes. She tried to disregard the weird sensation that was building up at the pit of her stomach as the broom rose higher above the ground. Her arms tightened around his waist unconsciously when she felt him pick up speed a bit.
“Goyle, hit that Bludger harder! What’s the matter with you? Haven’t had enough to eat today?!” Draco taunted his teammate loudly.
Breath, Hermione, breath, she instructed herself, trying not to notice that she was feeling a tinsy-bit nauseous. She realized that he was picking up more and more speed and her hands unthinkingly tightened around his waist.
“Granger, lighten up on that grip,” he shouted over the wind. “I'm not going to be able to breath if you keep holding me like that!”
“Sorry!” Hermione said, hastily loosening her grip. Breath in, out, in, out…
A minute passed with Draco still flying gently a few feet above ground, observing his teammates below. He could afford to do so because he had yet to spot the Snitch.
However, that was about to change.
The little golden ball whizzed pass Draco’s right eye and hovered just above the ground. Draco’s attention immediately focused on the Snitch and his concentration on his surroundings diminished. He forgot that his players were scattered all over the field, forgot that there was a Love-Knot around his wrist and most importantly, forgot that Hermione was clinging on to him for her dear life.
Draco prepared to dive from a hundred feet in the air, aiming his broom in the direction of the Golden Snitch that lingered near the ground. All his senses chanted to him one thing, “Get the Snitch, get the Snitch.”
Just as Draco launched his dive toward the Snitch, a blood-curdling scream belonging to Hermione echoed throughout the empty stadium, at once shattering Draco’s devout concentration and halting his dive in mid-air.
“Green, put up a notice in the Slytherin common room saying that we need a new Seeker. In the meantime, I'll observe all of you from the stands during your practices,” Draco said to his teammates, who had been instructed to assemble on the field by their captain after Hermione’s panic attack.
“You not going to play no more?” Crabbe asked.
“I don’t think I will be able to,” he replied miserably, giving the Love-Knot a momentary glimpse. He threw Hermione a dirty look, but she did not catch it, as she was too engrossed in calming herself down. “I don’t think I’ll be able to do anything anymore.”
With that, he made his way to the spectators’ bench. He would have to resort to watching his team practice from the Slytherin stand.
Dropping his broom down next to him, Draco sat down on a bench in the front row of the stand. He leaned forward and rested his arms on his thighs, letting out a deep sigh as he watched the Slytherins train.
“Come on, Green!” he shouted to his Keeper across the pitch. “Guard the posts properly! Stop letting the Quaffle in!”
Hermione, who was finally starting to breath normally again, cast Draco a sidelong glance. Her heart dropped when she saw the disappointed and dismayed look on his face. She mentally kicked herself for being such a coward when it came to flying.
“Malfoy, I'm sorry about””
Draco held his hand up, bringing Hermione’s apology to a standstill. “Save it, Granger.”
Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Maybe I could give it another try. I promise I won’t scream this time. I’ll””
“I said, save it, Granger,” Draco repeated, clenching his jaw and trying his best not to look at her. He was afraid that he might explode at her if he did.
That night, after training and a quick dinner, Draco preoccupied himself with homework. Hermione didn’t mind; she had her own homework to do anyway. But she did still feel very bad about ruining his Quidditch practice.
Once again, like the night before, absolute silence presided in the common room, save the scratching of quills, the ruffle of parchment or the occasional flipping of pages.
“I don’t believe it, Salazar,” Godric Gryffindor whispered. “Two nights in a row! No noise, no arguing, nothing!”
“We get lucky sometimes, don’t we?” Salazar Slytherin whispered back with a smug grin.
“We certainly do!” the Gryffindor founder responded cheerfully. Then he grew serious. “What do you reckon happened between them?”
Salazar Slytherin shrugged. “I haven’t got a clue. But knowing teenagers, they probably quarreled over something trivial, which may have seemed like a life and death situation to them.”
Close to midnight, Draco slammed his Arithmancy textbook shut. He was exhausted and body was aching for a good sleep. “I want to sleep now and we’re going to sleep in my room, on my bed.” It was an order, not a statement.
Hermione thought she heard wrong. “What did you say?”
“You heard me Granger. And I'm not in the mood to argue,” Draco said, packing up his books. “You can even sleep on the bed next to me. It doesn’t make a difference.”
“Malfoy, have you gone out of your mind?” Hermione asked. “I'm not sleeping in your room, much less on your bed!”
“What else do you want from me, Granger?!” Draco said so loudly that Hermione jumped in her seat from his sudden outburst. “I'm stuck with you. I've got no privacy whatsoever. I can’t even play Quidditch anymore, dammit! What next?!”
Hermione stared at Draco, momentarily speechless. “Don’t you realize that the same thing is happening to me, Malfoy?” she managed when she had found her voice. “Didn’t you stop to think I can’t do the things I like most too? I had to make sacrifices just like you’ve had to. Do you think””
“I don’t want to hear it, Granger,” Draco interrupted. “And don’t give that rubbish about sacrifices. I'm so tired of being pushed around, especially by someone like you. Today, it’s my turn to decide. And I have decided that I want to sleep in my own room, whether you like it or not.”
Then, without warning, Draco lifted Hermione out of her chair and started to carry her to his room.
Hermione was left stunned, but when she recovered from her initial shock of Draco picking her up, she let out a yell. “Put me down!” she shrieked, struggling in his arms. “Put me down right now, Malfoy!”
“You asked for it.” And Draco did as was requested of him. He put her down”and she landed with a loud ‘THUD!’ on the hard, wooden floor.
A yelp of pain escaped Hermione’s lips as her bottom made contact with the parquet flooring. “Why did you do that for?!” she demanded, rubbing her sore bottom.
Draco stifled a grin that was threatening to form on his lips. “Well, you did ask me to put you down, didn’t you?” he said, hiding the grin with a smirk.
“I didn’t mean on the floor!” Hermione snapped as she lifted herself up. She winced when a jolt of pain shot up from her tailbone.
“Oh, I didn’t know that,” Draco said, feigning ignorance. “So are you going to sleep in my room or not?”
“Of course not!”
Draco shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said. “I guess I’ll just have to carry you in then.” He made a move forward and Hermione leapt backwards.
“No, no, wait, I think I have an idea,” she said hurriedly. “Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll take turns to sleep in each other’s bedroom, like how we take turns to sit at each other’s house table during mealtimes. One night your room, the next night mine. Fair enough?”
Draco took a minute to think this through. It did seem fair. He was desperately craving the comfort of his own bed and Hermione’s suggestion seemed valid. “All right, sounds fair to me. So tonight, we’ll start with my room.”
Nodding, Hermione followed Draco up the stairs to his room. He opened the door and she entered the room that she was now familiar with (since she had to come here every morning for Draco to use his bathroom).
“You can sleep in the bed next to me,” Draco said nonchalantly. “It’s fine by me.” When he saw Hermione blush slightly, he added, “You don’t have to worry, Granger, I won’t do anything to you in the middle of the night, if that’s what you're thinking.”
Throwing his t-shirt off (at which Hermione promptly turned away and flushed a deep crimson), he climbed into his bed, pulled the covers up to his chest and drifted off.
Hermione stood rooted on the spot, a little unsure of what she was going to do next. Ultimately, she made her way to the empty space beside Draco. Sliding herself under the covers, she willed herself to fall asleep and to not notice that Draco Malfoy was sleeping next to her, shirtless.
Author's Note: Chapter 15, finally! Sorry guys. You had to wait for really long right? Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Oh, and as most of you must have guessed by now, Aviophobia means the fear of flying. Haha...