shot over the Forest? I can tell you what I was thinking; that whatever nastiness Voldemort's been planning, that it finally came. This year will be the first year since we started at Hogwarts that Harry hasn't had to...well, you know."
"Battle the forces of wizarding evil?" Hermione deadpanned.
"Yeah."
"That's a good thing, Ron." She watched him pour more syrup over the pancake fort that was his breakfast.
"Boring and uneventful happens to be just how I like it. It means I don't have to worry about you lot. Harry deserves a bit of peace and quiet and I'm certain Dumbledore wouldn't begrudge him that."
"In any case, I reckon today's going to be interesting," Ron commented now, looking over Hermione's shoulder.
"Why do you say that?"
He nodded towards the Slytherin table. "Have a look for yourself. Malfoy's coming over."
So he was. He was walking towards them, towards her, in full view of everyone. What was he playing at? She might have turned her undivided attention to her breakfast, only she had given it to Ginny.
"Hullo," said Draco, in a genial, pleasant manner which made Hermione immediately suspicious. He stood behind her, his attention fixed on Harry. "Potter, I was wondering if I might have a word."
Something was definitely up. It was then that Hermione noticed the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain, Lisa Turpin and Hufflepuff Captain, Zacharias Smith, at the entrance of the Hall. Both were looking expectantly in Harry's direction. Both were looking excited.
Draco sat down. Harry obviously thought this a very odd thing for Draco to do. His hand froze in the task of brining a spoonful of his breakfast to his mouth.
"It is customary in these situations," Draco explained, drumming his fingers on his forearms, "to either say yes, what is it Malfoy, or tell me to bugger off."
"Fugger boff, Malfoy," Harry obliged, his mouth full of pancake.
Undeterred, Draco gave Hermione a brief, sideways glance while ostensibly waiting for Harry to finish his mouthful of food. "Granger you're looking especially feral this morning. Hairbrush on strike again?"
"Is it too early in the day to hex someone, do you think?" Ginny interrupted, to no one in particular. She had paused in the act of stirring her coffee to roll her wand in her hands.
"Ah, Little Weasley," Draco leered at her. "You on the other hand, are looking rather fit. I must say my team has been enjoying your morning jogs around the pitch. It's the only reason the lazy sods are willing to get up at seven am on a weekend, you know."
Ron went predictably red in the face. This was exactly the sort of perverted scum-like behaviour he often warned Ginny about. "Malfoy, stop staring at my sister and I'll smash your face in."
"You mean before you smash my face in," Draco corrected helpfully.
"Nuh, I meant exactly what I said," Ron offered.
Hermione rolled her eyes. As was usually the case with Malfoy, things were getting out of hand. Other students were already staring. "Ron, shut up. Malfoy, if you have something to say to Harry, spit it out. And in answer to your question Ginny, no, I don't believe it is ever too early in the day to hex someone if they soundly deserve it."
Draco gave them all a bland smile. "I'm here to ask Potter if he and his team of Quidditch berks would be interested in participating in a friendly match."
"Against whom?" Harry asked, curious enough to ignore the berk comment. "The season is over."
"The visiting Aurors," Draco replied, looking genuinely pleased at the prospect. The rest of the table that was within eavesdropping distance immediately erupted into excited whispers. "Turpin and Smith were told this morning. Hooch says we can get a casual game organised for Wednesday afternoon if all the captains agree by today." Draco examined the slightly syrup-sticky state of the table with a slight grimace and promptly peeled his elbows from its surface. "Apparently, these last few days of school have become so depressing that the faculty have decided that students require a bit of light entertainment..."
"No arguments there," Neville chipped in.
Draco casually glanced down the table to where Neville sat, staring at him as if he were a new Flobberworm that had just only appeared out of the muck of Flobberworms that was the rest of Gryffindor table.
"We're meeting in Hooch's office after breakfast," Draco told Harry. "Bring names."
He got up to leave, making a show of dusting the front of his robes off, but not before he deposited something small, round