Post by Elienp on Nov 20, 2011 0:30:31 GMT -8
Title: Whim of the heart
Rating: T
Warning: None
Words: 295
Summary: Hermione hoped her whim wouldn't allow him to understand.
Her head was down, and would remain thus as long as Draco would be flying right in front of her. She wouldn't take the risk to raise it, to meet his eyes. Even if he was focused on the game – at least it was what she thought when seeing such a determined expression on his face, she knew he'd instantaneously understand.
Her feelings had to remain secret. She couldn't, wouldn't, tell anybody. Her pride, her sense, her fear she might be rejected after such a confession, were all restraining her from looking away from her knees.
She certainly looked ridiculous right now, with her lowered head when everybody else was focused on the Quidditch match going on.
She shouldn't have yielded to her whim. To observe him in her shelter, the library, where she could hide behind books, should have satisfied her enough.
However, the urge to watch him had been too strong. The passion in his voice when he talked about Quidditch had made her want to see him play.
But Hermione Granger wasn't usually present in the pitch, much less when Gryffindor wasn't Slytherin's adversary.
Her cheeks reddened more. She had been such a fool to come! What excuse did she have to be there? None. If she raised her head, met his eyes, if he saw her red cheeks, the feelings in her eyes, she'd be done for.
He'd understand.
Cheers coming from the Slytherin's side broke her determination. Were they for him? Her head jerked up, her breath caught up in her throat.
Of course, they were for him. Draco was skilfully flying, the golden snitch in his right hand, gorgeous... and looking straight at her.
She swallowed hard, he winked at her.
Done for, she was definitely done for.
Rating: T
Warning: None
Words: 295
Summary: Hermione hoped her whim wouldn't allow him to understand.
Her head was down, and would remain thus as long as Draco would be flying right in front of her. She wouldn't take the risk to raise it, to meet his eyes. Even if he was focused on the game – at least it was what she thought when seeing such a determined expression on his face, she knew he'd instantaneously understand.
Her feelings had to remain secret. She couldn't, wouldn't, tell anybody. Her pride, her sense, her fear she might be rejected after such a confession, were all restraining her from looking away from her knees.
She certainly looked ridiculous right now, with her lowered head when everybody else was focused on the Quidditch match going on.
She shouldn't have yielded to her whim. To observe him in her shelter, the library, where she could hide behind books, should have satisfied her enough.
However, the urge to watch him had been too strong. The passion in his voice when he talked about Quidditch had made her want to see him play.
But Hermione Granger wasn't usually present in the pitch, much less when Gryffindor wasn't Slytherin's adversary.
Her cheeks reddened more. She had been such a fool to come! What excuse did she have to be there? None. If she raised her head, met his eyes, if he saw her red cheeks, the feelings in her eyes, she'd be done for.
He'd understand.
Cheers coming from the Slytherin's side broke her determination. Were they for him? Her head jerked up, her breath caught up in her throat.
Of course, they were for him. Draco was skilfully flying, the golden snitch in his right hand, gorgeous... and looking straight at her.
She swallowed hard, he winked at her.
Done for, she was definitely done for.
