Summary: To lighten the moods of the Hogwarts students, Dumbledore decides to throw a Halloween Ball. Hermione has everything ready, except for one minor detail. Harry's got everything ready too, except one small thing is in his way. On the night of tricks and treats, will the two friends find what they're missing?
A/N: I'm busy writing another story but I felt an urge to write a short one. Thanks to Dani and Meghan for the inspiration. Oh, and Shits and Giggles for giving me a Halloween theme base. N E wayz. here it goes.
Tricks and Treats
Hermione walked onto the quidditch field with a certain confidence she didn't know she had until weeks earlier. It was a chilly October morning. The sun was barely visible of the horizon to the east. Gryffindor was to have their first quidditch match against Ravenclaw in a few hours. Hermione had tried out for the team because she had nothing better to do on a Saturday morning in mid September. To her surprise, her best friend Harry Potter, star Seeker and newly elected quidditch captain, had chosen her as the new Keeper.
"Why?" Hermione asked herself as she stood out in the middle of the field.
"Because you were the best," a voice answered from behind.
Hermione turned around to see her best friend standing a few yards away. She smiled and he grinned in return.
"I swear Harry," Hermione said as he slowly walked towards her, "sometimes it seems as though you can read my mind."
"And what if I can?" he teased.
"Just don't. The mind of a fifteen year old girl is bound to frighten you at some time or another."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"Good," Hermione stated, feeling as though she won that tiny battle. "Anyway, the real problem is how badly we'll lose to Ravenclaw today."
"And who says we'll lose?" Harry asked, heading towards the locker room, Hermione at his side.
"Harry, I'm the Keeper!" Hermione practically shouted at him.
"What's your point?"
"I'm not that good, honest," Hermione muttered, staring at her feet.
"Look Herm," Harry stopped and turned to face his friend, "when I saw you fly at those try outs, I saw something I had never seen before. You might have been nervous at first but I watched your face. You loved being in the air, soaring above the world. And not only that, you were actually good at those goal posts. Better than Ron or Seamus or all the other people that thought they could easily beat the little bookworm. I have faith in you. I know you can prove them wrong and the rest of the world. I know you can."
"You think so?" Hermione asked shakily.
"No," Harry whispered, standing so close to Hermione that she could feel his breath upon her face, "I know so."
"To the team!"
Gryffindor had slaughtered Ravenclaw that morning, 200-0. The team and a group of other Gryffindors were huddled around a table at the Three Broomsticks, toasting with butterbeer.
"No, no, no," Harry said, interrupting the chatter, "to Hermione, the quickest, bravest, and cleverest Keeper Gryffindor has seen in a long time."
Hermione blushed as her friends and teammates toasted to her well played game. She came out of it with a few bruises but they were worth it. Hermione caught Harry's eye and mouthed "thank you" to him. In return he smiled and winked. Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat. She had never felt that way before and knew something was wrong. After all, it was just Harry. Just Harry. Absent-mindedly she let out a heavy sigh.
"What's wrong Herm?" Harry asked, a look of concern taking over his merry face.
"What?" Hermione said immediately, realizing that the sigh was heavier than it should have been. "Oh, umm, nothing. Just a tad bit tired. It was a long game. I think I'll go back to the dormitories."
"I'll go with you," Harry said, standing up as Hermione did.
"No! I mean um, you don't have to. I can, uh, find it on my own. Yea, I'm fine."
"Okay," Harry replied, "see ya later then."
"Yea, later," Hermione said quickly, turning around to leave.
"Great game Herm!"
"Good job Herm!"
"Thanks," she said over her shoulder. Once she stepped outside she bolted for the closest carriage out of Hogsmede, mentally cursing herself along the way.