Not only was this the last day of the summer, but today was the day of the Solonus Isle Amateur Brooms Race.

Draco had barely slept the night before, he was both nervous and excited. If he won, he'd get a great looking trophy, but there was also a 2,000 galleon purse to be won.

Echo had transfigured a set of Draco's robes into something appropriately flashy, yet still dignified looking. His uniform was green and black silk, with an adjustable warming spell added by his godfather. His outer robe had been shortened and was black sporting eye-catching green and silver trim. What Draco really loved was that Echo had added a spectacular silver and green Slytherin Crest upon the back of his robes.

At ten o'clock, Severus and Draco gathered at the Starting Gate with the other contestants. There were almost one hundred witches and wizards participating. All of them wore black numbers against a white field on their chests. Severus affixed Draco's number, 27, to his chest and then checked his broom.

Draco would have been content with his old Quidditch broom, but this morning Severus had presented him with a broom made specifically for broom racers. It was a Comet XII.

"Malfoy, Draco!" someone called and the boy stiffened.

"Here!" replied Severus.

An official with a clipboard strode over, looked Draco over. "Got yourself a Comet XII, I see," the official was suitably impressed.

"A gift from my godfather," Draco said with pride.

The official nodded. "I'm gonna put a Tracking Spell on you, which we do with all the racers." He waved his wand and incanted the spell before standing back. "You're all set, so take your place at the Gate."

"Thanks!" grinned Draco.

The official called out another name and then walked away. Severus caught Draco before he turned away and placed his hands upon the boys shoulders.

"Remember, Draco, this is a race. No Quidditch stunts. I know you want to win this race, and I would be proud of you if you did, but know I am already very proud of you and will remain so if you comport yourself with honor."

Draco impulsively hugged his godfather and was pleased when Severus' arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders.

"Thanks, Uncle Sev. I..."

"Oh Draco! I made it!"

With a shocked look, the young man turned to see a lovely, familiar face. "Hermione!"

Severus didn't smile, but the smug glint in his dark eyes was enough as he watched the young couple embrace and briefly kissed.

"How did you get here?" Draco asked, so very pleased to have his girlfriend here to watch him.

Hermione looked over her boyfriend's shoulder towards the Potions Master.

"Professor Snape owled me a portkey this morning," the young girl grinned. Draco glanced over his shoulder and flashed a smile of thanks to his godfather.

Severus escorted the Gryffindor girl to the stands where Echo and Harry waited for them. As they walked, he surreptitiously appraised the girl... no, the young lady beside him.

Due to her use of a Time Turner in her third year, Hermione was technically almost a year older than Draco. She had gained a few inches in height and stood nearly the same height as her beau. Her hair was fast losing its bushy wildness and was finally settling into pleasing curls that she kept trimmed to just below her shoulders. Severus also noticed that Hermione, who had always walked the halls of Hogwarts somewhat stooped (possibly due to all the books she insisted upon carting everywhere in addition to her required schoolbooks) now walked with an upright carriage. It gave her a confidence he had no doubt appealed greatly to his godson. Draco had never been one to go after a girl who kowtowed to his every whim. He valued intelligence and someone who could stand up to him.

Hermione, conscious of being scrutinised, spoke up, "What are you looking at, Professor?"

"It strikes me that my know-it-all student is being replaced by a young, confidant lady."

"Thank you, sir. I take it, then, that you don't object to mine and Draco's relationship?" she asked carefully.

"None at all, Miss Granger. I believe you to be a good match for my godson and a good influence, as well."

Hermione was glad of her professor's approval, but she sensed there was something he wasn't saying. Her next words proved how astute she was in knowing what to expect. "Mrs. Malfoy isn't going to like me, will she?"

Severus showed no surprise at Hermione's words. The girl was, indeed, smart and had no illusions about the society she'd one day be a part of. Narcissa Malfoy would be Hermione's worst critic. "Narcissa Malfoy will despise you, Miss Granger."

His bluntness, though not unwelcome, still hurt a bit. With a touch to her shoulder, the older wizard stopped the young witch and he looked down into her eyes, very seriously.

"It matters not what the Narcissa Malfoys of our world think of you, Miss Granger. All that matters are Draco's feelings towards you, and yours towards him. Together, you will be a force for change in the wizarding world that long has been needed. Be assured that I shall stand with you."

Hermione smiled, blushed, and her eyes glistened. "I don't suppose it might be possible to hug you, sir?"

He sighed melodramatically and rolled his eyes. "Truly it is a good thing my teaching days are ended for it seems I am grown quite soft." He held open his arms and embraced the Gryffindor, patting her back.

"Thank you, Professor. Thank you so much for being the man I always suspected you were."

He pulled back just in time to catch a glimpse of a very knowing, certainly smug look upon Hermione's face. He nudged her back into walking by his side as he clasped his hands behind his back. "I take it, Miss Granger, that my motives were as transparent as glass to you during school?"

"Not when you were busy scaring the daylights out of me and my friends," she giggled softly. "The thing is, sir, you didn't always cover your tracks very well." He gave her a puzzled look and she explained. "In our first year, you gave Ron a week's detention for smart-mouthing you after our third month?" He nodded as he recalled the incident. Of all the Weasleys he'd taught, Ronald Weasley was the most hot tempered of all.

"Well," she went on. "There were two nights you had him brewing a Nutrition Potion. A Nutrition Potion has to be brewed to the specifications of a particular person. You can't just let anyone take it and expect good results. Harry, who hadn't been feeling well all that time, and was having a tough time eating, had a complete turnaround a few days later."

"You had to take rather a large jump to come to that conclusion, Miss Granger. I'm not convinced," he smirked.

"All right. I do admit I concluded that after a few other things I discovered. Like the Warming Spells you did on Harry, and Neville, and on your two Slytherins, Harvey Tine, and Mellie Wislington during classes."

"There is no possible way you saw me cast those!" he declared. Really, he thought. He had cast those spells both silent and without his wand.

Now it was Hermione's turn to give the Potions Master a smug grin. "I can detect magic when it's used, sir. I was rather clumsy in my first year because I couldn't tell the difference between who was casting good or bad magic, but I learned. It's why you wound up with a hot foot at the Quidditch game in our first year."

It took Severus a moment to figure out what the Gryffindor was referring to, and confessing to. The game where Potter's broom had turned on him. He had been chanting a counter spell when he had felt the heat of a tiny flame catching his robe hem on fire. His eyebrows rose in surprise. "Aha! So that was you!" Hermione cringed slightly. "I suppose it was also you that sent the anonymous gift of a new teaching robe to me a week later?"

"Professor McGonagall helped me to get the right size and swore she'd never tell you. I am sorry about that, sir."

He smirked, then. "You're an unusual Gryffindor, Miss Granger. One might even say you display a rather distinct Slytherin style. Commendable."

Hermione was astonished, yet at the same time pleased by the compliment. Since becoming a father, her teacher, who had aggravated her, ignored her, sometimes belittled her and her friends as was required by his being a spy, had mellowed, considerably. She liked this Severus Snape.

The race course was defined by floating flags of red and white that the racers were to conform to. The course circled the village, dipped out over the mountains to the west, and then returned to the village. There would be ten laps with two maintenance pit stops allowed per racer, if there was a problem. Each racer wore goggles to protect their eyes, and a vest carried charmed water bottles that automatically refilled with fresh water. The air tended to quickly dry out a racer.

In the stands, Echo, Severus, Harry, and Hermione all had pairs of Omnioculars that could easily be trained on any racer at any point during the race.

After a thankfully short welcome speech from the Solonus Isle mayor, a rotund fellow whose cheeks were a bit too cherry red, the race commenced.

Nearly one hundred colourful broom racers burst from the gate and flooded the sky with determination and speed. Draco was dreadfully behind, but Severus, as he looked through his Omnioculars, was pleased to see that his godson was making steady progress.

Before the first lap was finished, the first collision occurred between two racers. One racer had been speedily dodging others on the course when he tried to skirt around a witch that flew ahead of him. Aggressively moving past, she, in turn, was equally aggressive and meant to only nudge him as she flew past. The witch miscalculated and the two competitive racers collided sharply. As they fell from the sky, they were both caught by race officials that cast a Levitating Charm to lower the two racers back to earth.

The accident had caused a general slowing amongst all the racers, except Draco. It was a phenomenon he was familiar with in Quidditch. Anytime a player was injured, everyone else tended to be more careful, deliberate in their play for at least several minutes. It was time that Draco had learned to use to his advantage as a Seeker. The games he'd won for Slytherin, both in official cup games and practice, had been due to this practice of his.

In the race, he didn't hesitate and speeded up. For his efforts he jumped from the 27th place to 14th and was soon marking his first lap. He grinned and flew with a flourish.

From the stands, Severus had caught the little movement and he scowled. "Now is not the time to get cocky, boy," he muttered. Certainly Draco couldn't hear him, but a look of studious determination replaced the grin, and the young man hunkered down providing a more streamlined silhouette for his flying.

At the third lap, Draco had to dodge an errant bird, of all things and he very nearly knocked himself and two other racers right out of the race. All three racers spun, wildly causing the other participants to veer to either side to avoid them. The witch kept falling. She didn't have the skill to pull out of the dive she'd been forced into. She was caught by a Levitating spell and she was out. The other racer took a bit longer to recover, but he did so and swept onward.

Draco, having been caught before in such spins during Quidditch, had always found that forcing himself into a dive, and then cutting directly upwards set him to rights. It was a famous Quidditch move, that had taken the lives of lesser skilled players.

Hermione nearly fainted, leaning heavily against Echo as she first watched Draco spin, then dive perilously close to the ground and then swoop upwards and back on course. Severus merely dropped his Omnioculars, and collapsed heavily onto his bench as he tried to get his heart to start beating again.

"I will haul that blasted boy over my knee," he bit out sharply as he drew in a deep breath. "So help me, if I have one grey hair after this, he won't be sitting for two weeks."

Harry gulped. He was glad his father wasn't threatening him with such a spanking. Looking back through his Omnioculars, he grinned as Draco completed his fourth lap.

The next four laps took down more racers either from minor accidents or just plain fatigue. By the ninth lap, the participants to truly watch numbered only 26 and Draco was one of them. He was now in fourth place with a very good chance of winning.

Draco's opponents in the top three places were three very aggressive and skilled racers. He didn't know, but all three, a witch and two wizards, had been racing for years. None of them had played Quidditch, and the witch was one to even shun the sport as being 'clumsy and ill-mannered, without the grace of racing'.

Draco could admit without embarrassment that his skill in broom racing was slim. He was fast and had acquired his impressive mobility through hours of chasing after a Golden Snitch. All of that had come into play during this race and even if, by some slim chance he didn't win, he knew he'd be back next year. He had discovered that what he probably most enjoyed about being a Seeker, was the speed. In this race, he might as well be going after a dozen Snitches, he found racing that fun.

Halfway through the ninth lap, one of the wizards made a mistake: cockiness. The wizard had been gloating, of all things, and before he knew it he'd flown right into one of the course flags. It had been so sudden, he very nearly plummeted to his death. Thankfully, two officials caught the falling wizard and brought him down to the ground where he spent at least ten minutes shouting and ranting at everyone within earshot.

Draco moved up to third place with the loss of the wizard. He narrowed his concentration and by the time he completed the ninth lap he was tied for second place.

A miracle, or rather another wayward bird, dealt suddenly with the wizard in first place. Bird and wizard tumbled gracelessly through the air and both were caught by Levitation Spells.

Now Draco was tied for first place with the witch. He felt her grin aimed towards him, but he knew better than to return it. It was moves like that which had caused him to make mistakes during Quidditch. Mistakes that caused him to lose the cup for Slytherin his first year of playing.

The blonde-haired wizard kept his eyes forward and his mind on the course. Draco no longer heard the crowds cheering below and he was only peripherally aware of the those still in the race hoping for third, fourth, or even fifth place.

Ahead of him was the Finish Line. He crossed it and was dazed as he slowed his broom down by flying in lazy circles over the people below. It took several minutes before he realised everyone was chanting his name. He smiled as he drifted downwards. Then he saw his godfather waving and running to meet him at the winner's circle. Hermione was jumping, shouting, and waving.

She's beautiful, his mind flashed as he landed.

Harry reached Draco first. The little boy yelled joyously as he latched himself onto his big brother. Someone he didn't know shook his hand and he blinked away stars as flashbulbs burst in his face, dazzling his eyes. Someone else... the witch he'd been tied with, he thought... gripped his hand and shook his arm so hard it twinged his shoulder.

"You did very well, Draco."

That voice he recognised. It was the only one that mattered. Turning away from someone else saying something to him, he turned to his godfather with the biggest smile he had ever produced.

"I won, Uncle Sev! I won!"

A few weeks later, with the 2,000 galleons, the Malfoy Scholarship for Witches & Wizards was set up with Severus Snape's help at Hogwarts. The scholarship would pay the tuition fees and for supplies for any qualifying student's first two years at Hogwarts. The qualifications were only that a student needed the financial help and would receive it. Two fortunate witches and wizards would be chosen each year. Once the initial galleons ran out, Draco would continue to fund the scholarship in perpetuity from the recovered Malfoy estate.