The Mudblood

Chapter 35 : Year 3

Crabbe shuffled awkwardly with her comment while I just rolled my eyes.

"I think you've been spending too much time with Astoria," I griped, pulling on her arm. "C'mon, let's practice."

"I've heard your training to take my place as Seeker, Pucey," Malfoy snapped before we could mount our brooms. "I'll have you know that I've refined my skills to the point that even pathetic Potter won't beat me."

"Oh—I don't want to be Seeker—although I probably could," Ashley said as she jumped onto her broom. "I want to be Chaser—like Adrian. I want to beat his ass to the pulp and take his place on the team."

Malfoy's nostrils flared ragefully. "So I've been training all summer for nothing? Mudblood!" he roared, turning his attention toward me. I'd already gotten onto the broom he'd given me, and I was ready for a quick escape.

I snorted, gazing down at him as I slowly ascended into the air. "It's not for nothing, Malfoy. Maybe we'll actually win a match against Gryffindor next year—if you keep practicing."

"You lying—dirty-blooded—"

"I can't hear your insolent whining Malfoy," I called down to him. "I'm...above that sort of thing."

Crabbe actually grunted a laugh, causing Malfoy to instinctually whack his arm.

"Idiot! Don't give her that satisfaction—"

"Are you two boys ready to watch girls play some real Quidditch?" I hollered down to them. I glanced over at Ashley, who—for the first time—had a menacing expression on her face.  

Heated, Malfoy mounted his broom, Crabbe following swiftly behind. I could tell by the determination on Malfoy's face that he was going to come up after me, so I quickly zoomed away. The broom Malfoy had given me was not very fast, so he quickly caught up, grabbing viciously on the bristled end.

"I'll knock you off you broom, Mudblood!"

"Oh—and will you catch me as well?" I bantered, glancing back at him. To my surprise, he didn't look so angry anymore; a sly grin had now spread across his lips.

"Do you want me to catch you, Fitzroy?" he inquired arrogantly, one hand still clutched around the end of my boom.

My face fell with his words, and I fumbled for an answer. "Uh—well—what?"

Unable to get away from Malfoy's grasp, the two of us were merely hovering in midair, giving Fred and George Weasley the opportunity to fly up next to Malfoy in an intimidating manner.  

"Bothering Fitz, are you, Malfoy?" Fred questioned.

"I do think we could do something about that, don't you, Freddy?" George said, waving his Beater's club in the air.

Malfoy immediately let go of my broom and I went slingshotting through the air. Once I'd gained control of my whacked up broom, I looked to my sides to see that the Weasley twins were now surrounding me.

"Thanks—guys," I panted. "What are you all doing out here anyway?"

"We're preparing for a Quidditch scrimmage," George told me.

"Just for fun, no House separation," Fred added. "We know you're a Keeper, but we do need three Chasers—"

"And a Seeker—"

"Harry's busy helping Hermione with her house elf obsession."

I let out a laugh, glancing down at the other end of the stadium. I recognized Cedric—unfortunately—along with some of his Hufflepuff friends. To my surprise, Adrian Pucey and Carl Vaisey were also playing with them and their Keeper seemed to be...ah—that prick, Kent Higgins—the one that had refused to date Astoria.