Draco Malfoy and the Gryffindor Chaser

Chapter Ten: Mudblood and Murmurs

You breathed the cold air to calm your nerves as you heard someone approach you from behind.

You turned.

Draco stopped in front of you, passing a hand on his hair. You heart tightened, so you said, to attract your attention somewhere else: "You know, waxing your hair is not very useful with the wind we'll get in our faces during the match."

It was the first time you saw him after the detention you got together several days ago. He shrugged and said: "Thank you for not telling Filch it's me who broke the vase while I was cleaning it the other day. You didn't have to."

"Well, spending the evening with Filch is hard enough." You lowered your gaze on his chest and frowned; a brown spot dirtied the white part of his cape. He followed your eyes and said: "This stupid Goyle spitted his hot chocolate on me this morning."

You cocked an eyebrow. He stuttered: "I meant, Goyle spitted his hot chocolate."

You turned your head left and right. "Where is he by the way? You're always with your bodyguards." You saw he didn't know what to do and you tapped on his shoulder: "Don't I fright you enough?"

Both of you suddenly turned your heads as he passed next to you, waking fast. Goyle was coming from the pit and quickly escaped towards stairs that led to the stands, throwing you an anguished look. You didn't pay attention to it more than that and turned back to Draco. He breathed: "I wanted to ask you something."

You hummed.

"What about we hang out one day at Hogsmeade?"

You felt like he used all his energy to ask you that.

You grinned. "Sure." On the background, you heard a deep voice talk loudly, but didn't move. You noticed the gap between both of you had shrunk, and the smell of the chocolate spot tickled your nose. Time seemed to stop, but it was short; you heard Wood scream everyone's name inside the tent, certainly to give the pep talk.

Both of you got back, like surprised you had come that close.

"Good game."

He nodded.

You left each other.

You sat straight in your bed, not paying attention to this strange dream and you stirred.

You eyed the dormitory; all beds were empty, and you reckoned it was Sunday.

Two days had passed since the match; you had spent the whole Saturday with Ron, Harry and Hermione elaborating scenarios about who could possibly want you out of the team. By the afternoon, you had been joined by the twins and Neville, seeming interested by your conversations.

"Malfoy."

You sighed: "Harry, no. He wouldn't have prevented me to crash if he had enchanted by broom." Ron nudged at his friend: "Just accept it, mate."

"Okay, right. But it's certainly a Slytherin."

Neville gasped suddenly: "What if it's the person who offered you the broom? He could have enchanted it to crash you during the match."

A wave of realisation crossed the little group, but Hermione breathed: "Can't be."

You all looked at her.

"I thought it was weird no one gave you a signed card with it, so when you came back here the other day, I checked if it was enchanted. And it wasn't."

Everyone breathed and she added: "Which means someone casted a spell during the match."

The Weasley twins, astonishingly silent, jumped together as the same idea seemed to cross their mind. Fred excitedly said: "I know. Tomorrow, we'll trap Slytherin's Quidditch team at Hogsmeade..."