Draco's POV
I finished talking to the young Slytherin seeker, who eagerly turned to his team and started whispering. I watched them with some amusement, remembering how zealous I had been when I was their age.
The two team captains met. After some quiet conversation, with a few nods, they turned to Potter and me with hopeful expressions.
The Slytherin captain started with an air of authority. "Being candidates, you are forbidden to play a real quidditch game. But we cannot deny you both are such exceptional players. Hence, both captains have decided to hold a practice match between the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams, hosting you two as our seekers if you agree. Obviously, this match is intended to have an educational approach, to showcase an example for all the teams' seekers."
The Slytherin smirked a very sly smile. "Also, it wouldn't hurt to have some competition, right?"
I glanced towards Potter, who had his lips pressed together. "Well... I-" he started.
But the Gryffindor captain interrupted, "Please, Mr Potter... and Mr Malfoy. We understand this request may bother you, but we'd be honoured if we could witness you two in a match again. And as mentioned, it is only for educational purposes. Just for our team seekers to have some hands-on game watching before they take the pitch."
Potter seemed mollified when he said this and nodded slowly, "Alright..."
"The match will have no effect on the position of our team on the ladder because it's not part of the competition." The Gryffindor continued, "It's just a practice for the two teams, excluding the seekers because you two will be replacing them. We believe the seekers will gain a lot once they see both of your remarkable talents."
This was so obviously a bluff that I had to restrain myself from rolling my eyes. These kids obviously had seen a match before. I could tell from the way they practised and spoke about quidditch. They had experience and would do quite well during their game without the assistance of a match.
I suppose they just wanted a show:
Gryffindor versus Slytherin.
A War Hero versus a Death Eater.
Good versus Evil.
But Potter seemed to be actually considering this, and I could tell from his expression that he had absolutely bought all the bullshit the team captains were saying.
"Well," Potter mused, his brow furrowing, "I guess one game wouldn't hurt."
Smiles spread on the captains' faces.
The Slytherin replied, "Excellent! I think we can play the game today, then. It's the weekend, so I suppose the school can watch as well."
I opened my mouth to interject, but then it struck me...
Revenge. It's the perfect opportunity.
The whole bloody school would be watching Harry Potter playing Seeker for Gryffindor. That would be my chance to get back at him for invading my personal space.
I could finally humiliate Potter in a way nobody had ever done.
But something tugged at the back of my mind. A nervous jolt ran through me. Was revenge really necessary? The fact seemed that Potter had looked so stricken when he had realised that I knew he had read my letter. I was so overcome with anger that the little detail had gone astray at the moment. But now that I thought of it...
It seemed odd for someone to look that way when they obviously read the letter to humiliate me. Possibly spread rumours and gossip about how Draco Malfoy hated himself and was terrified of being blamed. It was odd, but then...
Potter did blame me.
The Captains had walked off, apparently to announce the practice match.
I glanced at Potter, who stood motionless.
"See you at the pitch, Potter," I drawled in my snarkiest tone.
He grimaced. "Can't wait, Malfoy."
He still has that stupid valour.
"Get ready to be defeated once and for all," I smirked, expression unfaltering.
This made Potter snort. "In your dreams, Malfoy," he replied.
I watched him turn away, the sunlight filtering through his messy black hair, making it appear even more tangled, a soft golden hue bleeding out of a few wisps of hair.
The moment Potter walked away from me, his hair— a dark, messy halo— I couldn't deny that deep down, the thing that I planned to do was something wrong, something very, very wrong...
But it was too late to stop now.
"ATTENTION!!!" A loud voice boomed over the school. I immediately recognised it to be the Gryffindor captain's voice. "A PRACTICE QUIDDITCH MATCH WILL BE COMMENCED BETWEEN SLYTHERIN AND GRYFFINDOR IN TWENTY MINUTES ON THE QUIDDITCH PITCH. THIS MATCH WILL BE STARRING HARRY POTTER AND DRACO MALFOY, PLAYING AS THE SEEKERS FOR THE GRYFFINDOR AND SLYTHERIN TEAMS, RESPECTIVELY! DO NOT MISS OUT! QUICKLY COME TO THE QUIDDITCH PITCH TO WITNESS THIS GAME ONCE AND FOR ALL!"
I knew it. They were using us for their own benefit. And that tosser was eating it right up.
I made my way towards the quidditch changing room. As I entered, I was handed a Slytherin uniform to wear. I nodded, thanked them, and headed to a little corner to change in, glancing around the room and noting my team members. It wasn't a bad team. There were a couple of scrawny players. The beaters seemed to have some muscle mass, though, so it was good. And two of the three chasers seemed really good. The keeper was decent from what I had seen. And well, I would be playing seeker. We had a good chance at winning, from what I could see.
The Gryffindor team were changing as well, so I sized their team up too. They seemed to be quite good. My eyes trailed along the keeper, the chasers, the beaters, and then... to Potter.
Who was looking back...
His glasses weren't on, making his eyes pop, even from this much distance. His thin face with a button nose and a shock of black hair. His eyes flitted over my face, expression blank, but somehow holding something meaningful that made a shiver run through me.
I jumped, giving myself a little shake as I avoided his eyes, picking up my broom and exiting the changing room.
I am not going to feel bad...
You can't feel bad for Potter.
"THE MATCH COMMENCES IN FIVE MINUTES!!"
This time, an unrecognisable female voice blared through the commentary box.
"TEAMS MAY START TO TAKE THEIR PLACES ON THE PITCH!"
I clutched the handle of my broom firmly, my quidditch gloves just a little too tight.
The rest of the team followed behind me. My heart started to hum as the familiar feeling of playing a quidditch match took over. A seventh year was umpiring the game, as none of the teachers was present to monitor this game.
Potter was here with his team as well. As the teams proceeded to the pitch, I turned to him with a smirk.
To my surprise, Potter wasn't wearing his glasses.
Is he an idiot?
"Forgot your glasses, Potter?" I loudly drawled. "Confident that you will catch the Snitch when you're half blind?"
Potter shook his head, a smile spreading on his face. "Come off it, Malfoy. I'm wearing contact lenses."
"Contact — contact lenses?" The words tumbled out without any dignity.
"Yeah. Muggles use them to avoid glasses. After some —let's say— hands-on experience, I figured that having contact lenses makes it so much easier to play quidditch. I don't have to worry about my glasses slipping." Potter chuckled.
Why was he being so friendly again?
"But where exactly are these contact lenses?" I asked. "I can't see anything in your eyes."
This time, Potter rolled his eyes like I was the one being an idiot. That made me a bit defensive.
"They are called contact lenses for a reason, Malfoy," Potter snickered. "They go on the iris of my eyes."
That sounded absolutely revolting.
Potter seemed to have seen the disgusted look on my face, since he let out an exasperated noise and moved towards me, stopping about a foot away.
"Look," he said, leaning in, opening his eyes wide. "If you look close enough, you can see the lens."
I tried to maintain my disgusted expression as I peered into his eyes.
Merlin... his eyes were really green...
But he was right. I could see the faint outline of a lens. In the sunlight, Potter's eyes looked even brighter, with golden flecks dancing around the green.
"Whatever." I sniffed, not understanding my weird admiration for the colour of Potter's eyes. I walked away.
"Captains, shake hands, please," the seventh year said, watching as the two boys exchanged a curt handshake.
"Alright." She placed the whistle in her mouth, pulled the golden snitch, the Quaffle and the two Bludgers out and released them.
"GO!"
The sharp shrill of the whistle rang throughout the pitch, and everyone rose in unison, kicking off hard from the ground.
Gryffindor seized the Quaffle as the Slytherin beater cursed loudly, swinging his bat against the ball and sending it rocketing towards the chaser. The crowd cheered enthusiastically.
Red and green sprinkled the entire stadium. I noticed the majority was red, hollering and screaming for Gryffindor.
Such prejudice, honestly.
I scanned the pitch until my eyes locked into Potter's. It was unfair that he was the hero of all this. Almost everyone here was present to see Harry Potter absolutely destroy Slytherin.
"Potter!" I yelled over the pitch.
Potter frowned lightly and mouthed back, "What?"
As I flew over to him, the confusion became more prominent in his features. I stopped right before him, the wind biting at my cheeks. The tip of my nose was pink because of it. I smirked, glancing around the whole pitch dramatically before returning my attention to him.
"Almost the entire school is present to see me beat you," I jeered. Even though I knew, over the crowd, nobody would be able to hear me. I lowered my voice, putting on my most menacing tone.
"It must be hard, you know, knowing that you're about to be outplayed."
Potter just looked at me, shaking his head. "Keep wishing Malfoy," he grinned suddenly.
"I clearly remember beating you every time we've played," he added.
It was so different seeing him without glasses. It was like talking to someone completely new person, though it wasn't because I could still see his stupid scar.
"Only by sheer luck." My answer was laced with irritation.
Potter let out an amused chuckle. "Your retorts have considerably weakened Malfoy." He let out a long, pronounced yawn. "It's quite predictable now. I think you might need to step up your game."
The audacity!
"Oh, you'll see how I step my game up," I replied, injecting as much coldness into those syllables as possible.
"We'll see," Potter responded, seemingly unable to stop smiling.
I turned my gaze away, my eyes roaming the pitch. Potter copied me. We both drifted away in silence. There were a couple of minutes of just rotating around the pitch as the crowd roared while the chasers scored. And then I saw the snitch.
But so did Potter.
He was zooming towards it at breakneck speed. The crowd made loud sounds of oohs and ahs as I took off after Potter, quickly catching up to him.
Potter's face was set with determination, the wind pushing his hair back, body almost flat against the broom.
I urged my broom faster, legs tightening around the stick as I let my hands-free, using momentum to rocket closer to Potter.
The snitch was only a few meters away, and if I didn't stop Potter, the snitch would be his.
"HARRY POTTER IS ABOUT TO CATCH THE SNITCH-"
No, he won't. My hands flew forward to grab onto the back of his shirt. I caught hold of the sleek fabric and tugged hard.
Potter slowed, my fingers grazing his back as I clutched the material tightly. He turned his head to look at me, angry and annoyed.
"Let go of me, Malfoy!" he seethed, trying to zoom faster to escape my grip on his shirt.
"No," I grunted from the sheer effort of holding onto him. My other hand clutched my broom, trying to maintain balance, while my other hand pulled him back, my muscles straining painfully.
Then Potter stopped moving entirely as the momentum was too much. I slammed into him, hand crushing painfully into his back. The entire force of it made us jolt, almost making me topple over my broom.
But before I could even straighten myself up, Potter streaked away, leaving my hand wildly, trying to catch hold of him. The snitch had moved away but was still in sight. The crowd's screeches were going deaf to my ears. The only thing I focused on was Potter and stopping him from getting that snitch. My wrist hurt. It had bent at a strange angle when I slammed into Potter. But I ignored the dull ache and zoomed after him.
The game had dissolved into a hum. I threw myself flat onto my broom, tailing behind Potter's thin red form. As the snitch grew nearer, I realised there was no way I could overtake Potter now. I furrowed my brow, blinking fast as I tried to clear the distance between us before Potter could grab the snitch.
Before Potter could grasp that shiny little snitch, his arm outstretched, fingers splayed. I lifted my leg and slammed it against the back of his broom. My foot made contact with the broom with a sickening crunch. And Potter's broom veered to the right, succumbing to the indignant cries of the crowd. I just managed to hold onto my own broom.
Victorious pleasure flooded me as Potter gritted his teeth, trying not to fall off his broom. His fingers clutched the broom handle so hard that his knuckles turned white.
"Malfoy, you cheat-" he spat. I couldn't make out the rest of the sentence because the crowd was now positively bawling.
"FOUL!! FOUL!!" A shrill whistle blew.
I smirked. It's no loss as long as it stops Potter from getting the snitch.
Gryffindor took the foul, scoring a quick goal, while dirty looks were shot at me by everyone. I looked where the snitch used to be, but it was gone. Those few seconds of distraction allowed the snitch to venture way.
I gazed around, hoping the snitch hadn't gone too far away. The quicker this game ended, the better. Suddenly, the unmistakable sound of a large metal ball whizzed towards me.
I glanced to my left, and to my horror, a bludger was spinning right towards me. My heart stopped in its tracks. And then, as if I was snapped alive, I swerved at the last second, hearing the bludger hiss as it missed me.
As I swerve, I didn't realise there was a large pillar right next to me. It was alarmingly close. I flew straight into it, unable to control my broom properly. Ravenclaw's blue colour engulfed me, the thick material slapping my face with such a force that my cheeks stung. I tear through the other side, gasping and barely managing not to tumble off my broom.
I clenched my jaw, feeling shaken. I'm out of practice. I was usually much faster with my reflexes. But that bludger would have slammed right into my chest if I hadn't moved at the last second. I should have been quicker to avoid the pillar.
Get your head into the game. I grit my teeth, closing my eyes and then opening them. Sucking in a deep breath, I prepare myself to continue searching for the snitch.
But I was too late.
Once again, Potter had spotted the snitch before me and was zooming towards it.
//NEW CHAPTER!!
Some drama is about to happen ;))
Hope you all enjoyed :D