Draco could hear the crowd chanting "Potter for President" up in the stadiums and furrowed his brow. He told himself they'd soon be chanting HIS name after he caught the snitch. This would be the game the tide turned and Potter would be put in his rightful place. He knew it. He entered the quidditch field, following the rest of his team. Looking out at all the faces, he realized he couldn't find any smiling at him. They all seemed to be looking in another direction. He followed the direction their heads were turned and saw Potter and the griffindor team, walking in the stadium. The crowd went wild and the chanting grew more intense. He swore to himself. He couldn't even make out any friendly faces in the slytherin section. After the last game, when he had failed yet again to catch the snitch when his house needed him most, it had seemed they lost faith in him. It all seemed like a big joke; even his own house was against him today.
He heard madame Hooch's whistle, and he kicked off the ground, suddenly aware of every ball, every player in the air around him. He saw a glint of gold shoot up into the sky and out of sight. He knew it was pointless to pursue it; there was no way it would let anyone catch it this soon. Nevertheless, he shot up into the sky, and hovered above the other players, Potter already ten feet above him. He liked where he was, and continued to search the air around him for that familiar gold speck. Potter was watching his team get their first goal and cheered along with the stadiums. The sound was defeaning, but that only made his mind clearer as he brought his attention back to the snitch. He wanted more than anything to see it right at this moment and make his house proud. Harry Potter had once caught the snitch in the first five minutes of one of his first game at hogwarts. Back when Draco couldn't even be on the team. It didn't make sense, did it, that Potter was able to play as a first year; Dumbledore let his favorite student play a sport he had never played before, while Draco wasn't able to play the same game that he had loved ever since he could remember. Quiditch had always been a way to both relax and think deeply. There was no where else he could do this. And despite the complaints his father had made to the headmaster, Dumbledore refused to let Draco play. It had been crushing when he found out Potter became the Griffindor seeker. Ever since then, Potter continued to be pampered by the headmaster and seemed to always evade school rules.
A small whirring sound next to his ear brought him back to the game. He had kept his eyes peeled while reminicing about first year, but using his ears had slipped his mind. He quickly turned his broom around, just in time to see the golden snitch zoom away to the left. He started instantly and raced after it- in the back of his vision he could see Potter following him. He couldn't believe how unfair it was that Potter could follow him after Draco saw the snitch. He wished he could pursue it without the griffindor at his neck. It wasn't his fault he wasn't able to buy the fastest broom available. Technically Potter couldn't either; he had people to buy them for him. Typical.
He swerved this way and that, pursuing the fleck of gold ahead. He lost sight of it a few times, only to spot it a second later 10 feet in a different direction. The snitch had a way of moving like lightning before his eyes. He leaned forward, advancing on the snitch. Potter had been hit by a bludger, and was only just catching up to him. He relished in the fact that Potter's face had been the bludger's successful target.
As Draco gained on the snitch, the crowd grew increasingly silent. Then again, it could've just been his imagination playing tricks on him. But he was in his own world. He even forgot that Potter was at his side, racing after the same ball. It became the snitch and himself; everyone else had disappeared. It suddenly swerved upward and he followed it's sporadic path. Now only feet away, he could hear it whirring. It dropped. He immediately did a 360 in the air and now about 3 feet behind the snitch, he continued to follow it to the ground. He leaned close to his broom and before he knew it, the snitch was within reach. The field was approaching at an exponential speed, but he knew if he crashed he'd somehow be okay. But he wouldn't crash. He was going to catch the snitch. He reached out...
Another arm was there a second before his and Potter had done it. There was a thunderous applause, and Draco pulled up from his dive. Potter rose high into the air and held his hand high. His stomach dropped, and his mouth tasted bitter. Of course. He had spotted the snitch, and Potter had caught it. Again. The match had gone like any other. Without knowing he had been losing air, he found his feet slowly meet the field, and he got off his broom. He saw the rest of his team do the same and walk past him and out the stadium. Not one of them acknowledged his presence. He could see the griffindor team, still in the air, zooming around the stadium. Lee Jordan was shouting something into the megaphone and the crowds were deafening. He turned around and, thinking dark thoughts, headed back towards reality.