"… AND IT'S GINNY WEASLEY WITH THE QUAFFLE! NICKNAMED 'FIRE ON A BROOM', WE COULD CALL THIS A LOSS FOR AUSTRALIA ALREADY! AND SHE'S SPEEDING DOWN THE FIELD… AND… AND… WILL AUSTRALIA BE ABLE TO BLOCK…? IT'S- I DON'T BELIEVE IT! IT'S IN!"

The Scotland Quidditch stadium was in uproars. Pandemonium; the score was now 160-40.

"…IF SCOTLAND WINS, THIS WILL BE THE FIRST TIME SCOTLAND WILL COMPETE FOR THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP IN 575 YEARS! AURSTRALIA IN CONTROL OF THE QUAFFLE… VENNOT SPEEDING DOWN TO SCOTLAND'S SIDE..."

"VENNOT! IF YOU DON'T MAKE THIS IN, YOU ARE SO FIRED!" The Australian captain, Chantal, the other chaser, screamed as Vennot rushed faster toward the hoops, sweat dripping down his eye. Not only was he intent on making this quaffle so that he could keep his high paying job, but it was for Ginny Weasley, the Scotland chaser. To impress her.

"…SCOTLAND'S KEEPER ALREADY DOWN, SINCE THE FIRST HALF. IT WON'T BE HARD TO MAKE THIS SHOT… VENNOT NEARS, SHOOTS AND SCO- NO WAY!"

Ginny pulled out of her dive with the warm Quaffle in her arms, smirking. "Don't worry, Vennot, your inexplicable ability to never make your goals impresses me already," she said, prodding her broom to the other side of the stadium.

Fire on a broom.

"Good game, team, good game!" The Scotland team captain, Jack Monaco, the seeker, smiled, quieting the partying team down.

The team cheered, high five-ing and laughing.

"Hey, Jack, who we up against for the big game, now?" Ginny asked amidst the chaos.

"Ireland."

"Again?" Don Jones, the beater, asked.

Jack nodded. "Ireland has won the cup for 8 years in a row now. Their chasers are to die for." He said, pausing, then smiling at Ginny.

"But our chasers are to KILL for."

Ginny grinned sheepishly alongside Angelina Johnson, her fellow chaser. "Our seeker's to kill for too!"

"Oh, quiet guys, don't make me blush. Ireland's got a kickass seeker too. Their old one retired, their new seeker is rumored to be the next Krum." Jack said.

"Shush, Jack. Don't be modest."

Jack smiled and continued. "We leave for London tomorrow. The game's in 4 weeks. Let's call this a night, team."

The room cheered and began to chant:

Oh, oh we Scottish don't think we're going to win

We KNOW we're going to win

We're going to rip you, tear you, and whoop your AH and

Don't think you can, don't even bother

It ain't a sin to brag but

It IS a sin to hope too much

Oh, oh when Scotland's done with you,

You'll wish you've never lived

Because when Scotland's done with you,

We're going to take you all

Because when Scotland's done with you,

Don't think you'll have no dignity

5-7-5 it's been too long

we Scottish can't just sit and wait

it's time, we'll be nice

here's your last chance to cry.

"It's fire on a broom!"

Ronald Weasley decided that he did not like hanging out with Ginny anymore.

As Ginny circled the stone streets with Ron, Harry, and Hermione, crowds of fans began to gather around, asking for an autograph of her, and while they were at it, Harry.

"Would you like one of me too?" Ron asked the growing group of girls as they glanced at the tall redhead from the corner of their eyes. "This girl is my sister and this boy here is my best mate."

"Oh, give up Ron, nobody wants your autograph." Ginny said, scribbling her signature on one girl's notepad.

"But really, Ginny. This is getting ridiculous." Hermione said, glancing around nervously. "There's no way we'll be able to get back home at this rate."

"Yeah, Gin, didn't you need a broom polishing kit?" Harry asked, smiling largely at a flashing camera.

"Miss Weasley, excuse me! Out of my way, Daily Prophet coming through! Miss Weasley, would you answer a few questions?"

"See, now we have the ruddy press on us too." Ron groaned.

"No, I would not like to answer questions." Ginny cried out as she roughly signed another notepad, her hands beginning to cramp.

"I hate hanging out with you now, Gin. This happens every single time." Ron said.

"Please! Miss Weasley! How does it feel now that you have helped your team to the Quidditch World Cup? It's been 575 years since Scotland had won! How does it feel?"

"Horrible. I am depressed right now, can't you tell?" Ginny replied bitterly.

"Excuse me, I'm from Witch Weekly's. Miss Weasley, are you in a relationship at this moment?"

"That's such a typical Witch Weekly's question. Is that all you guys care about? Yes. I am in a relationship. He died you see, I was deeply infatuated with Lord Voldemort before my good bud here killed him off. See, I have a thing for pales skin and red eyes."

"Careful what you say, Ginny, they might actually believe you." Harry said.

Ginny chuckled. "Okay, lads, I give up. I'll just steal Harry's polishing kit. Let's go back home."

And four cracks later, the mob stared into an empty space.

Draco hated waking up to unfamiliar rooms in an unfamiliar bed.

He had a splitting headache and mysteriously, he happened to be stark naked.

And the worst part was that there was a naked woman in the same bed next to him sleeping.

He had way too much to drink last night.

Luckily, her back was facing him so he didn't know who the mystery blond was. Draco crept out of bed and scavenged around the room for his underwear and clothes.

THUD

"Draco?"

Draco froze in middle of buttoning his shirt. His back was toward her and he didn't dare turn around to face her. He couldn't look at her; he didn't want to know who he had fucked again.

"Um, yes, dear?"

"Oh, Draco, last night was so beautiful."

"Yes, yes it was. It was so beautiful. Darling, you're so beautiful."

"Oh, Draco. Look at me. Draco. Draco, I think I love you."

Crap.

"Baby, listen. This can't happen. I'm leaving for London today and I probably won't be able to come back for a long time."

"I'll wait! I'll wait for you, Draco! I'll wait for you until I die!"

"No! No! Don't do that! No! You deserve better, love." Draco said, glancing behind his shoulder.

"I love you, Draco. I don't want to be with anyone but you. I gave you everything last night. Can't you take me?"

Draco pinched his nipples with his fingers and winced. He deserved it.

"You were a virgin?"

"Well, not exactly a virgin, but I've never made love to any man I loved this much."

"Honey, you should move on. I won't be back for a long, long time."

"Draco, why won't you look at me? Is something wrong?"

"Listen, sweetheart, you've got to listen to me. Forget me. Forget everything- it'll just make you hurt more and it'll make ME hurt." Draco said, hoping this will get the woman off his back.

"Draco? What's wrong? Look at me!"

"I got to go. I really have to go now. Last night was amazing. But you have to forget me, okay? You promise?"

"No! Draco! Draco- please. Kiss me. What can I do for you? What'll make you stay?"

"Nothing. I have to go to London today. I'll be there for a while."

"Draco, please. Don't leave me like this. Please."

"Move on, love. It's time to move on."

Draco heard the woman sob behind him. Draco pinched his nipples again. As of now, this was the only punishment he could think of giving himself.

"Please stay. One more moment. Please, Draco? Should I do what I did last night that you seemed to love so much?"

"W-What did you do last night again?"

He heard her gasp. "You don't remember? You don't remember! You were the FIRST man I've done it to and you don't remember?"

"Yes! Yes- I remember now. Sorry, emotional distress."

She sniffed. "If you won't look at me, if you won't even kiss me, then could you at least say my name? For me to remember for the rest of my life?"

"Er- well…"

"Could you? Please? Or I can't stand it." He heard bed covers moving and feet touching the carpet. Draco took a step closer to the door.

"Say it. Say my name. At least a whisper."

"Love…" Draco started.

"NO! Say my name! I want to hear you scream 'ISABEL!' again!"

Isabel. Draco racked his brain for the name Isabel. He thought long and hard… Isabel… Isabel…

Draco hadn't realized that the girl was right behind him now until he felt arms snaking up the front of his shirt and her breasts pressed up against his back.

"Draco, say my name."

"I've got to go." Draco said shakily, pulling away from her grasp. "Forget me. Promise? Promise me that you'll forget me, okay, Isabel? Isabel love?"

The girl began to sob once more.

"Okay."

Taking that as a cue, Draco ran out of the room, hearing one last wailing cry from within the doors.

The accidental Heart-breaker.

"What took you so long, Malfoy?" Martin asked as he ran toward where the team was meeting.

"Sorry- got delayed a bit." Draco breathed.

"Don't let it happen again. Is everybody here?"

"Yes."

"As soon as we get to Diagon Alley, we will quickly find our suites and get ready for the conference with Scotland. Make it quick; when we arrive, there will be fans, just to warn you. Don't stop and take pictures or sign autographs unless the chick is hot. Understand me?" Martin commanded.

"Yeah, Martin. We've been through this a dozen times already. Who do you think we are? Scotland?"

The team chuckled and looked up at Martin, their captain.

"That's right. The past eight times, I've gone over it. I think of it as our good luck sign."

"We don't need luck to beat Scotland. We just need Draco and Montage."

"Well, let's do it then! Huddle up, team! 1…2…3…"

"IRELAND!"

I don't know. I was re-watching the fourth Harry Potter movie and the QWC scene. And it was just so cool that I had this sudden urge to write this. Yeah, I'm weird.

Well, please review if you think this story will go somewhere. I have a slight idea, but I'm not really sure.

Excerpt chapter 2:

Martin was not kidding. When they arrived, the entire Diagon Alley had been mobbed by screaming fans and curious villagers.

And they did what Martin told; they didn't stop to smile or to sign their signatures on notepads unless the chick was really hot.

Draco held his broom and bags in one hand and his papers in his other as he sauntered down the alley with his fellow teammates.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a flushed redhead holding onto the newspaper, eyeing them with a sense that Draco could not quite put a finger on. Was it admiration? Was it excitement? Was it hatred?

Draco paused and looked at the girl. "Do you want me to sign that?" He asked, pointing at her newspaper.

For a slight moment, she looked perplexed, then loosened up and smirked. "No, the question is, do you want ME to sign THAT?" She said, pointing at his papers.

Draco frowned. "Who are you?"

"Depends what you want to call me. My friends call me Gin, but most of the public calls me 'fire on a broom.'" She replied, walking away with a bit of a bounce by every step.