The Dragon Rebels
Author: Lee Velviet
Disclaimer: I own nothing - you know who all this stuff belongs to - J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., etc.
Chapter Two - Quidditch Trials
Ginny was walking down a rocky, gravel path surrounded by the members of the Gryffindor House quidditch team - Harry Potter,Seeker and Team Captain, her brother, Ron Weasley, their Keeper, and their Beaters, Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas. The tryouts were today, and they were on the lookout for two new Chasers to take the place of the other two girls who had finished their schooling the year before.
Ginny and the boys crested a low, grassy hill, and stopped momentarily to look out over the huge quidditch pitch. Ginny took a deep breath of the cool fall air, as her eyes took in the familiar sights - the brightly colored house stands, painted to match the individual houses crests, and the long, colorful banners waving at the top of each. The pitch itself gleamed a healthy green, and the goal posts were bright with a fresh coat of paint.
"What the hell is Malfoy doing here?" Ron exclaimed suddenly, elbowing Harry, who shot him a dirty look before looking down.
"I don't know. We're on the list first, though," Harry muttered, pushing up his glasses on his nose. He readjusted his Firebolt on his shoulder and they all followed him down the sloping hill onto the pitch.
Malfoy met them. Ginny stood partially behind Harry, thoroughly disgusted with herself, and trying not to cringe.
"We have the pitch first, Malfoy," Ron was complaining.
"There is no rule against us being here, though. Really, you should try not to be so bloody paranoid." With a cool look, he turned and walked away, his team meeting him on the edge of the field.
Ginny saw Harry and Ron look at each other in surprise that he hadn't stuck around to further insult them.
"Bloody intimidation tactics, is what it is," Ron muttered darkly.
Ginny caught herself looking around Harry's shoulder at the green-clad Slytherin team, eyeing one in particular with avid curiosity, and she shook herself.
It wouldn't do to start developing a crush on a Malfoy.
No, it wouldn't do at all...
Ginny hovered, feeling sweaty and gritty, in front of the goals, thinking over the past half-hour. She'd been acting as Keeper ever since a too excited and enthusiastic throw from a fourth year Gryffindor named Curtis Hartman had sent a normally harmless Quaffle into Ron's shoulder. Ron had left to go to the Infirmary very reluctantly.
So far Ginny had only seen two really good potential players - Curtis Hartman, who'd really be a better Beater, and another fourth year girl, named Molly Colerain, who had short, spiky blonde hair and an annoying habit of snapping her bubble gum; but she had a wicked reverse pass, and a positive, upbeat attitude. She reminded Ginny of what Madam Hooch must have looked like in her youth.
Harry flew up level with her then, and she saw a trickle of sweat run from his temple down his neck. His cheeks were flushed, and he had a smudge of dirt along the edge of one jaw line. Ginny thought he'd never looked so handsome. Then she realized he was talking to her.
" – guess that's it."
Ginny blinked as Harry tucked his head into his shoulder to dry the dampness from his brow. She concentrated on the gloved fingers curled around the handle of his Firebolt, noting the bitten fingernails - only she would think that bitten fingernails were an endearing trait.
"You mean, that's all of the tryouts." Ginny sighed. She'd thought she was past the crushing on Harry stage. I am, a part of her thought indignantly.
"Yeah." Harry looked back at the ground over his shoulder. "It looks like it'll be Hartman and Colerain. What do you think?"
Ginny shrugged, though secretly pleased he cared enough to ask her opinion. "Molly is good - Curtis would be too, if we could get his aim straight. I actually think he'd be a better Beater."
Harry smiled distractedly as he looked back at her. "It should be interesting to see him in the first match. Maybe he'll hit Malfoy."
"Well, speaking of - Malfoy is looking impatient. I can see him glaring daggers at your back from here. We better clear off." Ginny prided herself on keeping the slight tremor she felt in her throat out of her voice.
Harry snorted, bringing his broom around until he was beside her, and facing the same direction. He readjusted the glasses slipping on his nose and then shook his head. Ginny caught a glimpse of his seldom seen scar through his sweat-dampened bangs.
"Since when does Malfoy call the shots around here?" He grinned. "Race you round the pitch? C'mon, just once – it'll really get on his nerves."
Ginny grinned back. How could she resist? "Okay - ready?"
Ginny was laughing giddily a few minutes later as they landed on the grass beside the edge of the field. Harry was grinning like mad as he shouldered his broom.
"I can't believe I just did that!" Ginny put her hand over her thumping heart and laughed breathlessly. She'd followed Harry on every loop, hairpin turn and spectacular dive he'd made - and had done it unflinchingly.
Harry looked at her; impressed - his cheeks were pink, his dark hair standing out, ruffled in all directions, emerald eyes bright and sparkling. "I think you would make a great Seeker. I didn't know you could fly like that."
Ginny shook her head. "I didn't either…must be the broom." Ginny glanced down at the second-hand Firebolt she'd worked two part time jobs in the village for all summer long.
"No, Ginny. Don't sell yourself short. You've worked hard to get where you are, now. You deserve the praise."
Ginny blushed a little. "Thanks, Harry." She looked past Harry's shoulder and felt her smile fall. Malfoy was looking at them coldly.
Harry's smile fell, too, when he saw her face, and threw a narrow-eyed look over his shoulder.
Ginny grabbed his arm and tugged him forward. "So, anyway, what do you think we can do about Curtis - ?"
She managed to divert Harry's attention, and they made their way back to the castle to see about Ron. Ginny tried to ignore the eyes she felt boring into her back as they left.
Draco felt his eyes narrow on Ginny as he watched her face while she talked to Potter. Her face positively lit up as she talked, and he noticed the way her body leaned toward him, the way she put her fingers to her throat as she laughed at something he said.
He felt a scowl emerge on his face as he watched Potter lower his head to say something close to her ear. He wanted to go over slug the prat in the gut - which was nothing new, but why want to do it over Ginny Weasley?
Draco sneered and turned away to wave his team over. He didn't have any wish to bother wasting his time thinking about the littlest Weasley.
His Father would send a couple of vengeful Death Eaters after him if he had any idea about the identity of the girl his only son was having sudden - albeit unwanted – impure thoughts about.
He suddenly felt an utterly evil, thoroughly despicable grin cross his lips as an unexpected plan began to form in his mind.
Yes, his father would shit twice and die if he heard he was chasing after the Weasley girl – ah, no - better yet, keeping company with her.
Oh, this is priceless, he thought as he mounted his Firebolt and rose into the cool air above the pitch. The idea had merit - but did he want to go that far, just to show his complete and utter lack of respect for his father?
The memory of Ginny straddling her broom across the field from him that morning came to mind, unbidden, and Draco reached up to tug at the necklace around his suddenly tight throat.
He rolled his eyes. Well, his body had certainly answered with a resounding YES!
Draco spent the rest of the Slytherin team trials in an extreme state of discomfort - and if the players noticed his sudden attack of temper, no one dared say a word.
TBC