Disclaimer: "Bend It" belongs to not me, and HP is J.K.'s. Sincerest thanks to the Goddess of pro-fic..
A/N: SO SORRY this took so sodding long! Usual excuses apply. Hope you enjoy this. The quotes and, in fact, most of the Quidditch technical mumbo-jumbo can be found in "Quidditch Through the Ages," a timeless companion for every Quidditch buff.
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Chapter 4
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" -from Cork flew over for a game in Lancashire and did offend the locals by beating their heroes soundly. The Irishmen knew tricks with the Quaffle that had not been seen in Lancashire before and had to flee the village for fear of their lives when the crowd drew their wands and – "
"I didn't know you could read."
"Twenty laps before and after practice, Weasel." Draco didn't bother to look up but could sense her seething.
"Well, that's good. Even if I can't catch the Quaffle to save my life, I'll be the world's best lap-runner."
He bit back a grin in spite of himself.
"You can't run on a broom, Weasel. Get out to the pitch and stop bothering me."
"Aren't you supposed to be coaching, Malfoy?"
"At the moment, no."
"Praise Merlin, have you resigned?"
"That'll be thirty laps now, Weasel. Best get started so you can actually get some practice in as well."
"Gin!" The girl turned and to face Boot and Bones, both of whom were stalking toward her and looking furious.
"What're you doing?" Boot demanded, glaring at Ginny.
"Wasting everyone's time arguing with the coach," Draco put in lazily, his eyes still trained on his book. "She owes sixty laps, Boot."
"Fine – in the air, Gin," the seventh year ordered.
"But – " Ginny's face was turning a nice shade of radish.
"Come on, Gin, we've got to get practicing," Bones put in gently. Draco bit back a snort. The Weaslett didn't need sympathy, she needed a good kick in the –
With a smirk, Draco returned his attention to his book.
"Diverse sources show that the game had spread into other parts of Europe by the early fifteenth century. We know that Norway was an early convert to the game because of the verses written by the early poet Ingolfr the Iambic – "
"It'd help if you'd stop antagonizing her, coach." Now exceptionally irritated, Draco dog-eared Quidditch Through the Ages and looked up at Boot, who had taken a seat in the stands beside Draco and was watching Ginny tear around the pitch in high dudgeon.
"She's got to learn her place." Draco shrugged. "Anyway, she started it."
"Oh, that's a mature attitude," Boot snorted. "I agree that she's got to chill a bit – "
Draco stared at her in surprise. Boot shrugged.
"What? I know what it takes to make a team. I helped form this one, and I can tell you that smoothing out the disputes between members from different Houses was hell."
"But you did it," Draco muttered grudgingly.
"That's right," she nodded. "We did. And although I think Ginny's got more than enough reason to hate you, I also know that she's got to take it easy – for everyone's sake, not just yours."
Boot got up and left the stands to rejoin the rest of the team in the air, leaving Draco feeling faintly annoyed. He wasn't entirely sure, but he had a feeling he was supposed to feel partially responsible for the Weasel's inability to bite her tongue.
With a shrug of indifference he went back to his book.
"The year 1473 saw the first ever Quidditch World Cup, though the nations represented were all European. The nonappearance of teams from more distant nations may be put down to the collapse of the owls bearing letters of invitation, the reluctance of those invited to make such a long and perilous journey, or perhaps a simply preference to stay – "
"Good evening, Mr. Malfoy." Draco nearly jumped out of his skin. Twisting awkwardly in his seat, he found himself looking into the twinkling blue eyes of Dumbledore – the great loon!
"I'm sorry if I gave you a fright," the Headmaster went on, moving to take a seat beside Draco on the bench, folding his hands serenely in his lap. He threw a mildly interested look at the book Draco was still clutching with white-knuckled hands. "Ah, yes. I'm glad to see that you've taken Mr. Zabini's advice."
Draco bit back his exasperation with difficulty. How did Dumbledore always seem to know what was going on? Aside from being unnerving, it was also dead annoying.
"So," the old maniac went on, "I apologize for my lateness. I'm afraid I got caught up in a rather delectable box of sweets a friend of mine sent me this morning. Four hundred flavors! Goodness, I've been at them since you and Miss Granger left my office earlier today."
Draco stared at him, feeling an unwilling laugh rise in his throat. He choked it down with an effort.
"Er – it's all right, sir," he said. "Practice is just starting."
Or might have been if the Weaslett, Natalie McDonald, and Adrienne Abbot hadn't stopped to gape openly at Dumbledore. To Draco's relief the Headmaster merely smiled and waved, and a moment later, Bones came zooming around to get the others back into practice.
"I see you've kept my imminent arrival quiet," Dumbledore said, his eyes trained on Boot, who was waving everyone down onto the field for a pre-practice pep talk.
"Er – right," Draco said awkwardly. "I just didn't want them to get nervous, is all."
"I see." The Headmaster nodded. However, Draco had a feeling he'd made a mistake. In not informing his team of the Headmaster's intention to observe today's practice, Draco had hoped to subject Dumbledore to the normal routine. He didn't want the girls showing off, or getting upset, or nervous, or suspicious.
To their credit, most of them managed to pull of a relatively normal practice. Warm-ups went off nicely, with Boot putting the girls through the more advanced drills Draco had devised during Charms earlier that day. The only comment Dumbledore made was,
"My, my. Miss Weasley seems to be trying to set some sort of record. How many laps has she done?"
Draco tried not to wince as he suddenly realized what an awkward position he'd placed himself in. If it had been anyone else doing laps, it might have been okay, but Dumbledore knew about the animosity between the Malfoys and Weasleys. Draco could only hope the old clod didn't think he was unfairly discriminating. That could definitely count against the team's chances of sponsorship.
Draco opened his mouth to say something in his own defense, but realized that no matter what he said, it could be misconstrued malicious or immature. For example, "Weasley called me stupid and I thought I'd teach her some respect," didn't sound very impressive and would probably give Dumbledore the impression that Draco was misusing his power.
Which he wasn't! No. He was merely trying to get Ginny off her high hippogriff in order to avoid enmity between the coach and team. That was all.
Focusing a bit harder, Draco saw that Bones was calling everyone over from various warm ups and ordering them to circle up. Ginny had just finished, evidently, because she was spiraling down to join her teammates. She still looked sour.
"Well, Mr. Malfoy?" Draco started and bit back an irritated curse.
"Pardon, sir?"
"Oh, I just thought you'd be joining the team now." Dumbledore was watching him calmly. It took Draco a minute, but then he realized he'd just made another mistake. Sitting up in the stands this way gave the impression that he felt he was a separate entity from his team.
"I'm usually down on the field with the girls, but I told Boots and Bones to take this practice so I could stay up here - in case you had any questions, sir." He mentally kicked himself for overcompensating.
"Oh, think nothing of me," Dumbledore chuckled good-naturedly. "You've got a team to see to. I'll keep until after practice."
"Right - thanks, sir." Gritting his teeth, Draco got up and began the climb down the bleachers to the field where the team was circling up. He knew what the loon was doing. He wanted to see how Draco interacted with the girls. The Slytherin sent a silent prayer to Salazar Slytherin that Ginny would keep her sass to herself this practice.
" - don't worry about it," Bones was intoning as Draco approached. It was clear what she was referring to. Many of the girls were throwing incredulous looks in Dumbledore's directions. It was Adrienne Abbot who noticed Draco first.
"Coach! You didn't tell us Dumbledore was gonna be sitting this practice! What gives?"
Abbot's noise making drew the attention of the others, who apparently hadn't noticed Draco leave the stands. Draco was almost deafened by the noise of protests, demands, and accusations.
"Shut it, won't you?" he finally barked over the loud exclamations of his cousin Ananda and Pansy. The babble dribbled off into a rather sulky, if expectant, silence.
"Look," he went on. "I don't want you lot to worry about Dumbledore, right? The important thing is that he's here to observe and it'd be to our benefit to have a smashing training today."
"But why is he here, Malfoy?" Ginny demanded, her hands on her hips. Draco could see Boot rolling her eyes in the background.
"That's my business for the moment, Weaslett," he returned coolly. "But I promise you it will become your concern if you manage to catch a few reverse passes today."
To their credit, Ginny's teammates hid their smiles and giggling well. Ginny's expression darkened noticeably, but Granger chose that moment to whisper something in Ginny's ear. Whatever it was, Ginny's expression drooped a bit and she shrugged resignedly.
"Now, if you're all quite through with your interrogation, kindly seat your bums on your brooms and give me the best ruddy game I've ever seen!" he snapped. Everyone but Granger jumped, but looked a bit less mutinous after that. Some even looked excited to be flying under the eye of the Headmaster.
"We need teams, Malfoy," Boot said. "Care to do the honors?"
"Right." Draco thought for a moment. "Just this once, the Weaslett, Pans, and Granger will be flying together. Abbot, Patil, Ananda - I want you paying special attention to their weaknesses. We know Weasley can't catch. What else do you lot notice about Pansy and Granger's technique?"
"Pansy can't score very well," Ananda said, managing to keep any malice out of her voice. "And Granger's no good at reverse passes. Apart from that, they're pretty solid." She smirked. "Anyway, we know that no Keeper can stop Weasley." Several girls voiced their agreement enthusiastically and Ginny blushed.
"I'll be the judge of that, thanks," Draco snapped, glaring at his cousin. "Okay, Beaters. McDonald, Millicent, I want you two together, focusing on Bludger Backups. I want those Bludgers going toward the opposing team only, got it? Same for you two," he added, nodding to Boot and Pavarti Patil. "I also want to see some coordinated Dopplebeater Defenses - aiming for the Keepers today. And Abbot, I want you against them - you're too good. Bones, I want you running Double Eight Loops against Weasley. It's the only tactic that could possibly stop her aerials. And Johnson, Bentley - I don't give a damn which one of you gets the bloody Snitch, as long as it doesn't take more than an hour. Now go on, get up there!"
His team stood stalk still for a moment, gaping at him like beached fish. Then Granger suddenly threw her leg over her broom and took off. Ginny, Patrice Patil, and Jessica Bentley were right behind her and soon the whole team was in the air.
"Balls out!" Draco called, kicking the wooden chest open and jumping back to avoid the Bludgers. He stepped forward once they had cleared the box and tossed the Quaffle up as well.
Throwing a glance toward the stands, Draco noticed Dumbledore leaning forward to watch.
And the Slytherin swore there was a grin on the old maniac's lips.
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Ginny couldn't believe it! Not an hour into the game, Jessica Bentley pulled out of a rather spectacular Plumpton Pass and shook the Snitch out of her sleeve. Although Ginny knew that the man for whom the move had been named had supposedly caught the Snitch by accident, she could tell by the look of suppressed triumph on the second-year Seeker's face that she had fully intended that move.
Cheering along with the rest of her temporary team, she sank back to the field, where Draco was waiting with an unmistakably smug expression. And standing beside him -
"What's Dumbledore doing down here?" Hannah Abbot mumbled to Ginny as she pulled up alongside Ginny's Nimbus.
"No idea," Ginny told her friend, taking her hands off her broom to fix her ponytail. "But it's Malfoy's doing. I can tell by his infuriating smirk."
"What do you suppose it is?" Hannah asked, eyeing the Headmaster nervously.
"Dunno," Ginny shrugged, twisting the band around her hair. "But Mione does. I can tell."
They touched down simultaneously and joined the other girls around Draco and Dumbledore.
"Nice one, Jess," Draco began without preamble. "Most Seekers don't use Plumptons nowadays. Johnson, next time she feints like that, follow her."
"Okay, coach." Betina looked disappointed. Ginny, who was beside her, put an arm around her friend. She saw Dumbledore's eyes twinkle at her and bit back a smile.
"Granger, Pans, good show," Draco went on, his eyes raking over the Chasers. "The Hawkshead Attack was good. Just don't forget that the second you pull out, you're open to attack. That's how Patil and Nanda got you with that Parkin's Pincer, Granger." His eyes turned to Ginny and for a moment he stayed silent. Ginny could sense his internal struggle. He loathed the idea of telling her she'd done something right, but at the same time couldn't pass over her with Dumbledore at his back.
"Weasley," he said at length. "Your reverse to Pansy at the beginning of the game was good, and I saw several decent aerials. Just be careful of that Pincer. And for Merlin's sake, work with Granger or Abbot or someone on catching!" He didn't say it maliciously, but Ginny had to exercise a lot of control not to retort that if he'd let her warm up with the rest of the team instead of making her fly in circles indefinitely, she might have more to show for herself.
"I've got notes for the rest of you as well, but they can wait until stretching," Draco went on. "Professor Dumbledore's got a few things to say, so listen up."
The Headmaster cleared his throat quietly, looking around at the sweaty, bedraggled team with an expression that surprised Ginny. He looked impressed.
"Perhaps it would first be prudent to explain to your team why I am here, Mr. Malfoy?" he suggested, and Ginny saw his lip twitch.
"Oh, right." Ginny couldn't help grinning now. This was the first time she had ever seen Draco and Dumbledore interact and it was clear that the older man made the Slytherin nervous. It was rather pleasing to see that someone took Draco off his high horse occasionally. "Um, I went to the Headmaster this morning and - er - asked him to back our team."
There was a moment of stunned silence.
"By 'backed,'" Ginny said carefully, hardly daring to believe what she'd just heard. "You mean put money into sponsoring certain - certain areas of our team?"
"Yeah, Weasley," Draco said, clearly trying not to give her an annoyed look.
"And what part of this will he be backing?" Pavarti asked slowly.
"As of this practice, everything from new uniforms to pitch time," Draco said. Another moment of stunned silence, and then it was as though the pitch had exploded with babble.
"Oh my god!" Ananda shrieked, and she and Ginny jumped up and down squealing and hugging. Ginny felt sort of numb. A sponsor - they had a sponsor! They were going to be real! A team mascot, team colors, new uniforms! Not that they'd had old ones, really . . .
"Oy! Girls!" Ginny and Ananda joined the rest in trying to calm down. Draco rolled his eyes. "I reckon headless chickens should be our team mascot," he said pointedly. Ginny was so thrilled she managed to laugh along with the rest. "Anyway, Professor Dumbledore's got some stuff to go over with you guys, so try not to wet yourselves until he's through."
"Smarmy git!" Ginny hissed under her breath, but she was still grinning wide enough for her face to split.
"Ahem," Dumbledore began again. "Mr. Malfoy is quite right. It is my honor and privilege to announce that I will be backing your team." He had to stop because the girls had started cheering again. The Headmaster waited with an amused look for them to settle down again. "Mr. Malfoy came to me this morning with a proposal I could not refuse. He informed me that fourteen talented young women from a variety of Houses had been practicing night and day and wished to become a certified team. With Miss Granger's help - "
"I knew she was in on this!" Ginny whispered to Hannah, and they grinned at the Gryffindor Prefect. Hermione winked mischievously back.
" - Mr. Malfoy relayed a proposal to the effect that, should I be properly impressed by your team's effort and ability, I would provide financial support for you."
"What does 'financial support' entail, exactly, sir?" Millicent asked eagerly.
"I was just coming to that," Dumbledore told her, smiling cheerfully. "Financial support means that I secure for you all uniforms in your team's choice of colors and mascot, pitch time and locker rooms of your own, proper matches against the four Houses - " the excited babble began again, rising with each new pronouncement - "and, of course, broomsticks - " his voice was drowned in the shrieks and shouts of joy and delight. Ginny could barely contain herself.
Brooms! They were going to get team brooms! No more Cleansweeps or even outdated Nimbuses! She knew that if Draco had convinced Dumbledore that they were worth it that they would be getting the finest money could buy.
"Thanks so much, sir!" Hermione called over the din. She didn't look surprised, but she looked as ecstatic as the rest. The others offered their thanks as well, but Dumbledore held up his hands for quiet. The din died away.
"You are all most welcome," he said with a smile. "As I told Draco and Miss Granger, I haven't heard of this worthy a cause in quite some time. And having seen you fly together, I am quite sure you will be an example to many. However, there are certain conditions that go along with Hogwarts' sponsorship."
Ginny felt her happy bubble deflate a bit. It had seemed a bit on the too-good-to-be-true side . . .
"First of all, I want to see you continuing to put in the sort of effort you demonstrated tonight," Dumbledore began. "I'm sure I do not have to tell you that a fancy uniform and nice broomsticks do not make up for slacking. Also, I must impress upon all of you the necessity of keeping up with your studies. Some of you have N.E.W.T.s. this year; some have O.W.L.s. Regardless, your education takes precedence over Quidditch. If you fall significantly behind in any class, I'm afraid the penalty will be same for you as it would be for a House team member. You will have to take a leave from your team until your study habits improve." He looked quite seriously around at all of them and for a moment. There was complete silence. Then his expression lightened and he went on.
"I must also tell you that because this is not a regular school activity you will all have to owl home permission slips to your guardians, getting express permission to participate on this team." There was a collective groan. Dumbledore smiled. "Not to worry. I will be sending the slips myself and have no doubt that your respective guardians will be as thrilled by this project as I am."
"I wouldn't bet on it," Ginny heard Ananda mumble to Pansy. The other nodded grimly.
"For the moment, I believe that's all," Dumbledore said. "And as I believe dinner is near at hand, I suggest that you head for the lockers. Good evening and thank you for a good show."
And with that, he turned and strolled away across the pitch, humming.
"We'll skip stretching for today!" Draco called. "I'm dead hungry!"
The excited chatter that had greeted Dumbledore's pronouncement continued into the lockers.
"How'd you talk him into it, Hermione?" Natalie was asking the Prefect as they entered to lockers. Ginny hurried forward to listen.
"It really was Malfoy's idea," Hermione murmured to them, heading for her locker. "He and I left Potions to see the Headmaster this morning. Malfoy had a list of stuff we'd need and all. And Dumbledore seemed really impressed by how much thought Malfoy'd put into this. It didn't hurt that he'd brought a Gryffindor to back him up. That's it, honestly."
Ginny was still smiling, but she felt a bit of a wrench in her gut. Despite how deeply she despised Draco, his act of devotion to the team was sort of touching. Until that point, Ginny hadn't really thought he was taking them seriously. The fact that he'd gone to Dumbledore, pocketed his pride and dragged Hermione, and worked so hard to plan his spiel suggested to Ginny that he really wanted to make this work.
"I - Mione, do you think I owe him an apology?" she asked her friend haltingly. Hermione pulled her tee-shirt over her head and turned to regard her friend thoughtfully.
"Maybe just a thank you for putting an effort into us," the Prefect said slowly. "I don't think you've done anything wrong. He's been rotten to you. Your attitude's been understandable."
"I guess." Ginny threw a glance across the lockers. Draco was leaning against Susie's locker, talking quietly to her and Jools. Ginny sighed loudly. Then sucking up her pride, she made her way across the lockers.
"Malfoy - coach?" she forced out as she approached. He looked up in surprise at being addressed this way by her of all people.
"What is it, Weasley?" At least his tone was curious, rather than condescending or impatient, which steeled Ginny's resolve to do what she'd come to do.
"Can I - can I have a word?" she asked quietly. He regarded her thoughtfully for a moment.
"All right," he said at length, pushing off the locker. "We'll take a walk round the pitch. You've not done your other thirty laps, have you?"
Ginny bit down on her tongue to keep from retorting. She should have known . . .
"No," she gritted.
"Good," he nodded briskly. "You can get those done when you're through. Come on."
He led her out onto the pitch and started a slow stroll around the edge.
"What is it?" he asked. Once again, his tone was curious.
"I - I just want - " she faltered. It was costing her a great effort not to gag on the words.
"Well?" he said, sounding faintly annoyed. "Spit it out."
"Thanks, okay?" she snapped loudly.
He stopped dead.
"What?" He sounded frankly amazed.
"I said thank you!" Ginny said loudly, not looking at him. "Thanks for going to Dumbledore for us."
"Oh." He looked rather speechless. "Er - no problem."
Ginny was so startled that he hadn't retorted or been smarmy in any way that she couldn't really think of anything else to say.
"Er - that was all," she said intelligently.
Draco continued to stare at her for another few moments.
"Right, then," he said, suddenly businesslike. "You've still got thirty laps to do. Get 'em done and meet me back here in ten."
Ginny felt anger boil in her gut. He could at least have said 'You're Welcome.' Then his words caught with a grinding halt in her brain.
"Why am I meeting you back here in ten?" she asked. He was actually going to wait for her to finish thirty laps? He was going to be here a while.
"Because I want to talk to you about your aerials - I think that one where you jump through the hoop is considered a foul," Draco told her tartly. "Meet me outside the lockers once you've showered and we'll go up to dinner."
'We'll go up to dinner,' he'd said.
Ginny couldn't help gaping and he strolled away across the pitch.
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I hate leaving you all here when you've had to wait so bloody long for a new chappy. This one was transitional as well, which means it's not very interesting. SORRY! It was hard to write for some reason. That, and I only just finished math finals two days ago, so my free time this summer's been next to non-existent. Hope this tides you over for a bit!
Loves,
J.T.