Chapter 15

"Is your team quite ready Weasley?" Daphne Greengrass hissed coolly, her arms crossed menacingly over her chest. The rest of the Slytherin team stood behind her, all with their chests puffed out and their chins raised. Harry faintly recognized most of the players, with the exception of a short, squat, brunette who looked no older than twelve. "Or do you need more time to practice?" She raised a condescending eyebrow, and Harry watched as Ginny struggled to keep calm. If he had learned anything from his years knowing Ginny, it was that she hated to be patronized.

"We don't need any more time," she responded through gritted teeth. "As long as you're ready to lose."

"I wouldn't count on it." Greengrass smirked. Harry shifted his eyes to see Malfoy standing near the back of the Slytherin cluster. He stood slightly apart from the other players, his noble face reflecting Greengrass' arrogance. Harry couldn't help but notice how tall he was; of course, he'd always known Malfoy was taller than most of the boys at Hogwarts, but he'd never really thought about it until now.

"I brought Luna here to judge and make sure that there's no dirty playing." Ginny eyed Greengrass suspiciously and gestured to the stands, where a lone Luna Lovegood sat and waved towards the players. Greengrass scoffed and looked like she was about to object when Malfoy interrupted her.

"No offense," Malfoy stepped forwards, pushing past two surly Slytherin boys in the middle of the group. The Slytherin team watched him, their eyes narrowing. It was then that Harry realized Malfoy really hadn't been exaggerating about the Slytherin house being wary of him. "But do you really think Luna is qualified to referee?" It did not escape Harry's, or Ginny's, notice that Malfoy referred to Luna by her first name.

"And what is it exactly that you are trying to imply about Luna?" Ginny placed emphasis on her friend's name, her tone dangerous. All of the other players on the field tensed at the sound of Ginny's bubbling anger, but Malfoy didn't even flinch.

"Relax Weaslette," The use of that particular nickname did not help to calm Ginny down. "I'm merely saying that she's not really an expert when it comes to Quidditch. Not to mention the fact that she's hardly impartial."

"And I'm sure you have plenty of friends in the other houses that could referee instead?" Ginny said, glaring at Malfoy. His eyes narrowed and Greengrass began to speak before he could respond.

"Whatever, Weasley." Malfoy returned to his spot in the back of the group. "Let's just get started."

The teams assembled into position. Ginny beckoned Luna over to the pitch, and she ambled over obligingly. She adjusted her spectrespecs, which were beginning to dangle off the tip of her nose.

"Good afternoon everyone," Luna said dreamily, her eyes floating over the crowd. "Lovely day, isn't it?" The players shifted uncomfortably, impatiently waiting for her to blow the whistle that would signal the start of the game. Luna's eyes wandered over to the Slytherin team, and she seemed to ponder them for a minute. When she did finally speak again, Harry was surprised to hear her say Malfoy's name: his first name.

"Draco," Luna leaned towards the Slytherins and Harry saw her squint behind her tinted glasses. "Did you know you have quite a few Wrackspurts buzzing around your head? You should probably do something about that." Malfoy didn't respond, but Luna didn't seem particularly bothered by this. "You all are probably waiting for me to start the game, aren't you?" Everyone nodded.

"That'd probably be best Luna, if you could just-" Ginny was interrupted by Luna's loud whistle, and as soon as the players heard the sound, they were flying up into the air.

While the game started off fairly calm, it didn't take long for things to escalate. The Slytherin team had been given a penalty twice now: once for the fact that one of their beaters intentionally hit a Bludger straight towards Ginny, and the second being for Greengrass' attempt to shove Pavarti off her broom.

Harry, meanwhile, waited at the corner of the field, watching the game for any sign of the fluttering golden wings of the Snitch. In fact, his eyes were too busy searching the pitch for the tiny gold ball that he didn't notice Malfoy fly over next to him.

"I'm surprised you're still trying." Harry heard a haughty voice on his left remark. He whipped around and there was Malfoy, lounging on his broom. "We both know Slytherin's going to win this one."

Harry frowned. It was true; even with the penalties, Slytherin had managed to pull a hundred points ahead of the Gryffindors. But if Harry could find the Snitch, there was still a chance the Gryffindors could win: Malfoy was just trying to psyche him out. Harry smirked. Two could play at that game.

"Well, if they do, it'll only be because of your expert playing." Harry smiled and Malfoy frowned, blushing furiously. He squinted in Harry's direction, trying to figure out if he was joking.

"What are you playing at, Potter?" Malfoy asked, his tone cautious. His face was twisted into a sort of half-sneer, as if he couldn't decide whether to be irritated with Harry or not.

"Nothing, nothing at all," Harry lied. Just then, he spotted the snitch just beyond Malfoy's left shoulder and smiled. "You know, your hair sort of shines in the sunlight." The blonde boy instinctively glanced up and ran a hand over his gelled back hair. "It's not a bad look on you." Malfoy's face darkened to nearly a shade of purple and Harry was satisfied. It would take him at least a few seconds to recover from Harry's compliment.

Without wasting an instant, Harry dived to Malfoy's left and began to chase after the snitch. He didn't look behind him, but he assumed Malfoy was just now realizing what Harry had been up to, given that he heard an angry voice shout "Potter!" over the wind buzzing in his ears.

Unfortunately for Malfoy, it was too late. The snitch was only a few inches out of Harry's reach. He leaned forward and secured his fingers around the tiny gold ball, winning the game for the Gryffindor team.

Harry did a victory lap around the field, feeling especially smug about beating Malfoy, before returning to the ground.

"I knew you wouldn't let me down, Harry." Ginny patted him on the back once he hit the ground.

"I don't think I could've lived with myself if I'd let Malfoy win." Harry smirked and spared a backwards glance towards the other end of the pitch, where the Slytherin boy looked as if he was being reprimanded by the rest of the opposing team. He felt a twinge of guilt in his stomach, but he ignored it and instead turned back towards his own team. "Celebration in the Gryffindor common room?" Harry suggested.

A collective cheer sprang up from the team. They all changed out of their Quidditch gear and headed up to Gryffindor tower, where they interrupted a few studying fifth years with all their excitement. The fifth years got up, grumbling, and left the common room for the library. Harry would feel bad, but the Gryffindor common room was rarely a good place to study; the fifth years should've known that by now.

"I'm assuming from all the noise that you won the match?" Hermione asked, standing at the edge of the staircase. She spoke mostly to Ron, but she also glanced over at Harry and Ginny.

"Yeah," Ron said, rather breathlessly. He'd been whooping and screaming all the way up the stairs. "It was wicked. Harry saved all our arses. He's the best Seeker Hogwarts has ever seen!" The team murmured in agreement.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of celebration. At some point, Dean returned from the dormitory with a rather large bottle of firewhiskey, but most people didn't indulge; they didn't want to risk showing up to dinner drunk. Harry also declined, knowing that he had a detention later that night. Although, he briefly considered taking part; dealing with Malfoy would probably be a lot easier drunk.

Eventually, it was nearly seven o'clock, and it was time for Harry to head down to the Potions classroom for his detention. He bid the rest of the partygoers ado and reluctantly left Gryffindor tower.

Malfoy was already there when Harry arrived, shuffling through a stack of papers. For once, the blonde seemed relaxed, unbothered, content even. Harry stayed at the corner of the classroom and watched him for a moment, curiosity overwhelming his mind.

After seven years of knowing the boy, Harry assumed he knew Malfoy fairly well. He knew that he got up in arms any time anyone mentioned his family; he knew that Malfoy's upper lip twitched slightly whenever he was about to insult someone; and there was his latest discovery that Malfoy's ears were a clear indicator of his moods. He knew exactly what Malfoy looked like when he was angry, defensive, boasting, depressed, and in pain. But now that he was thinking about it, Harry had no clue what Malfoy was like when he was happy; not when he'd won a fight or landed an especially hurtful insult, but what he looked like when he was really, truly happy.

Malfoy wasn't happy now, but he didn't seem unhappy either, Harry observed. He let his eyes wander over Malfoy's face, memorizing every inch of his expression. He noticed that when the Slytherin boy wasn't snarling or sneering, he wasn't unattractive. Actually, Harry reluctantly admitted to himself, Malfoy was rather handsome. He'd never seen it before, but with his sharp jaw that softened at the edges, his strong upturned nose, his high sculpted cheekbones, and smokey grey eyes, Malfoy was easily one of the most attractive students at Hogwarts.

Harry's eyes widened as he realized what he was thinking and shook his head as if trying to rid himself of his thoughts. He cleared his throat, but when Malfoy's peaceful expression fell as soon as he saw Harry, he instantly regretted making his presence known.

"Slughorn not here yet?" Harry attempted to ask casually, but for some reason his voice felt raspy.

"He's been here and gone." Malfoy glared at Harry, his face hard. "You're late, you know."

"Sorry," Harry muttered, immediately questioning why he was apologizing to Draco Malfoy of all people. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to get his wits about him. "The party up in Gryffindor tower went a bit long," Harry said, smirking at the way that Malfoy's face contorted with jealousy.

"Celebrating a bloody practice match?" The blonde boy scoffed. "That's pathetic. Taking the only chance to celebrate you can get, since you know that you'll lose the real match?"

"Watch it Malfoy," Harry retorted, forgetting about his new strategy for messing with the Slytherin boy. Unfortunately, Malfoy actually relaxed at Harry's response and settled more comfortably into his seat.

"Slughorn gave us these to grade before you arrived," Malfoy said, passing over a stack of parchments to Harry. He sat down and started looking through the papers. Great, Harry thought to himself. First year potions essays. "And just so you know," Malfoy added, eyes glinting dangerously. "I would have beat you if you didn't play dirty. I thought the Golden Boy was above such cheap tactics, but I suppose I'll have to reevaluate now."

"Whatever do you mean?" Harry blinked innocently. "It's not my fault you got distracted."

"You know, regardless of what you might think, Potter," Malfoy snarled. "I didn't buy my way onto the Slytherin team." He sat up in his seat, the few inches he had on Harry now becoming evident. "I'm a fantastic seeker. I'd venture to say I'm even better than you, though that's not saying much." His stormy eyes were bright and fierce, and his pointed features were sharpened even further by his anger. Harry watched the muscle in his jaw tense while he gritted his teeth.

"You're cute when you're angry," Harry said, smirking and making a point to look Malfoy up and down. He internally winced at the fact that he was hitting on Malfoy, but the Slytherin's reaction was well worth it. The blonde's eyes widened and his mouth fell open. He quickly shut it and started to blink rapidly, a bright red flush coloring his cheeks and ears.

"Wh-what?" he stuttered, leaning back and away from Harry.

"I said," Harry moved in closer. "You're cute when you're angry."

"I-you… but…" Malfoy stood up rather abruptly, shaking the table, and took a step backwards. "Why would you say that?" he shouted. Malfoy huffed and moved to the other side of the room, making a point of avoiding Harry's eyes.

Harry grinned. Yes, flirting with Malfoy was admittedly odd and a little bit humiliating when he stopped to think about it, but seeing the Slytherin boy that flustered was worth that price.