NOTE: Chapter 3 completed much sooner then expected. Please review!
-blondkellycrazy
Chapter 3
"Great job Malfoy. Only took five minutes that time. Time to bring out the big guns though, put the pressure on." A whistle sounded and the reserve team took the field, ready to prove they could be starters. Practices had been going great so far. Most of the team was really starting to click together. It seemed Draco wasn't the only replacement Hermione had made however, and that apparently didn't sit well with some of his team mates. Keeper Alaric Deadman had been kicked to the reserve, being replaced with Dillon Horton-Jenkins, who had been a reserve player for the Pride of Portree.
It was Thursday, the first Thursday for flying lessons. Normally, the team wouldn't be scrimmaging on a Thursday but all the reserves were here for a final once over this afternoon, no doubt at Hermione's request. So they got into position, awaited the whistle and the quaffle was tossed in the air. Draco kept himself above the drama taking place below. Bluggers were flying everywhere, being smacked wildly towards the chasers. Draco could see why the teams' record last season was little to be proud of. This was not a functioning whole unit. Sure the main squad was tight and beginning to work well together, but it appeared the reserve team was out for blood. He was all for the teams motto, 'Let us win, but if we cannot win, let us break a few heads' but that shouldn't apply to one's own team.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Galvin Gudgeon the reserve seeker whose place he had taken, take a dive towards the pitch. He seemed to have the snitch in his sights. Draco darted after him, pushing his Nimbus to the limit. He dropped his broom forward at a sharp 90 degree angle, headed straight towards the pitch, gaining on Gudgeon. Feeling the pressure, Gudgeon took a wide swing to the left with his old Cleensweep and came plowing back into Draco's left shoulder. It threw him off balance for just a moment, but it was able to recover with ease. Leaning as far forward on his broom as he could, he pulled away from Gudgeon, still hurdling towards the pitch. Turning his head back over his shoulder, Draco saw Gudgeon go wide eyed and pull up, not daring to come any closer to the pitch. Draco gave a smirk and pulled a play right out of Potter's book. He pulled his broom up meters from the ground, leveling out by placing his feet on the broom.
Hermione walked out to the pitch and what she saw make her stomach drop. Draco Malfoy was literally surfing on his broom in pursuit of the snitch during a scrimmage. A scrimmage for Christ's sake! She dared to turn her attention away from Draco for just a moment to watch her reserve beater, Michael McManus, lay into a blugger aimed right at her star chaser Avery Hawksworth, who was currently focused on Malfoy's stunt. She stormed over to coach Harry O'Kelly, grabbed the whistle still around his neck and blew hard. All movement stopped. The whistle was loud and high pitched, causing Draco to lose his balance and topple forward off his broom, no snitch in hand. He gave a grumble from the ground as the rest of the team came over and circled above. It wasn't often that Granger was on the pitch for practice. It seemed the rest of the team had not been informed of her arrangement with Draco.
"What do you imbeciles think you're doing? I've never seen a more idiotic group of men try to play Quidditch in my life!" As a collective group, the men began to argue and point blame at each other. From his place on the ground, Draco rolled his eyes. 'Great! How the bloody hell I'm I supposed to turn this mess around and win the World Cup? At this rate, we won't even make it to the quarter finals…'
"I'm not interested in you half arsed excuses gentlemen. I suggest you remove yourselves from the air and give me a five mile run and for Gods sake someone get Malfoy off the ground and grab him a bag of ice!" There was a collective groan from the team as they began to slowly do as they were told however, Hermione sent a hard glare in their direction.
"I want that run completed before anyone goes to lunch. You finish as a team or no one eats. Is that understood?" She pointedly looked towards O'Kelly, who perked up and blew the whistle, hollering at the men to pick up the pace. Field assistants were getting Malfoy up off the pitch. They'd wrapped an ice bag around his waist to try and relax his back. Hermione placed her head in her hand and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.
"Nigel," clipboard in hand Nigel came rushing over to Hermione's side. "Can you please make sure Malfoy will be okay to play next week? Also, we are going to have to clear my schedule. It's become glaringly apparent that the team needs more work than originally anticipated, couch O'Kelly included. It'll be all hands on deck if we're going to stand a chance against Puddlemere." She pulled her curly locks up into a bun and grabbed her meeting binder from Nigel. With Nigel tending to Malfoy and finding fill ins for the rest of her meetings for the next week, she would have to skip the flying lesson today. Not that Malfoy was in any state to give her one. She couldn't complain though. A Malfoy free afternoon with her feet planted firmly on the ground sounded like a perfect day to her. On her way back in, she acquired the teams playbook from one of the assistant coaches. If she was going to make this team a winner as she was hired to do, she was going to have to learn the ins and outs of the game.