Draco Malfoy and his Unknown Fate:
Author's Notes: Here's the next chapter! I didn't take the time to outline the Quidditch game because 1) it's from Draco's point of view and he's too busy looking for the snitch to pay attention and 2) who really cares? Anyway, I hope you enjoy. And, thanks for the reviews everyone!
Warnings for this chapter: None.
Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being. This will be slash (eventually). Don't like it? Don't read it. Otherwise, enjoy.
Draco adored Quidditch matches. He loved the game for itself, but the matches were an entirely different matter and wonderful in a completely different way. Dressed to the nines in his tailored Quidditch uniform, Draco sauntered onto the pitch in all his Slytherin glory. His hair was slicked back even more than usual to prevent any flyaway wisps from distracting him or impairing his vision and his protective leather gear was oiled to a shine. Gasps sounded in the crowd as everyone got their first glimpse of his new Quicksilver. The broom was made of pale, highly polished birch and the brand name and serial number was engraved in silver on the handle. He could feel the sun beating down on him and knew, with vain certainty, that it made both his hair and broom glow brilliantly.
Draco was reveling in all the attention, flashing a wicked smirk at the crowd as he walked to the center of the pitch with his team. He felt dwarfed by his bulkier teammates, though he had grown considerably in comparison to the short scrawny boy he'd been in second year. He was flanked on either side by Crabbe and Goyle, the Slytherin beaters, whose bulk only emphasized his smaller stature. Their new Keeper, Pritchard was from a younger year and the only one on the team who didn't tower over Draco. He exchanged a grin with Draco before they turned their attention to the lecturing Madame Hooch who kept shooting the Slytherins meaningful looks whenever she mentioned fair play. The Ravenclaws across from them were listening intently, conditioned to absorb any scrap of information no matter how trivial or useless.
Draco could feel hundreds of eyes on him and relished the sensation of being the center of attention. It shifted slightly when the Captains stepped forward, Davies and Pucey shaking hands amiably enough. The cheering echoed through the stadium and died down quickly. Then the match was on and Draco took to the skies on his Quicksilver, moving through the air easily. The Quicksilver was beautifully responsive and luckily Snape had given him permission to practice on it after hours so that he'd been able to accustom himself to it after years of flying a slower broom. He flashed Chang a cocky smirk and darted off towards the middle of the pitch where he started surveying the area for any sudden flashes of gold. In the background Dean Thomas droned on, far more unbiased than Jordan had ever been. And less engaging, but Draco didn't really care as long as he didn't bash the Slytherin team so blatantly.
Chang appeared on Draco's left, floating in mid air and squinting about vainly in search of the Snitch. Draco ducked an incoming bludger from a Ravenclaw beater and spiraled down in a quick, tight corkscrew dive that his old Nimbus 2001 could never have pulled off. He leveled out neatly, unable to contain his exuberant grin at the perfect execution, and made his way towards the side of the pitch just in time to avoid Goyle's attempt to hit Chang with another bludger. The Ravenclaw Seeker rolled away in time, though her team still got a penalty shot for it.
Draco circled his way around the pitch while Chang, still shaken, gathered herself. He flew past the Slytherin tower to the delight of the giggling third year girls. Pansy whistled at him loudly from the stands and Draco did a little pirouette on his broom for her, which made the younger girls squeal. He made sure to flash Potter a gloating smirk as he passed by the Gryffindor seats. He also managed to ignore the hissing Ravenclaws. He spent a lot of time circling the pitch in search of that annoying little golden winged ball, wondering when the damn thing would finally make an appearance. The two teams were almost even in points at the moment, though the Slytherin Keeper looked like he was starting to tire slightly.
Then Draco saw a flash of something out of the corner of his eye and whipped around, setting off towards the snitch so quickly his eyes grew wet from the harsh wind the movement caused. The snitch fluttered for a moment as Draco neared it and then zoomed off with the Slytherin Seeker right behind it. Chang had caught sight of Draco's quick darting movements and followed on his tail a whole broom length behind. The snitch veered downwards and Draco followed it relentlessly, diving after it at break neck speeds. The Ravenclaw Seeker pushed her broom to the limits, drawing even with Draco's elbow as they made their way downwards. Draco reached out, griping his broomstick tightly between his legs and snapped his broom to the side using the well toned muscles of his thighs, stomach, arse, and lower back to propel himself into a diagonal sweep in a completely different trajectory that brought him forward just enough to grasp the dodging snitch.
Whooping loudly, he made a jaunty little loop and held up the winged ball fluttering in his gloved grip. The Slytherins roared their approval, Pansy's shrill catcalls echoing loudly in the stadium. Chang, still stuck in her original dive, slowed down and landed with a grimace. Draco followed in one long, showy spiral. The celebration at winning the first game of the season would probably last until the wee hours of the morning. As Draco's teammates clapped him on the back and playfully carried him on their broad, hulking shoulders he couldn't help but think it was a good omen of the things to come the rest of the year.
To be Continued
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