Chapter Two
The Youth Quidditch League of England
Part II
Monday night came and Draco took the floo network to the pitch for practice. He wandered around the pitch trying to find his teammates but it seemed they hadn't arrived yet. Just like Potter to be late, he thought as he leaned up against the side of the pitch and waited.
It was a few minutes to five when Potter and the Weasley girl finally showed up, but they weren't alone. Bagman was walking with them in Draco's direction. Bagman greeted Draco hospitably, "I saw your game on Saturday Mr. Malfoy, and I must say I expected better from the two best seekers at Hogwarts than what I saw. And I think you know what the problem is." He looked at Draco with raised eyebrows but wasn't expecting a response. "The three of you, one, two, three," he pointed as he went along, "Didn't play as a team. You didn't pass to each other, you didn't defend together, I really can't think of anything you did as a team besides wear the robes." There was a very disappointed look on Bagman's face and they all lowered their heads a little. What was he feeling sorry for, it was Potter who hadn't passed the ball? Draco's eyes darted around, trying to make sense of things. He hadn't passed either though and he'd made a complete fool of himself as he chased after each player with the ball. He had let a school rivalry come between him and winning. Between him and playing a game right. He didn't know which was more important, winning or his dislike of Potter.
"Well no need to be so depressed, I'm here to fix the problem." Bagman smiled cheerfully as they all looked up from their thoughts. He did seem to have confidence in himself, Draco thought, maybe he could pull this off.
Bagman started with a half an hour of warm ups. Flying up, flying down, veering left, veering right, looping this way and that. They followed him all around their end of the pitch mimicking whatever he did. The three of them flew one behind the other in alphabetical: order Draco, Ginny, and then Harry. Next Bagman lined them up in the "V" formation he had shown them the week before. Harry in the center with Draco on his right hand side and Ginny on his left. Bagman flew them around the pitch in a circle, flying behind them and calling names. "Pass to Ginny, Pass to Harry, Pass to Draco, Pass to Ginny, Pass to Draco, Pass to Harry." They must have went around the field a hundred times, and by the end of it each of their arms felt like it was going to fall off, but Bagman wasn't finished.
He taught them a new play, one that required as much team work as Draco used playing for Slytherin. The play started in the "V" formation, Potter had the ball. Draco cut left and Potter handed him the quaffle, which Draco holds as tight to him as possible so that it seems Potter still has control of the ball. Potter swoops to his right, underneath Ginny, around the back of the formation and into Draco's spot. The three burst forward and dive underneath each other and cross paths, at which point Draco hands Potter the quaffle back. Bagman called this the English Star Burst. Weasley now speeds forward, Draco holds back, Potter passes the quaffle to him and he wings it up the field to Weasley who puts it through the hoop.
The play could be run as many times as time allowed in one game, each time changing it just a little. Having Potter start by cutting left instead of Draco cutting right. Draco going up field after the star burst instead of Weasley.
By the end of the practice the three of them had this play down like they had been born with it imprinted in their brains. They could run it any way possible, one of them would call two names. The first name was in reference to who started with the ball and cut left, or right. The second name was the person who shot forward after the star burst and scored the point.
At the end Bagman gathered them all in a half circle on the ground, "You guys did a good job today, a complete 180. I'm going to help you out the next two days, show you a bunch of new plays that you'll pick right up now that the basics are laid. If Saturdays game goes well, then I'll leave you to it, and you can start practicing to be captains." He smiled briefly, "Well, best be off then. See you on Wednesday." He picked up the discarded quaffle and his broom and walked off towards another group.
Draco collapsed against the wall. In all the years he'd been playing seeker for Slytherin he had never practiced that hard. His robes, which had been clean when he started the practice, were so soaked with sweat that it looked as if he'd jumped into a lake. "That practice was bloody hard."
Potter cast him a glare, "Watch your language Malfoy." He nodded in Weasley's direction. How sweet, Draco thought, he's trying to protect the sensitive ears of his girlfriend.
Draco just rolled his eyes and shook his head. "You mean that you thought that practice was easy?" He laughed, "Yeah right Potter, even you and your Gryffindor buddies don't practice that hard. The man's crazy."
Potter was taken back, "I didn't say I thought the practice was easy, I said watch your mouth. And Bagman is not crazy, he's just hard working."
Draco laughed again, "You mean working us hard. All he does is fly around and tell us which plays to run. The definition of a task master, Potter, is Mr. Bagman. I should have known though, his brother's nuts too."
Draco suddenly realized something, he was having a conversation with Harry Potter, Scar Head. All the practicing and team work must have gotten to him, what was he thinking. This was the same boy that had cursed him unconscious on the train just weeks before.
Potter seemed to realize what Draco was thinking as well. He closed his mouth and narrowed his eyes, a questioning look in them. They stood there, no words passing between them, only confused looks and silent questions with no answers. "Well, I, ah, I guess I'll see you on Wednesday, Malfoy." Potter's glare was not nearly as strong as before, and even his words were spoken awkwardly.
"Goodbye Potter, see you and your girlfriend later." Draco tried to sound hateful, but his voice wasn't working properly. His drawl wasn't noticeable at all. Someone must have cast a spell at him while they were practicing. He cursed Bagman silently, if he hadn't been working them so hard he would have seen his attacker.
The two groups spun around quickly and stormed off in opposite directions. Potter and Weasley in the same way that Bagman had left, and Draco towards a fireplace in the rear. They tried to storm as if they had just come face to face with the Anti-Christ, but neither one was very convincing. What had passed between him and Potter, Draco thought? It had seemed almost friendly. Whatever it was it was all because of that spell, and it must have been a powerful spell if could make him act friendly towards Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived.
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The week went by slowly for Draco. He slept as much as his Mother let him, being forced awake for company. When he wasn't sleeping or entertaining he sat in his room and read. He was intrigued by a muggle book he had found, Faust by Goethe. He could relate the entire story to his family, replacing Satan with Voldemort. In the background Draco played his favorite classical. His ears perked upon the beginning of a movement he enjoyed more than the rest and he could feel his hand moving with the notes. He enjoyed the music, it seemed to sooth him as only music and Quidditch could.
Since it was Saturday morning, Narcissa had went out to be with her friends. They did this almost every Saturday. They went out to a different social club of England and socialized for most of the afternoon until it was time for dinner. For dinner they would go to a different person's house every weekend. Today they were going somewhere other than the Manor, and for this Draco was thankful.
He woke up around noon and crawled out of bed. The elves had left the Daily Prophet on his desk, neat and crisp just as they did every morning. He pulled on his morning robe and sat down in his red leather arm chair to read the news. The small metal pieces which were embroidered into the chair were cold against his skin but he took no notice as he read the headline of the front page, ~~~
Hundreds of Exiled Giants Spotted
All across the countryside of the continent, hundreds of exiled giants from the nearby mountains have been seen fleeing from an unknown threat. Over the past week close to two hundred giants have been identified, almost all former and suspected supporters of You-Know-Who.
Witnesses say the giants have seemed more agitated than usual and fear for their lives. The giants took refuge in the mountains after the disappearance of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, who they were close allies with. Over the years many have tried to bring the exiled giants to justice but almost all of the giants have been killed in small skirmishes between aurors.
The appearance of so many giants wanted for questioning brings up questions of its own. Who are the giant fleeing from? Has the Ministry took up the task of finally rounding up the last of the free giants or have the giants gained a new enemy in the mountains? When one witness, Rubeus Hagrid, Care of Magical Creatures Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, approached and questioned one of the fleeing giants and ask what they were so scared of that they would risk being caught and prosecuted, the giant refused to answer. "He'll kill us all if we tell. He'll kill us all." The giant was heard screaming this as he continued on through the town after Mr. Hagrid posed the question we are all wondering.
~~~
The Article went on for some length about the history of the giants and why people had feared them and listed some of the more famous ones. Draco had read all this before or heard it from his Father and he threw the paper back onto his desk. What could all this mean, Draco thought? If the Ministry was trying to round them all up, they would have said something. Trust in the Minister had been falling now since the escape of Sirius Black two years ago. The Ministry would have made it public knowledge if they were trying to do something right. What did Draco care if all the giants were scared, that was over in France and was affecting the rest of Europe not England. He pushed himself out of the armchair and headed downstairs for some breakfast. He didn't bother to change, he liked his silk pajamas.
The house was unnaturally quiet. His footsteps echoed in the hall as his slippers trod on the polished wood floors. There were no house elves in sight, they skirted around the edge of the halls avoiding their masters. What was going on, Draco thought?
He entered into the kitchen and stopped dead. He was greeted by something of a disturbing site. His mother was pacing around in circles, throwing cold stares at the elves and occasionally kicking one that couldn't get out of her path quickly enough. Draco had never seen his Mother this upset over something before. And the fact that she was not out socializing made him very curious.
He walked the rest of the way into the kitchen, "What is so troubling that it would make the woman who associates with Voldemort pace like she is trying to trod a circle into the marble?" He grinned a very devilish grin at his wit.
His Mother was not impressed. She stopped pacing and gave him a stare that could kill. Her hatred for him and for his attempt at humor seemed to burn in her eyes like lightning. "It's none of your business what's bothering me, young man. And you are not eating breakfast like that. Go and change into some clothes." A look of extreme disgust had come across her face as she indicated Draco's pajamas, which she had given him only last Christmas. It wasn't like she had bought them, probably one of the servants had picked them out.
Draco turned around and went to go and put on some robes. He hadn't found out what she was angry about, he had annoyed her, and he was now forced to change out of his comfortable attire. Some days it didn't pay to get out of bed, Draco thought. His room was warm and he decided that he would take a shower as well before he went back downstairs. He finished and was picking out a robe. He hated the fact that his Father detested all Muggle clothing. All Draco really wanted to wear was his favorite black pants and matching silk shirt, but because his Father considered them Muggle he would have to wait until he was back at Hogwarts.
His fire had gone out while he was in the bathroom and so he lit it quickly before leaving for breakfast a second time. The hallways were just as cold as usual and they carried his Mother's voice up from the kitchen. She was speaking quickly to someone and she was obviously keeping her voice down. Draco slowed his pace and tried to walk as quietly as he could the rest of the way up the hall.
He stopped at the very edge of the door and tried to tune his ears into what his Mother was saying. He couldn't make out the muffled words. He peered cautiously into the kitchen and saw her crouched down in front of the fire, but he couldn't see who she was talking to. It sounded as if she were wrapping it up, "Okay, be careful then. I'll be expecting them. Goodbye." With a pop, whoever had been in the fire was now gone and his Mother straightened up.
"Who were you talking to Mother." Draco's cold voice cut through the air as he stepped into the kitchen. It took his Mother by surprise and she jumped. Draco grinned at having frightened her. "Who were you talking to?" He asked again in case she had forgotten the question. He spoke the words slowly and sternly. He tried to speak them as his Father would. He wanted to know what was going on, and he wanted to know now.
Her look of shock quickly turned to annoyance and anger. "Have you been eavesdropping? I should beat you like your Father beat that stupid elf Dobby. No more questions this morning. Now go and eat breakfast in the dining room and then you're to stay in your room the rest of the day. I have important company coming over and I want you out of site."
The look on her face was very cold, but there was a very small hint of question as well. As if she were asking to herself whether or not he had heard who she had been talking too, and whether or not he had recognized the person.
Draco tried to pierce her thoughts, but the look hardened over and she pointed in the direction of the dining room. He now noticed that the kitchen had become bare of all elves. It must have been someone quite important if she had sent them away while she talked. But why hadn't she just used a more private fireplace?
He sat down at the long oak table and a house elf quickly brought him out a tray full of breakfast foods. He took off the silver top and was thinking as he ate. Who was so important that his Mother didn't want to show him off to? If the Minister of Magic had shown up, his Mother would undoubtedly introduce him at least once. It must not be someone important, it must be someone secret. Maybe it was the same person she'd been talking to in the fire.
He finished his breakfast, and followed his Mother's wishes by heading to his room. He closed the door softly and then he walked over to his armoire. "Wingardium Leviosa!" It levitated slightly above the floor and he directed it away from the wall several feet before setting it down gently. Hidden from view was a very fine crack in the wall. "Alohomora!" The crack in the wall revealed to be a small door and Draco quickly ducked his head and entered, shutting it softly behind him.
"Lumos!" His wand lit up and showed that he was now in a dark passageway that ran between the walls. He had used these in his younger years to sneak around the house. He found it quite by accident. His Father had locked him in his room because he'd found Draco in his study looking through his books. He was so angry with his Father at locking him in that he screamed a one of the spells he'd read, "Alohomora!" He hadn't known what the spell was for and when he'd shouted it, his armoire had tumbled over and revealed the hidden doorway. Neither his Father nor his Mother knew that he had found the passage, although he was quite sure they were aware of it themselves.
He followed the dark stone throughway. On either side of him were slits for watching rooms and small brass rings to pull open doors similar to the one in his own room. He had wandered these so often, and had tried every ring and slit that he knew where each one led. There was one for almost every room to the house. Every room of course that Draco knew about. There were secret chambers in Malfoy Manor, just as in the castle at Howarts. Draco found that his Mother was no longer in the kitchen or the dining room. The guests must have arrived already, Draco thought? He quickened his pace and headed in the direction of the sitting room.
He slowed as he became closer and tried to make as little noise as possible, the walls were thick, but sounds echoed and Draco had nearly been caught several times due to carelessness. He found the slit he wanted and pressed his face against it. This slit looked out through a painting of a large Malfoy family crest that hung on the wall. The crest was transparent on one side and the slit was completely invisible unless the painting removed.
He saw his Mother and two men he did not know standing in a tight group against the opposite wall. The men wore long black traveling cloaks that looked to have stains of some sort on them. Each one also had a sword strapped to his hip. Although Draco could see neither of their faces, he could tell by the white masks they held that they were Death Eaters. It was no wonder his Mother had wanted him to stay in his room. His Father desired more than anything for Draco to wear the same mask and mark he did, but he was not stupid enough to let his son hear privileged information before he had sworn his life to Voldemort.
The three looked to be talking in hushed voices but try as Draco might he could not catch one sound coming from the adjacent room. He put his ear against the wall and tried to listen as hard as possible, but still he heard no sound. The conspirators must have taken precautions and set up wards before beginning their business.
He stayed and watched for a long while, hoping at least to catch a glimse of one of the men's faces, but neither one moved the entire time. Finally it appeared that the conversation was coming to a close, all three nodded and then the two men bowed low to his Mother, replaced their masks, and disapparated. His Mother waved her wand and at once Draco became aware that he could hear the clock ticking next to him again. Draco watched his Mother leave the sitting room and then he headed back towards his own room. The feeling he had was one not of success or failure. A few of his questions had been answered, but many more had now been asked. Who were the two men? What part did his Mother play in all of this? She was definitely no Death Eater, she did not bear their mark. But perhaps all of his servants did not have the skull and snake tattoo plainly visible, thought Draco. If each one simple had one branded on their forearm the Ministry could then roll up the sleeves of all those they suspected. That had not been the case fifteen years ago, and it would most likely not be the case now. Could his Mother be a Death Eater? His Father was one, and he wanted Draco to become one, it made sense therefore that he would wish his wife to be loyal to the same master. Perhaps she was just the messenger though, she didn't seem the type that was capable of cold blooded murder.
Draco pushed open the door that led to his room and replaced the armoire. He sat down in his arm chair to think. There was really nothing he could do either way, he would just have to wait and see what his Father had planned. Until then, Draco had to concentrate on his studies. He had still yet to open his books and start on his summer homework.
He let out a long sigh. He would never become like his Father, he was no one's servant, he was his own master and would not be swayed to follow Voldemort. He wanted to play Quidditch, eat feasts, and be with friends. He wanted to be with friends he didn't have. It was then that he made a decision, he would find within Hogwarts a companion that school year. Someone he could trust with anything, someone he could laugh with, and cry with perhaps. Someone he could get into trouble with and stay up late at night talking to. Someone he could go to for guidance about his troubled family life.
He pulled his gaze from the window. Yes, he thought, that would be his goal this coming year. And with that he got up out of his arm chair and began on his homework, choosing to do the hardest, History, and save Potions or later. He brought his head up from the parchment, perhaps Professor Snape knew of someone who might be all the things Draco wanted? He made a mental note to ask upon his return to Hogwarts. Until then, his studies, his carriage away from Malfoy Manor, awaited.
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It was finally Saturday and Draco felt that this week there was no way the Knights were going to lose. The team had practiced an extra hour by themselves on both Wednesday and Friday. Each one had played "captain" for twenty minutes, working on whatever they felt they needed. Draco thought they should work on shooting, Harry thought they should work on plays, and Ginny thought they needed more work passing.
The conversation was light and they worked themselves tired. The whole time they tried not to think about the fact that they were suppose to hate each other, to be enemies not teammates. Their progress was amazing, if someone had seen their first game, they would not recognize the Knights as the same team. This only proved further that Draco and Harry were some of the best Quidditch players England had seen.
Whenever Draco had been flying this summer, after the first week, he had felt a certain calm come over him. It was almost as if nothing else mattered, not his parents, not his name, not his house at Hogwarts, and not his rivalries. He was beginning to think that Potter was feeling the same way, he had been acting almost pleasant. He asked Draco questions about plays, and gave him helpful hints on techniques he had read about. Realizing this Draco realized something else, he hadn't called Potter scar head all week, and when he thought about Potter, there was no rage, no urge to kill him. Draco didn't ponder these thoughts for long. He knew that if he did, the old feelings would come rushing back, and he was enjoying these new sensations, the new calm.
Draco shook his head hard, he didn't have time to think about all these things. He threw his purple robe over his head quickly and grabbed his broom from the corner. He had cleaned and trimmed it again last night, he wanted this game to go right. He took a pinch of floo powder from the stand on his desk and pitched it into his fire and left for the Quidditch field. The pitch came into view and Draco bolted from the hearth, he only had five minutes before the game was supposed to start. He found his field and saw that Potter and the Weasley girl were already in the air warming up.
With a small leap he threw the broom into the air while at the same time mounting it. It shot out and towards his teammates. Potter had spotted him coming and stopped where he flew to wait. "Almost thought you weren't going to show."
There was a half smile on his face, not an evil one, or a sarcastic one, just a smile, and Draco found that he returned this smile without hesitation. "You wish, Potter." The words flowed out naturally, there was neither spite nor a drawl. The referee came out then and the four now waited for the other team to show up. It was only a few minutes when three very scawny, very scared boys who looked to be only in third year came onto the field. Draco smiled and leaned a little closer to Potter, "It looks like they match our future games with our previous games."
Harry got the jist of this but Ginny looked confused. "It means that since we lost the game by so much last week, they think our team is bad and they matched us up against s team who they thought would be more equal." Ginny seemed to understand what Harry was saying now, but there was a still a blank expression on her face. "What's the matter, Gin?"
She looked from their opponents to the referee, there was a look of pity on her face. "Well, I feel a little bad for the other team that's all. They look scared enough, after today they'll probably never play Quidditch again."
This was too much for Draco and Potter. Each cracked up laughing, full hearty laughs. "Well aren't we a little smug?" Draco had time to say. Potter smiled as he laughed, "Yes just because you're playing with the two best seekers at Hogwarts doesn't mean anything." He laughed more. They laughed so hard that they nearly lost their balance and fell off their brooms. Ginny shot them both a stern look, one to try and make them stop. "It's not funny, I'm being serious." But this only made the two laugh harder.
It was finally the referee's voice that brought them back to where they were. "Are you two going to hang around up there all day laughing, or play Quidditch?" He didn't look too impress with the behavior. Draco and Harry choked off the last of their laughter and flew down to the waiting four.
"I want a good clean game from both teams. The bludger is already up. Mount your brooms and when you hear my whistle you may leave the ground." The six mounted their brooms as the ref told them too and waited anxiously. He released the quaffle and it soared up, there was a shrill whistle and the game began. The six flew quickly into the air. Draco, Ginny and Harry wove in and out of each other path's, as Bagman had shown them, this was to confuse their opponents. Harry grabbed the quaffle and circled once across the line into his half to re-group. They formed the now familiar V pattern and charged into the offensive zone. They passed the ball quickly in between each other, further confusing the other team. The other team didn't quite know what to do and the Knights flew right past them. Draco carried the quaffle, Ginny was getting set up to speed past the hoop. Draco flung it fast for the spot Ginny was headed. She caught it and released it so fast it looked as if she hadn't touched it at all, just decided to change direction. The quaffle soared through the goal without a sound making the score ten to zero.
The tallest of the three boys on the opposing team retrieved the quaffle. They grouped very tight together and tried to speed off as Draco and Harry had, but their brooms were too slow. While Ginny waited towards the side of the field, Draco and Harry circled the slow moving group. The ball was still with the center boy, Draco dove for him once, he dodged easily, and right into the dive of Harry. Harry snatched the quaffle and tossed it far across to Ginny, who zipped up the field for another easy score.
The small boys now tried a different approach. They spread themselves out in a large V formation and flew towards the other end. They passed the quaffle hard amd high over head to one another. The tact lasted a little while, but finally after one toss Draco put on a burst of speed and intercepted in mid pass. He didn't wait for Harry or Ginny, but sped down the field and got his first goal of the game. The Horse Men, the three scrawny boys who resembled worms rather than horses, had hardly time to turn their brooms around before Draco scored.
Ginny's prediction was coming true, and the Horse Men's spirits were falling. Their plays were becoming ridiculous and they were losing the quaffle faster and more often. Finally they resorted to simply defending their goal. The three young boys set up a wall in front of their one hoop. The hoop was quite large though and they didn't quite cover the whole space. The three moved back and forth following the ball, trying to protect the open part from a shot. This new tactic left the Knights to pass the quaffle rapidly between the three of them. They moved the ball faster than the Horse Men could move back and forth and many shots opened up. Who ever had the qauffle when an opening occurred took the shot. Most of the shots were good and they became goals. After a goal the Horse Men would pick up the ball and throw it as far as they could down field and wait for whoever retrieved it to come back and try to score again. After a while the Knights stopped trying so hard. The score was 170 to 0 and they none of them seemed to feel right to keep trying to score as vigorously. Even Draco seemed to become a little bored with the game. The three boys on the other team were anything but bored. They looked very scared actually and they became very jumpy when anyone took a shot.
There were only a few minutes left in the game and the three were just sitting on their brooms waiting for the referee to signal the end. Draco had the quaffle and was tossing it from hand to hand while Ginny and Harry talked quietly to each other. Draco shook his head as he watched them whisper. The red head gave off a small high pitched giggle, she must have thought something Potter said was funny. It was disgusting him. He was just turning his head back to the hoop to take a shot when out of his eye he saw a glint of black flash in the direction the other two were sitting. He jerked his head around in time to see a bludger fly past him. It was heading straight for the red headed girl. "Weasley, look out!" The girls head popped up and looked in Draco's direction. They widened in shock as she saw the bludger. She wasn't going to have time to get out of the way. Draco dropped the quaffle and pressed his broom as tight as he could against his body. It sped off forward like a shot of lightning. The bludger was shooting forward. Draco pushed himself closer to the broom and came up along side the speeding ball. With a lurch to the side, Draco shouldered the bludger. It's course altered slightly and nicked the tail of Ginny's broom.
The girl was flung forward and plummeted towards the ground. Draco pulled his broom around and shot after her. He could see that Potter had done the same thing but he didn't have the momentum that Draco had already. She was only a few feet from the ground when Draco took both hands off his broom and reached out to catch her. He felt her robes brush against his skin and the weight of her body in his arms. He put his feet out and bent his knees to comfort the shock of the ground rising to meet him. There was a jolt and Draco's descent ended. He swung off his broom and set the dazed girl on her feet. She swayed a little bit and Draco held onto her elbow to support her.
A moment later Potter landed next to them. He put both hands onto her shoulders, "Ginny. Ginny are you okay?" There was fear on his face. Fear that Ginny was hurt. And his eyes were filled with worry.
Ginny nodded her head slowly, still unsure of herself. Her mouth opened and closed trying to form words, "Malfoy,"
she stammered, "Malfoy, he saved me." Harry took her into a big hug, tears flowed down her cheeks.
The referee landed next to the three. "Is everyone alright here?" He looked from one face to another as they all nodded their heads. He let out a long sigh, "Well in that case the game is over. The final score is Knights 170, Horse Men 20. Have a good day."
He picked up the fallen quaffle and walked off the field quickly. Draco could see the other team leaving as well. He couldn't believe they'd scored twice while he was chasing after a bludger and a falling girl. What had made him do either one of those things though, it wasn't his usual behavior? He didn't have to send that bludger off course and he didn't have to go chasing after the girl once she'd fallen. Ordinarily he would have left them both and just turned the other way, or laughed at her misfortune.
He was staring at the ground and realized that the Weasley girl was walking towards the door the referee had just left. Very awkwardly too, he noted to himself. But Potter was still standing there in front of him. Draco looked at him with a quizzical look. They were both standing there in silence a foot apart.
"Umm, Thanks Malfoy. Thanks for helping Ginny back there." The words came out slow and quiet, as if his mouth were dry. There was an unusual expression on his face as well. It was one Draco couldn't quite. It looked like gratitude, but Draco couldn't be sure as he didn't often see this look given to him.
Draco didn't know what to say in response. He stood there for what seemed like an eternity thinking about what Potter had said and what he should say back. Finally he felt he had to say something, anything. He looked up, a confused look in his own eyes now, "You're Welcome." The words flowed from his lips, it made him feel good. He smiled and the dazed look left. "You're welcome Potter." He said it with more confidence, he said it as if he had never said it before, he rarely had.
Potter smiled now as well. It was a full smile, a happy one, and one he had never expected to be giving Draco Malfoy. It quickly faded as he turned to leave but stopped, "See you at Monday's practice." There was confusion on his face again as he finally turned and left the pitch.
Draco turned and walked in the opposite direction, towards the smaller, more private hearth in the back. He picked up his broom. There was a spring in his step. He felt better today than he had all summer, ever for that matter. He felt free, like he felt on his broom. He felt as if he could go anywhere and do anything and no one was going to stop him. He felt that if Voldemort were to show up now, Draco could stand up to fight him and win.
He took a bit of floo powder and tossed it into the fire. "Malfoy Manor." As the flames engorged him, he knew that though it had started off looking grim, it was starting to look up. He might actually have some fun this summer.
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The Youth Quidditch League of England
Part II
Monday night came and Draco took the floo network to the pitch for practice. He wandered around the pitch trying to find his teammates but it seemed they hadn't arrived yet. Just like Potter to be late, he thought as he leaned up against the side of the pitch and waited.
It was a few minutes to five when Potter and the Weasley girl finally showed up, but they weren't alone. Bagman was walking with them in Draco's direction. Bagman greeted Draco hospitably, "I saw your game on Saturday Mr. Malfoy, and I must say I expected better from the two best seekers at Hogwarts than what I saw. And I think you know what the problem is." He looked at Draco with raised eyebrows but wasn't expecting a response. "The three of you, one, two, three," he pointed as he went along, "Didn't play as a team. You didn't pass to each other, you didn't defend together, I really can't think of anything you did as a team besides wear the robes." There was a very disappointed look on Bagman's face and they all lowered their heads a little. What was he feeling sorry for, it was Potter who hadn't passed the ball? Draco's eyes darted around, trying to make sense of things. He hadn't passed either though and he'd made a complete fool of himself as he chased after each player with the ball. He had let a school rivalry come between him and winning. Between him and playing a game right. He didn't know which was more important, winning or his dislike of Potter.
"Well no need to be so depressed, I'm here to fix the problem." Bagman smiled cheerfully as they all looked up from their thoughts. He did seem to have confidence in himself, Draco thought, maybe he could pull this off.
Bagman started with a half an hour of warm ups. Flying up, flying down, veering left, veering right, looping this way and that. They followed him all around their end of the pitch mimicking whatever he did. The three of them flew one behind the other in alphabetical: order Draco, Ginny, and then Harry. Next Bagman lined them up in the "V" formation he had shown them the week before. Harry in the center with Draco on his right hand side and Ginny on his left. Bagman flew them around the pitch in a circle, flying behind them and calling names. "Pass to Ginny, Pass to Harry, Pass to Draco, Pass to Ginny, Pass to Draco, Pass to Harry." They must have went around the field a hundred times, and by the end of it each of their arms felt like it was going to fall off, but Bagman wasn't finished.
He taught them a new play, one that required as much team work as Draco used playing for Slytherin. The play started in the "V" formation, Potter had the ball. Draco cut left and Potter handed him the quaffle, which Draco holds as tight to him as possible so that it seems Potter still has control of the ball. Potter swoops to his right, underneath Ginny, around the back of the formation and into Draco's spot. The three burst forward and dive underneath each other and cross paths, at which point Draco hands Potter the quaffle back. Bagman called this the English Star Burst. Weasley now speeds forward, Draco holds back, Potter passes the quaffle to him and he wings it up the field to Weasley who puts it through the hoop.
The play could be run as many times as time allowed in one game, each time changing it just a little. Having Potter start by cutting left instead of Draco cutting right. Draco going up field after the star burst instead of Weasley.
By the end of the practice the three of them had this play down like they had been born with it imprinted in their brains. They could run it any way possible, one of them would call two names. The first name was in reference to who started with the ball and cut left, or right. The second name was the person who shot forward after the star burst and scored the point.
At the end Bagman gathered them all in a half circle on the ground, "You guys did a good job today, a complete 180. I'm going to help you out the next two days, show you a bunch of new plays that you'll pick right up now that the basics are laid. If Saturdays game goes well, then I'll leave you to it, and you can start practicing to be captains." He smiled briefly, "Well, best be off then. See you on Wednesday." He picked up the discarded quaffle and his broom and walked off towards another group.
Draco collapsed against the wall. In all the years he'd been playing seeker for Slytherin he had never practiced that hard. His robes, which had been clean when he started the practice, were so soaked with sweat that it looked as if he'd jumped into a lake. "That practice was bloody hard."
Potter cast him a glare, "Watch your language Malfoy." He nodded in Weasley's direction. How sweet, Draco thought, he's trying to protect the sensitive ears of his girlfriend.
Draco just rolled his eyes and shook his head. "You mean that you thought that practice was easy?" He laughed, "Yeah right Potter, even you and your Gryffindor buddies don't practice that hard. The man's crazy."
Potter was taken back, "I didn't say I thought the practice was easy, I said watch your mouth. And Bagman is not crazy, he's just hard working."
Draco laughed again, "You mean working us hard. All he does is fly around and tell us which plays to run. The definition of a task master, Potter, is Mr. Bagman. I should have known though, his brother's nuts too."
Draco suddenly realized something, he was having a conversation with Harry Potter, Scar Head. All the practicing and team work must have gotten to him, what was he thinking. This was the same boy that had cursed him unconscious on the train just weeks before.
Potter seemed to realize what Draco was thinking as well. He closed his mouth and narrowed his eyes, a questioning look in them. They stood there, no words passing between them, only confused looks and silent questions with no answers. "Well, I, ah, I guess I'll see you on Wednesday, Malfoy." Potter's glare was not nearly as strong as before, and even his words were spoken awkwardly.
"Goodbye Potter, see you and your girlfriend later." Draco tried to sound hateful, but his voice wasn't working properly. His drawl wasn't noticeable at all. Someone must have cast a spell at him while they were practicing. He cursed Bagman silently, if he hadn't been working them so hard he would have seen his attacker.
The two groups spun around quickly and stormed off in opposite directions. Potter and Weasley in the same way that Bagman had left, and Draco towards a fireplace in the rear. They tried to storm as if they had just come face to face with the Anti-Christ, but neither one was very convincing. What had passed between him and Potter, Draco thought? It had seemed almost friendly. Whatever it was it was all because of that spell, and it must have been a powerful spell if could make him act friendly towards Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived.
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The week went by slowly for Draco. He slept as much as his Mother let him, being forced awake for company. When he wasn't sleeping or entertaining he sat in his room and read. He was intrigued by a muggle book he had found, Faust by Goethe. He could relate the entire story to his family, replacing Satan with Voldemort. In the background Draco played his favorite classical. His ears perked upon the beginning of a movement he enjoyed more than the rest and he could feel his hand moving with the notes. He enjoyed the music, it seemed to sooth him as only music and Quidditch could.
Since it was Saturday morning, Narcissa had went out to be with her friends. They did this almost every Saturday. They went out to a different social club of England and socialized for most of the afternoon until it was time for dinner. For dinner they would go to a different person's house every weekend. Today they were going somewhere other than the Manor, and for this Draco was thankful.
He woke up around noon and crawled out of bed. The elves had left the Daily Prophet on his desk, neat and crisp just as they did every morning. He pulled on his morning robe and sat down in his red leather arm chair to read the news. The small metal pieces which were embroidered into the chair were cold against his skin but he took no notice as he read the headline of the front page, ~~~
Hundreds of Exiled Giants Spotted
All across the countryside of the continent, hundreds of exiled giants from the nearby mountains have been seen fleeing from an unknown threat. Over the past week close to two hundred giants have been identified, almost all former and suspected supporters of You-Know-Who.
Witnesses say the giants have seemed more agitated than usual and fear for their lives. The giants took refuge in the mountains after the disappearance of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, who they were close allies with. Over the years many have tried to bring the exiled giants to justice but almost all of the giants have been killed in small skirmishes between aurors.
The appearance of so many giants wanted for questioning brings up questions of its own. Who are the giant fleeing from? Has the Ministry took up the task of finally rounding up the last of the free giants or have the giants gained a new enemy in the mountains? When one witness, Rubeus Hagrid, Care of Magical Creatures Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, approached and questioned one of the fleeing giants and ask what they were so scared of that they would risk being caught and prosecuted, the giant refused to answer. "He'll kill us all if we tell. He'll kill us all." The giant was heard screaming this as he continued on through the town after Mr. Hagrid posed the question we are all wondering.
~~~
The Article went on for some length about the history of the giants and why people had feared them and listed some of the more famous ones. Draco had read all this before or heard it from his Father and he threw the paper back onto his desk. What could all this mean, Draco thought? If the Ministry was trying to round them all up, they would have said something. Trust in the Minister had been falling now since the escape of Sirius Black two years ago. The Ministry would have made it public knowledge if they were trying to do something right. What did Draco care if all the giants were scared, that was over in France and was affecting the rest of Europe not England. He pushed himself out of the armchair and headed downstairs for some breakfast. He didn't bother to change, he liked his silk pajamas.
The house was unnaturally quiet. His footsteps echoed in the hall as his slippers trod on the polished wood floors. There were no house elves in sight, they skirted around the edge of the halls avoiding their masters. What was going on, Draco thought?
He entered into the kitchen and stopped dead. He was greeted by something of a disturbing site. His mother was pacing around in circles, throwing cold stares at the elves and occasionally kicking one that couldn't get out of her path quickly enough. Draco had never seen his Mother this upset over something before. And the fact that she was not out socializing made him very curious.
He walked the rest of the way into the kitchen, "What is so troubling that it would make the woman who associates with Voldemort pace like she is trying to trod a circle into the marble?" He grinned a very devilish grin at his wit.
His Mother was not impressed. She stopped pacing and gave him a stare that could kill. Her hatred for him and for his attempt at humor seemed to burn in her eyes like lightning. "It's none of your business what's bothering me, young man. And you are not eating breakfast like that. Go and change into some clothes." A look of extreme disgust had come across her face as she indicated Draco's pajamas, which she had given him only last Christmas. It wasn't like she had bought them, probably one of the servants had picked them out.
Draco turned around and went to go and put on some robes. He hadn't found out what she was angry about, he had annoyed her, and he was now forced to change out of his comfortable attire. Some days it didn't pay to get out of bed, Draco thought. His room was warm and he decided that he would take a shower as well before he went back downstairs. He finished and was picking out a robe. He hated the fact that his Father detested all Muggle clothing. All Draco really wanted to wear was his favorite black pants and matching silk shirt, but because his Father considered them Muggle he would have to wait until he was back at Hogwarts.
His fire had gone out while he was in the bathroom and so he lit it quickly before leaving for breakfast a second time. The hallways were just as cold as usual and they carried his Mother's voice up from the kitchen. She was speaking quickly to someone and she was obviously keeping her voice down. Draco slowed his pace and tried to walk as quietly as he could the rest of the way up the hall.
He stopped at the very edge of the door and tried to tune his ears into what his Mother was saying. He couldn't make out the muffled words. He peered cautiously into the kitchen and saw her crouched down in front of the fire, but he couldn't see who she was talking to. It sounded as if she were wrapping it up, "Okay, be careful then. I'll be expecting them. Goodbye." With a pop, whoever had been in the fire was now gone and his Mother straightened up.
"Who were you talking to Mother." Draco's cold voice cut through the air as he stepped into the kitchen. It took his Mother by surprise and she jumped. Draco grinned at having frightened her. "Who were you talking to?" He asked again in case she had forgotten the question. He spoke the words slowly and sternly. He tried to speak them as his Father would. He wanted to know what was going on, and he wanted to know now.
Her look of shock quickly turned to annoyance and anger. "Have you been eavesdropping? I should beat you like your Father beat that stupid elf Dobby. No more questions this morning. Now go and eat breakfast in the dining room and then you're to stay in your room the rest of the day. I have important company coming over and I want you out of site."
The look on her face was very cold, but there was a very small hint of question as well. As if she were asking to herself whether or not he had heard who she had been talking too, and whether or not he had recognized the person.
Draco tried to pierce her thoughts, but the look hardened over and she pointed in the direction of the dining room. He now noticed that the kitchen had become bare of all elves. It must have been someone quite important if she had sent them away while she talked. But why hadn't she just used a more private fireplace?
He sat down at the long oak table and a house elf quickly brought him out a tray full of breakfast foods. He took off the silver top and was thinking as he ate. Who was so important that his Mother didn't want to show him off to? If the Minister of Magic had shown up, his Mother would undoubtedly introduce him at least once. It must not be someone important, it must be someone secret. Maybe it was the same person she'd been talking to in the fire.
He finished his breakfast, and followed his Mother's wishes by heading to his room. He closed the door softly and then he walked over to his armoire. "Wingardium Leviosa!" It levitated slightly above the floor and he directed it away from the wall several feet before setting it down gently. Hidden from view was a very fine crack in the wall. "Alohomora!" The crack in the wall revealed to be a small door and Draco quickly ducked his head and entered, shutting it softly behind him.
"Lumos!" His wand lit up and showed that he was now in a dark passageway that ran between the walls. He had used these in his younger years to sneak around the house. He found it quite by accident. His Father had locked him in his room because he'd found Draco in his study looking through his books. He was so angry with his Father at locking him in that he screamed a one of the spells he'd read, "Alohomora!" He hadn't known what the spell was for and when he'd shouted it, his armoire had tumbled over and revealed the hidden doorway. Neither his Father nor his Mother knew that he had found the passage, although he was quite sure they were aware of it themselves.
He followed the dark stone throughway. On either side of him were slits for watching rooms and small brass rings to pull open doors similar to the one in his own room. He had wandered these so often, and had tried every ring and slit that he knew where each one led. There was one for almost every room to the house. Every room of course that Draco knew about. There were secret chambers in Malfoy Manor, just as in the castle at Howarts. Draco found that his Mother was no longer in the kitchen or the dining room. The guests must have arrived already, Draco thought? He quickened his pace and headed in the direction of the sitting room.
He slowed as he became closer and tried to make as little noise as possible, the walls were thick, but sounds echoed and Draco had nearly been caught several times due to carelessness. He found the slit he wanted and pressed his face against it. This slit looked out through a painting of a large Malfoy family crest that hung on the wall. The crest was transparent on one side and the slit was completely invisible unless the painting removed.
He saw his Mother and two men he did not know standing in a tight group against the opposite wall. The men wore long black traveling cloaks that looked to have stains of some sort on them. Each one also had a sword strapped to his hip. Although Draco could see neither of their faces, he could tell by the white masks they held that they were Death Eaters. It was no wonder his Mother had wanted him to stay in his room. His Father desired more than anything for Draco to wear the same mask and mark he did, but he was not stupid enough to let his son hear privileged information before he had sworn his life to Voldemort.
The three looked to be talking in hushed voices but try as Draco might he could not catch one sound coming from the adjacent room. He put his ear against the wall and tried to listen as hard as possible, but still he heard no sound. The conspirators must have taken precautions and set up wards before beginning their business.
He stayed and watched for a long while, hoping at least to catch a glimse of one of the men's faces, but neither one moved the entire time. Finally it appeared that the conversation was coming to a close, all three nodded and then the two men bowed low to his Mother, replaced their masks, and disapparated. His Mother waved her wand and at once Draco became aware that he could hear the clock ticking next to him again. Draco watched his Mother leave the sitting room and then he headed back towards his own room. The feeling he had was one not of success or failure. A few of his questions had been answered, but many more had now been asked. Who were the two men? What part did his Mother play in all of this? She was definitely no Death Eater, she did not bear their mark. But perhaps all of his servants did not have the skull and snake tattoo plainly visible, thought Draco. If each one simple had one branded on their forearm the Ministry could then roll up the sleeves of all those they suspected. That had not been the case fifteen years ago, and it would most likely not be the case now. Could his Mother be a Death Eater? His Father was one, and he wanted Draco to become one, it made sense therefore that he would wish his wife to be loyal to the same master. Perhaps she was just the messenger though, she didn't seem the type that was capable of cold blooded murder.
Draco pushed open the door that led to his room and replaced the armoire. He sat down in his arm chair to think. There was really nothing he could do either way, he would just have to wait and see what his Father had planned. Until then, Draco had to concentrate on his studies. He had still yet to open his books and start on his summer homework.
He let out a long sigh. He would never become like his Father, he was no one's servant, he was his own master and would not be swayed to follow Voldemort. He wanted to play Quidditch, eat feasts, and be with friends. He wanted to be with friends he didn't have. It was then that he made a decision, he would find within Hogwarts a companion that school year. Someone he could trust with anything, someone he could laugh with, and cry with perhaps. Someone he could get into trouble with and stay up late at night talking to. Someone he could go to for guidance about his troubled family life.
He pulled his gaze from the window. Yes, he thought, that would be his goal this coming year. And with that he got up out of his arm chair and began on his homework, choosing to do the hardest, History, and save Potions or later. He brought his head up from the parchment, perhaps Professor Snape knew of someone who might be all the things Draco wanted? He made a mental note to ask upon his return to Hogwarts. Until then, his studies, his carriage away from Malfoy Manor, awaited.
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It was finally Saturday and Draco felt that this week there was no way the Knights were going to lose. The team had practiced an extra hour by themselves on both Wednesday and Friday. Each one had played "captain" for twenty minutes, working on whatever they felt they needed. Draco thought they should work on shooting, Harry thought they should work on plays, and Ginny thought they needed more work passing.
The conversation was light and they worked themselves tired. The whole time they tried not to think about the fact that they were suppose to hate each other, to be enemies not teammates. Their progress was amazing, if someone had seen their first game, they would not recognize the Knights as the same team. This only proved further that Draco and Harry were some of the best Quidditch players England had seen.
Whenever Draco had been flying this summer, after the first week, he had felt a certain calm come over him. It was almost as if nothing else mattered, not his parents, not his name, not his house at Hogwarts, and not his rivalries. He was beginning to think that Potter was feeling the same way, he had been acting almost pleasant. He asked Draco questions about plays, and gave him helpful hints on techniques he had read about. Realizing this Draco realized something else, he hadn't called Potter scar head all week, and when he thought about Potter, there was no rage, no urge to kill him. Draco didn't ponder these thoughts for long. He knew that if he did, the old feelings would come rushing back, and he was enjoying these new sensations, the new calm.
Draco shook his head hard, he didn't have time to think about all these things. He threw his purple robe over his head quickly and grabbed his broom from the corner. He had cleaned and trimmed it again last night, he wanted this game to go right. He took a pinch of floo powder from the stand on his desk and pitched it into his fire and left for the Quidditch field. The pitch came into view and Draco bolted from the hearth, he only had five minutes before the game was supposed to start. He found his field and saw that Potter and the Weasley girl were already in the air warming up.
With a small leap he threw the broom into the air while at the same time mounting it. It shot out and towards his teammates. Potter had spotted him coming and stopped where he flew to wait. "Almost thought you weren't going to show."
There was a half smile on his face, not an evil one, or a sarcastic one, just a smile, and Draco found that he returned this smile without hesitation. "You wish, Potter." The words flowed out naturally, there was neither spite nor a drawl. The referee came out then and the four now waited for the other team to show up. It was only a few minutes when three very scawny, very scared boys who looked to be only in third year came onto the field. Draco smiled and leaned a little closer to Potter, "It looks like they match our future games with our previous games."
Harry got the jist of this but Ginny looked confused. "It means that since we lost the game by so much last week, they think our team is bad and they matched us up against s team who they thought would be more equal." Ginny seemed to understand what Harry was saying now, but there was a still a blank expression on her face. "What's the matter, Gin?"
She looked from their opponents to the referee, there was a look of pity on her face. "Well, I feel a little bad for the other team that's all. They look scared enough, after today they'll probably never play Quidditch again."
This was too much for Draco and Potter. Each cracked up laughing, full hearty laughs. "Well aren't we a little smug?" Draco had time to say. Potter smiled as he laughed, "Yes just because you're playing with the two best seekers at Hogwarts doesn't mean anything." He laughed more. They laughed so hard that they nearly lost their balance and fell off their brooms. Ginny shot them both a stern look, one to try and make them stop. "It's not funny, I'm being serious." But this only made the two laugh harder.
It was finally the referee's voice that brought them back to where they were. "Are you two going to hang around up there all day laughing, or play Quidditch?" He didn't look too impress with the behavior. Draco and Harry choked off the last of their laughter and flew down to the waiting four.
"I want a good clean game from both teams. The bludger is already up. Mount your brooms and when you hear my whistle you may leave the ground." The six mounted their brooms as the ref told them too and waited anxiously. He released the quaffle and it soared up, there was a shrill whistle and the game began. The six flew quickly into the air. Draco, Ginny and Harry wove in and out of each other path's, as Bagman had shown them, this was to confuse their opponents. Harry grabbed the quaffle and circled once across the line into his half to re-group. They formed the now familiar V pattern and charged into the offensive zone. They passed the ball quickly in between each other, further confusing the other team. The other team didn't quite know what to do and the Knights flew right past them. Draco carried the quaffle, Ginny was getting set up to speed past the hoop. Draco flung it fast for the spot Ginny was headed. She caught it and released it so fast it looked as if she hadn't touched it at all, just decided to change direction. The quaffle soared through the goal without a sound making the score ten to zero.
The tallest of the three boys on the opposing team retrieved the quaffle. They grouped very tight together and tried to speed off as Draco and Harry had, but their brooms were too slow. While Ginny waited towards the side of the field, Draco and Harry circled the slow moving group. The ball was still with the center boy, Draco dove for him once, he dodged easily, and right into the dive of Harry. Harry snatched the quaffle and tossed it far across to Ginny, who zipped up the field for another easy score.
The small boys now tried a different approach. They spread themselves out in a large V formation and flew towards the other end. They passed the quaffle hard amd high over head to one another. The tact lasted a little while, but finally after one toss Draco put on a burst of speed and intercepted in mid pass. He didn't wait for Harry or Ginny, but sped down the field and got his first goal of the game. The Horse Men, the three scrawny boys who resembled worms rather than horses, had hardly time to turn their brooms around before Draco scored.
Ginny's prediction was coming true, and the Horse Men's spirits were falling. Their plays were becoming ridiculous and they were losing the quaffle faster and more often. Finally they resorted to simply defending their goal. The three young boys set up a wall in front of their one hoop. The hoop was quite large though and they didn't quite cover the whole space. The three moved back and forth following the ball, trying to protect the open part from a shot. This new tactic left the Knights to pass the quaffle rapidly between the three of them. They moved the ball faster than the Horse Men could move back and forth and many shots opened up. Who ever had the qauffle when an opening occurred took the shot. Most of the shots were good and they became goals. After a goal the Horse Men would pick up the ball and throw it as far as they could down field and wait for whoever retrieved it to come back and try to score again. After a while the Knights stopped trying so hard. The score was 170 to 0 and they none of them seemed to feel right to keep trying to score as vigorously. Even Draco seemed to become a little bored with the game. The three boys on the other team were anything but bored. They looked very scared actually and they became very jumpy when anyone took a shot.
There were only a few minutes left in the game and the three were just sitting on their brooms waiting for the referee to signal the end. Draco had the quaffle and was tossing it from hand to hand while Ginny and Harry talked quietly to each other. Draco shook his head as he watched them whisper. The red head gave off a small high pitched giggle, she must have thought something Potter said was funny. It was disgusting him. He was just turning his head back to the hoop to take a shot when out of his eye he saw a glint of black flash in the direction the other two were sitting. He jerked his head around in time to see a bludger fly past him. It was heading straight for the red headed girl. "Weasley, look out!" The girls head popped up and looked in Draco's direction. They widened in shock as she saw the bludger. She wasn't going to have time to get out of the way. Draco dropped the quaffle and pressed his broom as tight as he could against his body. It sped off forward like a shot of lightning. The bludger was shooting forward. Draco pushed himself closer to the broom and came up along side the speeding ball. With a lurch to the side, Draco shouldered the bludger. It's course altered slightly and nicked the tail of Ginny's broom.
The girl was flung forward and plummeted towards the ground. Draco pulled his broom around and shot after her. He could see that Potter had done the same thing but he didn't have the momentum that Draco had already. She was only a few feet from the ground when Draco took both hands off his broom and reached out to catch her. He felt her robes brush against his skin and the weight of her body in his arms. He put his feet out and bent his knees to comfort the shock of the ground rising to meet him. There was a jolt and Draco's descent ended. He swung off his broom and set the dazed girl on her feet. She swayed a little bit and Draco held onto her elbow to support her.
A moment later Potter landed next to them. He put both hands onto her shoulders, "Ginny. Ginny are you okay?" There was fear on his face. Fear that Ginny was hurt. And his eyes were filled with worry.
Ginny nodded her head slowly, still unsure of herself. Her mouth opened and closed trying to form words, "Malfoy,"
she stammered, "Malfoy, he saved me." Harry took her into a big hug, tears flowed down her cheeks.
The referee landed next to the three. "Is everyone alright here?" He looked from one face to another as they all nodded their heads. He let out a long sigh, "Well in that case the game is over. The final score is Knights 170, Horse Men 20. Have a good day."
He picked up the fallen quaffle and walked off the field quickly. Draco could see the other team leaving as well. He couldn't believe they'd scored twice while he was chasing after a bludger and a falling girl. What had made him do either one of those things though, it wasn't his usual behavior? He didn't have to send that bludger off course and he didn't have to go chasing after the girl once she'd fallen. Ordinarily he would have left them both and just turned the other way, or laughed at her misfortune.
He was staring at the ground and realized that the Weasley girl was walking towards the door the referee had just left. Very awkwardly too, he noted to himself. But Potter was still standing there in front of him. Draco looked at him with a quizzical look. They were both standing there in silence a foot apart.
"Umm, Thanks Malfoy. Thanks for helping Ginny back there." The words came out slow and quiet, as if his mouth were dry. There was an unusual expression on his face as well. It was one Draco couldn't quite. It looked like gratitude, but Draco couldn't be sure as he didn't often see this look given to him.
Draco didn't know what to say in response. He stood there for what seemed like an eternity thinking about what Potter had said and what he should say back. Finally he felt he had to say something, anything. He looked up, a confused look in his own eyes now, "You're Welcome." The words flowed from his lips, it made him feel good. He smiled and the dazed look left. "You're welcome Potter." He said it with more confidence, he said it as if he had never said it before, he rarely had.
Potter smiled now as well. It was a full smile, a happy one, and one he had never expected to be giving Draco Malfoy. It quickly faded as he turned to leave but stopped, "See you at Monday's practice." There was confusion on his face again as he finally turned and left the pitch.
Draco turned and walked in the opposite direction, towards the smaller, more private hearth in the back. He picked up his broom. There was a spring in his step. He felt better today than he had all summer, ever for that matter. He felt free, like he felt on his broom. He felt as if he could go anywhere and do anything and no one was going to stop him. He felt that if Voldemort were to show up now, Draco could stand up to fight him and win.
He took a bit of floo powder and tossed it into the fire. "Malfoy Manor." As the flames engorged him, he knew that though it had started off looking grim, it was starting to look up. He might actually have some fun this summer.
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