Xenith
"I choose to win
So I choose to fight."
-Weathered, Creed
Chapter Thirteen
"The Quaffle is up and the players are off!" Lee's voice echoed around the Pitch as fourteen completely scarlet, green, silver, and gold players zoomed into the air. "And their robes clearly suggest their loyalties lie with each other today as a scarlet and gold Slytherin Beater pelts a Bludger at the announcer. And missing him by MILES I might add."
"Jordan." McGonagall warned.
"I only speak the truth Professor!"
Harry blocked out any further prattle from Lee as he circled the upper-most ring of the Quidditch Pitch, sharp emerald eyes scouring the air around him for the telltale flash of gold.
"Tut, tut, tut." Draco's slimy-smooth voice came from behind him. "You really need to change tactic Potter." He scolded. "You're becoming terribly predictable."
"You're the one who needs a new tactic. All you ever do is follow me."
"Hey, I stick to what works."
"I'd re-think that plan if I were you. It hasn't managed to work yet."
"It's a new team you're playing today Potter. I'd watch my back if I were you."
"'Specially if you're planning to fly behind me the whole match." Harry stopped suddenly causing Draco to knock into his back and almost loose hold of his Nimbus and then flying off before Draco could have a chance to complain.
"Johnson spins, narrowly avoiding a Bludger, and our emerald clad Gryffindor's SCORE! Take that!"
Angelina took a victory lap, arms in the air, trying to catch Fred's eye. He took no notice though as he smashed a Bludger towards the trailing Malfoy.
Malfoy spun upside-down on his broomstick and Fred grinned triumphantly and sped off after the second Bludger shooting towards Donnalley, their Keeper.
"Bell steals the Quaffle, drops to Ginny Weasley, the newest edition to the Chasing trio, and not a bad pick either. Getting rather attractive, she is . . ." Lee ducked as both Fred and George lobbed the Bludgers, with impeccable aim, at his head. "Nevermind." Lee mumbled into the megaphone from his crouched position at the edge of the Pitch. McGonagall didn't bother yelling at Lee and Madame Hootch issued no penalties, both believing Lee was finally getting his comeuppance.
Ginny swooped by Harry, making for the goal hoops, her face as red as the Quaffle in her arms.
"Hey, it's the Snitch." Malfoy's deep, sneering voice sounded from his left.
"What?" Harry's head snapped around.
"Maybe you should pay more attention to the game and not less to the girls." Malfoy sneered. "Not that I'm complaining though."
"That's a new one." Harry yawned; feigning disinterest as he lay flat on his broom handle, chin on his hands. Malfoy scoffed and he didn't see Harry's sharp green eyes darting over the entirety of the Pitch.
"Come on Potter. It's no fun to beat you unless you actually DO something."
//You want fun Malfoy?// Harry thought vehemently. //Alright, I'll give you fun.// Still lying flat Harry dropped the front end of his broom vertical to the Pitch and headed into a suicide dive straight towards the ground. The Wronski Feint.
Harry ignored the practically visible scowl from Malfoy as he zipped after him believing his sighting of the Snitch. Harry let a rare malicious smile crease his face as he sped through the air, the ground rushing up to meet him. //Beat this Pretty-Boy.//
Pulling up at the last second, his elbows just skimming the finely cut grass, he spiraled back into the air just in time to see Malfoy collide with the ground.
Lee's voice finally penetrated the cloud of Harry's consciousness with a: "Great Feint there Potter, hope you knocked some sense into the slimy bloke."
"Jordan!"
"My apologies Professor!"
"That was bloody brilliant Harry!" Fred bellowed across the Pitch, swinging his beater's club in the air above his head. "That's the best Feint I've ever seen!"
"Even better then Viktor Krum at the Cup last year." Ginny said quietly, flying up behind him.
"Thanks." Harry could feel his cheeks tinge. //This is new.//
"Malfoy is back as play resumes." Lee sighed into the megaphone.
Malfoy soared up beside the green-haired boy, the thick stripe of scarlet running down the middle of his face matching the blood from his nose perfectly. "Try it again Potter and you won't live to see morning." He hissed, bringing a scarlet cloaked arm to his face and wiping at his nose---he hadn't let anyone clean him up---and thus leaving a red smear across the gold lining his cheeks. "But then again, you might not anyway."
A deep growl escaped Harry's chest when his eye caught a sharp glint of gold in the dark sky hovering above them. Malfoy had seen it too as the sky exploded in a shattering quake of thunder and lightning and an explosion of red rain. In an instant their eyes darted to one another, disregarding the blood-red downpour, and back to the Snitch before they smashed upwards toward the glint of gold.
Harry had never felt anything so exhilarating and terrifying in his entire life. He could feel magic coursing though his veins, magic pounding in his eardrums, and curdling his blood---and he liked it. Power. He only vaguely registered the red rain and a tiny voice in the back of his mind wondering why he could still see.
But then he saw Malfoy, and both boys, knowing full well that their broomsticks would be of no further help in the ensuing battle, leapt free from their confining magical objects and into the air with only one thought: //Get the Snitch.//
Ten fingers intertwined around the fluttering golden ball as the two teenage bodies collided with each other nearly a hundred feet in the air. Harry and Draco clung to on another as they fell, an arm hooked around the other boy's back, legs wrapped around each other---one hand still clawing at the Snitch. The two boys crashed into Curtis Saunders twenty feet above the Pitch.
They spun towards the ground, Draco trying desperately to position Harry underneath himself to break the fall and Harry, a surge of unexplainable protectiveness sweeping over him, trying to get under Draco to cushion the blonde's fall.
Both failed, though, as Draco's back slammed first into the Pitch. All the air was knocked from the Slytherin's lungs as Harry crashed on top of him sending both boys skidding through the muddy grass.
Miraculously, and to the two Seeker's, and the crowd's, complete astonishment, neither boy had let go of the Snitch.
"Are you . . . alright?" Harry panted, crawling to his feet and still hanging onto the game-winning ball.
"I'm fine Potter." Malfoy choked out, using the hand still holding onto the Snitch and Harry he pulled himself to his feet. "Let go of the Snitch Potter." He tried in vain to pull his hand free from Harry's. Neither heard the stampeding footsteps or the shrieks of fright.
"No. I had it first." He pulled back.
"Give me a break, Scar-Face." Yank.
"Get a clue Ferret-Boy." He snarled, pulling his hand back even harder.
"Same time?" Malfoy offered, only the tiniest smirk curling the corners of his mouth.
Harry nodded.
"One . . ." His left hand curled into a fist at his side. "Two . . . three!" And his fist collided with Harry's jaw. Harry stumbled backwards, not letting go of the Snitch. He wasn't stupid. He brought his right hand to his lip, he could taste blood.
"You little . . ." He snarled, bringing his hand back and smashing it into Malfoy's perfect pointed nose.
Malfoy blinked away the pain clouding his eyes and lunged at Harry, knocking him into the muck. Harry threw up his arms to block the barrage of punches from the dripping red boy. The Snitch was long gone.
But his arms needn't have been there.
Malfoy jerked back as someone grabbed the collar of his robes and threw him to the ground. Harry jumped up to see Ron towering over the Slytherin.
Draco leapt to his feet and, even under the circumstances, Harry was forced to admit that Malfoy had good fighting form. His fists were up and cocked, ready to unleash a flurry of punches at Ron the moment he came within range.
"Don't do anything foolish Ron!" Hermione screamed over a fresh howl of thunder, grabbing one of the arms hanging by his sides. He shook her off, never taking his eyes from his target.
Draco lunged at Ron, swinging an impressive combination of punches . . . right jab, left jab, right roundhouse, left haymaker. Not a single one connected, and Ron wasn't even backing away. Malfoy opened up his left side and Ron jumped at the opportunity. Ron swung his hand at Malfoy. His fist connected with his face and with a sickening crack the blonde fell to the ground. Completely unconscious.
--
¸..· ´¨¨)) -:¦:-
¸.·´ ·´¨¨))
((¸¸.·´ ..·´ -:¦:- tbc -:¦:-
-:¦:- ((¸¸.·´*
--
A/N: Whoever doubted Draco was a lefty? Ohhh, I love him sooo much but that just had to happen! Big, bad, sexy Ron beating him up. Ohhh!
Oh yeah, and the last part of the fight scene was inspired by the 'Spiderman' book by Peter David!
"I choose to win
So I choose to fight."
-Weathered, Creed
Chapter Thirteen
"The Quaffle is up and the players are off!" Lee's voice echoed around the Pitch as fourteen completely scarlet, green, silver, and gold players zoomed into the air. "And their robes clearly suggest their loyalties lie with each other today as a scarlet and gold Slytherin Beater pelts a Bludger at the announcer. And missing him by MILES I might add."
"Jordan." McGonagall warned.
"I only speak the truth Professor!"
Harry blocked out any further prattle from Lee as he circled the upper-most ring of the Quidditch Pitch, sharp emerald eyes scouring the air around him for the telltale flash of gold.
"Tut, tut, tut." Draco's slimy-smooth voice came from behind him. "You really need to change tactic Potter." He scolded. "You're becoming terribly predictable."
"You're the one who needs a new tactic. All you ever do is follow me."
"Hey, I stick to what works."
"I'd re-think that plan if I were you. It hasn't managed to work yet."
"It's a new team you're playing today Potter. I'd watch my back if I were you."
"'Specially if you're planning to fly behind me the whole match." Harry stopped suddenly causing Draco to knock into his back and almost loose hold of his Nimbus and then flying off before Draco could have a chance to complain.
"Johnson spins, narrowly avoiding a Bludger, and our emerald clad Gryffindor's SCORE! Take that!"
Angelina took a victory lap, arms in the air, trying to catch Fred's eye. He took no notice though as he smashed a Bludger towards the trailing Malfoy.
Malfoy spun upside-down on his broomstick and Fred grinned triumphantly and sped off after the second Bludger shooting towards Donnalley, their Keeper.
"Bell steals the Quaffle, drops to Ginny Weasley, the newest edition to the Chasing trio, and not a bad pick either. Getting rather attractive, she is . . ." Lee ducked as both Fred and George lobbed the Bludgers, with impeccable aim, at his head. "Nevermind." Lee mumbled into the megaphone from his crouched position at the edge of the Pitch. McGonagall didn't bother yelling at Lee and Madame Hootch issued no penalties, both believing Lee was finally getting his comeuppance.
Ginny swooped by Harry, making for the goal hoops, her face as red as the Quaffle in her arms.
"Hey, it's the Snitch." Malfoy's deep, sneering voice sounded from his left.
"What?" Harry's head snapped around.
"Maybe you should pay more attention to the game and not less to the girls." Malfoy sneered. "Not that I'm complaining though."
"That's a new one." Harry yawned; feigning disinterest as he lay flat on his broom handle, chin on his hands. Malfoy scoffed and he didn't see Harry's sharp green eyes darting over the entirety of the Pitch.
"Come on Potter. It's no fun to beat you unless you actually DO something."
//You want fun Malfoy?// Harry thought vehemently. //Alright, I'll give you fun.// Still lying flat Harry dropped the front end of his broom vertical to the Pitch and headed into a suicide dive straight towards the ground. The Wronski Feint.
Harry ignored the practically visible scowl from Malfoy as he zipped after him believing his sighting of the Snitch. Harry let a rare malicious smile crease his face as he sped through the air, the ground rushing up to meet him. //Beat this Pretty-Boy.//
Pulling up at the last second, his elbows just skimming the finely cut grass, he spiraled back into the air just in time to see Malfoy collide with the ground.
Lee's voice finally penetrated the cloud of Harry's consciousness with a: "Great Feint there Potter, hope you knocked some sense into the slimy bloke."
"Jordan!"
"My apologies Professor!"
"That was bloody brilliant Harry!" Fred bellowed across the Pitch, swinging his beater's club in the air above his head. "That's the best Feint I've ever seen!"
"Even better then Viktor Krum at the Cup last year." Ginny said quietly, flying up behind him.
"Thanks." Harry could feel his cheeks tinge. //This is new.//
"Malfoy is back as play resumes." Lee sighed into the megaphone.
Malfoy soared up beside the green-haired boy, the thick stripe of scarlet running down the middle of his face matching the blood from his nose perfectly. "Try it again Potter and you won't live to see morning." He hissed, bringing a scarlet cloaked arm to his face and wiping at his nose---he hadn't let anyone clean him up---and thus leaving a red smear across the gold lining his cheeks. "But then again, you might not anyway."
A deep growl escaped Harry's chest when his eye caught a sharp glint of gold in the dark sky hovering above them. Malfoy had seen it too as the sky exploded in a shattering quake of thunder and lightning and an explosion of red rain. In an instant their eyes darted to one another, disregarding the blood-red downpour, and back to the Snitch before they smashed upwards toward the glint of gold.
Harry had never felt anything so exhilarating and terrifying in his entire life. He could feel magic coursing though his veins, magic pounding in his eardrums, and curdling his blood---and he liked it. Power. He only vaguely registered the red rain and a tiny voice in the back of his mind wondering why he could still see.
But then he saw Malfoy, and both boys, knowing full well that their broomsticks would be of no further help in the ensuing battle, leapt free from their confining magical objects and into the air with only one thought: //Get the Snitch.//
Ten fingers intertwined around the fluttering golden ball as the two teenage bodies collided with each other nearly a hundred feet in the air. Harry and Draco clung to on another as they fell, an arm hooked around the other boy's back, legs wrapped around each other---one hand still clawing at the Snitch. The two boys crashed into Curtis Saunders twenty feet above the Pitch.
They spun towards the ground, Draco trying desperately to position Harry underneath himself to break the fall and Harry, a surge of unexplainable protectiveness sweeping over him, trying to get under Draco to cushion the blonde's fall.
Both failed, though, as Draco's back slammed first into the Pitch. All the air was knocked from the Slytherin's lungs as Harry crashed on top of him sending both boys skidding through the muddy grass.
Miraculously, and to the two Seeker's, and the crowd's, complete astonishment, neither boy had let go of the Snitch.
"Are you . . . alright?" Harry panted, crawling to his feet and still hanging onto the game-winning ball.
"I'm fine Potter." Malfoy choked out, using the hand still holding onto the Snitch and Harry he pulled himself to his feet. "Let go of the Snitch Potter." He tried in vain to pull his hand free from Harry's. Neither heard the stampeding footsteps or the shrieks of fright.
"No. I had it first." He pulled back.
"Give me a break, Scar-Face." Yank.
"Get a clue Ferret-Boy." He snarled, pulling his hand back even harder.
"Same time?" Malfoy offered, only the tiniest smirk curling the corners of his mouth.
Harry nodded.
"One . . ." His left hand curled into a fist at his side. "Two . . . three!" And his fist collided with Harry's jaw. Harry stumbled backwards, not letting go of the Snitch. He wasn't stupid. He brought his right hand to his lip, he could taste blood.
"You little . . ." He snarled, bringing his hand back and smashing it into Malfoy's perfect pointed nose.
Malfoy blinked away the pain clouding his eyes and lunged at Harry, knocking him into the muck. Harry threw up his arms to block the barrage of punches from the dripping red boy. The Snitch was long gone.
But his arms needn't have been there.
Malfoy jerked back as someone grabbed the collar of his robes and threw him to the ground. Harry jumped up to see Ron towering over the Slytherin.
Draco leapt to his feet and, even under the circumstances, Harry was forced to admit that Malfoy had good fighting form. His fists were up and cocked, ready to unleash a flurry of punches at Ron the moment he came within range.
"Don't do anything foolish Ron!" Hermione screamed over a fresh howl of thunder, grabbing one of the arms hanging by his sides. He shook her off, never taking his eyes from his target.
Draco lunged at Ron, swinging an impressive combination of punches . . . right jab, left jab, right roundhouse, left haymaker. Not a single one connected, and Ron wasn't even backing away. Malfoy opened up his left side and Ron jumped at the opportunity. Ron swung his hand at Malfoy. His fist connected with his face and with a sickening crack the blonde fell to the ground. Completely unconscious.
--
¸..· ´¨¨)) -:¦:-
¸.·´ ·´¨¨))
((¸¸.·´ ..·´ -:¦:- tbc -:¦:-
-:¦:- ((¸¸.·´*
--
A/N: Whoever doubted Draco was a lefty? Ohhh, I love him sooo much but that just had to happen! Big, bad, sexy Ron beating him up. Ohhh!
Oh yeah, and the last part of the fight scene was inspired by the 'Spiderman' book by Peter David!