For I Am A Wicked Child
Horseface
***CHAPTER FIVE***
Across the nightDespite Durmstrang's interesting and somewhat controversial classes, nothing much had been happening at the school, until a couple of days later. Draco was walking by himself to his second to last class, when Damek met up with him in the corridor and stopped him. "Hey Draco, you've got your own broomstick right?"
"I'm not even going to dignify that question by answering it," replied Draco, sardonically. "Care to explain why you'd even ask?"
Damek grinned mischievously.
"Later. In the common room," he replied, before running off down the hall. Draco watched him go suspiciously, before continuing on his way. He'd only known that boy for a couple of weeks, but he knew better than to consider him a reliable source of information.
Ironically though, it turned out that there was some truth to Damek's words as Draco found out when he entered the common room. Gunnar and Ivan were in deep conversation, only stopping when Draco cleared his throat and alerted them of his presence. "Ah, Draco. Damek says you've got a broomstick."
Draco nodded, "Yeah, it's a…" Draco's jaw tightened indignantly for a second before he continued, "It's a Nimbus 2001." Gunnar nodded, while Ivan scowled.
"Hey! What's that supposed to mean? I've got a Nimbus 2000!"
Draco looked at him blankly. "Well that would be worse than wouldn't it?"
Gunnar quickly spoke up before Ivan could react. "As long as you can fly it, I don't care if you've got a silver arrow."
Draco rolled his eyes, "All right all right. Why does it matter to you anyway?"
"Midnight Quidditch," replied Gunnar, capturing Draco's undivided attention. Back at Hogwarts, Draco and several other members from Slytherin house used to sneak out onto the field late at night and play a game of Midnight Quidditch. It was a rare event however, considering the caretaker Filch was always hanging about, hoping he might be able to issue someone a week of detention. But Filch was usually the only person likely to interfere with their games, as Slytherin's were the only students that played at Hogwarts. Most members from the other houses either didn't know how to play or they just couldn't gather up the nerve, as not only were they wary of being on the receiving end of Filch's wicked temperament, but since Quidditch was dangerous enough during the day, playing in the dead of night was like having a death wish. The bludgers were harder to see than the snitch and someone always decided that it was the best time to practise any new curses they'd learnt on members of the opposing team, but it was without doubt, a hell of a lot more exciting than regular Quidditch. Still, it was always difficult convincing Madam Pomfrey how it actually was quite easy for someone to break their arms, legs and collarbone falling out of bed. Especially when three other students happened to injure themselves in the exact same way on the very same morning.
Gunnar folded his arms and raised an eyebrow at Draco, "I trust you've played before."
Draco smirked. "Yes, I've played."
"Good. Tonight we've got a game against the 7th years. We're all meeting back here after dinner. All right?"
"All right," replied Draco. Gunnar turned back to Ivan, who looked slightly sulky.
"Ivan, go find Nikolas and tell him. I don't think he knows." As he walked towards the main door, Ivan followed.
"Where are you going then?"
Gunnar shot him an 'Isn't-it-obvious?' look. "To find Elisabet."
As he stepped through the door, he waved goodbye to Draco. Ivan looked back at him as well, scowling. He moved to say something, but instead spun on his heel abruptly, storming out of the dorm and muttering angrily to himself.
"Riiight," said Draco, flatly.
During dinner, Draco spotted a few 6th and 7th year students wolfing down their food as quickly as they could, only slowing down whenever one of the staff passed by. Draco's own table grew especially tense as Professor Dimitar passed by their table. 'Creepy' was the term most commonly used to describe him, and it was the most accurate. Long skeletal fingers emerged from his long, black sleeves and the high stiff collar of his robes concealed most of his bony surly face, so that only his shadowy dark green eyes could be seen. Those same eyes were now staring suspiciously at Draco's table, causing everyone to stop eating dinner. As Nikolas raised his glass to his mouth to take a drink, his hands were visibly shaking and Draco had to give him a good kick in the shins to make him stop.
"Evening Professor," smiled Gunnar politely, one of the few who didn't seem affected by the man's daunting presence.
"Hmm," was Dimitar's only reply, before he made his way down the hall. Gunnar continued to smile, as Dimitar occasionally glanced back at them, only stopping when the Professor had taken his place at the staff table. Nikolas bit his lip. "They know."
"Relax. We'll just have to be extra careful. It'll be fine. O-K?" said Gunnar, shooting him and the rest of the table a look that didn't leave much room for disagreement. Nikolas nodded, but he still didn't seem convinced until Gunnar kicked him in the shins as well. Draco snickered, receiving a look from Nikolas with a meaning that was too rude to be translated into words. In reply, Draco smoothly picked up his cup and brought it to his mouth with over exaggerated shaking. Nikolas blushed and he went back to finishing off the rest of his meal.
It wasn't long before Draco found himself sitting in the common room again, waiting with the other for Gunnar to arrive. As the minutes ticked by, Draco's patience was wearing thin. He wasn't the only one growing irritated, as Nikolas, who was talking to two other 6th year boys, Andres and Zhivko was beginning to look tired of waiting. Bored, Draco lazily drummed his fingers against the armrest, his gaze wandering over to Ivan who was sitting by himself, protectively clutching his Nimbus 2000. A malicious grin spread across Draco's face.
"Why isn't that a quaint little broom you have there, Ivan."
"Shut up."
Just then, Damek quickly rushed into the dorms, breathing heavily.
"Dimitar's coming!"
Almost immediately, everyone pulled out their wands and began to frantically recite returning charms. As the others were all swishing and flicking their wands in a flurry, Draco calmly placed his broom just behind one of the bookshelves in the room. As the last broom flew out of sight, Professor Dimitar entered the dormitory.
"Good Evening."
"Evening sir," replied Andres and Damek, while the other boys smiled at him politely from their seats. An uneasy silence fell over the room, save for the crackling of the fire, as the Professor walked over and took a seat in one of the common room chairs.
"What are the six of you up to then?" Nikolas shrugged and shook his head. "Nothing in particular."
"Really?" said Dimitar skeptically, "No… homework?"
Draco noticed the other boys exchange glances as they tried to think of how to reply.
"Done," answered Draco, "Finished it earlier."
The Professor turned his head towards Draco and crossed his arms. He tapped his fingers steadily across his upper arm, increasing the boys' anxiety. "Malfoy, am I not correct?"
Draco nodded and forced a smile. "Yes, you are sir."
"You transferred from England?"
"That's right," replied Draco, inwardly growing irritated at the Professor's talent for pointing out the obvious. The Professor unfolded his arms, and rested one of them on the armrest. He placed his fist under his chin, his face still devoid of any emotion. Or suspicion.
"How do you like Durmstrang so far?"
"It's very nice, sir," replied Draco, making sure to sound earnest. Professor Dimitar nodded and chuckled to himself, a low guttural laugh that tended to be associated with the criminally insane.
"That's the funny thing about students Draco. When they're talking to teachers, you can never be sure if they're telling the truth." He clasped both his hands together, and leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a low undertone. "But you wouldn't lie, would you Draco?"
Despite the Professor's intense glare, Draco looked him straight in the eye. If he had been at Hogwarts, Draco would've already mouthed off by now, telling the Professor that he'd do what he bloody well wanted to. But for some reason, the advice his father had given him inside the carriage rang through his head. Phrasing his answer carefully, Draco replied, "Why would I have any reason to do that? Sir."
Professor Dimitar smiled thinly. Draco couldn't tell if he was pleased with this answer or if he was smiling because he was going to start dishing out reprimands. However, the Professor left the room without so much as giving out a warning to the boys. As soon as he was out of earshot, everyone let out a sigh of relief and congratulated Draco for his prevention of multiple detentions.
Shortly afterwards, Gunnar and Elisabet sauntered into the dorm. Gunnar's arm was slung over her shoulder and he was whispering into her ear. Elisabet didn't seem to be particularly engrossed in what he had to say, looking in the opposite direction of where he was.
"Oh look who it is," drawled Draco, "And here I was, thinking you couldn't be any later." Gunnar made a face at him, while Elisabet chose the moment to slip out from underneath his grasp.
"About time," snapped Nikolas, "Where were you?"
Gunnar rolled his eyes. "You sound like a fishwife, Nikolas. And I wasn't anywhere."
Unimpressed with his answer, Nikolas folded his arms across his chest, looking surly. "Dimitar was here. Just now."
Gunnar's eyes widened slightly. He sighed and rubbed his hand through his hair contemplatively.
"What time is it?" he asked.
"Quarter to 9," replied Andres.
"All right," said Gunnar, "All of you go ahead. I'll go back and 'casually' bump into Dimitar. Otherwise he'll be chasing me all night."
Everybody nodded in agreement and Gunnar quickly set off out the door. Nikolas gestured for everyone to follow him. "Come on."
He walked over to the large window on the far side of the room, before opening it and… climbing outside. The familiar whoosh of a broomstick taking off could be faintly heard above the whistling wind and Andres, Zhivko and Ivan followed next, quickly disappearing out of sight.
"You next Draco," said Damek.
Hesitating slightly, Draco moved towards the window. Climbing out, he stepped onto a small stone platform that looked ready to break away at any minute. He glanced up and saw the others hovering on their brooms, high above the dormitory. The night air was frosty and despite his thick black gloves, Draco's hands were still stiff with cold as he gripped his broom. Mounting it expertly, he easily kicked off the platform and flew up to join the others. Upon reaching their height, he looked back to see Elisabet mounting her broom, before she flew up to hover beside Draco. Although her long hair was tied back in a high ponytail, it was still flying violently all over the place. Several windswept strands caught the faint light of the moon and created a strange glowing effect around her face, not unlike Draco's own hair.
As the last of them reached the group, Nikolas declared, "We're going to the lakeside first. It's too risky to go straight to the pitch."
Saying this, he urged his broom into flight and Draco followed suit along with the rest of them. They silently flew over the lake and Draco briefly caught a glimpse of the Quidditch hoops, glinting in the moonlight. Heading towards the mountains on one side of the lake, the sight of land drew closer. Draco could see the faint outlines of several people already waiting there, slowly becoming more visible as he drew closer and it wasn't long before he was slowly circling down to disembark from his broom. There were already seven boys waiting there, as well as a few girls, all of them slightly older than Draco. One of them, a tall boy with short, unnaturally bright red hair approached Elisabet, asking, "Where's Gunnar?"
She looked back at him flatly. When she replied, Draco noted the forced politeness overlying the subtle tone of annoyance in her voice. "He's coming. "
The frozen grass crackled underneath Draco's feet as he dismounted from his broom. Draco stood by himself, as he looked around the lakeside. On the edge of the land, there was a bridge connecting it to the school that sat just above water level. A small dirt path lay between two sides of large crooked trees, leading inwards towards the large mountains that helped conceal the location of Durmstrang. The warmth coming from the small group of students was combining with the chilly night air, creating a slightly misty appearance around them.
"Cold night."
Draco looked over his shoulder to see that Elisabet was now standing beside him, looking out onto the lake. Her ponytail was in partial disarray from the wind and loose strands fell around her face. It was messy, but she didn't look so stern for once. Draco turned back, tugging his gloves on tighter.
"You really play in this weather?"
A faint smile appeared on Elisabet's face. "It's better when it's cold."
She turned and met Draco's eyes briefly, before looking past him. "See that boy over there? That's the 7th year seeker, Radomir."
Draco followed her gaze to a tall, wiry boy who was casually leaning against a Nimbus 2020, making small talk with a couple of girls.
"He likes using the Impedimenta spell on players. You should take him out early in the game."
"All right," said Draco. Elisabet nodded, before looking up towards the sky. High above them, Gunnar was starting to make his descent to the ground. Elisabet met Draco's eyes once more, before she began to make her way over to her boyfriend. The two of them exchanged a few short words, before Gunnar sauntered over to the 7th year boy that had initially approached Elisabet.
"You're late," said the boy sternly. Gunnar shrugged.
"What can you do, Jordan."
The boy, Jordan, glared. "Are you ready now?"
A sickeningly sweet, almost mocking, smile was Gunnar's reply. Both of them mounted their brooms simultaneously and kicked off to hover a metre above the ground, followed by everyone else.
"First team at the pitch starts with the Quaffle," announced Jordan, as he removed a golden snitch from his pocket and let it hover between them.
"When the snitch goes, so do we."
Gunnar nodded in agreement. Draco's grip on his broom tightened as everybody anxiously waited in silence and for a moment, the only noise that could be heard was the fluttering wings of the golden snitch.
Flap, Flap, Flap, Flap.
All of a sudden, the snitch was off. It raced back towards the pitch, catching the moonlight in a blur of gold and silver. Immediately Draco kicked his broom into flight. The frosty winds felt like solid ice to Draco as he streaked over the lake at high speed. Just ahead of him, he could see Jordan and Gunnar neck and neck, flying dangerously fast towards the Quidditch field. They ended up arriving at the same time, and as the two of them brought their brooms to a halt in the middle of the pitch, Draco began to slow down while getting his first good look at Durmstrang's Quidditch pitch.
Similar to Hogwarts, it had tall stands surrounding the oval pitch, only they were cloaked in black and blood red. The standard three hoops stood on either side, like every other pitch except with one substantial difference. Instead of a grass field, the stands and hoops were sitting on the dark blue surface of the lake. Polished black metal floating on top made up the boundaries and halfway lines, with a large metal path going around the outside of the stands in addition to a bridge that Draco presumed lead back to Durmstrang. The lake was sitting still and undisturbed and the metal was almost camouflaged since lack of light caused the water to bear a striking resemblance to obsidian. Even though he was hovering very high above it, Draco didn't have to be a genius to sense just how cold that water was, most likely on the verge of freezing point.
The arrival of Andres and Nikolas halted his train of thought, and Draco looked up, he saw Ivan come to a screeching stop beside Gunnar. Five more players had arrived on the 7th year team, and Draco saw Elisabet casually hovering on the outside edge of the pitch, beside one of the stands.
Suddenly the sound of struggling and muffled swearing filled the air and Draco, as well as everyone else, turned to see Damek and Radomir, the 7th year boy Elisabet had pointed out flying shoulder to shoulder, trying to shove each other off their brooms. Damek suddenly grinned, before pulling his broom to a halt, as the other boy was in the middle of shoving him. Carried by his momentum, Radomir looped over the side of his broom, while Damek raced towards the center and took his place between Nikolas and Ivan. Gunnar grinned at him and then looked over at Jordan.
"Sixth year starts."
Jordan scowled, before turning sharply on his broom and calling a huddle between the 7th years. Draco flew in closer to the other 6th years and they formed a tight circle as Gunnar began to talk.
"All right, here's the lineup. Chasers are Zhivko, Nikolas and Andres." Cheers of approval went around between the Chasers and Gunnar gestured for them to be quiet.
"Beaters are Ivan and Damek. I'm Keeper. And Draco…" Gunnar looked over at him, "You're seeker."
"Try to keep up Malfoy," spat Ivan. Draco sneered. He pretended to charge at Ivan, who was caught off guard and wobbled on his broom.
"Try to keep upright, Ivan," he retorted, setting off stifled snickering amongst the other five players. Ivan growled, before turning on his broom and flying off to the left side of the pitch. Gunnar smiled approvingly at Draco, before looking over towards the 7th years. Jordan nodded towards them before flicking his wrist at his teammates, gesturing for them to take their positions. As the rest of his team got into place, Draco flew up high above them. A few metres away from him on the opposite side, Radomir was playing as the 7th year's seeker, just as Elisabet had said.
"Accio Quaffle," called Nikolas and as soon as his arm closed around the large red ball, the game began. Remembering Elisabet's advice Draco reached into his robes to grab his wand, when he caught sight of a bludger speeding towards him. Ducking in the nick of time, the bludger zoomed over his head, sending a set of chills down his spine. Sitting back up on his broom, he grabbed his wand and surveyed the sky for the other seeker. Just below him, he saw Nikolas hurl the Quaffle past the keeper and through the hoops. Cries of "Shest! Shest!" filled the air. Draco looked over to the edge of the pitch, where Elisabet and a couple of other girls were sitting. Draco watched her eyes glance somewhere past him, then back to meet his own with a look that said, "Behind you."
Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Radomir raising his wand. Quickly Draco turned on his broom, and as the other seeker yelled, "Impedimenta!" Draco cast the spell, "Avis!"
A flock of birds shot out from the end of his wand, and flew towards the other boy, a few of them becoming frozen in mid air before plummeting down towards the lake, breaking the still surface with loud splashing. As the 7th year seeker was occupied with trying to fend off the other birds, Draco quickly cast another spell on him.
"Obliviate!"
The birds ceased their incessant attacking on Radomir; instead a strong invisible force flung them into him, knocking him back as well. The loud snap of breaking bones echoed around the pitch as Radomir slammed into one of the stands, before he slowly slid down the side and fell into the lake. A few of the girls on the sideline quickly flew down to meet him, except for Elisabet who was softly clapping her hands. The 7th year players were less than impressed however. A few of them stopped in mid flight to pull out their wands, before sending various hexes in Draco's direction. Quickly, Draco formed a shield around him, causing the spells to bounce off and head back towards their original casters. Draco snickered as they all tried to maneuver their brooms to avoid their own hexes, as well as the bludgers, sending the 7th years into an array of panic and confusion, enabling the 6th years to score another goal.
As Jordan swept around the outside of the pitch to avoid a bludger, he suddenly froze in mid-flight. Hastily he spun his broom around and sped off in the direction of the lakeside, noticeably startled by something he had seen. A few other players stopped what they were doing; glancing over at what Jordan was looking at, before racing off the pitch as well. Draco looked around to see that most of the sixth years had also flown away, and as he hovered in the air by himself, he suddenly felt someone nudge his shoulder. Whipping his head around, he found himself face to face with Elisabet.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Vertov," replied Elisabet.
Hurriedly, they flew to one of the stands, before climbing down to hide in the staircase. Elisabet moved to the front side and shifted the material cloaking the stand slightly out of the way. Draco peered over her shoulder to see Professor Vertov and a few other teachers searching the grounds for any disobedient students out of bed.
"Check the land," commanded Vertov.
Draco and Elisabet drew back from the stand's cloak, remaining deadly silent until the sound of the teachers' footsteps had faded into nothing. Draco suddenly sniggered as he remembered the 7th year seeker, Radomir who had fallen into the lake.
"Obviously Radomir isn't one of the more valued players on the team," whispered Draco to Elisabet, as the sound of splashing and someone gasping deeply for air broke the stillness of the night. The two of them peeked through the gap between the stand and material to see the boy frantically splashing about, having been abandoned by the seventh years at the sight of the teachers. Professor Vertov stood above him on the metal pathway that ran around the outside of the pitch, merely watching the boy as he pulled himself out of the water.
"Tsk, tsk. I'll bet he's regretting trying to curse me now," smirked Draco, "Do you think he'll tell them anything?"
Elisabet's hair brushed the side of his face as she looked over his shoulder, "He'll have to deal with Gunnar and Jordan if he does."
A slight smile appeared on Elisabet's face as the boy began to sneeze in the middle of Vertov's scolding.
"But at the moment, he looks too cold to even breathe."
Elisabet moved away and sat down on one of the steps leading up to the seats of the stand. "We'll wait here for a while."
Draco nodded, before looking back out at the lake where Professor Vertov had grabbed Radomir by his soaking collar and was hauling him back to the school. Draco readjusted the material so that there weren't any spaces that might reveal the fact they were hiding there. He turned back around to face Elisabet, who had removed her gloves and was nonchalantly inspecting her nails, looking as relaxed as though she was sitting in front of a fireplace having a butterbeer, instead of hiding from a search party of teachers in a darkened Quidditch stand at some ungodly hour of the night.
Several minutes passed in silence as they waited, as neither of them could be bothered to start up a conversation. Draco glanced over at his Nimbus 2001, which was sitting beside Elisabet's Nimbus 2020. Leaning over, he pulled it towards him, inspecting the handle that was beginning to lose some of its glossy shine. "I really should persuade my father into buying me a new broom. Honestly, I've had this one for years."
At the sound of soft laughter, Draco glanced over at Elisabet who was shaking her head at him. He scowled. "What's so funny?"
Elisabet didn't reply. She got up from her seat and moved over towards the material covering the stand, drawing it back slightly while Draco continued to glare at her. After a few seconds passed, she turned back to grab her broom. "Teacher's are gone."
As she mounted her broom, she looked back over her shoulder at Draco, whose eyes were narrowed maliciously. "What?" he asked again. Elisabet turned her head forward. "Why don't you ask your father?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" snapped Draco. He was met with Elisabet's soft wry laughter again.
"If you don't know Malfoy, you don't deserve to."
Draco's face contorted into a sneer and he suddenly felt a lot more sympathetic to Ivan. Carefully, he stalked over to her, coming to a halt less than an inch away from her. Suddenly he raised his hand and lashed out violently. Elisabet remained motionless as he grabbed something behind her head, before spinning around and grabbed his broom.
"Here," he said shoving something into her hands. "Give this back to your boyfriend."
As Elisabet glanced down at the golden snitch in her hands, Draco mounted his Nimbus 2001 and by the time she looked up again, he'd already gone.
N.B I know this chapter took a long time to come out, but the next one's probably going to take a while as well since I'm posting it as I write and I'm having trouble sorting out the plot. (In fact, this could be taken down for editing.) Nasty Draco is coming up so if you like your Draco fluffy… read something else.