Time Period: About 7 years after school. Harry is about 24 & flashbacks of his 7th year at Hogwarts.
Spoilers: Hopefully you've read all the books and book five. But it doesn't matter to much. If characters are dead... it's because it's implied that they died in the passing time period. ;D Did that make sense? I hope so. :x
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Hogwarts
7th Year (November 13th continued)
The air outside was crisp and cold, the sun hiding in the clouds. Draco breathed it in, feeling himself shiver from the inside out. His fingertips trailed over his broom, which was freshly polished, as he made his way to the field.
As the pitch came into view, he noticed the trunk, open, just a few feet from the entrance.
A swoosh passed him, a red and gold blur.
"Potter." Draco sneered, mounting his broom. He searched the sky, looking for the glint of the snitch. Then there was Harry, floating just before the goal posts, his green eyes shimmering with gold flecks. Draco watched him, ready to take off, as Harry came into a dive, coming just above Draco's head.
Draco didn't need any more of an invitation, he thrust himself up, soaring hundreds of feet within seconds.
The next couple of minutes were a blur.
Green, black, silver, red, gold, more black... all mixing together as the wings of the snitch taunted it's seekers. Soon both boys were breathing hard, stopped in mid-air. They didn't talk, but stared at one another, eyes burning with the heat of the game.
Suddenly Draco dove, Harry following suit. The scene was too familiar, but the outcome was unknown.
Then, at the exact moment, two pairs of hands lurched forward, grabbing blindly at empty air.
Draco fell forward, toppeling the 12 feet to the ground.
He was breathing harshly, coughing from the cold air in his lungs. He sat for a moment, idly brushing himself off with his fists.
Draco opened his right fist, feeling the battered wings of the tiny golden ball brush his palm...
He'd caught it.
Harry hadn't.
Putting his other arm behind him, Draco pushed himself up from the dirt. But, just as he'd gotten himself standing straight, he was shoved sideways. Balancing himself, he turned to face Harry.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Malfoy?"
"Beating you at your own game, so it would seem." He fought the urge to sneer, he really did, but he couldn't stop himself.
After all, this occasion was perfect one for it.
Harry glowered, his eyes squinted in unwanted frustration, his hair windblown.
Draco, quite the opposite of Harry, was smirking, his blonde hair well geled back and his pale cheeks pink with the cold.
Draco looked as if he'd just taken a beautiful walk in the park, Harry looked like he'd run miles around him.
"Look, Potter, it's not my problem you can't even win a chase with the snitch."
Harry's fist was clenched. Draco looked down at him, at the bandage on his wrist, "Doesn't look like you're winning much of anything anymore, does it?" Draco drawled on, stepping closer, getting in Harry's face.
"What would you know about winning?"
Draco laughed, holding the snitch by it's frail wings.
"A bit more than you, actually. Or didn't you notice?"
Harry was slipping, letting Draco beat him like he did. He didn't want to show his hurt, the hurt caused by the snide remarks and the proof of his loss. Draco turned away, letting the snitch fly from his hand as he strutted away.
"Try again, Potter."
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