Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

Draco Gets Bashed Again

There were just a few days until the Easter holidays, followed by quidditch, and the entire school was vibrating. Potions and Care of Magical Creatures had gotten tenser than ever between the Slytherin and Gryffindor houses. Care of Magical Creatures was by far the worst, simply because Hagrid had gone to pieces over Buckbeak. Draco was watching his step around Ryua about it, but when surrounded by a full class of students, he apparently felt quite safe.

"Look at him blubber! Have you ever seen anything quite as pathetic? And he's supposed to be our teacher!" Draco was chortling to a group of his little followers about Hagrid. Ryua, who was chatting about quidditch with Ron and Harry, turned to him, drawing her wand. Harry and Ron weren't nearly so subtle, they just raised fists. To everyone's surprise, however, Hermionie got there first. With the force of the blow that rocked him back, Ryua was surprised his nose didn't break, and also wondered where gentle, book-and-magic-loving little Hermionie had learned to punch like that.

"Don't you dare call Hagrid pathetic, you foul, you evil..." Unfortunately, Ron restrained her before she could finish what promised to be a fantastic insult. Struggling out of his arms, Hermionie pulled out her wand and pointed it at Draco's throat. A look of fear crossed his face, which he tried to cover by acting all cool as he beat a retreat to the dungeons.

"That was truly fantastic, Hermionie! Nice punch. And, I've got Transfiguration, so goodbye!" Ryua followed the rest of the Slytherins to the castle, leaving Harry and Ron to congratulate her on their way to Charms.

The teachers seemed determined to load them down with homework for Easter, which was either good or bad depending on you point of view. Bad, because you couldn't relax and enjoy the time off, good because they were busy enough that Father didn't make the twins come home. And as if essays, projects, and reports weren't enough, Marcus had taken to waking his team up early twice a week to practice for the upcoming match.

"If we can get the snitch before Gryffindor is 370 points ahead, we win. I don't suppose you lot think that's possible?"

"Well, when you put it that way... we might be able to pull it off." Warrington replied sarcastically.

"We'll be fine." Ryua said as the morning sun started to illuminate the top turrets of Hogwarts behind them. "I seriously doubt Gryffindor could get 37 goals past me."

"Yeah. Draco! This is mostly your game. If Gryffindor can get even six goals, then Potter catches that snitch, they win the cup. The deck's stacked in our favor here. Unless something drastic happens, we're a cinch to win. That is, if you can catch that little gold ball."

"Oh, come on. Of course I can catch it. I did against Chang and Diggory, remember?"

"Yeah, but you keep showing off against Potter. Keep it focused, Malfoy."

And so they practiced. During their scheduled practices Tuesday and Thursday, and on their own any time they were ambitious and the pitch was open. Which wasn't actually very often. Slytherin was known for its cunning and ruthlessness, not it's hard work.

That ruthlessness came into play the day of the match. Although Professor Snape had convinced them that sabotaging the Gryffindor team before the match started would get them kicked off the team, Flint's strategy stayed the same. Beat them. And not just win, literally, beat them. Bludgers, vicious passes, arms, brooms, bats, everything illegal or not was to be used. The only thing was they couldn't get themselves expelled or kicked off. Fine by me, Ryua thought, the only one I would mind hurting is Harry, and he's no concern of mine.

It was truly the most vicious match Ryua had ever witnessed. Although Gryffindor was probably going to have trouble playing against their dirty tactics, it also gave them a lot of free shots. And the real problem was, those chasers had been practicing an awful lot. Even with her team's help, Ryua was having trouble catching the shots, and all those stupid fouls they kept awarding to Gryffindor negated even that little support. Ryua cursed as Bole's bludger, which Johnson ducked, smashed into her right shoulder, pulling her off balance for the chaser's shot. She flexed her arm, wincing as she tried to extend it. Oh, well, she would live. "Flint!" she bellowed across the field as she hurtled the quaffle left-handed at him, "Bloody well do something useful, will you?"

He raised his hand in recognition as he flew off towards the far end. Apparently as fed up with losing as Ryua, he stubbornly wove through enough defenses to get a clear shot at the goal hoops. Ryua breathed a sigh of relief when the quaffle finally made it through the hoop, scoring them ten points. "Come on, Draco," she muttered as she scanned for her brother, "Catch the bloody thing, would you? This is one hell of a team we're up against, and we can't win just by scoring one goal."

One thing Marcus hadn't expected was for the Gryffindor team to get just as nasty as they were. The Weasley twins had quite a violent streak in them, and were starting to pick up the dirty game on their side. Unfortunately, left handed, she had real problems catching many goals. She looked up at the announcement of Gryffindor's seventh goal (I know, you idiot, you don't have to crow it to the field) to see Potter streaking for the snitch just above. No! Draco seemed to be having the same thought. He leapt forward and hung off Harry's broom. Spinnet got a penalty shot of course, which she missed, but the important thing was that Harry lost the snitch. Even better, Montague got a goal on Wood, bringing the score back to breathing range.

Ryua looked back down to the field to see Johnson receive the quaffle, and Marcus give the mob signal. After seeing a group of jays take down an osprey for a fish, they'd come up with this play. Draco stayed after the snitch, but everyone else abandoned their post and flew straight at the opposing chaser. Unfortunately, Harry noticed this and decided to break it up. She stifled a scream when his broom tail knocked her shoulder backwards, turning the spin into a streak back to the goalposts. Still fighting a wave of nausea from the pain, she managed to pass Johnson, but couldn't focus enough to get between her and the posts to block the shot. Listing to one side, Ryua didn't even bother to scoop up the quaffle. Draco and Harry were hurtling towards the ground for the snitch, and it was out of her hands now.

And, apparently, out of Draco's. Harry's skill and superior broom inched him ahead to grab the snitch. Somewhere in her befuddled head, she felt a little happiness that her friend had won the cup, and somewhere else sorrow and anger that they hadn't. Mostly, though, she just wanted to go lie down somewhere.

In the change rooms, most of the team looked similar. Bole and Derrick had suffered a head-on collision earlier, Warrington had gotten smashed by a bludger, Montague had been thrown into the stands by Harry's breakup dive, Draco was in shock over being so close, and Marcus' nose was still trickling blood from where Weasley's club had bounced it off of his broom handle. He still managed to come over and pull Ryua off her broom onto a bench, however, pulling back when she gasped with pain. "Dislocated," he pronounced after a slight examination, "No wonder you were having so much trouble. You should go to the hospital wing..."

"No!' Ryua shook her head. Madam Pomfrey would want to see her shoulder, which meant she would see her back, covered in curse scars. "No, Marcus, just put it back in..."

"You've got to be joking. You need treatment."

"I'll live. Just put it back in, and let me go sleep for a while, alright?"

"Okay, if you're sure..." he gently took her arm and maneuvered it around. With a pained look, he forced it back into place with a rather revolting pop. Ryua doubled over at the accompanying flash of pain, then forced herself upright, rotating her arm.

"Thanks," she said in a hoarse voice, "It'll be fine now. Go up and get the rest of yourselves treated, I'm going down to the dorms..."

"Okay. Wait, get Pansy or Millicent to go too. I don't want you falling down a staircase."

"Good idea..." she walked carefully out, relieved to find the two girls already waiting outside the pitch.

"Merlin's beard, Ryua, you look awful!"

"Thanks."

"Oh, I didn't mean it like that..."

"I know, I know, just help me down to the dorms, okay?"

"Yeah, sure... Millicent, come here." There were times when having friends as big, cautious, quiet, and slow as Millicent were very good. She carefully guided Ryua down the stairs, and pulled the talkative Pansy out after her, leaving Ryua to drift off into a deep sleep.