by Jas

Perr would like to thank a rather enthusiastic HoneySky for reviewing. We really appreciate the praise! :)

Harry's POV

Nothing much happened, the past few days. Not since the night Malfoy appeared in my mirror. It's the morning of the Gryffindor v Slytherin match, and I'm feeling a little pre-game-anxiety.
As I walk to the Great Hall, people keep wishing me 'good luck.' Not that I believe in luck.
Halfway through breakfast, I catch yet another Malfoy-smirk from the Slytherin table.
The rest of the school pours out onto the pitch. I collect my broom and stroll to the dressing room. Ginny runs past me, wishing me well. From behind comes a drawl, "Yeah, you're gonna need the luck, Potter." No surprise. It's Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. "Better watch out yourself, Draco." I dash into the Gryffindor changing room before anything happens.



As we step onto the pitch, Madam Hooch is already waiting. Both captains shake hands. "Mount your brooms..." Madam Hooch blows the whistle and the players shoot up in the sky.
I circle above the rest looking out for the Golden Snitch. Malfoy is doing the same. I have this urge to get back at him.
After only 10 minutes into the game, I see the Snitch. It is around one of the Slytherin goal posts. I decide not to make a dive for it, because Malfoy might notice too. So I direct my broomstick towards the goal post and pretend to be looking for the Snitch... Got it. ...Hey! No one seems to notice that I have caught the Snitch! Maybe... Maybe I can trick Malfoy with a Wronski Feint now.
With the Snitch in one hand, I speed towards the ground. Malfoy follows suit, gathering speed.

In the background, commentator Lee Jordan says, "Seems like the Snitch has been spotted. The two Seekers are chasing after it. C'mon Harry!"
"Jordan!" Professor McGonagall snaps.
"Oops, sorry Professor."

Malfoy is falling for it, hook, line and sinker, no pun intended. Just as we are about to smash into the ground, I pull up the broom handle, and steady myself.
CRASH. Malfoy and his broomstick roll on the ground. He looks like a rag doll. Then a shriek from the Slytherin stands. Probably Pansy Parkinson.
It was only then that Madam Hooch realizes I already have the Snitch. She blows the whistle to signal the end of the match.
What the hell am I doing? I jump off my broom and bend over Malfoy, whose nose is bleeding profusely; arm broken. It is amazing he's still conscious. "Are you alright?!" I am shocked at the tone of my voice. Malfoy mutters something. I can't hear it, but I'm sure he's cursing me. I feel horrible. Suddenly winning this match doesn't seem all that important anymore.
Madam Hooch rushes over with her wand out, "Ferula!" Malfoy's broken arm is now held in a sling. She brings him to the Hospital Wing. I don't know why I want to follow them, but I am surrounded by the other Gryffindors anyway, all celebrating a victory over Slytherin.