Vanity 2

It did not surprise Draco that he saw the snitch before Chang, the Ravenclaw seeker did. In fact, he wondered why she was a seeker at all: all she seemed to be doing was scanning the crowd, looking for someone.

He considered the idea of prolonging the game and allowing his chasers to obliterate the opposition, but he decided against it. He was feeling a little tired, and he was ready for the Slytherin after party.

He dove casually for the snitch. A huge gasp resounded in the stadium. Chang began to chase him. It was all too easy. When his fingers enclosed upon the sleek, cool metal, the audience exploded into response. The Slytherin quarter of the stands cheered, but it was the resounding boos from the other three fourths that swallowed him. He was furious. Had his team not just played a clean game?

And for that matter, had not Ravenclaw played a pretty miserable game? Fifteen fouls, total. That was typical of Slytherins, not others.

Stomping past his jubilant teammates, he entered the locker room. After a quick shower and change of clothes he was feeling fresher, if not satisfied. And when you are a Malfoy, being fresh was almost as important as being satisfied.

He walked back to the school. All of the fans had drifted back up to the school, and his teammates had disappeared undoubtedly to the victory celebration. In fact, all seemed quiet. This suited Draco just fine.

But wait! What was that sound over behind the bushes. He snuck closer and grinned when he recognized voices.

It was Granger and the Weasel.

He was about to reveal himself but stopped grinning gleefully as he heard what Granger was saying.

"Ron, I don't think you understand. I love you as a brother—nothing more. I know this may hurt you, but we can't be anything but friends."

"What? Hermione, you love me. You know you do. You just don't-"

"Ron, no I don't!"

There was a little sound of a struggle. "Don't try that again, Ron. I-I-I don't want to lose our friendship."

"What friendship?" the Weasel shouted and stalked out of the hining place, oblivious to Draco.

Draco strolled into Granger's view.

"Trouble in paradise?" he asked, smirk firmly attached. Granger was crying!

"Go away." She said fiercely. It was actually kind of pathetic.

"Don't like it when Weasley attempts to snog you? And here I thought you were the perfect couple?" he said in a syrupy sweet voice.

"Go to hell."

He leaned forward. "What would you know about hell? Either way I'd rather go to hell than go try to be friends with those losers. What? Still crying or is that where Weasel slobbered on you?" He mentally gave himself a pat on the back as Grnger furiously wiped her mouth with her sleeve.

He turned to go. He couldn't resist a parting shot. "Maybe Weasley is the best you could do. I mean it isn't very often that a mudblood gets a pureblood, even a muggle-loving idiot like him."

He stalked off in the direction of the school, feeling satisfied and fresh. Now his only problem was finding himself a drink. He was thirsty. The after-party would have some butterbeer. That would do.