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Two days later…
It was a cloudy, cool day on the Quidditch pitch. Perfect weather for all those involved… it was Gryffindor versus Slytherin. The grandstands were packed, as they always were for this most anticipated match of the year. It was predicted to be even more exciting on this particular day since Harry Potter was taken off the roster due to the injury he'd sustained to his shoulder after an incident with one of Hagrid's new creatures. Ginny Weasley was taking his place, just as she'd successfully done two years before.
That being the case, said replacement was just as nervous as she had been the first time she'd taken his place. It was hard to fill Harry Potter's shoes... it was even harder to do so when Gryffindor was taking on Slytherin. This game alone knocked the two team's competitiveness a billion notches higher than a match between any of the other teams.
Ginny tried to control her quaking knees as she walked with the rest of her team to the middle of the pitch. The team captains, Draco and Ron, didn't bother with the hand-shake formality. The two, instead, settled for quick nods of their heads to acknowledge the other. It was as civil as the two boys would get under the watchful eye of Madame Hooch.
"Mount your brooms!" Madam Hooch's voice rang throughout the pitch. Ginny kicked off the ground and gave an audible gulp as she watched the big Slytherin goons, Crabbe and Goyle, do the same. The two were an intimidating pair of beaters and easily towered over any and all Gryffindor players. The chasers would have to watch out for the pair. Ginny was grateful she wasn't playing that particular position today.
Her mind snapped to the task at hand and her eyes immediately searched out her rival of the day. Draco Malfoy sat on his broomstick as if he belonged there. It had been spread about school after she'd arrived that only he and Harry Potter had excelled to levels beyond the normal wizard or witch in just their first year. She'd have to be at her best today to out fly the blond boy, especially knowing that his Slytherin nature was capable of anything in order to get the upper hand.
Despite all his internal ramblings at leaving the littlest Weasel to herself, Draco simply couldn't help it and found himself making his way closer to her.
"So, Potter got himself hurt and they've sent you to replace him. My, what were those Gryffindors thinking?" he asked. To be honest, he'd watched her play chaser at the last Gryffindor match and knew exactly what her teammates had been thinking in moving her to back-up seeker. She had talent on a broom and could very well grow into being an excellent seeker. It was a shame that the world of red and gold circled around Potter. There were many lost in his shadow…
"Oh, bugger off, Malfoy," Ginny growled, her eyes watching the two teams take their positions. Draco smirked as the two of them took their own spots just slightly above the teams.
"Now, now, Weasley. That's not very sportsman-like," he said as he continued to fly lazily next to her.
"I'm surprised you know the concept," she said back, her eyes on the lookout for the snitch.
"You'd be amazed at what I know," he told her. Ginny rolled her eyes.
"I doubt it, very much," she said. Suddenly, and quicker than ever expected, a golden object flitted between the two, heading behind them towards the stands where the professors usually sat. Ginny and Draco looked at each other, each trying to anticipate the other's move. Draco gave her another smirk.
"Looks like we're off, Weasel," he said.
"Looks like, Ferret," she answered as she re-gripped her broom, preparing to do a quick turnabout.
"May the best rodent win, then," he told her cheekily as he dove quickly down, then up again and the righted himself to follow the path of their quarry. It was a spectacular move and gave him the advantage over Ginny's slower reaction as she followed after him. Draco Malfoy may have the superior flying ability between the two of them, but she had the advantage of being slightly smaller and lighter. It took her a matter of a few seconds to catch up to the tail end of the Slytherin's broom.
Cheers erupted in the stands as the game began in earnest, Ginny pushing inches closer after each second that passed. The two flew around the pitch at high rates of speed trying to catch the elusive game piece barely aware of each other's presence, both focused completely on the snitch.
Just then, a bludger narrowly missed the pair as they zoomed down closer to the pitch. It took some fancy flying on both of their parts to avoid the blasted thing, as well as each other, and then miss the ground as their avoidance took them perilously close to it. The cheers had quieted down as all eyes watched the two seekers right themselves. The only problem now was they had both lost sight of the snitch. Ginny heard Draco cursing under his breath and had to chuckle slightly at his originality. She mentally added a few curse words of her own as her eyes scanned the pitch again, hoping to catch a flash of gold.
The game dragged on for a long hour with the chasers of Gryffindor and Slytherin scoring on the other occasionally letting the score stand at Slytherin two goals ahead of Gryffindor. The Gryffindor chasers were putting up a fight, but without Ginny's aggressive agility they were having trouble keeping up with the Slytherin chaser's equally aggressive bulkiness. It was easier for the green and silver team to just roll over the smaller chasers.
Ginny smiled to herself as she heard a Gryffindor cheer erupt, signaling that one of her teammates had gotten a quaffle through the ring. They were only a score behind so far. All she needed to do was to find the snitch and end the blasted game. As if conjured by her thought, her eye caught on a gold flash just above the announcer's stand.
The flurry of green robes to her right told her that Draco had seen the snitch as well and she kicked herself into gear to catch up with the faster broom. The two of them picked up speed as they chased the winged object through the myriad of spectator stands, shouts and cheers picking up volume as the student body realized that the game was close to being decided. After a few quick loops around the pitch, Ginny pulled flush with Draco and spared the blond boy a quick glance, her ponytail whipping into her eyes as she did so. They were both focused on the golden snitch flittering now just beyond an arm's reach. Knowing that a seventeen-year-old boy's reach was going to be better than hers, Ginny willed her broom forward to give herself a fighting chance against the Slytherin seeker. With a smirk of triumph she reached her hand out to grip the elusive Quidditch piece. It caught her by surprise when her arm was tugged to her right. A collective gasp rolled through the Quidditch pitch stands. With wide eyes and a tug of her own, she looked to her rival to see his stormy grey eyes narrowed at her. From what Ginny could gather, he was equally surprised as her.
"Let go, Weasley, I caught it first," he hissed at her as their brooms began to slow and find their way to the ground. He gave another tug that almost displaced her from her seat. But Ginny just held on for dear life – to both her broom and the snitch.
"You did not, you cheating wanker. I caught it first," she hissed back. Draco landed first and gave a vicious tug on a wing of gold ball in their hands causing her to tumble off her broom. Thankfully, she'd landed on her padded knees. Another vicious tug from the Slytherin pulled her to her feet.
"Give it up, it's mine," Draco growled, glaring down at her. Ginny gave a yank on the wing she had a hold of, but it was no good. Her angry brown eyes looked up at him.
"It's mine… and I'll kick your arse but good if you don't leave off, you spoiled, arrogant git," she bit out. Draco smirked at her, his six foot some frame towering not too far over her own tall body.
"I'd like to see you try, Weasley," he sneered, completely unaware that the two teams had all landed and were making their way to where the two seekers were squabbling over their prize. The two continued to pull the gold object between them like children fighting over a toy.
"Give it to him, Weasley," a Slytherin player growled. "Or we'll make you give it to him…" There was a leering chuckle amongst the sea of green behind Draco. Their seeker gave a quick, malicious look over his shoulder, causing them to shut up. But it didn't satisfy Ron's temper as he moved closer to Ginny.
"Don't you rotters ever threaten my sister," he growled at them before looking at Draco. "It'd be in your best interest to give over the snitch. She caught it fair and square…"
"Or you'll what, Weasel King? Blush us all to death?" Draco drawled.
"Well, Draco, it is the only thing he seems to excel at, no matter how useless…" Blaise Zabini commented, stepping up next to the blond.
"Why you…" Ron seethed as he stepped forward. Hermione had made it to the confrontation just in time to grip his red and gold robes to hold him back and hiss out a "No, Ron". The Slytherins all snickered as they saw this.
"Ah… Granger. Couldn't have a friendly chat without the mudblood," Draco smirked. Madame Hooch broke into the impending fray with a loud whistle.
"Enough!" she yelled, then turned to Draco. "I suggest you watch your language, Mr. Malfoy. I expect better of a seventh year. If I catch that rubbish coming out of your mouth one more time you will be serving detention every night up until graduation. Am I understood?" Draco stood up straight, chin going up, in acknowledgement of her question. Then, the quidditch referee took stock of the rest of the situation.
"Now…" her commanding voice called all eyes to where the outcome of the match resided. "… it seems to me there has been a simultaneous catching of the snitch. I've rarely seen a match having to be decided this way… but seeing as neither party is willing to relinquish hold, then we shall have to improvise. Miss Weasley, you shall receive 75 points for Gryffindor." The cheer that went up from her teammates was almost deafening. "Mr. Malfoy, you shall receive 75 points for Slytherin…" The Slytherin's cheer was equally loud. But then silence fell as the final point total was calculated. Ginny and Draco continued to grip the snitch and scowl at each other. Finally, a loud voice broke their stare.
"The final score for today's match…" Colin Creevy's voice started. It was cut with a quick groan. "Gryffindor 195, Slytherin 205. Slytherin has won the match!" A mixture of cries went up around the stadium as the echo of the scores faded. Team Gryffindor stared at the other team with a combination of anger and shock. The one goal they'd trailed by had cost them the game. The Slytherins were too busy celebrating to care, or to taunt the others with their victory. The red-robed bunch began their walk of defeat back to their locker rooms amid grumbling. Just as Ginny turned, a firm grip locked itself around her upper arm. The hand she'd flung up to ward off the arm was caught by her wrist.
"Where are you off to, little Gryffindor?" a deep drawl asked. Her eyes went up to the hard, smirking face of the Slytherin chaser she'd routed off repeatedly during the game. She suddenly wished she'd hurried after Ron, Harry and Hermione.
"I'm off, away from you," Ginny spat out as she struggled to get out of the boy's grip.
"Don't be like that, little Gryff… we just want to celebrate, is all," the boy said, his eyes alighting behind him for a second to where two of his hulking buddies were approaching. The grip on her wrist transformed into a crude mockery of what could be called a caress. Anger and fear warred within her, the anger quickly taking the majority.
"Let me go, you slimy git," she said. "Go find some Slytherin to celebrate with…" A beefy finger came up to run across her cheek making her skin crawl.
"But I have a sweet little Gryffindor right here," he said, causing his two friends to chuckle.
"For heaven's sake, Warrington, don't touch it," a voice came from behind. All faces turned to see Draco Malfoy standing a few feet away leaning casually on his broom with a look of disgust at the thought of a Slytherin touching a Gryffindor. His look quickly transformed to 'bored'.
"Oh, come on, Malfoy. We're just having a bit of fun. You of all people should understand that," the Slytherin sixth-year said with a quick smirk. Draco's lip lifted in a wry smile, making him look dangerous.
"Oh, I would understand perfectly if it were the usual insults and general mayhem. But if you lay one finger on her, my Head Boy badge will obligate me to report you. You wouldn't put me in such a position, now would you, Warrington?" he asked. The three Slytherins looked at each other, and then looked at Draco. Being the undisputed power in the Slytherin House, Draco knew he had them.
Ginny watched in fascination as the three Slytherins backed away from her. She wasn't naïve… she knew exactly what kind of "celebrating" the three large boys had wanted. But that wasn't what had her transfixed. It was the fact that Draco Malfoy seemed to have a sense of decency. Of all people, she'd expected him to join in the taunts or to walk away without a care, leaving her to his "friends".
"C'mon gents, back to the common room," Warrington said after giving Ginny one more appraising look. The other two turned and followed him away from the now empty pitch. Ginny watched them go, her heart rate returning somewhat to normal, before she turned to Malfoy.
"Why did you do that?" she asked softly. Draco sneered, ruining whatever 'thanks' that sat at the tip of her tongue.
"Don't think it was out of the goodness of my heart, Weasley," he said, surprising her with his sudden acerbic tone. Ginny's eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Oh, I doubt I would think that even if you had one, Ferret. I just want to know why you didn't just let them finish their little game. Surely it would have been amusing to you. Poor little Gryffindor being bullied by big, bad Slytherins. I though you gits got off on that," she said with bite.
"Oh? Feeling neglected, are we, Weasley?" he asked smoothly, stepping closer to her. "Would you rather I play my little games with you?" Ginny tilted her head back slightly to look at him. There was a steely glint in his eye that warned her not to trifle with him… but there was also something she'd never seen in his eyes. It wasn't scorn or his perverted sense of amusement he got out of verbally pinning someone to the wall; it wasn't even that look that said the object of his attention meant nothing to him. It was a look that, on Draco Malfoy, was unclassifiable to her.
"I don't want games, Malfoy. I want to know why you helped me. Is it because you get some sort of twisted pleasure out of having a Weasley owe you? Because if that's the case, it was a wasted effort," she said.
"On that case we agree. A Weasley owing me anything would be a fruitless endeavor. You couldn't afford owing me," he said with an aristocratic lifting of his brow. Ginny's eyes narrowed.
"Well then, I can only conclude you were after my gratitude," she said. Draco scoffed.
"Gratitude? Please, Weasley. Don't insult me," he said.
"Oh? And if I asked the same of you, would you honor it?" she asked, crossing her arms. There was a quick twitch at the corner of Draco's lip.
"You're humorous, Weasley. Crude, poor and… redheaded… but quite funny," he said. Ginny gave him a mock incredulous look.
"Draco Malfoy just gave me a compliment? First, rescuing me from his fellow bullies. Now, a compliment. My, what is the world coming to?" she asked.
"Take it as you will. But I did not rescue you. I was using the opportunity to get one up on Warrington and his mates," he told her, a 'so there' smirk on his face. Ginny looked confused for a moment.
"Why? They're your cronies, are they not?" she asked, her arms re-crossing over her chest.
"If you think that I control all Slytherin with the snap of my fingers, you'd be mistaken, Weasley. For the most part, I don't give a thought to them. They have been taught to fear my name, not me. I have no respect for that," he said.
"Oh? Just as you all fear Voldemort?" she asked. Draco took a moment to admire the fact that she could say the Dark Lord's name without so much as a flinch.
"I do not fear Voldemort," he said simply, only slightly wary at the change of subject. Ginny looked slightly surprised.
"And that makes you the perfect heir for the Dark Lord, doesn't it?" she asked. Draco smirked.
"I'm not a Death Eater yet, Weasley. My time will come, and it will be more spectacular than the Dark Lord and Potter put together," he said. Ginny couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of disappointment.
"That eager, are we, to cause pain and bloodshed?" she asked. The blond's eyes narrowed.
"Do you expect mean, nasty, cruel Draco Malfoy to find redemption and fight along side your little band of misfits?" he sneered. Ginny's own eyes narrowed as she dropped her arms and stepped closer to him.
"You are not worth the wasted time," she growled and turned to walk away. He stopped her by grasping her wrist and turned her so his steel gray eyes bore into her own.
"What is redemption but wasted time? We all have demons inside that can never be vanquished. They are what make us who we are. They are the only masters we serve," he said. His grip on her wrist lightened somewhat. "That is why there is no right and wrong, no dark and light. This war will be a pompous test of strength, the strong versus the weak…. And the only true survivors will be those who are intelligent enough to stand in the shadows, pretending to be neither."
Ginny couldn't break his gaze after his bitter, cynical vocalization. It was the longest conversation, and the most revealing, of their acquaintance. His cryptic words echoed in her mind, but she couldn't make sense of them. And the thing that surprised her most was that she wanted to make sense of them. She wanted to understand what he was saying. And something in his eyes seemed desperate to make her understand…
"Ginny!" Ron and Hermione's voices broke into the shell that had enveloped both Ginny and Draco. The running pair was followed closely by Harry and Neville. Draco dropped her wrist as if it had burned him and took a step back, letting his usual scowl cross his face.
"Ah, the brave Gryffindors finally realized that they were missing something…" he drawled, stepping back.
"Shove off, Malfoy. Leave Ginny alone," Neville said. Draco's brow lifted at the usually quiet, stuttery boy.
"Grown into your shoes, have you Longbottom? Well, that takes the fun out of it for me, then," he said. The newly-arrived four glared at the blond, but only one noticed the over-long look between Ginny and Draco. After a moment, the Slytherin turned on his heel and headed towards the locker rooms.
"Are you alright, Ginny?" Harry asked, taking the question out of her brother's hands since he was too busy glaring at the retreating figure.
"I'm fine," she said in a voice that was stronger than she felt.
"What did the git say to you?" Ron asked, finally, the pink in his cheeks giving testament more to his seemingly endless agitation than to the chilly wind. Ginny let her eyes slide to her brother's.
"Nothing, Ron. Just his usual 'Weasleys are poor, red-haired muggle-lovers' speech," she said lightly. Hermione raised a disbelieving brow, but didn't say anything.
"Some Slytherins have mysteriously disappeared since last year… why couldn't the Ferret have been one of them?" Ron muttered darkly. Neville and Harry both smiled in agreement, but Hermione and Ginny both turned frowns on him.
"Don't wish bad things on others, Ronald. It's bad form," Hermione scolded. Ron let out a sputter.
"For Merlin's sake, 'Mione, it's bloody Malfoy… a Death Eater! He's wished us into oblivion gads of times. Not to mention, up until sixth year he had some sort of personal vendetta against you. I'd think you'd be cheering me on," he said. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"True, Malfoy has made my life uncomfortable at times, and his father has wished to eradicate muggles and half-bloods from the world entirely…" she said, stopping when she realized that she was starting to defend the boy.
"… but that's no reason to condemn a person for things we only suspect him of," Ginny finished for the older girl, causing the other four to look at her with surprise.
"You know how it's said… The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. It was his father that gave you that damned diary, Gin," Ron spat out.
"And it was his father that was among the Death Eaters at the Quidditch World Cup," Harry reminded her.
"And it was his father that was in the Ministry when we tried to rescue Sirius Black," Neville added quietly.
"We don't know that Malfoy wasn't sitting around there in a black robe with them watching Dear Old Dad wreaking havoc," Ron said. Ginny rolled her eyes.
"Do you notice the one similarity in all your prattling?" she asked. Ron, Harry and Neville looked between each other as Hermione rolled her eyes. Ginny let out a huff.
"You've all said 'his father'. Not one of us can help who we are related to. Harry…" she said, causing the dark-haired wizard to look at her. "You've your aunt's blood running through you. I don't see you as miserable as her. And Neville, your grandmum is a stony woman but you haven't turned out in her image. We Weasleys are pure-blooded wizards… there's bound to be unsavory blood running through us… yet here we are…" Ginny trailed off as each of her friends gave slight nods and looked to the ground. Then, her brother's head came up as he looked at her appraisingly for a silent moment.
"Why are you making excuses for Draco Malfoy?" Ron asked. All four pairs of eyes were now on her as she stuttered out an answer.
"I… I… don't know," she said honestly. Well, she did know, it's just that she wished she didn't. And it wasn't going to endear her to her brother if she explained what she knew… Maybe it was because Draco had helped her in front of his nasty Slytherin housemates. She was just returning the favor. It wasn't permanent. Ginny winced as she heard the comeback in her head - it was in Ron's outraged voice… By Merlin's beard, it had better well not be bloody permanent!
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