Quidditch practice had resumed, and the hours had become unbearable. Draco didn't seem to care if he lost players over the cup, and he was willing to go to any length to keep it. even wreak havoc on their sleep schedule Practices were resumed two weeks after school started to allow the players to settle in, or perhaps because the pitch was unavailable for the first two weeks.
Harry had always enjoyed the game, so he approached the torture sessions with as much zeal as he could muster at 5 a.m. Despite their groans and complaints, it appeared that Draco was not deterred, as his early practices continued.
He loved and supported his brother, but he was about to curse something if he was told to 'suck it up and run Malfoy' one more time. But the time had come to see if their long hours of labor had paid off.
It was customary for him to rise early on match day, so he wasn't surprised to see a large number of people already seated at the table, as he would have been on any other day. He took a bite of freshly made toast with a thin layer of butter spread on it.
He felt someone's gaze on him as he walked around the hall, and he came into direct eye contact with Padama Patel. She was one of the many twins who arrived at Hogwarts, Gryffindor, if he recalls correctly.
He turned to Blaise, who sat next to him today, scrunching his nose in disgust at the eyes she was making at him.
"Patel is making goo-goo eyes at you Malfoy," Blaise said, nudging him.
"Yes, I can see that," Harry said, looking at him curiously. Blaise had spent the entire year looking for someone who piqued his interest. It's a shame he couldn't tell him he was taken.
He sarcastically said, "I like to be the one bending Blaise."
"Whore," pansy murmured as she sat beside a dozing Draco in her sleepy state.
He retorted, "fuck you Parkinson."
That jolted Draco awake.
"Don't swear, Harry," he said, yawning.
"Yes, father," he said, smirking at Draco's expression.
With the rest of them trailing behind, he rose from his seat and began walking to the locker room for a team meeting. He waved his hands to Blaise, who had entered the designated viewing area to watch the game.
As he entered the locker rooms, he gave everyone a friendly nod and expanded his broom. Today, losing was not an option. Whether it was hell or high water, he was going to win.
He knew it was time when he heard loud cheering. As he strode over to the opening from which they flew out, he breathed deeply and waited for his turn.
"AND SLYTHERIN CHASER HADRIAN MALFOY, LOOKING FIT AS EVER MIGHT I ADD", Jordan added cheekily. Ducking his head when McGonagall glared at him.
Harry took to the air and spun around on his broom, soaking up the sun. He gave Jordan a wink as he wandered over to his spot. He searched the stadium for his father's bright blonde hair, which stood out like a beacon.
His father had never missed a game, and it was his way of expressing his pride in them. He finally saw his father and waved, but his hand trembled as he noticed the man standing next to him.
Marvalo. His father had brought Voldemort, the fucking Dark Lord to Hogwarts, for a quidditch match. Was he imagining things? he shook his head trying to clear it. However, as soon as the whistle blew, his focus returned to the game. He swooped down and grabbed the quaffle as it flew through the air, then flew over to the goalposts.
He dodged a bluddger as he flew over to the goalposts, tossing the quaffle to Warrington for the distraction.
As the goalkeeper flew in the direction of his faint, he caught the quaffle again and faked a throw, hurling it to the opposite post. The Slytherin stand cheered as it flew straight through. First score.
The real game began now. The Gryffindors were already on the way to losing. He smiled proudly as he looked up to see if his brother was looking for the snitch.
For a while, the game went on, with Potter pulling a Wronski feint but Draco not falling for it.
"Slytherin, that's 120 to 70." The crowd cheered as Jordan mumbled the scores morosely over the microphone, "Looks like the lions are having a tough time."
He grinned, and the crowd fell silent as Draco raced past him in pursuit of the golden ball that would decide the match, with Potter close behind. Harry hurled the quaffle at the Ravenclaw goalpost again, but Weasely was too preoccupied with the chase to notice.
This was the best opportunity to score points and put them ahead of the game. As he made another pass to Montague, he returned his focus to the game. Harry was unconcerned about the seekers because he had a match to win.
As he ducked under another and flew to a low level, then zoomed to the goalpost at neck-breaking speed, weaving through bludgers was second nature to him. He backflipped and threw the bludger just as Draco grasped the snitch, causing the crowd to go insane.
Draco ran up to him and hugged him tightly as he flew down to the pitch.
Draco muttered into his neck, "Had to steal my thunder, didn't you?"
Draco screeched in Harry's arms as Harry spun him around, still high from the victory.
"Of course, Draco," he smirked, "it's what I do."
As his father stared in disbelief, he turned around and spotted Luna and ran towards her, looping her into a hug.
"Way to go, har," Luna said.
"Thanks, Luna," he said, his cheeks flushed from adrenaline. "Did you enjoy the game?"
She tittered back, "I like all your silly games." He smiled once more.
As his father approached him to congratulate him, Marvalo stood behind him, suspiciously staring at Luna, who had just returned a dazzling smile, his eyes narrowed even more.
And it hit Harry like a freight train at that precise moment. He had to persuade this obstinate man to cleanse or risk losing him for good.
He groaned in the privacy of his own mind. Luna smirked at his pleading expression.