Draco groaned loudly as he rolled away from the beam of sunlight filtering through the open window of Grimauld Place. His head was pounding. The previous night they had gone out the night before, just the guys, and he'd gotten ridiculously drunk. He vaguely remembered Potter and Longbottom dragging him back to Grimauld Place. They'd plied him with enough drinks that he told them all what had happened with Hermione in the Leaky Cauldron earlier that week. Naturally they teased him mercilessly.
Rolling off the couch he launched a pillow at Longbottom who was passed out on the other side of the coffee table. "Oi, Longbottom. Get up. We've got a game today. Where's the hangover potions?" he grunted.
"I've got them." Potter said cheerily from the opposite direction. Draco whipped his head around so fast he fell off the couch. All three men burst out laughing before both Draco and Longbottom clutched their heads in pain. "Bottoms up boys." He laughed.
"Fuck. We're getting old." Draco moaned. "Who decided it was a good idea to get old?"
"Agreed." Longbottom grunted. "I watch all the students at school drinking their nights away. They think I don't know what they get up to, but we were young once too."
"You good?" Potter asked after the potions had the chance to work. Both Draco and Longbottom nodded and rose. "Grab your gear, let's head to the pitch." They each dropped their gear bags in front of the couch before heading upstairs to ready for their day. Potter looked up when the floo roared to life and blinked at his wife.
"Hiya Harry. Don't mind me. I'm not here." She said sweetly, kissing his cheek as she passed. She glanced toward the stairs quickly before using her wand to accio Draco's jersey out of his bag. "Shhh." She grinned, putting a finger to her lips. As footsteps descended the stairs she slipped back through the floo again.
"Who was that?" Draco asked, rubbing a towel through his damp hair.
"It was just Ron making sure we were all up." Potter lied. Draco leaned down and began rummaging in his bag for his jersey.
"Oi, Potter, have you seen my favorite jersey?" he asked. "I could have sworn I put it in here earlier."
"I haven't. Did you leave it at home after you washed it? Grab another from the closet." Potter suggested.
"That's my lucky jersey Potter."
"Yea it is." Potter muttered under his breath, finally realizing what had happened. "Get your backup. We'll be fine for this game." Draco disappeared back up the stairs to dig for a new jersey in the team closet. Twenty minutes later the three men were ready to head to the stadium. One by one they stepped through the floo with their gear.
The rest of the team was already in the locker room waiting for them when they arrived. They quickly went about readying to run a quick practice drill before it was time to play. The drills ran smoothly, with playful banter across the team, most of which was directed at Draco and his personal issues, but he took it.
Then it was time to play. They waited at the bottom of the pitch for each team to be introduced before zooming out. Draco flew in leisurely circles high above the pitch, reveling in the feel of the wind on his face before he circled back down to join the others.
"Oi Malfoy!" a chaser from the opposing team called out to him. "Who's that goddess in your box?"
"That's Potter's wife you moron." Draco snorted.
"Not her. The other one." The chaser said, "The one wearing your jersey." Draco's eyes flew to the team box and locked eyes with none other than Hermione Granger. He nearly fell off his broom in surprise. Hermione Granger was at a Quidditch game. Hermione Granger was at a Quidditch game wearing his jersey.
"Mine." He hissed at the other chaser. The other chaser laughed loudly, drawing the attention of several other players. He hovered in the air, just staring at her as she smiled shyly at him before he threw her a smirk and flew off to meet Potter for the coin toss.