A/N: Well, I'm sure Draco would much appreciate your vote of confidence… Not sure Harry would do the same...
..oo00oo..
Draco
Well, this is it, I guess. I've had it all the way up to here! And I don't care anymore, Oliver wants me back, he's apologised, or will apologise properly as soon as I get him all alone and that's all that matters right now. Right- and the seeker's game…
I've never actually played a seeker's game before, I know they do it in professional teams where they have reserve seeker on 'stock' but here it's hard enough to find seven willing and able people without having to find them replacements. And once again it's me versus Potter, only this time it's really- me versus Potter. No beaters, no chasers, no keepers, no quaffle and no bludgers, just me, Potter and the snitch. This is my last opportunity to show that I'm every bit as good as Potter, that his damn luck is just that- luck. I mean I've been playing Quidditch since I was six (in various degrees of success, of course) and that bloody scarhead didn't even mount a broom before the age of eleven, this hardly seems fair.
During my Quidditch career (well, I always wanted to say that…) I've learned a thing or two about the competition. One of the major things I learned, was never diss it. And over the years I've learned what to expect from every seeker. Take Hufflepuff for example, they're not bad players (and if you tell anyone I said that I'll find out where you live and do really bad things to your genitals!), they're just not very sophisticated. You can pretty much count on the Hufflepuff seeker to rely on strength and speed- no tricky moves or deceptions, pretty standard and very easy to follow. Ravenclaw on the other hand… Ravenclaws don't handle Quidditch too well- too much unexpected factors to work out, too little stability. They can work out charts till their overlarge brains are on fire but once something that wasn't in those charts happens on the pitch they lose their heads. Even their lovely Miss Chang couldn't cope with the pressure. Oliver calls her the Kournikova of Quidditch, I guess it's some sort of a move- live Wronski Feint or something…
But Gryffindor is a whole different story, and when I say Gryffindor I of course mean Potter, since he's the only other Gryffindor seeker I ever played against. Oliver once told me that he taught Potter everything he knows about Quidditch, so I guess he's the one to blame for how Potter handles a game. I'm not exactly sure what Oliver's exact words were but if Potter's behaviour is any indication I'd say they ran along the lines of "You need to focus on the snitch and forget everything else that goes on the pitch", because that's the way Potter is playing in a nutshell. He doesn't care about the other seeker, the chasers, beaters or what not, for him it's just man and snitch.
I always notice the other players, mostly the seeker- and adopt my method of playing accordingly. With Hufflepuffs it's always best to keep close to the other seeker and try to confuse them. Not only is it great fun but it usually throws them out sorts and makes it easier to beat to the snitch. The Ravenclaws… well, them it's best to ignore really, they can give you a real headache with their erratic flying and their nervous tattering. With Potter it's best to follow him around. Not only is it the best chance to grab the snitch (or at least appear like you're about to catch it) but it also drives Potter insane- which is always an added bonus.
But right now it's just Potter, me and the snitch on the field and it's going to take extra concentration on my part to be able to survive this. Mostly because Oliver decided to perch himself in the middle of the field, hovering on his broom with a smug expression like he's the world luckiest bastard who scored the best seats ever to a match, although, his smug expression could be because he's currently ogling my arse, in fact, I very much hope for his sake that he is ogling my arse otherwise I shall be very put out.
I followed Potter with my eyes, he was dead focused on his task, brows knitted together and biting his lip. I smiled to myself and started looking for the elusive snitch as well, but always keeping an eye on Potter. He didn't look at me once. After a few false alarms- one that nearly brought to our collision, I found myself in one end of the pitch while Potter was on the other. And then I suddenly saw it, glinting and hovering in the centre of the middle hoop on the far end of the pitch. I chanced a quick glance at Potter trying to assess our distances from the snitch; Potter seemed to be roughly ten feet farer than me, not to mention looking in the wrong direction. If I take off now in full speed I should have about twenty feet head-start by the time he'll catch on, and so I did. I aligned myself nearly vertically on the broom handle and took off, the wind whistling in my ears and stinging in my eyes. I could hear the muffled cry behind me that signalled that Potter was catching on, hopefully a second too late.
My eyes were so focused on the snitch that only when I was only mere feet away from it that I spotted a problem. The snitch was inside the goal hoop! That meant that if I wanted to catch it I had to either manoeuvre really quickly around the posts- which were a near impossible task in the speed I was going or go right through the goal hoop. Fuck, bullocks and bugger! As I drew closer and closer I instinctively closed my eyes and tried to make myself as small as possible. In the last possible minute my eyes popped open and I reached forward, plucking the little ball off the air and rushing through the golden orb. When I finally managed to slow down and change direction so that I was able to come to a complete stop I was rather shaken, I cannot believe I did it- this is so like Potter to execute such suicidal manoeuvring… I looked down at my hands, one was clutching the broom handle so tight I had a feeling they would need to pray it off with a spell while the other was shaking uncontrollably. Not only shaking but also sprouted some strange flimsy wings… Wait!
I brought my right hand to my face, turning it so that I could see the little snitch peering through my fingers, desperately trying to get away from me. The snitch, in my hand, I have the snitch in my hand. I have the snitch in my hand and I just flew through the goal hoop. I have the snitch in my hand which means that the game is over. The game is over and I won. I won. I bloody WON!
Without thinking I lifted my hand high up in the air and smiled broadly. I won. Against Potter, for the first time in six years- I won! I heard the shrill whistle coming from somewhere to my left and turned to see Oliver flying towards me, looking rather flushed and not too happy…
"Draco," He hissed when he reached me, while the entire audience exploded with cheers and boos around us. "Do you have some sort of death wish?" I blinked at him several times before giving him a bright smile,
"Look Ollie, I won." Oliver rolled his eyes and bit his lip to keep hold of the grin that was threatening to split his face,
"Prat."
"I love you." I said before I could stop myself and this time he let the grin take over,
"I love you too; don't ever frighten me again like that!" He chided me and all I wanted to do was to jump off my broom and onto his and snog him senseless because this has to be the best day of my life- ever! But before I could get the snog of a lifetime I so rightly deserved Oliver turned his broom slightly and gave me a half smile, "Come on." I pouted after his retreating back but had little choice than follow, because once his eyes were no longer at me my ears sort of popped and I could suddenly hear the cacophony that was going on around me. I looked down and saw the rest of the Slytherin team flying down to the pitch, followed at a slower pace by the rest of the house, scrambling to get out of their stand. Before I could fly down to join them there was a small voice coming from behind me,
"Um, Malfoy?" I turned my head and saw Potter hovering on his broom close by. From the deep red colour of his cheeks I could tell that he overheard my conversation with Oliver, but right now I didn't really care- besides, it's not as if he didn't know beforehand.
"What do want Potter?" I asked, and he shrugged,
"I just wanted to say congratulations. And that… well, I've never seen anyone fly through one of the goal hoops before. For a second there I thought you weren't going to make it through."
"Yeah, well, that makes two of us…" I said with an embarrass smile rubbing the back of my neck and Potter grinned. I think I was still in shock because bloody hell- this is Potter I'm talking to…
"Um, look Malfoy…" Potter began uncomfortably, practically squirming on his broom, which probably made him even more uncomfortable, "Erm, well, the thing is- I'm dating your friend and you're obviously in love with mine so…" He trailed off, licking his lips nervously. Out of the top of my head I could think of at least a dozen endings to that sentence, some of them actually up to par with the Gryffindor way of thinking but the fun at watching Potter squirming like that was not something I could pass on,
"Yes, Potter?" It took him a little time but eventually he found that infamous Gryffindor courage of his and plunged right in,
"How about we call a truce?" I tried not to let the smirk break through to my face and opted instead to drawl,
"Why, Potter, what are you trying to say? That you want to be… friends?"
"Would you?" Potter was obviously not taking the bait, so I shrugged- I was in a far too good of a mood to argue on inconsequential things right now,
"Probably not."
"I'm just saying, maybe we could start over, you know, put that silly animosity behind us." He stretched out his arm, offering me his hand. I looked at his hand for a long moment, caught slightly by surprise to tell the truth,
"Well, doesn't that bring back cosy little memories from seven years ago?" I said dryly and Potter chuckled, albeit guiltily,
"Yeah, I know I was a git back then but you had just insulted the first person that was ever nice to me…" I wanted to roll my eyes at his sob story but as long as we are on the honest streak,
"I guess we were both a little daft back then." I admitted softly, not something I would ever admit if I didn't just win the house cup (right under Potter's nose no less) and had the prospect of glorious make-up sex to look forward to, "Oh, what the heck! We're leaving school in a month and it's not like I'll have much chance to taunt you in the outside world anyway. Truce!" I declared firmly and shook his offered hand. It felt nice, this whole burying the hatchet thing- kind of like gulping down too much warm butterbeer all at once.
"Great! I guess you should go and celebrate with your house-mates then. Good game Malfoy." Potter gave me a little salute before he pointed his broom to the ground and took off rapidly. Well, at least he didn't insist on doing something wholly Gryffindor and sickening like hugging or calling each other by our first names… I shook my head and headed to the cluster of exited teens all warring green. When I finally touched the ground I was immediately surrounded by my over-exhilarated house-mates, all trying to hug me. It was quite a frightening experience, I have to say. From overhead we could hear the magnified voice of the headmaster calling for the Slytherin Quidditch team to come forth.
I quickly gathered the rest of the team, telling them to straighten their uniforms before we all stepped forward to where the cup was placed on a table, glistening in silver sparks at the sun just waiting to be picked and brandished by me. When we drew close I saw Oliver standing there, tight white trousers and all and my heart just swelled to three times its size. I knew that the love was shining in my eyes like bloody beacons in a dark night but I couldn't help myself, I was just hoping that if any of my team-mates caught on they'd think it was for the cup and not for the referee…
Oliver picked up the cup, and I could clearly see that was already engraved with the words "House Cup" and "Slytherin" along with the names of the players. We all stood in front of Oliver in a straight line- well, as straight as was possible right now, and from the corner of my eye I could see the rest of them eyeing the cup with such obvious greed you'd think the bloody thing is stack of galleons.
"Will the captain step forward to accept the cup for his house?" Oliver called out in an official sort of voice that made me want to chuckle, but I pulled myself together and took a deep breath before stepping up to him, Oliver gave me a little smile that spoke volumes and reached his hand to shake mine before he presented me with the cup. I lifted the silver appendage with both hands and turned to face my house and held the cup high, a huge smile plastered on my face as their cheers nearly deafened me. In mere seconds the rest of the house was around me and the cup was snatched from my hands and moved about between the rests of them, each trying to get their hands on it.
"So, Wood, how does it feel to lose to Slytherin?" I heard Millicent Bulstrode drawling sarcastically and I wanted to thump her for being such an idiot, but Oliver simply smiled benignly at her,
"I'm not a Gryffindor anymore, Miss Bulstrode." He told her with that same calm smile that I knew all too well was a total fake and that what he really wanted to do was clock her one on her fat head, "I'm strictly impartial here." Oh, yeah, you strictly want to get inside my pants!
I didn't even manage to give Oliver a proper smile before I found myself being flung up by my house-mates and being carried back to the castle, passed on from hand to hand just like the cup. I tried to relax as much as I could and not fight them because I didn't really felt like being tossed down. I guess I should be grateful that seekers are naturally slim and not bulky like Crabbe or Goyle for instance or we'd never make it to the castle in one piece. I wasn't actually allowed down until we entered the common room and then I was unceremoniously tossed on one of the sofas and was handed the cup while the rest of them gathered around me eyes shining with anticipation to hear all about my little hoop flying escapade. I caught Pansy's eye and shrugged helplessly, silently asking her for a save but she shook her head, indicating that I was on my own. Not even Pansy Parkinson would storm to the middle of a frantic crowd to save me… So I told them, what parts of the seekers game I actually remembered, and did not involve drooling over Oliver. Luckily, the alcohol came out quite rapidly and in no time at all the place turned into a giant party and I could finally slink to my room for a well overdue and much needed shower.
Standing under the warm spray of water I couldn't keep the grin from my face, this is defiantly one of the best days of my life. Beating Potter in Quidditch, getting Oliver back, wining house cup with my own two hands… what could a bloke ask for more? When I left the showers I was actually humming happily while wrapping a towel around my waist,
"You look cheerful." I nearly jumped ten feet in the air, not to mention squeaking in a rather undignified manner when I saw Pansy casually sitting on my bed, legs crossed and leaning back on her hands. I tried to catch the towel I only then noticed was slipping before our friendship will take on a whole new level and scolded at Pansy,
"What are you doing here? This is the boys' dorms!" Her only response to that was to cross her arms over her chest and raise an unimpressed eyebrow at me,
"What did you and Wood have to talk about so much before the beginning of the seekers match?" I could lie and say that he was telling us about the rules, I could say he was lecturing us about fair play and all that rot, I could have said a lot of things but then again this is Pansy I was talking to and there was nothing that could get past her when it comes to me so I might as well come clean now before she drags the details out of me in a more humiliating way.
"He asked me back." I told her, that stupid grin splitting my face again, gods when did I become a bloody Hufflepuff? Pansy jumped from the bed and attacked me, squealing happily,
"Ooh, that's so great!" Well, she certainly came a long way since the beginning of the year, when she couldn't stand the thought of hearing Oliver's name again. I hugged her back in earnest, I don't know what I would do if it wasn't for her.
"Pans, I'm half naked here." I mumbled and tried to not to squirm too obviously, but the little tart wouldn't let go,
"So?" I rolled my eyes, so indeed.
"Get off me you cheeky little tart! I know the only reason you're hugging me is so that you can feel me up!" She laughed a throaty laugh and gave me a firm pinch in the butt before releasing me. I stuck my tongue at her while rubbing my sore arse. She's got fingers that are far too sharp and strong for her own good!
"Come on, get dressed and go shine for your boyfriend!" She gave me a little peck on the lips and a wink before sauntering out of the room giving me peace and space to get dressed. After standing for ten whole minutes in front of my wardrobe thinking what I should wear I reached the inevitable conclusion that it didn't really matter since, if things would go my way, I'd be out of my clothes in less than two minutes… so in the end I settled for some black slacks and a Slytherin green sweater- show some house solidarity once in while, can't be too harmful.
The way out of the common room proved to be rather tricky, I had to use all my cunningness and my intimidation just to make it safely to the door. The idea of snatching the cup along the way was dumped about halfway through the process. Oh, well, it's not like Oliver hasn't seen the bloody thing up close before, having won it at least a couple of times himself.
The corridors were eerily quiet, each house retreating to its own territory to celebrate, lament or just study (Ravenclaws…), and thus I didn't meet anyone on my way. I pushed Oliver's door quietly tiptoeing my way in, I like to surprise him, keep him on his toes sort of speak. When I pocked my head in I saw Oliver rummaging through his wardrobe. Actually I could only see his cute, pert bum sticking out of the wardrobe, clad in a dark blue bathrobe jingling and moving to the sounds of the music that was playing in the room. So I just leaned against the door and enjoyed the view, what else could I do really…
When Oliver finally seemed to have found what he was looking for he turned around and met my amused expression. Unlike me, he didn't jump or squeak (too girly for him I suppose) but he froze on the spot, sporting that 'dear caught in the headlights' expression on his face. It took him several seconds to regain his footage and start breathing again,
"D-Draco, you scared the shit out of me…" He cried before bending over to retrieve his fallen briefs. I walked over to him as soon as he straightened up again and placed my hands flat on his beautifully chiselled pectorals, sliding them under the bathrobe's lapels,
"I thought I told you to wait for me naked." I told him, in a deep husky voice, and he grinned,
"I thought you were bringing the cup." Ah, Touché!
"Do you have any idea what sort of chaos is currently running in the Slytherin common room?" Oliver shrugged and wrapped his arms around me, bringing me closer and leaned in for a soft kiss.
"I'm sorry I've been such a prat in the last couple of weeks." He whispered against my lips,
"Forget it, tonight I want to celebrate. I just won the house cup and I got my boyfriend back, that's enough for now." He nodded and gave me another kiss before pulling the sweater I was wearing over my head, without any further ado- apparently two minutes is quite an overstatement when considering two weeks with no sex!
"Eager much, are we?" I managed to gasp between kisses and that amazing burning feeling of Oliver's mouth all over me,
"You have no idea!" He murmured against my chest and I let out a bark of laughter, feeling so light and happy nothing bad could touch me ever again. Soon I found myself on the bed, naked with Oliver's body pressing me down on the mattress, pure bliss. I didn't care what he was going to do, how he would take me as long as he did. I let him shower me with kisses, lavish me with caresses, my body tingling and singing for him, Gods I didn't know I missed him so much. Those last couple of weeks felt like years to me, and I'm so glad that we finally made up, even though deep down I know I should have made his life more difficult for all the shit he put me through right when I was down on the floor but right now I can't even remember what we fought over and it doesn't matter at all, I just want him.
Oliver's lips were tracking down my body, lower and lower. Past my chest, past my navel, and even past my cock (I really hope he's not going to do the toes sucking bit again, fun as that was I need something more substantial right now…), to ravish the soft skin of my inner thighs, and gods that feels like liquid fire running through my veins right now, and I'm pretty sure I'm going to have marks tomorrow to show for it but that's why they invented Sundays for, right?
"Ollie, please…" I begged him without even knowing it, my whole body so hot it feels like my brain is melting and still he's playing around…
"What?" He lifted his head and the loss of warmth made me whimper and open my eyes as well, I looked down at him, my chin resting on my collarbone so I could actually see my chest rising and falling with the effort to bring enough oxygen into my lungs, "What do you need? Tell me…"
"You, inside, now… P…lease…" I managed to chock, not all too eloquent but I'd like to see how fluent you'll be when you've got Oliver Wood between your thighs! Fortunately Oliver got the message; unfortunately what I got was a slicked finger… but that's a start. There was a sudden lurch and I found myself being flung up high my knees resting snugly on Oliver's shoulders and my whole body practically bent in half. I moaned again, all rational thought completely lost when I felt those sinful fingers run up my chest and twist my nipples. The wave of desire that washed over me caused me to arch my back and the little devil between my legs used that precise moment to slip into me forcefully. Oliver set a fast and harsh pace, pounding with all might and I loved every second of it.
I reached forward blindly, wanting to feel his mouth on mine and he dropped my legs down so that he could find me. I could feel the blood boiling and surging through my veins, the climax rushing in and closing on me in an alarming rate and then I let everything turn to white, dotted with purple, blue and green sparks that rapidly turned to purplish darkness.
When I opened my eyes I found Oliver by my side, slowly caressing my sweaty skin. Every bone in my body felt liquefied, every tissue felt fluid. I stared at the ceiling, just trying to remember which nerve end meant to operate which part in my body,
"I don't think I can move." I moaned softly and Oliver chuckled,
"Were you planning on going anywhere soon?" I tried to shrug but gave up on the effort after a while; I was just too comfortable and woozy to actually put real effort behind it,
"Well, the loo, eventually…" Oliver smiled and leaned in to kiss me again. Hell, I couldn't even move my hand to cup his face, how pathetic am I? "Sing to me?" I asked with a little smile, I love to hear Oliver sing, he's got that deep baritone voice that travels to all the right places…
"Sing to you? Are you going to fall asleep?"
"Probably." Oliver turned and grabbed his wand to spell the covers above us and then snuggled to me again. My eyes were already drooping at that point, after that long tedious day, not to mention the most mind-blowing sex I've experienced so far,
"On the day I went away,
Goodbye
Was all I had to say,
Now I
I want to come again and stay
Smile and that will mean I ma-a-ay…
'Cause I've seen blue skies
Through the tears in my eyes
And I realize I'm going home…"
I just let Oliver's soft voice lull me to deep sleep, without a care in the world.
A/N: The Kournikovabit is to tell that Cho Chang is very pretty but not the bestest player. Oliver follows a variety of sports, mostly muggle, apparently.
"Let Draco shine for his boyfriend"- the original phrase by princessoferynlasagalen91, I just loved it and decided to use it (or at least a version of it).
"I'm going home", from "Rocky Horror Picture Show". I was trying to get myself to sleep last night so I mentally sang to myself… that was one the songs- it seemed fit here.
For those of you how've been trying to follow on the Quidditch season, here are the matches and results:
First match of the season: November 12- Gryffindor Vs. Ravenclaw – 230-190. (Chapter 16).
Second match: January 28- Slytherin Vs. Hufflepuff- 350-150. (Chapter 29).
Third match: February 25- Ravenclaw Vs. Slytherin- 250-180. (Not reported).
Fourth match: March 25- Hufflepuff Vs. Gryffindor- 190-180. (Chapter 31).
Fifth match: April 29- Hufflepuff Vs. Ravenclaw- 220-100. (Not reported).
Sixth match: May 27- Gryffindor Vs. Slytherin- 260-140. (Chapters 36 and 37).
The accumulating score for each team:
Ravenclaw: 1est match- 190, 2ed match- 250, 3ed match- 100. Total: 540 points.
Hufflepuff: 1est match- 150, 2ed match- 190, 3ed match- 220. Total: 560 points.
Gryffindor: 1est match- 230, 2ed match- 180, 3ed match- 260. Total: 670 points.
Slytherin: 1est match, 350, 2ed match- 180, 3ed match- 140. Total: 670 points.
I actually have it all neatly put, colour coded even, in tables but sadly ff. net doesn't support them…