The Littlest Seeker

Scorpius dreaded sixth year. The mere thought of being one year from the last year at Hogwarts was vomit-inducing. He wished, as the last week of his fifth year dragged on, that he could be stuck there until Lily could move on with him. He'd thought back to his third year. The first time he really saw Lily. The cute eleven-year-old had transformed frighteningly into a stunning fourteen-year-old. Somehow, Scorpius hadn't enjoyed the newfound beauty.

Well, that was a lie. He did enjoy the view, to be honest. Actually, he enjoyed it far more than should have been allowed. He often found himself staring where his eyes should not have wandered. It seemed unlikely that a mere two months—though they went unbearably slow for Scorpius—could impact her so. Gregory dug his elbow in Scorpius' side.

"What?" He snapped at his friend. Gregory lifted an eyebrow and gestured to the recently emptied Quidditch changing-room. "Oh." He mumbled distractedly. I should be more observant as the Slytherin seeker, though Scorpius absently. Despite this revelation, his thoughts wandered again. Yes, Lily was in fact a knockout.

It was a shame other boys began to realize this. He would find himself glaring at many, almost as often as he found himself gaping at Lily. Everything had gotten so much worse after the Yule Ball. He kept having odd dreams about kissing Lily. He didn't think it normal that he was dreaming of their first kiss. Sighing, he walked out onto the pitch.

Slytherin had been doing spectacular thus far in; only losing once. As it happened to be, they'd yet to play Gryffindor. He almost dreaded the game that neared them. Apparently, since James Potter had left Hogwarts, they had found themselves a fantastic new seeker. He had no idea as to who it was, though. He'd been too wrapped up to care for names.

Who could defeat Scorpius Malfoy, after all?

The captain, Holly Skinkle, had been holding gruelling practices all week. The last Gryffindor game was a spectacular win, according to the word Scorpius had heard. The snitch caught only moments into the game. He fretted the seeker would be more cunning than he expected. He glanced at his broom. Surely, his broom was the fastest.

"I want to see all of you sweating and drenched by the time practice is done with." Scorpius cringed as Skinkle's loud voice came in contact with his ear. "I want to see you in pain when this practice is over. I'm talking nosebleeds, wind burns, calloused hands," her fierce gaze landed on me, her voice raising an octave higher, "and the bloody snitch in your hand every five minutes, Malfoy." He raised an eyebrow.

"I can hear you, mate. No need to yell." Skinkle growled before mounting her broom and flying onward.

"You're lucky you've got some bloody talent." He heard her mumble as he mounted his own broom. Smirking he circled the pitch until the gleaming spec of gold caught his eye. Somehow, Holly had swung it with Professor McGonagall to have a practice only hours before the game before Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Having defeated Hufflepuff just the day before, Slytherin was in first place so with a win of three-hundred-sixty to fifty-five.

Whether Gryffindor defeated Ravenclaw determined who would be considered second, third and fourth. The game between Slytherin and Gryffindor, followed by Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, would make it indefinite. If Hufflepuff lose again, they are out of the tournament, likewise with Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. The two remaining houses would, naturally, have the final game. Slytherin had been doing not well until the year in turn.

Suddenly, something zoomed by his ear, thinking it was a rogue bludger, Scorpius ducked. Then, noticing little passing air, his eyes snapped upward, seeing the tiny golden ball, taunting him forward with its fluttering silver wings in a sporadic dance. His hand darted left, the snitch to the right. His hand right, the snitch left. Snarling at nothing in particular, he glared at the little ball, wanting nothing but to cease its incessant twitching.

The snitch flitted upward in a zigzag pattern. Scorpius bit his lip, watching the odd snitch. Never witnessing something so irregular he drew a conclusion that the snitch was charmed. Not being able to think a counter-charm, for he knew not the spell cast upon it, he watched closely, following its movements. Seeing a pattern, his hand shot out left, when the snitch darted right. Grinning as the silver wings fluttered between his fingers he lowered down to the centre of the pitch, holding the snitch high above his head.

"Incredible! Took you all of three minutes." Gregory clapped him on the back.

"You figured out my charm. Well done, Malfoy. Maybe you aren't such a useless bloke!" Holly pointed her wand at the snitch and its erratic movements halted. "Of course that won't happen in the game, but it proved how well we play." Two gruelling hours of practice later, Scorpius was peeling his gear from his sore and sweaty body. He put his school robes on and walked back to the pitch.

He'd yet to watch Gryffindor play, but figured it was best if they were to play well the next day. Of course, it had not escaped his mind that Lily Potter would probably be there as well. After all, her house was playing. It was mere minutes from the starting of the game. He watched as the Gryffindor team filed onto the pitch, along with Ravenclaw. Looking for anyone that looked particularly like a seeker, though he had no idea was a seeker 'looked' like, his eyes scanned swiftly.

They fell upon a small player. He scoffed. Were they truly worried about losing to a team that recruited a midget? He scoffed a second time. The two teams mounted their brooms and pushed into the air. Scorpius gawked as the little one flew out of sight. He strained his eyes, looking to find the person again. Suddenly, someone was diving in the middle of the pitch, gaining many ooh's and ah's. His eyes widened as they executed the perfect wronski feint.

His was vaguely aware that his jaw had dropped as he noticed the golden snitch flitting around just out of reach. Gryffindor beaters were situated around the seeker as protection. It seemed everyone and everything else had halted, in sheer interest. Slowly, and rather impossibly, the seeker sung their leg around, basically riding the broom like a horse being ridden side-saddled. The seeker hoisted up until he or she was crouched on the broom, reaching up and stretching their ligaments.

Grinning and sitting side-saddled again, the seeker lifted their fist and trusted in the air, the snitch's silver wings beating dully against their fingers. Coming to the conclusion the seeker was female—so small, it was hardly possible to be otherwise—he shook his head in amazement.

He had to compete with that?

She'd spotted the snitch from the top of the pitch!

Dumbfounded, Scorpius found himself walking to Slytherin chambers, and forgetting the password. He glared at wall opposite to the chamber doors. Leaning heavily against the rock, he crossed his arms and tormented himself with images of how tomorrow's game would end. Two minutes in, Gryffindor would be landing on the ground, grinning and hooting while Scorpius was oblivious, still circling the pitch—looking for the snitch.

Not the worst he'd thought up, sadly enough.

Alas, Gregory bound through the corridor. Scorpius sighed and waited for his friend to say the password, before remembering it was Parseltongue. He actually had no idea who had chosen this particular password, or why. But remembering who the last known remaining Parseltongue in the wizarding world was, he forgot the pondering. He hadn't seen Lily at the game, as he'd hoped he would. It seemed the day was only disappointment after another in a continuous cycle.

"How about that game?" Scorpius grumbled conspicuously before kicking an object unbeknownst to him.

"I'm doomed. Could we leave it 'till the morning?" He snapped harshly. Gregory raised an eyebrow.

"Mate, you aren't the only one on the team." Scorpius ran a frustrated hand through his hair, making it stick up on end. He wanted to shout. Tell Gregory that, he may not have been the only team member, but he was the most important. If the Gryffindor girl caught the snitch, the game was over and they would have to settle for third of fourth place.

Contrary to popular belief, the game was on him. If they lost, no matter what anyone spewed in his direction to console him, it was his fault.

Because he'd be too bloody busy dreaming about Lily Potter.

To stop from lashing out, he grunted a good night before retiring to his dorm.

--

Scorpius was determined not to let the Gryffindor seeker get to him. No matter how advanced she was. He waited patiently for the game to begin. It hadn't been a moment, really, but it felt like hours to Scorpius. He was tempted to fly down there and blow the ruddy whistle himself. Though these thoughts were definitely making him anxious, they were the only thing stopping him from looking at the seeker in front of him.

He was barely holding on to his sanity when he noticed the broom the Gryffindor seeker was on. He felt a little better that his ego had inflated a little—a Nimbus 2002 wasn't anywhere near his Firebolt 0.3. It wasn't even supposed to be available to the wizarding world yet, but his father had a few connections. He nearly grabbed the snitch when it circled him and moved on, as it usually did before each game.

Finally, the whistle was blown, and without realizing the action, Scorpius looked up to see none other than Lily Potter. He gaped, because he couldn't move any other part of his body. Lily seemed oblivious to his shock and she flew higher and circled the pitch. The only thing he could think of was the fact that he didn't want to play anymore. If he won, then that meant Lily lost, and she wouldn't be particularly happy about that—especially after the amazing way she'd played so far. If he lost—well, he lost to Lily Potter; a Gryffindor, a Potter, a fourth-year—the repercussions were serious, either way.

He decided he would play fair. Nothing too drastic, but if he would more likely be a Crumple-Horned Snorcack than if he wasn't trying his hardest. He couldn't play rough with her, but the sense of dominance he'd felt back in his fourth year had returned. It was no longer a lose-or-lose situation. If he won then he could boast, which was probably exceptionally superficial, but ideal; however, if he lost, then he was just pathetic. Besides that, all the hard work he'd been through the whole season would be for nothing; not to mention the lashing he'd get from his team-mates and the rest of Slytherin.

Though he would have to wait until Slytherin was fifty points up on Gryffindor, he kept his eyes out for the snitch. Lily was a fantastic seeker from the one match he'd witnessed and he feared he'd need all the help he could get. Every once and a while, he would care to tune into the commentary, just to see how things were going.

"Skinkle makes a fantastic save! Seventy to twenty—Slytherin! Malfoy is nowhere to be seen, though, rumour has it that he's got a thing for Gryffindor seeker—"

"You are here for commentary; not a gossip column." McGonagall's voice cut in immediately. Scorpius was glad for this, though not much had been salvaged other than Lily's name. He began frantically looking for the snitch now. To his astonishment, it was hovering right in front of Lily, taunting her. She was glaring at the golden ball with the deepest—and most amusing—look of hatred Scorpius had ever seen. She seemed to have the sense to glance over though, as if to make sure Scorpius was dense enough to not have noticed the obvious, flitting ball.

She slumped over momentarily before gaining posture, her face now completive instead of loathing. This worried Scorpius, because she would obviously be thinking of a way to make sure he didn't get the snitch. He didn't feel the need to pay attention to the score anymore, he was going to get the snitch, or die trying.

Skinkle would be proud.

He leaned forward and his broomstick, the golden snitch in his line of site. He forced himself to forget about the perplexed-looking Lily; to just concentrate on the elusive ball. He was moments from grasping it, so close to the glory of winning the Quidditch Cup—moments from taking someone else's pride for their own, moments from the rights to boast, moments from being praised—when Lily had practically materialized in front of him.

"Whoa!" A smart person would have had the sense to go around her, over, under, left or right—a good seeker wouldn't have stopped mid-air. Scorpius Malfoy was, apparently, an idiot. It wouldn't have been hard to simply deviate from the path and go around her, as she had stopped moving, but he paused with her. Which led to his next question: why had she stopped?

"Hey, Score!" She said perkily over the howl of the wind. He could hear the confused and angry shouting from the spectators so far below them as they hovered. He raised an eyebrow at her. She looked around in a silence before glancing at him, grinning and taking off downward. Snapped out of his stupor, he continued his original path to the snitch and shot higher into the sky.

It took him a couple of moments before he finally heard the current standings. One-hundred-twenty to seventy—Gryffindor! Uh-oh. Again, he bolted, this time down toward the pitch to spot the snitch and Lily to see where she had gone off to. Seconds later, he spotted her, flying faster than should be possible—straight toward the tower where all the teachers were seated. He was able to get one look at the comical expression on his potions master's face before there was a huge pile of people on the stands. It seemed that everyone had stopped to look at the wreck.

"Lily Potter collides with a tower—what's going on over there? You can't even separate one person from the next!" He tuned out the announcer and flew cautiously toward the tower. Suddenly, there was one thin arm being thrust in the air, with one tiny fist attached, pumping up and down excitedly. I stopped flying. "She's got it! Lily Potter's caught the golden snitch!"

--

Scorpius was feeling extremely low, to say the least. Lily, being the good sport she was, had even found him after the game. Of course, he didn't see the good in that until much later, because did she really need to rub it in his face?

"Score! Hey, great game, mate." She grinned, shifting the giant trophy from one arm to the other. He glanced at her briefly before nodding and turning his attention away. "You were awesome. Really." She tried again; giving him compliments he knew couldn't have been real. He knew he wasn't great—exactly what he was afraid of had happened. He was at the top of the pitch when she spotted the snitch, and she had made an amazing catch. What else was new?

"Whatever, Potter." He mumbled, noting to himself that he had never referred to her as this. It was reserved for her brothers—she was Lily. Just Lily. It worked. She reeled back and gave him a quizzical look.

"Potter?" She repeated, in a disbelieving tone. He shrugged.

"'S your name, isn't it?" He asked numbly. He saw her shoulders drop from the corner of his eye and tried not to watch as she handed the trophy over to someone else and nudged him away from the crowd. "What do you want?" He asked when they were alone. She frowned up at him.

"I want my friend, not this git! What is your problem?" She asked fiercely in a low voice. He looked down at her as she glared. She looked impossibly intimidating, even though her head was almost tilted all the back so she could look him in the face.

"I don't have a problem. Go and have fun with all your Gryffindor friends. Congrats on the win." His voice sounded cold, even to him. He'd never spoken to Lily like this, and he could tell she was as shocked as he was.

"So this is about Quidditch." She whispered. He watched as she lowered her gaze to her feet before backing away slowly. It was only when she looked up and had a brief glimpse of a quivering lip that he felt tremendously guilty. He hadn't wanted her to cry, for Merlin's sake. Why did this have to be so complicated? Why did she want to be his friend so badly? Couldn't she just give up and admit to the inevitable, that they just couldn't be friends?

She was so wrong. It wasn't about Quidditch. It was about Slytherin, and Gryffindor, and Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff. It was about how, on the list of who could not befriend whom, Gryffindor and Slytherin were second only to Potter and Malfoy. She could have been anyone else. She didn't have to be a split image of her mother, nor have the same short-temper and hot-head as her father. Moreover, though, was that he was a Malfoy. Filthy rich and evil. Thanks Lucius, he thought as he kicked the ground while on his way to the Slytherin common room.

He couldn't handle all the chatter and the insults, directed both at him and Lily, but couldn't think of a way to leave it all behind. Until Gregory offered him a bottle of firewhiskey. Then, he knew exactly what to do. Unfortunately, that didn't land him in the most…temperate state of mind. It did, however, lead him to the portrait of the fat lady, where he sat for Merlin-knew how long, arguing with the fat lady.

"A Malfoy! In my midst! Gryffindor Tower resents the very idea, and yet, here he is! Scorpius Malfoy, drunk off his arse and sitting here as if he will be welcomed!" She wailed for what Scorpius believed to be the four-hundred-twenty-seventh time. He glared at the space in front of him, hoping to find something to throw at her.

"Shut it, you crone." He spat viciously, with just a touch of a slur. Okay, so it was a large slew of words, but nevertheless, the fat lady understood. At least, that was his impression from her gasp.

"Young sir, I feel obliged to ask you why you are here." He looked over at her as she lifted her nose in the air and sniffed down at him. He rolled his eyes.

"Because I'm a twit who can't control his emotions and makes girls cry. Now sod it, would you?" Of course, she didn't, which only provoked Scorpius further.

"Ooh…a Malfoy feeling guilty for hurting a poor little Gryffindor girl? Which one? Do tell, do tell. We all need a healthy dose of gossip in our lives." She taunted. Had he not been completely inebriated, he would have said something vulgar in response, however, seeing as he was drunk he didn't.

"Lily Potter. I was the biggest git in the world to her. I just can't help it, she makes me defensive and angry and happy and annoyed and awestruck all at once. I act completely on impulse whenever I'm around her." He gushed and slurred, almost making it impossible for the fat lady to understand him. She gasped once again, though, confirming that she had heard him loud and clear.

"Lily Potter! My word, boy, you are in over your head, aren't you?" She tittered on, and with a sigh, Scorpius easily tuned her out. Whatever stopped her incessant yelling was good enough for him. Sadly, the fat lady's new source of creating noise, though it pleased Scorpius, was not pleasing to the Gryffindor students. Most specifically, Lily Potter.

"Scorpius! What are you doing here?" She kneeled by his side and grabbed his face so that he was looking at her. He gave her a sloppy grin. "Merlin's beard, you're absolutely drunk!" She whispered, utterly shocked and angry. "What is wrong with you, you idiot? Do not tell me this is because of Quidditch, or so help me, I will—"

"This isn't about Quidditch, Lily. It's about you." He said as he shook his face from her grasp and stood up. She gaped at him, offended. He hastily continued. "You're so perfect and wonderful, and you just don't see it." Gingerly, he took her jaw into his grasp and ran his thumb along the smooth skin. "You drive me absolutely mad."

"But…I just want to be friends, Score. You're the one who always flips out and does something ridiculous. For example, getting drunk and arguing with a painting in the middle of the night! You should be thankful that I have the Marauder's Map, or we would have been caught by now." She was beginning to look dazed, though she continued to rant about how immature he was.

"That's the problem, don't you see? Lily, I can't be your friend." She stopped moving all together and stared at him, completely bemused.

"What do you mean? Of course we can. I swear, Scorpius, if this is because of our last names or because of our houses…" She trailed off, looking him in the eye. True, he wasn't sober, she knew that—but right then, the intensity in his eyes conveyed that he was being as honest as he could have ever been sober. "But it is, isn't it. Everything you've ever done and said and then all those times you retreated. It was like taking one step forward and ten steps back—it's all because I'm a Potter, isn't it?" He domed his head, ashamed.

"Lily, you could quite possibly be the most incredible person I have ever met. But none of it matters because…because…" Tears had begun to well up in her eyes, despite her efforts to stop them. Once again, her bottom lip was quivering as she shook her head in protest.

"No, Score, it doesn't matter. Not anymore. We aren't our parents; I'm not my mother or my father." She reached up and caressed his cheek. He felt himself lean in to the touch, but his gaze remained glued to her face. "You are not Draco. I know you, and I know that if Voldemort," he cringed a little at the name, "existed right now, you would never become a Death Eater." She's right, he thought, we aren't our parents. But that doesn't change the fact that a Potter is always a Potter, and a Malfoy is forever a Malfoy.

"I would sooner die." He whispered to her. He felt clarity returning to him in those moments, somehow. Tears had slid down her flushed cheeks as she desperately tried to convince him that they could be friends. He wasn't hearing her words, though. Her voice was a hum in the background of his thoughts, which eventually halted when he found himself leaning toward Lily for the second time in his life. He was vaguely aware that her voice had halted as well.

"S-Scorpius?" She questioned him, but her only answer was his lips pressed to hers in a shockingly delicate way. When their chaste kiss ended briefly, Lily emitted a small whimper, driving Scorpius absolutely mad. He reconnected their mouths, more forcefully this time. Lily was shocked when she felt the cold wall beneath her back and Scorpius' heated torso against her fingertips. He gently sucked at her bottom lip and ran his tongue along it until her lips parted slightly.

She gasped when his breath mingled with hers and his tongue slid hotly into her mouth. She felt that everywhere his hands brushed combusted into flames, and that every touch only added heat to the burning in her stomach. Losing herself, she shyly put her fingertips against the hem of his shirt, pushing it aside until she touched the smallest amount of his skin. It was then that she became aware of how his hands were already on her bare waist beneath her night shirt.

Gasping loudly, she pushed him away. He stood at a short distance, grey eyes clouded over with an emotion Lily didn't understand. Frustrated with himself, he roughly rubbed at his face before watching her with an apologetic eye.

"I told you we couldn't be friends." He whispered before placing a fleeting peck on the corner of her mouth and leaving her in the silent hall.

--

The next morning in the Great Hall, Lily watched Scorpius from a distance, wondering if he remembered what had happened the previous night. The way he went about his day nonchalantly, she seriously doubted that he had even a single clue. However, she wasn't one to go on guesses, so she knew the only way to surely know would be to ask. So that's precisely what she did. She pulled him aside as everyone filed out of the Great Hall and headed to their first class of the day.

"Scorpius!" She called to him breathlessly, hoping that he would hear her above the chatter of the crowd. He turned to her with a grin on his face.

"Oh, Lily! I was looking for you; I was going to apologize for yesterday." Lily grinned as her heart leapt out of her chest. She shook her head and laughed. "I was the biggest git in the world. I was out of line to say that to you. I was just upset over losing the game. You played brilliantly, you know." He smiled his most handsome smile at her, making her heart skip a beat and making her happiness falter as she realized he wasn't recalling their late-night meeting.

"Oh." She mumbled dejectedly. "Right, no problem, all's forgiven." She smiled at him, hoping it didn't look like the grimace it felt like. As she watched him leave, she sighed and ignored her sudden urge to repeatedly hit her head against the ancient castle walls.

Scorpius on the other hand when sighing in relief as he relished in the fact that he had been able to play off "forgetting" what happened so easily. But as he thought about it, he couldn't help but be simultaneously disappointed because he realized that Lily was right. It was like taking one step forward and ten steps back.

A/N: AHHHHH. It has been OVER A YEAR. That is insane, even for me. I assure you, this has never happened before and I'm really hoping it never will again. Anyway, I really like this. I'm kind of fond of the way Score and the fat lady go at it and I'm especially content with the word "sod", but that's just a weird little quirk of mine. Well, I hope anyone readings this enjoyed it. I also hope you guys will review. (:

I hate to sound all pushy and "I need reviews blah blah blah" but it really is motivation. Any reader who is also a writer with a story that doesn't have a lot of reviews knows what I mean. But anyway, if you don't feel like reviewing I totally get it. But please, if you're going to continue reading, I'm hoping to get at least one from you. It makes me smile. (:

Thanks for reading!