Chapter 2

Draco's POV

He circled the pitch in search of a glint of gold from the fluttering, glittering orb known as the golden snitch. He peered around him, as well as he possibly could considering the weather. His clothes soaked and gradually feeling heavier on his lean body. He shook the hair from his eyes and gripped tightly on the sleek handle of his nimbus 2001, he would surely find the snitch this time. There was no way that he would be beaten out by the boy wonder Potter. Not again. He heard a wave of gasps and shouts of excitement sounding from the Gryffindor side of the pitch, he snapped his head round to look and see what all the commotion was about. His eyes widened as he saw Harry in a deep dive.

No he can't have found it already.

The only thoughts running through his head were that of him losing once again. He could not let that happen. He was about to race towards the place that Harry was currently heading towards, until he saw him pull up and ease off. He was just showing off again, such a glory hog. How detestable that boy was, and yet admirable and alluring. Those bright emerald eyes, so innocent and full of kindness. He sighed through his thoughts, his eyes transfixed to Harry. Damn that boy was so distracting. He shook his head once more, both to remove the hair from his eyes and to throw the forbidden thoughts from his already troubled mind. Harry seemed to be in a little world of his own, he had a slight glazed look, what could he be thinking.

A sudden whirring noise sounded near his left ear, he turned his head sharply to view a glint of gold flying away from him, speeding away through the fast beating rain drops. This was his chance, there was no way Potter could get to the snitch in time, he was too far away from it to catch it before Draco had the chance. A sly grin spread across Draco's face. He steered his broom round and quickly sped off towards the snitch, the rain stinging at his face, searing pain cut across his pale skin as the wind whipped through his hair he had only one thing on his mind. I will win

He was drawing closer, just a little further. the deafening cheers coming from the Slytherin side of the Stadium ringing in his ears. The sudden adrenaline rush causing his heart to pound against his chest. He heard someone speeding behind him, he didn't have to look to know who it was. How the hell did he catch up to Draco so fast. Harry would not take this away from him again. He was so close he could almost feel the little wings beating at his hand. One swift move to push himself forward a few inches and...

He peered around to see where the other seeker had disappeared to. He was sprawled out on the ground his broom stuck in the sand. Bloodied, drenched and dirty, he lay. How disappointing for him. Although Draco couldn't help but smile because of his victory, he felt a slight twinge of misery. Why was he feeling so unhappy all of a sudden, it hurt him to see the emerald eyed boy hurt. But what could he do? he was a slytherin, and Harry was his greatest enemy. He flew down to the soaked pitch floor.

There it was, the deafening cheers, the slytherins flooded the pitch awaiting their team's descent to the wet and sandy ground. Splash and he had landed, snitch in hand, fluttering against the soft of his pale skinned hand. A wide spread grin was thrown across his more than smug face. The Slytherin students literally grabbed Draco from where he stood to carry him off the pitch, many of them screaming and singing.

"SLYTHERIN WON"

He turned his head to peer at the broken raven haired boy and allowed his facade to drop for only a second as his heart sank. He thought this victory for his team, for the first time since Potter had beaten them every year since his arrival at Hogwarts, would make him happy, for once in his miserable existence. But alas it hurt him even more than he could have imagined. He shook his head. Just forget it Draco, you can't do anything now, you've won just be happy.

About a half hour later, he stood in the changing rooms, his clothes beside him, a towel around his slim waist. His hair and body finally cleaned and drying. He sat on the wooden bench in the middle of the room, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the stone ground. His wet hair drooped down about his eyes. Everyone had left and were in the Slytherin common room having a grand party. Awaiting his arrival to celebrate his victory no doubt. He didn't feel much like celebrating, he still couldn't shift the upset that was lingering in the back of his mind. He should be ecstatic and yet he was alone in the changing rooms, brooding. He had remained in the same position for the better part of ten minutes. He concentrated on trying to understand his own mind. It was more confusing than listening to Crabbe and Goyle attempt speech.

Why do you plague my mind so? Your eyes are haunting me