A/N- Don't know why my last chapter has a bold sentence in the beginning! does some straaaaannngggeee things sometimes…

Disclaimer: I own nothing 'cept my own cleverness.

Summary: Quidditch! (I really love the way my summaries don't really give a summary at all- ha!)


Jackknifed


Draco let his head fall against the wooden wall inside the Quidditch dressing rooms. Lifting his head, he let it fall back upon the wood again with a loud thump.

"Malfoy, get a grip."

"Oh, don't bother him. He always does this before a big match."

Draco ignored them.

"Maybe he'd be a little bit more relaxed if he showed up to practice now and again."

"Sod off." Draco hissed at them, eyes narrowing. He made to run a hand through his hair but stopped short. With a small noise he kicked at the wooden wall roughly.

"Come on, Malfoy."

With a curt little nod, Malfoy took his place behind the rest of the team, fiddling nervously with his leather wrist guards.

Deep breath. He chided himself. Deep breaths.

Sunlight flooded them, wincing smartly into each of the Slytherin's eyes. A roar of noise reached them and Draco felt that feeling of soaring anticipation trickle up from his heart and then down to his fingers.

The rest of the team was already mounted on their brooms, zooming out of the paddock and into the air above the pitch.

Malfoy was the last to leave. He gave a deep breath and looked out over the immense Quidditch field. Streaks of crimson and silver-green darted hither and thither before him.

"Get a grip on yourself." He whispered and mounted his broom.

He felt the wood vibrate and hum under his weight.

"Good broom. Good broom." He chanted as he rocketed off the ground and into the afternoon sunlight.

He nearly collided with Wesley as he too sped upwards, towards to goal posts.

"Oiy, watch yourself ferret!"

"I wouldn't have to if you'd fly properly, Weasel!"

Oh, bet that makes you feel good, doesn't it Malfoy? A little voice whispered to him, hissing in his ear, swirling around in his brain. Makes you feel all superior, doesn't it?

Draco pouted at his own thoughts.

His eyes roamed about the pitch, he swiveled this way and that on his broom, flying steadily up towards the Slytherin goal posts and then down through the air towards the stands.

A bludger streaked by his head and he ducked under it, nearly falling off his broom. It came so close that he let his hands go and fell, purposely, under his broom, his legs locked securely around the wooden handle.

He hung there, limp for a few seconds, before spinning back into a sitting position.

Watching the bludger, it careened down field towards Blaise Zambini, who was defending the goals with the goalie. They were both trying desperately to deflect the quaffle as a other team attempted to score.

Turning his broom around, Malfoy sped towards them and darted out in front of the bludger. As he flew by it, it changed direction, away from his teammates. Higher and higher Malfoy climbed, the bludger following.

In a split second he stopped and the ball zoomed by him and down towards Ron at the goals.

Grinning, Malfoy cast a glance back at Blaise. The boy raised an arm in thanks and Draco returned it.

.o.o.o.o.

The wind whispered around Malfoy's face, stirring his blonde hair.

He sighed inwardly.

Nearly a whole two hours and nothing. Even Potter looked bored out of his mind. Well, bored and a little more cheerful. They were up a good thirty points.

"So much for that." He murmured, remembering Hermione's little 'good luck' the night before.

In fact… Draco thought absently, looking down. He was directly over the Gryffindor stands.

Leaning casually against his broom, Malfoy searched the crowds.

There.

Leaning out, in the front row, Hermione was standing. Her body was thrust outward, over the wooden railing of the stands.

Draco smiled despite himself.

Then, he saw it.

There it was! The snitch! Right there, right near the ground, not but two feet from the turf, hovering next to the far right corner of the Gryffindor stands!

Malfoy couldn't believe it! He was ecstatic!

If he just circled around, cautiously, no one would know. Not even Potter!

You know what I love about Quidditch? It's that, at any moment, anything can happen…you could be standing there, then… right in front of you…

Draco took a hard look at Hermione, who was facing the game. The smile on his lips grew wider.

Turning his broom to a sharp angle, Malfoy started to speed towards the ground, right in front of Hermione, right towards the snitch. The crowd gave a collective gasp and looked skywards.

As the ground came rushing up to meet him he saw Potter from the other side of the field start his decent.

He wouldn't catch up.

He couldn't catch up.

Close and closer Draco sped.

Fast and faster.

The air whipped itself around him.

As the stands rushed by him, he saw Hermione, inches away from him, jump back in surprise. He had nearly come down through the air right on top of her, right in front of the crowd.

He was so close he saw her eyes go wide from shock, and her small pursed lips part in surprise as she jumped back.

Her fawn gaze locked with his. A coy smile rested on Malfoy's lips.

But his small lapse in concentration led Draco to turn his broom slightly. As the snitch was so close, Malfoy's broom handle hit the side of the stands, knocking it to the left, almost out from under him.

Malfoy tried to balance this, leaning dangerously close to his right, near the stands, but he overcorrected.

He was jolted off as the back end of the broom hit the stands again.

As he shot towards the ground he saw the snitch glint gold in front of his eyes. He tried in vain to snatch at it.

Draco didn't feel the connection between him and the earth, but he did feel himself roll over about three times before coming to a painful stop along the sidelines, under the Gryffindor stands. His broom spun out along the middle of the pitch.

The breath was knocked out of him.

Hermione leaned out from the stands above him, gasping. She saw Draco, laying there, sprawled, both his hands clutching his heart.

Was he hurt?

Malfoy was gasping for breath yet it would not come. Looking desperately up, he locked eyes with Hermione. Her hands were over her mouth, her eyes wide with terror.

Malfoy's eyes rolled back slightly as his body started to ache terribly.

With a loud, rushing breath, he sucked air into his lungs, his hands still over his heart.

As he started to relax, so did his grasp.

Slowly, his hands unclenched, falling to his side.

The golden snitch fluttered over his chest delicately, the wings coming to a final rest over his collarbone.

The stands went up in a roar.

Draco continued to breath heavily, eyes still locked with Hermione's


A/n- wow! A chapter in one day! Surprise!

The next part is in the works, although, I need to do my homework!

Review! PLEASE!