8.

Harry tucked and rolled onto the thick grass, his Firebolt shooting out from under him before he could get a grip on it. For a frightening moment, he couldn't figure out what had happened. But that moment passed quickly as adrenaline caused his limbs to unfold in a fluid motion. He sprang up to his feet, seeing nothing but red, and sprinted to centre field. He threw the Snitch on the ground with insurmountable fury while strangling his wand in a tight hold. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU PLAYING AT?" he screamed at Draco who was picking himself up on his hands and knees. "IDIOT!" He grabbed Malfoy by the shirt and hauled him up with a sharp jerk. "You're too fucking old to pull stunts like that," he hissed at the dazed man with the bloody face.

Three hours ago…

Harry pursed his lips as he floated above the game and watched the Quaffle exchange hands in rapid succession. What the hell was going on?

Riley dove for the save, the tips of his fingers grasping the ball just barely. He couldn't hold onto it. He had to push it forward instead, shouting at Parker to grab it before it could get snatched up for a rebound. Parker whisked it in his arms, curling defensively just as the red Chasers hurtled towards him.

"Pass it!"

He quickly changed his grip on the Quaffle and tossed it blindly.

"NO!" West shouted. "YOU MORON!"

"Ah, shit," Riley groaned upon realizing that there was no way he could get to the left hoop on time.

Draco threw the Quaffle in for an easy ten points, much to the elation of his fellow Chasers.

"You're playing dirty," West panted as he finally got to the hoops.

"I didn't hear a whistle," Draco answered back. "No foul."

West huffed and puffed for a moment before spinning around to face his sheepish teammate. "So you're going to pass the Quaffle to anyone who asks for it?" he snapped.

"Um, no?" Parker mumbled while rubbing the back of his neck.

Riley flew up towards them after getting the Quaffle. "Hey, nice one." He grinned at Draco. "Won't get another one past me though."

"We'll see."

The Chasers dispersed and the Quaffle was put into play a second later.

Harry scowled at the red Chasers. They were too quick for the black team. He glanced back when he heard a quiet swoosh.

Caleb stopped beside him, watching the game as well. "I've seen the Falcons do that before," he remarked. "Did he play for them?"

Harry clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "No. That was a lowball."

"Works though," Caleb chuckled.

Evidently. Draco managed to score three more times in the next ten minutes.

"Oh, come on!" Riley was wrenching at his hair in exasperation. "DEFENSE!"

Two hours before that…

"Budget dude," he exclaimed with a bright smile. "What are you doing here?" He landed a smack on Draco's back, making him stagger forward. "Trying your hand at the whole flying business, eh? It's not as easy as it looks, alright?"

Draco sidestepped Riley's elbow and crossed his arms against his chest. The players were filing in for the morning. His gaze sought and landed on Harry who was quick to look away nonchalantly. Getting the message, he glanced away as well, returning his attention to the Keeper who had yet to stop yammering on.

"-won't beat Harry, if that's what you're thinking of doing. He's a pretty quick Seeker, believe me. I've played in enough games to know when I see potential. Besides, he says you weren't that-"

"I'm not trying out as a Seeker," Draco interrupted him.

Riley paused, then tilted his head. "Oh? Then?"

"Chaser."

"Whoa, cool. Are you any good?"

"Yes."

"Are you just saying that?"

"No. I'm actually good."

He smirked. "Well, we'll see about that today, won't we?"

Sure enough, three hours after, he did see with his own two eyes.

"Argh!" He started wrenching at his hair in frustration when Draco stole the Quaffle again and did one of the quickest turns he had seen. He tilted his head upwards to shout, "IF YOU DON'T CATCH THE SNITCH RIGHT NOW, I'M GOING TO COME UP THERE AND KICK YOUR ARSE!"

"Alright, alright. No need for threats." Harry held his hands up in surrender.

The players were able to fit in four games that practice. It was evident to see that their newest Chaser brought something new to the playing field. He had a ton of strategies in his head and he could implement evasive maneuvers at the drop of a hat. He was often conspiring with his fellow Chasers, filling them in on his offensive game plan so they could get the upper hand. He wasn't reckless like West or meek like Parker. He was smooth on his Firebolt, dodging Bludgers and opposing players with practiced ease. He wasn't above resorting to tricks to get possession. He didn't get a scratch on him the entire time.

Brock was impressed.

Once two struck, everyone was tuckered out and he called it quits for the day. "Good work," he praised the players for a job well done. He was met with tired cheers and sighs.

Harry, however, was feeling antsy still. Perhaps he had a bit more energy than usual. Whatever the case may be, he wasn't ready to stop for the day. So he asked Brock if he could stay for another hour to practice some Seeking. The coach had no problems agreeing to this. He appreciated any player putting in some extra work.

The field was empty when Harry got up on his broom and released the Snitch. He enjoyed flying alone. Being alone with his thoughts was something he had rarely had time to do in his old job. He made lazy circles around the pitch.

It was somewhat strange to think that he was getting paid to fly around like this. But he supposed entertainment was just as important as law enforcement for the public. Sponsors scrambled to sign big Quidditch stars to endorse their products. Spectators paid big money to see a Quidditch match first hand. Fans bought new merchandise every year as their loyalties changed. It was a very big part of the wizarding community. He was glad to be a part of it once again.

He never quite had the time to really enjoy Quidditch during his time at the Ministry. Every year he would be aware of the season but he was always too busy to concentrate on teams and their standings. In fact, working as an Auror had made him sacrifice on a lot of things, including spending time with his friends and family.

Come to think of it, even Quidditch was keeping him away from them.

He smiled sardonically. At least now his friends weren't griping at him for not coming over for visits. They were all very excited about him being a big-shot Seeker. Great friends he had…

A slight movement in his periphery pulled him out of his thoughts.

He turned in bewilderment to find Draco flying towards him. He paused in midair, waiting for him to catch up. "Uh… something the matter?"

Draco shook his head. "Haven't tried Seeking in a while." He left it at that.

Harry understood that Malfoy wanted to play against him. A spark of competition caused his stomach to roll once. Like old times. He nodded. Nothing to lose. He knew he would win. He had seen Draco play. His flying style had changed over the years and it most certainly wasn't suited for Seeking.

Brock watched the two specks in the sky from the large window of his office. This was bound to be interesting. He sipped on his tea.

Draco kept an eye on Potter while zigzagging across the field in search of the Snitch. He knew that the only advantage he had was to spot the golden ball first. Potter was way too fast for him otherwise. He couldn't afford to give the Seeker that headstart. So he kept his eyes peeled. It wasn't long before the two of them ended up on opposite sides of the field, slowly circling the perimeter like a scene from an old Western.

One thing that struck Harry as being strange was that the usual taunts that he was used to when he was around Malfoy was non-existent at the moment. There was only silence between them. Their maturity levels had certainly evolved since their last encounter on the Quidditch field. He started to wonder how Malfoy got so good. Had he been practicing? With whom? It was no secret that the public viewed Malfoys as a malignant plague.

As soon as he thought that, he felt bad. He shouldn't be so quick to judge. After years in law enforcement he knew all about tolerance. Maybe Malfoy had friends. That can happen.

He scoffed.

Draco scowled when he saw the distant smirk on Potter's stupid face.

The Snitch flitted towards centre pitch, twirling downwards.

The two players spotted it at the same time.

For a breathless moment, they were still.

Then they blurred in a flurry of motion. Their brooms were aimed towards the grass and they flew almost vertically in an attempt to beat the Snitch's descent. Draco choked back the air that was being forced into his lungs and Harry blinked rapidly to get rid of the tears forming in his eyes from the wind. They hurtled to the ground in a Wronski maneouver, closing in on the fluttering ball in a matter of seconds. All they could hear was sharp whistling from their speed and the loud thumps of their heart.

The Snitch seemed to sense the downdraft because it suddenly started to panic and its fluttering wings faltered.

Harry caught the slight change in an instant.

Draco didn't.

The Snitch switched courses in the blink of an eye. It veered sharply to the right and then shot back upwards.

Harry pushed his broom to the right and threw his body back, flipping in the air.

Crunch.

"Oof."

He gasped and glanced back just as his fingers gripped the Snitch tight. His chest constricted in horror when he saw Malfoy slide off his broom, limp. He reached for his wand reflexively and threw a frantic charm at the dazed man to break his fall.

Unfortunately that meant that he had neither hand on the broom.

"Whoa." He leaned forward to try to stabilize his Firebolt. It was to no avail.

He tucked and rolled onto the thick grass, his Firebolt shooting out from under him before he could get a grip on it. For a frightening moment, he couldn't figure out what had happened. But that moment passed quickly as adrenaline caused his limbs to unfold in a fluid motion. He sprang up to his feet, seeing nothing but red, and sprinted to centre field. He threw the Snitch on the ground with insurmountable fury while strangling his wand in a tight hold. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU PLAYING AT?" he screamed at Draco who was picking himself up on his hands and knees. "IDIOT!" He grabbed Malfoy by the shirt and hauled him up with a sharp jerk. "You're too fucking old to pull stunts like that," he hissed at the dazed man with the bloody face. "Episkey."

Draco wiped the blood away with the back of his hand, wincing as he tasted the metallic fluid against the back of his throat. "I'm just as old as you, Potter," he mumbled.

Harry bristled. "So you were trying to prove some sort of a messed up point then?"

"Just trying to catch the Snitch. What are you on my case for?" He shoved Harry back so he could lower himself to the ground unsteadily and shake off the pain in his face. This was the most embarrassed he had been in a while, to be sure.

Harry stomped around for a bit before giving in and kneeling down beside him. "Two days ago you were on my case for trying out. Now you're the one trying to relive the glory days, aren't you?" he bit out.

Draco stared at him for a beat before looking away and knitting his brows together. "That's not… I didn't mean it like that, Potter," he muttered.

"Then what did you mean?"

"You said it felt great, so I… just… I couldn't find a reason not to try out."

"On this team?"

"You're on it."

Harry pursed his lips together. "What do I have to do with this?" he frowned.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Do you honestly think any other team would take me?"

"You're expecting me to vouch for you?"

"Yes."

"For God's sake, Malfoy!"

"I'm good, aren't I?" he interjected boldly, causing Harry to snap his teeth together. "You saw me out there. Putting aside everything from before, if I was just a regular player, you would want me on your team, wouldn't you?"

"But I can't put the past aside," Harry argued. "No one can. And if you are expecting me to help you, just remember that I've already saved your back more times than I can count and I'm getting awfully tired of your crap."

"You've also nearly gotten me killed," Draco said under his breath.

Harry had to consciously stop himself from handing out a swift punch that could potentially break what he had just fixed a minute ago. Of course Malfoy had a point. That's what was so irritating. It wasn't everyday that an ex-Death Eater stepped out into the public. After trials and sentencing, most Dark Army followers had gone into hiding, taking up quiet jobs or moving away to start a new life. Being an auditor for the Quidditch League was pretty damned obscure. So going from that to an international Chaser would not be easy for someone with Draco's past.

Harry absently pulled up some blades of grass between his bloodstained fingers. Last time he had seen the Malfoys, they had been in Wizengamot. Draco and Narcissa had been acquitted, but Lucius had been sentenced to some years in Azkaban. Harry had had to provide the court with evidence in the form of memories and testimony. His part had taken less than ten minutes. In fact, thinking back, he had left before the court had even reached a decision. He had been that indifferent about the whole ordeal.

Now he was starting to wonder what Draco had gone through all those years ago. He couldn't imagine.

"You've never won against me, have you?"

"Ah, shut up."

Harry smiled to himself. "I thought so." He got up and held his hand out. "Let's go."

Draco slapped his hand away and helped himself up. "Nothing to gloat about," he grumbled. "I was hardly skilled back then." He picked his broom up off the ground. "Besides, I would have won this time if you hadn't broken my nose."

"You always had a damned excuse," Harry snorted. If Malfoy needed him, then so be it.

Brock was still recuperating from the near heart attack he had had minutes ago. He was this close to seeing Harry Potter break his own neck. He set his cup of tea down and sat down shakily on the chair, mumbling, "Oh boy..."