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As soon as Ginny stepped on the pitch, her troubled thoughts drifted away. The place had always had such a calming effect on her. When she focused her mind solely on Quidditch, nothing else mattered, not even Harry.
His name made her conversation with him—and the mental voice smirking in the back of her mind—bubble to the forefront of her thoughts again. Draco liked her as more than a friend? It was ridiculous! He could not possibly think of her that way. Her mind was merely playing tricks on her.
Besides, I told Harry the truth. I'm not ready for a relationship. It wouldn't be fair to him or to Draco.
The crowd waiting for her provided a welcome distraction. After nodding at her fellow Gryffindors, Ginny strolled past them towards a large, nondescript brown box. Excited eyes followed her movements. She ignored them and unlatched the strap, pulling out a red ball around twelve inches in diameter. The Bludgers and the Snitch she kept inside for later.
"Alright, let's get started. Line up by position you're trying out for. Keepers here, Chasers next, then Beaters after them, and finally Seekers at the end," she instructed, pointing out the various locations.
After everyone had shuffled into place, Ginny walked up and down the line, inspecting each Gryffindor. The sight sparked a glow of pride in her chest.
Six of them are going to be my team, she thought, her smile growing in wonder.
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"I don't care if you don't like me. You had just better be able to throw a Quaffle, guard a goalpost, or hit a Bludger." Draco's voice rose above the mutters that swept the crowd of Slytherins. "Shut it! Get in line or get hexed by Zabini here. And let me tell you, he rarely misses. Now move it!"
"You certainly have a way with words," Zabini remarked as the others grudgingly stepped into place.
Though he had refused to try out for the team, he had still strolled after Draco, whistling all the while. Currently, he was acting as Assistant Captain, an occupation the Captain was quite sure he had made up.
"Thank you, Assistant Captain," Draco growled, shoving past him to grab his broom. "Mount up, people. You just saw the tail end of the Gryffindor's tryouts, and I expect more from you buffoons than squabbling and gossiping like usual. They have some decent players this year, not to mention a particularly stubborn Captain."
She never mentioned that part during our detentions. How convenient.
"With Potter gone, we have a shot at winning the Cup this year. Seeing as this is my last year here, I will not let Weasley take it from me, so you idiots had better gear up for some heavy flying. No more fighting among yourselves. Teamwork is the key here. And yes, I know how that sounds coming from my mouth. Just shut up and show me what you got."
"This should be interesting," Zabini mused to himself, crossing his arms and leaning lazily against one of the goalposts. His smirk grew into a grin as three Slytherins flew into one another. Draco sped towards them, spewing threats about imminent death for incompetent idiots. "Very interesting indeed."
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Three hours later, Draco groaned as he hefted his broomstick over his shoulder. "I am so of shape. My muscles feel like pudding." Beside him, Pansy laughed her girlish, fluttery laugh. "Oh Draco, you look as fine as ever. Don't worry about it! You'll be back to the old Draco before you know it," she assured him, tossing her hair frivolously.
Act like nothing's the matter, Pansy silently coached herself. Don't let him know how much it hurts. You have to be there for him. You're his friend, Pansy. Just his friend.
The quick warning glance he shot her stilled her breath. Disgruntled, she crossed her arms and turned her head away. "Oh, don't give me that look. I was only talking about you being in shape, and you know it. We've gone through this. You made yourself quite clear, trust me," she muttered, rolling her eyes.
Sighing in exasperation, Draco grabbed her arm and dragged her forward. "Will you stop it? Look, there's Blaise. I think he wants to talk to you about something."
After making a face at him, she again tossed her hair, flouncing away. Over her shoulder, she called out, "Do be a dear, Draco, and bring my cloak with you. I left it in the stands. Yes, over there! You're such a good friend." Her smug tone irritated him. The underlying softness went unnoticed.
Draco, shaking his head, dug around in his pocket for his wand. "Accio Pansy's cloak!" The black garment rose up from the seat Pansy had left it on and flew towards him. As he reached out to grab it, he spotted a familiar figure stalking towards him. Gritting his teeth against the snarky words that he desperately wanted to say, he folded the cloak over his arm.
"Weasley," Draco said curtly.
Ron ignored the Slytherin's greeting. Eyes ablaze with anger and suspicion, he thrust his finger at Draco's chest. "Don't think I didn't see the way you looked at my sister earlier. Whatever you think you're doing, you better stop it. Ginny is really confused right now, and she doesn't need you messing her life up any more."
The tips of his ears flushed red as his voice dropped to a deadly whisper. "I know what you're doing, Malfoy. You think that by toying with my sister you can somehow get back at Harry, Hermione, and me for taking you and your wretched father down. I've seen you sneaking around the castle at night, staring across the Great Hall tables at Ginny, and just now you actually winked at her! Well let me tell you something Malfoy—there's no way I'm going to let you mess with my sister!"
When Draco smiled, Ron's nose flared in suspicion. "What are you grinning at, Ferret? What's so funny?"
"Oh, you silly Gryffindor," Draco chuckled, shaking his head mockingly. "If only your 'poor, confused little sister' could hear you now. I think we both know that Ginevra is far from a little girl." As his smile turned into a sneer, the Slytherin took a step forward, thrusting his own finger at Ron's chest.
"And you, my friend, are mistaken. I didn't wink at her at all. I'm shocked you would accuse me of such a horrendous crime," he mocked, splaying his hand over his heart as if wounded. "No, that was merely dust in my eye. If I wanted to wink at her, I would have done so in full view of everyone else just to see the reaction I garnered. Oh, and Ginevra would have most definitely winked back. You know how girls are."
"Why you—!" Ron snarled, drawing his fist back.
"That's enough!" Startled, the two boys turned around to see Ginny Weasley striding towards them.
"What's going on here?" she demanded as soon as she reached them. "Malfoy, don't you even think about using that wand! And you, Ron, have better sense than to fight him. McGonagall will have you both in detention for weeks." Her gaze landed on Draco pointedly. When he averted his eyes, a flush peaking up from his collar, her eyebrows rose. "Now somebody better tell me what this is all about."
The two boys' gazes met before skittering away. When Ginny's scowl deepened, Draco rolled his eyes. "We were just discussing some…private matters. Now, if you two will excuse me, the Perfect's bathtub is calling me," he declared smoothly, spinning away. His broomstick handle narrowly avoided smacking Ron in the face.
"But you're not a Perfect!" Ron sputtered indignantly. "That'll be three days of detention for you, plus another two for bad attitude. And an additional week for nearly assaulting a Perfect with your broom! Don't get me started on what we were discussing, you prat; that particular incident just earned you two more weeks of detention."
The Slytherin lazily waved his hand as he sauntered away. "Yeah, yeah. Take it up with McGonagall." Behind him, he could hear Ginny's chuckle and Ron's subsequent scolding.
A smile twitched on his lips, and a subtle bounce worked its way into his step. Maybe this good guy routine would not be so hard after all.
