Sorry it's been a while, but hopefully the events of this chapter will cheer you up! YAY QUIDDITCH! Reviews are like thousands of hugs in one and I will be eternally grateful. I may even write another drabble in excitement. Or update this faster.

CHAPTER TWENTY

The entire school, students and teachers alike, was buzzing with excitement. Today was the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Quidditch match. The final one between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, to see their outcome of their infamous seven year rivalry on the Quidditch pitch (and off of it)

Needless to say, none of them were aware, except for a select few, that the rivals were trapped in the others body. Both of them were currently sitting in the Great Hall eating breakfast, full of adrenaline for the upcoming match. Blaise was leading the occupants of the Slytherin table in a kind of battle cry for victory. The Gryffindors were retaliating with a rendition of the ever-favoured Weasley is Our King. Blaise aside, the members of the actual Quidditch teams continued to talk normally amongst themselves.

...

"You know," Draco mused, swirling his glass full of pumpkin juice as though it were a goblet of fine wine, "you have me to thank for the origin of this song."

Ron glared at him. "Not really. I think I'd rather these lyrics than the ones you came up with."

"That may be true, but the tune and general basis was all me. At the tender age of fifteen, no less. I think I showed excellent musical potential."

"Is that why you're such a good dancer?" Ginny asked, her eyes widening innocently.

Draco shot her a poisonous glare to which she smirked back at. Ron looked confused for a second, but immediately started a new topic of conversation. Draco couldn't help but feel a touch of gratitude for the boy he not so affectionately thought of as 'that lollygagging ginger.'

"Is everyone ready for the match?"

Ron's statement was met with shouts from across the table. Ron settled in his seat, looking incredibly pleased with himself. Hermione leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. He turned pink, and his face grew even happier. It was safe to say that Ron was very happy with how his life had turned out.

...

Harry's head was hurting. He had woken up with a headache, which was never a good sign on the day of a Quidditch match. Pansy had accompanied him to the Hospital Wing, and he had felt slightly better after a quick potion, but the yelling that Blaise had started was starting to grate on him. After breakfast, he went down with the rest of the Slytherin team to the Quidditch pitch. They all retrieved their broomsticks, and Harry was still not entirely comfortable knowing he would have to fly in the match without his beloved Firebolt. They walked out onto the pitch into a wall of solid sound. The air was full of exhilaration, and by breathing this in, Harry was suddenly filled with adrenaline and ready to fly. He mounted his broom and along with the rest of the team, excluding Blaise took off into the air. He looked around. He saw Ron hovering near the hoops, looking determined. Ginny was in the centre of the pitch, her hair billowing around her. Draco was still on the ground, and shook hands with Blaise, as was the custom. Then they also mounted their brooms and kicked off from the ground. Madam Hooch released the Bludgers and the Snitch. Harry's eyes immediately locked onto it, but it seemed to disappear from sight. Madam Hooch threw the Quaffle into the air and blew the whistle. The match had begun.

Harry began to circle the pitch, watching the rest of the match unfold. Both teams were pretty evenly matched, and with a sense of dread, Harry realised that the outcome of the match would rely on the Seekers. Gryffindor scored first, followed by Slytherin the next minute. The game carried on in this way, the crowd never pausing from their cheers, the atmosphere electric. Ginny and Blaise were currently fighting over possession of the Quaffle. Blaise had it safely tucked under his arm, when Ginny came up next to him brushed her lips across his ear, whispered something and then flew away with the Quaffle. The Gryffindor roared with laughter, and even the Slytherins had a few sniggers. Blaise looked scandalised and shook himself before flying after his girlfriend.

Harry laughed from his perch in midair, before he noticed the unmistakeable glint of gold not too far from him. He immediately shot off. Draco saw this and sped after him. The Snitch was as elusive as ever, and kept changing direction, but the pair of them stayed on its trail. They were more evenly matched than ever, since Draco had the Firebolt and Harry did have that extra skill. The wind whipped through Harry's air, the cold air bracing. They were both at the top of the stadium, the Snitch rocketing towards the sky. They continued their ascent until they were so far away from the pitch, it was silent. The only noises were the heavy breathing of the two boys. Suddenly the Snitch stopped. It hovered for a split second before plummeting back down towards the stadium. Harry and Draco exchanged a bewildered glance before shooting downwards in its wake, for what could quite possibly be the end of the match. They were in the stadium once again, both so focused on the Snitch they ignored the crowd. All of Harry's senses were focused on the Snitch. They were nearly on the ground. Harry's heart was pounding. He broke his gaze from the Snitch to look at Draco. His face was one of pure determination. Harry was struck with all the memories of the Quidditch games when they were younger, how Harry constantly bested him. He remembered the way Draco's father scorned him for being bested. He remembered just how in love he was with Draco, and how seeing him happy made his heart sing. He remembered that he had all the glory he'd ever need and losing a Quidditch match wouldn't affect that, but it would mean everything to Draco, who always lost to him. With that, Harry looked at Draco once again. Draco looked back, still looking determined. They were dangerously near the ground now.

"Yours," Harry mouthed, before pulling out of the dive, pretending to look anguished.

Draco grabbed the Snitch, and landed on the ground neatly, looking faintly stunned.

"Harry Potter has caught the Snitch! Gryffindor wins!" the announcer bellowed.

The Gryffindor team stormed onto the pitch and scooped Draco up victoriously. The Gryffindor part of the stands were cheering so loudly Harry was surprised they didn't lose their voices. Blaise flew up alongside Harry.

"You let him win, didn't you?" he asked quietly.

Harry nodded. "He needed the victory more than me."

Blaise exhaled deeply. "Potter?"

"Yeah?"

Blaise thwacked him around the head. "What the hell is wrong with you? Did you not consider me in your thoughts? I need to win! I needed the victory!"

Blaise was shaking him now, and Harry had to fight laughter. Without warning, Blaise's head was in Harry's shoulder and he was seemed to be sobbing.

"You stupid romantic sap, you lost me the game," he grumbled, "I'm going to punch your lights out when we get back on the ground."

"Of course you will," Harry said comfortingly, before flying towards the ground along with the rest of his team.

The Gryffindor team carried a euphoric, yet still dazed Draco off of the pitch. The Slytherins were subdued as they left. Except Blaise that is, he was still clearly fuming. Harry decided it was best to leave him alone for a while.

...

The Gryffindors had thrown a party once again, even more raucous than the last. However, Draco was sat on the sofa rather than enjoying himself. He had finally succeeded in winning a game of Quidditch against Harry, yet he still felt unfulfilled. He couldn't figure out why Harry had let him win. He had mulled over many possibilities but couldn't put his finger on why. Ginny sank down next to him.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Yeah," Draco said.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"I would have thought you would have been happier finally winning."

"Me too."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Draco narrowed his eyes at her. "Why are you and Granger so insistent on getting me to talk?"

"We're just trying to be there for you. As friends should."

"What makes you think we're friends?"

"I'm dating your best friend. That means we should be at least civil."

"Ugh. You Gryffindors and your morals."

"Shut up. Are you going to come and dance or do I need to get Harry up here?"

"Will you please stop going on about that? I just want to forget about it. I wasn't myself, I was hammered."

"Did you know that alcohol just makes you lose your inhibitions? It gives you the confidence to do things you've always wanted to do but never had the courage to do?"

"Whatever, Weasley. You're starting to sound like Granger. Leave me alone."

Ginny left, grinning.

Draco's mind was going over Ginny's statement. What a load of crap, he thought. Harry and I have never even wanted to be friends.

And then Draco remembered the way that Harry had let him catch the Snitch. He remembered the way that he had savoured feeling Harry's heart beat against his own when they danced. He remembered the way that seeing Harry's face in the mirror each day made his pulse quicken just that little bit.

Maybe we never wanted to be to friends in the past, he thought, but now, maybe I want us to be more.

With that epiphany, Draco buried his head in the sofa, aching with denial. He couldn't fancy Harry Potter. It wasn't true. It couldn't be.

Or could it?

Damn them not being in their own bodies. This is so frustrating. I'm going to make them change back soon...but that means nearing the end of the story...OH NOES. I will miss you all dearly when that time comes.

Ok, so my favourite canon couple...

Ron&Hermione. For reasons I can't explain, I just adore them. They're opposites in some ways but they're still perfect together. I have no other words.

Next question? Let's keep to the Quidditch theme!

Which Quidditch position would you play and why?