Chapter 23: Quidditch

The next two weeks passed painstakingly slowly. Harry only saw Draco when they had classes together and even then it was scarce. Through a series of notes, the two made the decision that they wouldn't try to meet again for another couple of week—it was too risky.

Harry stepped hesitantly onto the Quidditch field. It was the first game of the season and his first look at the Slytherin team. As he trudged across the field, his anxiety grew. While the practices had been longer, they hadn't been very productive. The new recruits weren't the fastest learners, but they were dedicated. He knew that he had been particularly hard on all of them. But that's my job as captain, right? Harry pushed the thoughts from his mind as he stopped and found himself facing the Slytherin captain. He glanced to both sides and his gaze fell on Malfoy. His breathing quickened slightly and he had to remind himself to look away. Madame Hooch blew the whistle and he kicked off, trying to focus on finding the snitch.

Draco took off and flew to the opposite side of the field. He contentedly scanned the field for the golden ball; but he soon found himself staring directly at Harry. The Gryffindor was coaching his new teammates as best he could, but he looked exhausted. Draco's heart ached for Harry, he wanted nothing more than to fly over to him and just let him know that he was doing a great job as captain. He marveled at how natural Harry looked on his broom; a fire in his eyes burned through the exhaustion as they glittered in the sun. His love for the game, Draco thought as the snitch circled his head. He snapped to attention as the golden fleck shot toward his love. Tilting forward on his broom, he dove straight at the snitch.

Harry looked up just in time to see Draco flying straight at him. He dropped lower and felt the blonde pass over his head. His eyes followed the Slytherin's direction until they rested on his target. Harry soared over and was hot on the blonde's tail when he heard the announcer say "Ten points to Slytherin!" He grit his teeth and flew harder, pulling even with Draco. Harry looked to the side and saw the intense determination in the gray eyes. For a moment, the Slytherin looked back and the two shared a small smile. He quickly turned his attention back to the snitch and urged his broom faster.

Harry felt something heavy and strong crush into his left side. The force knocked him from his broom and sent him spiraling toward the ground. A scream died in his throat as he hit the unforgiving sand below. The crowd gasped before erupting into applause.

Draco held the golden ball tightly in his fingers. A proud smile spread across his face as he showed it off to the spectators. The Slytherins roared their praise as the Gryffindors and a few professors flocked to Harry. Draco's smile flickered as he remembered slamming into something incredibly solid just before winning the game. He didn't think he hit him that hard. Fear, guilt, and worry bloomed in his chest as he looked to the ground and saw the sea of red gathered around a very broken body. He smiled convincingly as he flew to the ground and strode over to his team. A glance at the stands told him something was horribly wrong with Harry, as even Snape looked slightly concerned. He turned his attention back to the Slytherins around him with a smug smirk. As he made his way off the pitch with a large majority of his house in his wake, he heard someone say "I don't know, he's not moving." Draco's heart plummeted and his blood turned to ice. It could only be Harry. He forced himself to keep walking away with a beautifully fabricated smile.

Severus fought the urge to sprint to Potter's too-still form laying in the sand. He watched coldly as Minerva knelt beside the boy. A worried expression crossed her face, confirming his fears. She waved Madame Pomfrey over and shooed the circle of Gryffindors away. The majority of them begrudgingly left the field dragging their feet. Granger and Weasley remained. At least they're smart enough to stay out of the way, he mused silently, trying to distract himself from the cold terror seeping into his chest. Madame Pomfrey quickly levitated Harry and hastened off the field. Severus squinted and could just make out Granger bursting into tears and falling back into Weasley. He closed his eyes and sighed heavily before he got up and made his way to the Slytherin common room to compliment Draco's work.

Draco reclined in a green chair as he watched his house celebrate the victory. Someone had set up a make-shift bar and was mixing drinks as quickly as possible. Music pulsed with a steady beat as a few people danced. Draco tried to reassure himself that Harry was alright, but failing miserably. The dim light was starting to seem too bright, and the music too loud. He couldn't even relax when the warmth of smuggled wine caressed the pit of his stomach. He swirled his glass casually as he turned down dance after dance, trying to think of a way to slip out. His chance came with a knock on the door. The mixologist hid his supplies and Goyle muted the music as a girl turned on the lights.

Snape stepped in, he wasn't interested in what his Slytherins did in the confines of their common room. Quite frankly, he couldn't care less. "Mr. Malfoy," he drawled.

The blonde set his glass down on a nearby table and strode over to him with a smirk. "Yes, professor?"

"What, exactly, is going on here?" Severus growled.

"It's just a party, sir."

"Come."

Draco followed him through the door and it clicked closed behind them. He and Snape walked a few yards before they heard the music come to life once more. "Thanks," he muttered as the two strode down the hall.

"For?"

"For getting me out of there?" Fear slithered down his spine as he considered that the potion master might actually punish him.

"You're welcome," he replied solemnly.

They continued walking silently until they reached the infirmary. Draco's breath caught as the doors opened and he say Harry laying lifelessly in a pristine white bed. He inched closer to the Gryffindor as tears prickled in his eyes. "Harry?" He whispered. His fingers found their way around the cold hand before them. He pressed his burning lips to the icy forehead. A cry chocked it way up his throat as Draco fell to his knees, his fingers still intertwined with Harry's.

Severus watched the interaction silently from the shadows. His heart ached when he saw the look in Draco's eyes. The devotion in the glittering gray pools paralleled that in his onyx eyes when he saw Lily Evans. He put his hand on the blonde's shoulder and helped him into the chair beside Harry's bed.

"Is he…?"

"He's not dead," Snape said dryly.

"I did this," Draco muttered before his shoulders started shaking with sobs. He'd been strong for too long and the walls crashed down. He buried his head in Harry's shoulder as tears burned against his skin. "I'm sorry!" He cried into the thin hospital gown.

Severus remained silent as he watched Draco stroke Harry's hair and tell him how beautiful he was. It killed him to see the pain so evident in the young man's eyes. But what can I do?