Draco

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"A Muggle book?" shouted Draco.

Pansy suddenly dropped the book as if it carried a disease. She looked at Theo with a look of disgust as he picked it up off the floor. His cheeks were flushed, he avoided the gaze of his friends and curled up against his chair with the book in his hand.

"Theo, what the hell are you doing with a thing like that?" hissed Pansy, scandalized.

"It's nothing." he said calmly.

His tone contrasted too much with his red cheeks and embarrassment to be true.

"What do you mean, nothing?" insisted Pansy.

"It's nothing, I'm just reading it for my... Culture."

"Your Muggle culture?" pressed Draco.

Pansy and Draco both stood in front of Theo, who held his book to his chest, as if to protect himself from their words. He nodded several times and ran a hand through the mass of curly hair he had, a gesture he often made when he was stressed.

"How can you read that?" asked Pansy.

"You don't even know what it's about!"

"I don't need to, I know it's Muggle!"

"So what? Don't you ever have any interest in it?"

"No!" said Pansy in her sharp voice.

"He's practically a wizard, that author." said Theo. "It's about 19th century underwater exploration, no Muggle would have managed to pull off that feat..."

"Then why don't you read wizarding books directly, Nott?" said Draco. "There are thousands of them in the Library!"

"Because I'm curious." explained Theo, still avoiding eye contact with Pansy and Draco. He wanted to appear more casual, but his tense posture betrayed his anxiety. "I'm interested in everything, and Muggle literature... I don't know, I like some books! Does that make me a traitor?"

"Yes!" said Draco and Pansy in chorus.

"Stop it, leave him alone." interjected Blaise.

Draco turned to him. He was sitting on the couch, perfectly peaceful. Pansy stepped back in shock:

"What? You knew about this?"

"Of course I know about it, I've known Theo for ten years."

"How can you approve of this?" asked Draco.

"I guess you did too." replied Blaise with a small smile. "You've been hanging out with Theo for a year, and you never wanted to know what he was reading?"

"We never thought he could read this."

"You don't even know what you're talking about, Pans'!" said Theo. "If only you'd read them, some of the books are really well written and..."

"Stop it!" cut in Pansy. "How dare you say that! And your father, what does he think of this reading?"

Theo's cheeks flamed even more and he lowered his head. It was Blaise who replied in a trenchant tone:

"Who cares what his father thinks? Do you always listen to yours? When you're putting on makeup, or sleeping in Draco's bed?"

Pansy opened her eyes wide, but answered nothing. She sat down on the couch behind her and crossed her arms over her chest. Draco sat down next to her and ran a hand over his face, as if waking up from a bad nightmare.

How had this evening gone so wrong? First that strange message on the wall, then Theo reading Muggle books? Was he going to learn that Blaise was a Mudblood before he went to bed?

Draco noticed that some of the people around them were listening in on their conversation, probably because of their loud voices which must have attracted their curiosity. He ignored them. Theo, on the other hand, was turning his book around to keep his hands busy during the long silence. He finally spoke again, whispering:

"I know that you are attached to your parents' values, and I understand. But I don't. I think my father is wrong, and that he is a bad person. I'm interested in this because I want to understand what my father is hiding from me."

Pansy didn't answer anything: her lips were pursed and her eyes wandered between Theo and Blaise, who held her gaze with a defiant gleam in his eyes.

Draco asked:

"Is that why you accepted Crabbe and Goyle's offer? Because you don't want to carry your family name anymore, and your father will disown you?"

Draco thought back to the black holes on the parchment of his family tree that he had learned the year before. He imagined the name Theodore Nott Junior crossed out roughly. How could he even consider that?

Theo shrugged vaguely and finally dared to look up at Draco:

"I don't know, but I figure if it happens, it's best to be careful."

Blaise nodded in agreement. Pansy said nothing. She sighed, stood up, and went to join Daphne Greengrass who was standing by the fireplace in the Common Room without a word.

Draco thought about what Nott had just said. He had never questioned his father's words, the values his family had passed on to him. He knew that Muggles were inferior, and that Mudbloods did not deserve to learn magic. Only Purebloods deserved an education. One only had to look at Granger to understand that they were special, that they were strange.

But he had to admit that what Nott was saying intrigued him. He had never heard people of his age and rank speak like that. He was both disgusted and in awe.

That evening, Draco entered his dormitory with Pansy. They changed in silence, and no sooner had they entered Draco's bed than Pansy waved her wand to close the curtains and put a silence spell in place that prevented Blaise and Theo from hearing what they said. Draco heard Blaise's irritated sigh from across the room, but Pansy ignored it. They both lay down and Pansy immediately put her elbow against the mattress so she could look at Draco:

"Can we talk about what just happened?"

Draco stared at the ceiling of his four-poster bed: it was green and draped. He took a deep breath and said in a breath:

"Which part? The Chamber of Secrets or the fact that Nott reads Muggle books?"

"Both. What do we think?"

Draco liked the fact that she pronounced 'we' when talking about their opinions. He felt the same way, the need to put his own thoughts and Pansy's, which were always the same, into perspective, as if they shared the same brain.

"I don't know about that. Regarding Nott, I'm really surprised."

"Did you know he had plans to emancipate himself from his father?"

Draco shook his head against his pillow:

"No. But I have to admit, I don't really blame him for that. His father is the worst of our parents, by far."

He had a vague recollection of Nott's father, and every time he'd run into him he'd gotten a big shiver down his spine. Next to him, Lucius was a kind and loving dad.

"Yes, but still... A Muggle book!"

Draco wasn't very objective. During his first year at Hogwarts, he had befriended Theo. He'd turned out to be funny, kind, interesting, they'd spent many evenings talking or laughing in their dormitory, and he'd grown fond of his seriousness and tics, which he now knew by heart. He had finally understood why he and Blaise had been friends for so many years.

Draco had never liked him before, but now, Theodore Nott was one of his best friends. He didn't want to get away from him, and even less so because he was reading.

"I don't know..." began Draco in a hesitant voice. "I like Nott. Do I agree with what he reads? No. Does that mean I don't want to be friends with him anymore? No, neither."

Pansy thought about his words. He tried again to convince her:

"They're just books, Pans'. He wants to rebel against his father by reading Muggle books, it's a weird method I grant you, but I can understand it. We don't have to approve of it though."

"Blaise approves of it."

"All the more reason! Blaise is always right, you know that."

Pansy grinned weakly.

"Well... All right. If you accept it, then I'll follow you."

Draco rested his head against her arms and looked at the top of her bed for a few seconds before Pansy's small voice spoke up once more:

"What about the Chamber of Secrets?"

He turned to her: she looked genuinely scared. It reminded him of when she had asked him if he was sure he would be sent to Slytherin, last summer. Her porcelain face was streaked with a worried crease between her eyebrows, and her dark eyes were almost pleading. She needed reassurance, and as was often the case, she rarely flaunted it in public, only when she was alone with Draco.

"Don't worry, it's probably just a joke by a student who wanted to cause panic, that's all. And in the worst case, if it really exists and is really open, so much the better! We'll never get hit, we're Purebloods."

Pansy nodded, as if to convince herself, but she still looked worried. Draco was suddenly exhausted from talking so much and the aftermath of what they had experienced after the feast, so he turned to show Pansy that he was going to sleep and she didn't say another word.

It was only ten minutes later that she dared to come closer to him. He felt her head resting against his shoulder and her breath on his neck, and he fell asleep in tune with her breathing.

Draco

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Lucius had made a habit of sending him more mail than he used to. Draco suspected that his mother was the cause and had ordered him to write more often, but Draco was still touched by the gesture. His father sent newspaper clippings, letters, sometimes even gifts. So Draco was happy to receive mail the next morning, but his joy was short-lived when he read the note Ebony had brought him:

Dear Draco,

We'd like to inform you that we'll be going to Siberia with your mother during the month of December to settle some family business. You will have to stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas holidays.

Best wishes,

Lucius Malfoy.

Draco read the note several times and sighed in disappointment. Theo and Blaise turned to him in anticipation of an explanation, but Draco handed the letter to Pansy. She frowned, grabbed the paper and read it silently. When she had finished, she looked up and met Draco's gaze. His dark eyes were bright.

"What? But... Why?" she said in a breath.

"I don't know... I think I have some family on my father's side over there, my father probably has to go over there on some urgent business..."

He could see from Pansy's disappointed face that this wasn't really the reason she was expecting. Draco had no excuse for it, he was as disgusted as she was.

Blaise took the letter from Pansy's hands and read it in turn, then passed it to Nott, who passed it to Crabbe and Goyle. Pansy had not looked away.

"But... I have to go home." she muttered.

"I know."

This was the first time he and Pansy would spend a Christmas apart since they were children. He had never spent Christmas without her. He felt a strange sensation in the pit of his stomach, as if the weight of this revelation suddenly fell into his body.

"We'll stay too, Draco."

Crabbe pointed to Goyle and himself with a wave of his hand. Draco felt like telling them that it didn't really comfort him, but he didn't want to be mean, so he gave them a small smile:

"Thanks, guys."

"I can stay too." said Blaise, which lightened Draco's mood. "My mum probably won't be there anyway."

"Great, I'll be alone with my dad on Christmas Eve." Pansy grumbled.

"I'll be there." Theo said softly.

He hadn't spoken since the day before, since they'd found out the title of his book. Pansy raised her head and took a long look at Nott, before simply whispering:

"Thanks, Theo."

He looked relieved.

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As he had expected, his mother's letter arrived the next morning. In it, she explained at length the reason for their absence, an important family matter, a will, a funeral, and other explanations where Draco did not linger any longer. His mother always caught up with what Lucius said, she took more time to explain the situation and apologize, but it didn't change anything his father had said. They would not be spending Christmas together.

Draco took advantage of his Saturday day to go to the Library with Theo. They had continued to talk to each other as if nothing had happened, and Theo had the good sense not to read a Muggle book in front of him, lest he start another argument. Instead, he dwelt on the two History of Magic essays he had to hand in for Crabbe and Goyle, while Draco took out a parchment to write a letter to his father:

Dear Father,

I received your letter. I'm a little disappointed that I won't be able to spend Christmas with you this year, but I understand that you're busy with the will thing.

Something strange has happened here. As we were leaving the Halloween feast, we came across a message written on one of the walls of Hogwarts: "The Chamber of Secrets has been opened, enemies of the heir, beware."

Do you know anything about this? I know you've mentioned this Chamber of Secrets before, but I can't remember in what context. The heir's enemies are the Muggles? Has it ever been opened? Is it really a legend?

A lot of people are asking questions here, the whole Castle has been talking about it for two days. Pansy is distraught, but I reassured her that it was probably a prank by a student, and that it doesn't concern us anyway.

The weird thing is that it was Potter who was found out front. Of all the students at Hogwarts, he's the one caught in the act! What do you think? I know you said we shouldn't criticise St. Potter because he's supposed to have saved the wizarding world, but this is still very strange.

Please answer me quickly.

Best wishes,

Draco.

He read his letter to Theo who nodded when he had finished:

"Perfect. I hope he can give us some answers soon. I don't dare ask my father, he'd probably say I'm sticking my nose into things that don't concern me."

Draco shrugged: he didn't mind doing it. He was curious, sometimes a little too curious, but his father had never discouraged him from doing so. He didn't see how asking a few questions could be intrusive.

"Do you want to come to the owlery with me to send the letter?" asked Draco as he stood up.

"No, sorry. I'm swamped with these two jerks' essays. They told me to just correct what they had already written, but I didn't even understand their scrolls, so I decided to start over."

Draco sneered:

"Willing to do anything to earn 20 Galleons, then. I'm off, see you at dinner."

Nott nodded in agreement as he continued to write at full speed. Draco walked out of the Library, down the corridor, glared at some first years to scare them, out the Castle door and towards the owlery.

The journey to the tower was always a long one, and had to pass through places outside where Draco had to endure a few seconds of wet and cold weather. When he finally climbed the stairs and arrived at the door, he heard someone already inside. He did not knock and went straight into the circular room, which was covered with feathers and owl droppings. Even after Blaise's detention, the floor was still dirty.

He looked up to see who was already inside, and swore to himself when he saw Granger's huge tuft of hair in front of him.

Hermione

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"Dear Hermione,

First of all, sorry for the wait. It took me a while to write the letter and get it to your parents, I'm pretty swamped with homework myself.

I finished my science presentation, but I don't think I was particularly brilliant. You know me, biology's not my thing. I did get a very good grade in music class, though, but my parents said they didn't care because you can't have a career in music. I don't agree with that at all (look at the Beatles!) but I decided not to go down that road with them.

Mary is fine, but we are not in the same class this year. She's managed to make friends since the first day of school. I'm still hanging out with Adam, I don't know if I've mentioned him before, he's really nice and he's got a Walkman, so we spend our days listening to music in the school yard.

I'm sorry to hear that you're buried in work too. I hope you are still able to enjoy the student life at boarding schools. Are there parties in the dorms? The atmosphere must be great. Harry and Ron seem cool, especially if they managed to get detention on the first day. Not your style at all! What did they do to make you friends with them? Or worse, what did they do with the Hermione Granger I know who can't stand the slightest deviation from school rules?

The boy you mentioned worries me a bit. Reading you, he sounds perfectly obnoxious. You're not wrong when you say that he must be jealous of you because you're better than him in every subject. I mean, even I'm jealous. What I don't understand is how someone couldn't like you? You're kind, a little too kind, and you always help people who need it. That guy's missing out if he'd rather hate you. He's not worth your time, don't worry about it. Ignore him, spend time with the people you like, that's the most important thing. He'll be sorry.

My family is fine, my parents send their love to you. Thomas spends his time locked in his room, he says he's doing his homework but I don't believe it, I can hear his guitar through the door. Leonie doesn't talk much either. And I spend my time doing homework and working, I don't even have time to draw anymore.

Looking forward to the Christmas holidays.

Love,

Danny."

It took Hermione almost an hour to write a letter to Danny, Mary, and her parents. She had to be constantly careful not to reveal anything magical to her two muggle friends and so spent her time re-reading her letter to check.

She gathered the three letters and tied them with a string and informed Ron and Harry that she would meet them at Hagrid's house after going to the owlery.

She climbed the infernal stairs to the windowless room. The cool autumn wind made her shiver under her jacket. She surveyed the rows of owls to find the most inconspicuous one when she heard the door open behind her.

Draco Malfoy.

She almost sighed when she saw him, but held back. She wanted to follow Danny's advice, which was to ignore him, but it was so hard when you were facing the most insufferable boy at Hogwarts.

"Granger." he said in his drawl, greeting her. "Writing to your Muggle parents? Explaining to them how a wand works?"

"And you, writing to your parents asking for another 2001 Nimbus?"

Hermione noticed out of the corner of her eye that Draco had raised his eyebrows at her retort. He shouldn't have expected that, and to be honest, neither did she. Her resolution to ignore him had gone up in smoke.

"Why are you always more insolent when you're not around Potter? Are you afraid he'll find out what a degenerate you really are if he hears you addressing me that way?"

"No, absolutely not. Harry doesn't think I'm a degenerate. Nor do you, for that matter. I think you've been so lulled by your parents' racist remarks that you've never wanted to look beyond the end of your nose, and you realize that I'm actually perfectly normal."

Hermione's back was still to Malfoy, facing the hundreds of owls who bobbed their heads as they took turns looking at Hermione and Draco, as if they were following the argument.

"But you're not normal, Granger. You're a Mudblood, you grew up with Muggles. You don't belong here." Malfoy continued in his drawl.

"You don't even know what you're talking about. Have you ever actually seen Muggles?"

Draco didn't answer anything. Hermione turned around to gauge his expression, and he huffed a mocking laugh:

"No need, I know they're more limited than we are."

"For someone who wants to appear indifferent, you're rather obsessed with where I'm from," Hermione retorted. "You only talk about them, it almost seems like you'd be... curious. But you don't dare admit it to yourself, and you hide behind the prejudices your parents taught you not to reveal yourself, am I right?"

Draco looked surprised. Hermione hid a smile: she was sure she had unnerved him because she was far too close to the truth.

"Not at all." said Draco a little too quickly. "I'm not curious, I'm disgusted. And it's not prejudice. You saw it yourself: the Chamber of Secrets has been opened, Granger. You shouldn't be wandering around the owlery, you might get killed by the monster."

He chuckled coldly. Hermione called to a grey owl with a wave of her hand, which stretched its wings from its perch.

"So, you do believe in this legend. No wonder."

"I suppose we'll see, when you die from your impertinence. I'm staying at Hogwarts for the Christmas holidays, I hope you're gone by then. That would be a very nice Christmas present."

"Of course, Malfoy, of course. You say that, but you don't believe a word of it." added Hermione, disinterested.

The grey owl finally flew up and landed on Hermione's outstretched arm. She looked at it for a few seconds, then turned to Draco:

"Does that owl look like a pigeon to you?"

He looked completely bewildered at this question. His contemptuous smile faded and he frowned:

"Huh?"

"Does this owl look like a pigeon to you? I have to send the letter to my parents and I wouldn't want the neighbours to think it's an owl."

She almost burst out laughing at his look of incomprehension.

"Uh... I..."

"Okay, that'll be it."

She tied her letters to its paw and watched the owl fly away through one of the glassless windows of the owlery.

"I think you're trying to scare me with your threats, but I don't mind." Hermione said as she headed for the exit. "I'm not scared of you, Malfoy. Say hi to Mum and Dad for me."

She walked down the stairs before he could reply and headed for Hagrid's hut. The courtyard was foggy and the clouds above her were grey. It was going to rain. Hermione wondered vaguely if Malfoy could see her walking from the high tower of the owlery, but she didn't risk looking.

When she arrived at Hagrid's hut, Ron and Harry were laughing about one of Professor Lockhart's classes, and the cinnamon tea and their laughter prevented Hermione from telling them what had just happened.

Hermione

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On Sunday, Hermione headed for the Library.

The main reason was to get away from the gossip and whispers she heard everywhere she went. The whole Castle was talking about Mrs Norris and the famous message on the wall. Hermione was curious too, but she was tired of the stares she and Harry got whenever they went anywhere.

She preferred to do her research on her own and learn what she could about this Chamber of Secrets legend, because none of the rumours she had heard helped her understand what it was.

So she went to the Hogwarts section to try and find some information about the Chamber of Secrets. She selected about ten books and walked over to her favourite table in the Library, but it was already occupied. Hermione was so surprised to see someone already sitting there that she stood still for several seconds before moving to another table nearby. It was fine too, but the chair was less comfortable, and she didn't have the view from the window.

She looked longingly at her favourite table. Blaise Zabini was leaning against one of the chairs, probably doing his homework. On the other side, facing him, was Theodore Nott. Hermione had seen him before in the Slytherin group, he was the most discreet. He had hair that looked like Harry's because it was long and spilled over his forehead, but the two differences were that it was lighter than Harry's, and curly.

Nott wasn't as tall as Zabini, but still above average. Every time she saw him, he had a book in his hands, much like her. This intrigued her. Curious as she was, she squinted a little to read the title. "Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea."

Hermione's eyes widened. A Muggle book?! Theodore Nott, a Slytherin, was reading Muggle books? She wondered if the other Slytherins had ever noticed what he was reading. Perhaps the book, which was brown and without any indication other than its title, didn't give away that it was a Muggle book. Blaise Zabini could read the title from where he was standing, but he didn't seem to notice, or he didn't care.

Hermione felt a wave of affection for Nott without really knowing why. It was quite brave to read this kind of book in a House that was so closed-minded on the subject. She wondered if Draco Malfoy knew. No, he certainly didn't, they probably wouldn't be friends otherwise.

Hermione realised that she had been sitting for five minutes and had been so attentive at the next table that she hadn't opened a single book. She shook her head and got to work. She scoured the contents of each book, read whole paragraphs trying to find a mention, a reference, but nothing. Even the book 'Hogwarts Underground: What Lies Beneath the Dungeons' didn't mention the Chamber of Secrets at all.

Hermione returned to the Library the following Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. Each time, her search was in vain. She couldn't find any explanation of what the legend of the Chamber of Secrets might be. Sitting at her favourite table, which she had found again, she spent her time angrily closing book after book. If no one had mentioned the legend, it must be false.

On Tuesday, during lunch, Draco Malfoy was sitting at one of the tables in the Library, which Hermione could see through a shelf in front of her. She thought about what he had said about the Chamber. He seemed to know a lot about it, which intrigued her.

If he wasn't such a jerk, she would have stood up and asked him directly, but she knew that he would have more fun threatening her than actually answering her, so she let it go. What would be perfect would be to sneak into the Slytherin Common Room to hear what he was saying and find out what he knew. No, that was a strange idea, she was far too curious.

On Wednesday, Ron and Harry decided to come with her to the Library. It was very rare. They sat at a much larger table and Hermione absentmindedly watched Ron do his homework when a memory struck her.

"I know! I know!"

Hermione stood up hurriedly under Ron's bewildered gaze and headed to the 'Hogwarts' section she had already been searching since Sunday. She knew where she had read this famous legend, it was in 'Hogwarts : A History'! She remembered perfectly the moment she had read it for the first time, sitting on her bench in London.

She knelt down but could not find any of the copies of the book she was looking for. So she walked over to Madam Pince's counter, and waited quietly until she had finished sorting out the books to ask her:

"'Good afternoon! Are there no more copies of 'Hogwarts : A History?'"

The librarian shook her head, obviously used to the question.

"No, I'm sorry. There's a two-week waiting list, all the students have jumped on. Do you want me to add your name to the list?"

"No, that's fine." said Hermione, not hiding her disappointment. "Do you remember the bit about the legend of the Chamber of Secrets? Could you tell me about it?"

Madam Pince waved her hands in front of her as if to ward off his question:

"I'm not the best person to talk about that. You should ask one of your teachers, he'll be much more knowledgeable than I am."

And she ran off towards the 'Magical Plants' section. Hermione sighed and returned to the table, where Harry had sat in the meantime:

"All the copies of 'Hogwarts : A History"'have been borrowed." she explained. "And there's a two week waiting list. I regret leaving my copy at home, but with all the Lockhart books, I couldn't fit it in my trunk."

"Why did you want that book?" asked Harry.

"For the same reason as the others. To read the legend of the Chamber of Secrets."

Hermione felt silly for forgetting where she had read the legend, she could have borrowed the book long before. Perhaps she could ask her mother to send it to her by owl.

"What's this?"

"That's just it, I can't remember." Hermione replied thoughtfully. "And I can't find the story in any other book."

The bell rang at this point and Hermione decided to ask Professor Binns. Even though it wasn't really on the syllabus, she was sure she would get the answer to her question by asking one of the oldest teachers in the school.

Draco

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"Come on, have some pumpkin juice."

Draco looked at the glass Blaise was handing him with a disgusted look. He'd been nauseous since he'd woken up, and even more so since he'd put on his Quidditch robes in front of the mirror.

Even Pansy, who wasn't a huge Quidditch fan, looked distressed for him, which made his stress even worse. Draco lifted his head to look at the ceiling: it was going to rain, there were huge grey clouds darkening the Great Hall.

"No, thank you. I'm fine." lied Draco.

"Are you kidding?" said Blaise. "You're even paler than usual, you'll soon be joining the Bloody Baron with that face on. Get something to eat, or you'll pass out before you can get on your broom!"

Draco gave in to his best friend's request and ate a piece of bacon and a glass of ice water. He kept bouncing his leg on the floor to let off steam, despite Pansy's protestations that it made her nervous. At about nine o'clock, Nott joined them at the Slytherin table.

"If it makes you feel any better," he said, stepping over the bench, "Potter is in the same state as you."

He pointed behind him and Draco spotted Potter, looking very stressed. Beside him, the Weasley twins were laughing. Marcus Flint then approached him and Draco straightened up and stopped wiggling his leg:

"Are you alright Malfoy?" he threw out, shaking his hand. "Ready to tear it up? We're counting on you, you need to beat Potter."

He walked away to cheer on one of the Beaters. Nott raised his eyebrows:

"He's... motivating."

At 10:30, Draco went out with his Slytherin gang to the game. It was the first time he had ever headed to the changing rooms, not the stands. He could feel the stress rising with every step he took, like a ball slowly rising in his throat and gradually preventing him from breathing.

"Don't worry Draco, you're going to be great." said Pansy, patting his arm.

"Just pretend we're in my backyard and it'll be fine." advised Blaise.

Theo, Blaise, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle wished him well one last time before climbing the stairs to the towers, while Draco made his way to the changing rooms. The team was almost complete, and as he had already put on his robes, he simply sat on the bench and squeezed the handle of his Nimbus 2001 until his knuckles turned white.

Flint's speech was partially masked by the exclamations of the audience outside and the wind banging against the walls. Draco thought he heard the words "rain", "rage" and "Potter" before Flint ordered them out, far too soon for Draco's liking. He walked to the door, then outside, and the cold hit him like a jolt.

He looked around and saw that the players had already gotten on their brooms. He did the same, oblivious to the outside noise from the audience. He was so stressed that he couldn't hear anything, or was it the disastrous weather that was ringing in his ears?

He heard Madam Hooch whistle and he rose into the air. The feeling of the wind against his face that he usually loved was no comfort this time. He took deep breaths to calm himself and followed Blaise's advice: this was his garden, familiar ground... no pressure...

He saw Potter who was also rising in the air.

"'All right there, Scarhead?" snapped Draco.

He sped up on his broom beside him to try and impress him with his 2001 Nimbus. Potter looked at him with envy before turning his gaze away to look for the Golden Snitch. A Bludger came at full speed and nearly hit him.

Draco circled the field on his broom. He had noticed when he watched the games from the stands that Potter's tactic was to stay in one place to watch the game and hope to find the Golden Snitch at the same time. Draco did not do the same thing at all: he had become accustomed to covering the entire field at full speed, and would inevitably come across a golden flash as fast as he was racing.

So he flew over the ground several times as fast as he could. When it started to rain, he braked and looked at the crowd of Slytherins in the stands: Pansy was in the front row with Blaise, they were both wearing their house scarves and waving their hands so Draco could recognize them.

That's when he saw him. His father, seated on the platform, who stood out with his stature and wind-blown blonde hair. He wore no expression, but his hands were clenched on his cane. Draco swallowed when he saw him, he didn't think he'd be there, and it put an extra pressure on his shoulders.

His mother was next to him, much smaller, but she gave him a big smile when she saw him stop in front of them and that reassured him a little. He continued on his way, even more anxious than before. The ball of stress that had come up was now stuck in his throat, and he found it hard to concentrate on the game when he felt his father's piercing grey gaze on his back.

To top it off, it began to rain. Draco's hands held the handle of the Nimbus 2001, but they kept slipping and his vision was blurred. He could hardly see a Chaser from his team score through the hoops several times, but he had no idea what the points were. He flew haphazardly, looking for a golden ball in the grey landscape around him.

"Slytherin leads sixty points to zero!" the commentator exclaimed.

Draco felt the stress ease slightly as he heard this. He knew that the game was really all about him and his ability to find the Golden Snitch, but it was nice to know that his team wasn't making fools of themselves.

He looked down at the pitch and saw that Potter was surrounded by the two Beaters, whom Draco recognized by their red hair. At that moment there was a whistle and Marcus Flint gestured for Draco to come down. When he found the ground again, the Slytherin team was already placed in a circle:

"What's going on? Why is there a pause?" asked Adrian Pucey.

"No idea." replied Marcus Flint, gauging the Gryffindors with his evil eye. "Potter's struggling, I understand he took a Bludger. We can't see anything in this rain. Draco, have you spotted the Golden Snitch yet?"

"No." the blond answered timidly.

"Keep looking. We're leading, that should help. Good luck to everyone!"

The team dispersed again and Draco returned to the air. As he waited for the Gryffindors to return to their broomsticks, he turned to the Slytherin stands. He saw Pansy's face in the crowd, smiling and giving him thumbs up in encouragement.

The whistle signalled the end of the break and Draco set off again in search of the Golden Snitch. He sped around the field, and even thought he saw a golden sphere before it slipped away. Annoyed, he rose into the air again and then saw Potter, who was dancing on his broom. Draco stopped and watched as the boy went up and down, twisting and looping on his broom.

"Ready for the ballet, Potter?" laughed Draco.

Potter turned to him and gave him a hateful look. Draco then saw the Bludger coming from the left and hitting Potter full force. Draco heard an ominous "crack" sound in his ears, and then suddenly Potter threw himself at him. He could see his pain-stricken face coming dangerously close to him.

"What the..." began Draco.

Before Potter's outstretched arm could reach him, he dodged as fast as his Nimbus 2001 would allow and narrowly avoided it. He looked over his shoulder and saw Potter fall forward, barely holding on to his broom, his broken arm hanging pitifully down his side. There was a loud general exclamation of surprise from the audience, before he collapsed to the ground in the mud.

Draco almost laughed at the rather miserable sight from above. But his smile dissipated the moment he spotted the small golden ball in Potter's closed hand on the ground.

He realised that Gryffindor had won a minute after the public. He couldn't hear the cheers from the crowd, or the comments shouted into the speaker. He didn't look at Blaise, or Pansy, or Theo, or Snape. He automatically turned to his father. And his face, tense with anger and disappointment, dropped the ball of stress that had been lodged in his throat to the bottom of his stomach.