(no subject)
For maniacalmuse...
It was easy when there was no one else around. When there was no team with all their expectations weighing him down, he could fly with all the grace of something born to the air. When there was no Potter, he could catch the Snitch as if it were all that was keeping him breathing.
But catching the Snitch alone in the dark didn’t mean anything.
He landed smoothly, the Snitch still struggling in his left palm, and crossed the pitch to the locker rooms. It would be past curfew soon, but he was in no hurry to change out of his Quidditch robes. No, that wasn’t it. He just wasn’t in any hurry to return to a common room restless with their loss.
His loss…
He kicked the bench so hard that it clattered into another, filling his ears with the angry sound. It hadn’t made him feel any better, and was only made worse when he heard a surprised voice from behind him.
“Malfoy?”
“Weasel,” he said harshly, turning around to find the Weasley girl looking at him with just a hint of apprehension. “Just the last species I wanted to see.”
“Well, running into a ferret wasn’t exactly high on my list of Dreams Come True. Even if he is an Amazing Bouncing one,” she added with a grin, which signaled that she obviously thought she was being funny. Her Gryffindor sense of humor did little to lighten his mood - although admittedly no joke about his experience with Professor Moody the year before was likely to make him laugh, no matter what house the speaker was from.
“What are you doing in the Slytherin locker rooms, anyway?” he demanded, hoping against hope that she would just leave.
“I was just coming out to get in some practice when I heard an awful noise in here.”
“You should be more careful. You might have walked in on one of our players getting shagged.”
Ginny laughed. “Like any of your team ever gets sha - ” She dropped off quickly, seeing the dark expression he shot at her, and seemed unsure of what to say next.
He was quiet for a moment himself, before asking, “What are you practicing for, anyway?”
She still looked a bit shocked. “You mean you haven’t heard?”
He cast his eyes up. “Yes, Weasel. I know everything. I’m just testing you.”
“Well, that awful Professor Umbridge has banned Harry, Fred and George from the team, and - ”
Once again he cut her off, his stormy gray eyes lit up as they caught hers. “Potter got kicked off the team?”
“Yeah.”
“Potter? As in the Boy Who Lived to Give Slytherins a Bad Name? Harry Potter is no longer playing Quidditch?”
“No, and I’ll be sure to let him know how sympathetic you were about it.”
“Potter can have my sympathy when I have his. As for you,” and he couldn’t help smirking at her in his delight, “a few more statements like that, and you’ll have redeemed yourself of being a Weasley.”
“I’m glad I have your approval,” she said less than enthusiastically.
“I didn’t say that. And that still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here.”
“If I remember right, someone was too preoccupied with shagging and Harry’s misery to let me finish.” She smiled at him with a false sweetness, but he merely glared until she continued. “I thought that, since Gryffindor hasn’t got a Seeker, I’d try out.”
To her disgust, he only snickered. “YOU? So there’ll be TWO Weasleys on the Gryffindor team?”
“What’s wrong with that, Malfoy?” she asked coldly, and seeing her glare only made him laugh more. “As far as I’m concerned, we’ll still have a better chance than the Slytherin team - at winning the Quidditch Cup or getting shagged.”
Draco suddenly found the situation less amusing. “Please, Weasley. What do you know about either one of those subjects?”
She came forward, so close to him that it startled him, though he did nothing but quirk an eyebrow at her. “Well, one of them we can clear up right now,” she purred. In an instant, she’d snatched the Snitch from his hand and was smirking at him in a way that would make any Slytherin proud. “And the shagging you’ll never know about.”
“What are you on about, Weasel?”
“A little competition,” she said, letting go of the Snitch. The little golden ball circled his head in quite a fury before buzzing out the door and disappearing into the night. “If I win, you’ll be in Gryffindor colors to cheer my on at my next match.”
“And if I win?”
She smiled up at him, clearly demonstrating her faith that that would never happen when she promptly turned her back on him and walked out the door after the Snitch, broomstick in hand.
“All right,” he said, picking up his broomstick and following her, “if I win, you play your next match topless.”
She paused to glare back at him.
“No? That’s all right, a private show would be more… interesting, anyway.” He smirked at her, adding, “I’ll take your less than murderous reaction as a yes, then.” With that, he’d mounted his broomstick and kicked off before she was quite ready.
“It’s nice to see you’re not holding back, Malfoy. I’d hate to have you go easy on me and miss out on those brilliant Slytherin strategies of yours.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Weasley.”
“I never realized you wanted to see me topless so badly.”
He faltered just enough for her to catch up to him, grinning as they soared upward side by side.
The two circled each other, trading insults and feinting for the Snitch, but it was a while before the golden sphere was actually spotted. The second Draco caught sight of it circling the lowest goal post, he knew Ginny had seen it as well, and he didn’t hesitate to shove against her on his way to catch it. The Snitch fluttered off to the left, which favored Ginny, but Draco flattened himself on him broomstick, a streak of green and silver, and soon he had caught up to her, his hand reaching out for the Snitch at the same moment hers did. He stretched, using his height and longer limbs to his advantage. His hand closed over the small golden ball…
… and her fingers.
“Let go, Malfoy!” Ginny spat, steering their mangled mess of broomsticks upward just in time to avoid crashing into the stands.
“Me? I got it first,” he protested, marveling as how he’d ended up flying along underneath her, their arms extended before them, each with a tight grip on the Snitch. When he glared up at her, his nose nearly brushed hers, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she’d managed this on purpose. “You let go.”
“No, you - ” and she had to stop to maneuver once again around the goal posts. “This is ridiculous.”
“You’re right,” he conceded. Her little grin of triumph soon disappeared when he added, “I should be on top.” With a jerk, he forced her beneath him, his grip on the Snitch not loosening a bit.
She glared fiercely at him, her free hand now clutching the back of his uniform to keep herself from falling. “I’ve never seen you play this way with Harry,” she accused.
He smirked, noting how breathless she sounded. “Harry doesn’t appreciate my… Slytherin qualities.”
“Well, neither do I.”
He grinned down at her, seeing her face pale in the moonlight but for a smattering of freckles and her darkly glinting eyes. “Yes, you do.”
“No. I. Don’t.” Each syllable was punctuated by her legs wrapping around him. It took a moment for the shock to clear and Draco to realize that she was pushing off him to get closer to the Snitch. He quickly caught her shoulder, pulling her back down so that they were once again face-to-face.
“Yes. You do.”
Any protest she might have had was smothered in a kiss as his lips closed wolfishly over hers. At first she struggled in protest, swatting at him with her free hand, but either he managed to convince her with certain “Slytherin qualities” of his, or she realized that this was a good way to fall and break her neck, because she soon settled against him. His tongue parted her lips, and she gasped softly. He felt her grip tighten on him…
… but her grip on the Snitch loosened considerably.
Draco couldn’t help laughing into the kiss, even as he wrested the Snitch from her grasp. She gasped again, but whether it was because she’d realized what he’d done or because her violent reaction nearly made her fall, he wasn’t sure.
“You bastard!”
Still laughing, he managed to land on his feet, broomstick in hand, while she ended up in an ungraceful heap of red hair and freckles at his feet. He grinned down at her as he stepped around her. “Looks like you need that practice, Weasley,” he called back to her as he swaggered back into the locker rooms. “Be sure and let me know next time you come out. I’ll be here to collect on my bet.”
Whatever her strangled reply was, he was sure it was not flattering, and left her scrambling to her feet, still smirking to himself. He’d never thought that a Weasley would be all he needed to rid him of his bad mood.
It was easy when there was no one else around. When there was no team with all their expectations weighing him down, he could fly with all the grace of something born to the air. When there was no Potter, he could catch the Snitch as if it were all that was keeping him breathing.
But catching the Snitch alone in the dark didn’t mean anything.
He landed smoothly, the Snitch still struggling in his left palm, and crossed the pitch to the locker rooms. It would be past curfew soon, but he was in no hurry to change out of his Quidditch robes. No, that wasn’t it. He just wasn’t in any hurry to return to a common room restless with their loss.
His loss…
He kicked the bench so hard that it clattered into another, filling his ears with the angry sound. It hadn’t made him feel any better, and was only made worse when he heard a surprised voice from behind him.
“Malfoy?”
“Weasel,” he said harshly, turning around to find the Weasley girl looking at him with just a hint of apprehension. “Just the last species I wanted to see.”
“Well, running into a ferret wasn’t exactly high on my list of Dreams Come True. Even if he is an Amazing Bouncing one,” she added with a grin, which signaled that she obviously thought she was being funny. Her Gryffindor sense of humor did little to lighten his mood - although admittedly no joke about his experience with Professor Moody the year before was likely to make him laugh, no matter what house the speaker was from.
“What are you doing in the Slytherin locker rooms, anyway?” he demanded, hoping against hope that she would just leave.
“I was just coming out to get in some practice when I heard an awful noise in here.”
“You should be more careful. You might have walked in on one of our players getting shagged.”
Ginny laughed. “Like any of your team ever gets sha - ” She dropped off quickly, seeing the dark expression he shot at her, and seemed unsure of what to say next.
He was quiet for a moment himself, before asking, “What are you practicing for, anyway?”
She still looked a bit shocked. “You mean you haven’t heard?”
He cast his eyes up. “Yes, Weasel. I know everything. I’m just testing you.”
“Well, that awful Professor Umbridge has banned Harry, Fred and George from the team, and - ”
Once again he cut her off, his stormy gray eyes lit up as they caught hers. “Potter got kicked off the team?”
“Yeah.”
“Potter? As in the Boy Who Lived to Give Slytherins a Bad Name? Harry Potter is no longer playing Quidditch?”
“No, and I’ll be sure to let him know how sympathetic you were about it.”
“Potter can have my sympathy when I have his. As for you,” and he couldn’t help smirking at her in his delight, “a few more statements like that, and you’ll have redeemed yourself of being a Weasley.”
“I’m glad I have your approval,” she said less than enthusiastically.
“I didn’t say that. And that still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here.”
“If I remember right, someone was too preoccupied with shagging and Harry’s misery to let me finish.” She smiled at him with a false sweetness, but he merely glared until she continued. “I thought that, since Gryffindor hasn’t got a Seeker, I’d try out.”
To her disgust, he only snickered. “YOU? So there’ll be TWO Weasleys on the Gryffindor team?”
“What’s wrong with that, Malfoy?” she asked coldly, and seeing her glare only made him laugh more. “As far as I’m concerned, we’ll still have a better chance than the Slytherin team - at winning the Quidditch Cup or getting shagged.”
Draco suddenly found the situation less amusing. “Please, Weasley. What do you know about either one of those subjects?”
She came forward, so close to him that it startled him, though he did nothing but quirk an eyebrow at her. “Well, one of them we can clear up right now,” she purred. In an instant, she’d snatched the Snitch from his hand and was smirking at him in a way that would make any Slytherin proud. “And the shagging you’ll never know about.”
“What are you on about, Weasel?”
“A little competition,” she said, letting go of the Snitch. The little golden ball circled his head in quite a fury before buzzing out the door and disappearing into the night. “If I win, you’ll be in Gryffindor colors to cheer my on at my next match.”
“And if I win?”
She smiled up at him, clearly demonstrating her faith that that would never happen when she promptly turned her back on him and walked out the door after the Snitch, broomstick in hand.
“All right,” he said, picking up his broomstick and following her, “if I win, you play your next match topless.”
She paused to glare back at him.
“No? That’s all right, a private show would be more… interesting, anyway.” He smirked at her, adding, “I’ll take your less than murderous reaction as a yes, then.” With that, he’d mounted his broomstick and kicked off before she was quite ready.
“It’s nice to see you’re not holding back, Malfoy. I’d hate to have you go easy on me and miss out on those brilliant Slytherin strategies of yours.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Weasley.”
“I never realized you wanted to see me topless so badly.”
He faltered just enough for her to catch up to him, grinning as they soared upward side by side.
The two circled each other, trading insults and feinting for the Snitch, but it was a while before the golden sphere was actually spotted. The second Draco caught sight of it circling the lowest goal post, he knew Ginny had seen it as well, and he didn’t hesitate to shove against her on his way to catch it. The Snitch fluttered off to the left, which favored Ginny, but Draco flattened himself on him broomstick, a streak of green and silver, and soon he had caught up to her, his hand reaching out for the Snitch at the same moment hers did. He stretched, using his height and longer limbs to his advantage. His hand closed over the small golden ball…
… and her fingers.
“Let go, Malfoy!” Ginny spat, steering their mangled mess of broomsticks upward just in time to avoid crashing into the stands.
“Me? I got it first,” he protested, marveling as how he’d ended up flying along underneath her, their arms extended before them, each with a tight grip on the Snitch. When he glared up at her, his nose nearly brushed hers, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she’d managed this on purpose. “You let go.”
“No, you - ” and she had to stop to maneuver once again around the goal posts. “This is ridiculous.”
“You’re right,” he conceded. Her little grin of triumph soon disappeared when he added, “I should be on top.” With a jerk, he forced her beneath him, his grip on the Snitch not loosening a bit.
She glared fiercely at him, her free hand now clutching the back of his uniform to keep herself from falling. “I’ve never seen you play this way with Harry,” she accused.
He smirked, noting how breathless she sounded. “Harry doesn’t appreciate my… Slytherin qualities.”
“Well, neither do I.”
He grinned down at her, seeing her face pale in the moonlight but for a smattering of freckles and her darkly glinting eyes. “Yes, you do.”
“No. I. Don’t.” Each syllable was punctuated by her legs wrapping around him. It took a moment for the shock to clear and Draco to realize that she was pushing off him to get closer to the Snitch. He quickly caught her shoulder, pulling her back down so that they were once again face-to-face.
“Yes. You do.”
Any protest she might have had was smothered in a kiss as his lips closed wolfishly over hers. At first she struggled in protest, swatting at him with her free hand, but either he managed to convince her with certain “Slytherin qualities” of his, or she realized that this was a good way to fall and break her neck, because she soon settled against him. His tongue parted her lips, and she gasped softly. He felt her grip tighten on him…
… but her grip on the Snitch loosened considerably.
Draco couldn’t help laughing into the kiss, even as he wrested the Snitch from her grasp. She gasped again, but whether it was because she’d realized what he’d done or because her violent reaction nearly made her fall, he wasn’t sure.
“You bastard!”
Still laughing, he managed to land on his feet, broomstick in hand, while she ended up in an ungraceful heap of red hair and freckles at his feet. He grinned down at her as he stepped around her. “Looks like you need that practice, Weasley,” he called back to her as he swaggered back into the locker rooms. “Be sure and let me know next time you come out. I’ll be here to collect on my bet.”
Whatever her strangled reply was, he was sure it was not flattering, and left her scrambling to her feet, still smirking to himself. He’d never thought that a Weasley would be all he needed to rid him of his bad mood.