Saving Myself || A Drarry Story

LIV: The Championship Match

Quidditch was always a way for Harry to have fun and to unwind. With the wind in his hair and his Quidditch robes snapping and his eyes itching to find the Snitch made his adrenaline pump with vigour.

On the day of the championship Quidditch match, Harry didn't say much to Draco. He pretended as if they were never more than casual friends. But, then again, they had never been friends before they were kissing every which way. The two of them had skipped that step entirely and went straight from enemies to fuck-buddies.

It was nearly four o'clock when Marcus Long said to Harry, "We need to go and get ready. Bring your A-game, Harry."

Harry nodded, his insides churning. As he changed into his Quidditch robes, Harry felt as if he wanted to throw up, he was that nervous. While Long gave his usual pre-game speech, Harry thought about how he could win. A few fake-outs? Some twisting and turning broom work?

When he heard Lovegood's voice calling out the names if the Gryffindor Quidditch team ("Nott, he's very nice. Gave me flowers on Valentines Day." There was laughter from the crowd. "Malfoy. Oh, he's Harry Potter's boyfriend. I wonder how that's going to play out.")

"Harry, " Long snapped his fingers in front of Harry's green face. "Get your head in the game. If you don't play well, there's no way we can win."

"Bulgaria caught the Snitch a few years ago against Ireland and Ireland still won, " Harry growled under his breath.

Long let out a breath. "I don't care about what happened three years ago. We have to win now. And I don't want your feelings for Malfoy to interfere with our chance at winning the Cup."

Harry nodded and said, "I won't let them."

"Good, " Marcus concluded, clapping his hands together. He grabbed his Beater's club and his broomstick and said to the rest of the team, "Let's go and win this thing."

There was almost no sun that afternoon, just a load of greying clouds and loads of red flags with only the Slytherin section waving their green flags. The Gryffindor players we're whispering to each other in a tight knot as the Slytherins sauntered out onto the pitch, broomstick's slung over their shoulders and cocky smirks on their faces.

Harry wasn't smirking. He was scowling and heard Loony Lovegood saying, "Harry Potter looks as if he's going to murder someone."

With a unison nod, the Gryffindor team separated, taking their places with Draco in the middle.

"Come round, " Marcus Long told them all. He said in a quiet but powerful voice, "Half of us are going to be gone next year. So, that means that we have to get the Snitch. And you Chasers need to rack up as many points as possible. Smith and I are going to go hard on those Bludgers, so avoid them. Cloven, keep the Quaffle out of the posts."

Madam Hooch blew her whistle, announcing that the Captains were to shake hands. Harry looked behind him, a mistake; the crowd was quiet, waiting for the Slytherins.

"C'mon, now, " Long said, holding his hand out, palm down. "Come on."

One by one, position by position, the Slytherin teammates each put their hand over the others until Harry was the last one.

"Come on, Harry, "

With a silent nod, his hand went onto the pile and, with a whisper of encouragement, Long told them to get in line. They did so, Harry clenching his jaw as he stood in front of a fourth-year Gryffindor Chaser, his mousy blonde hair falling into his eyes.

Harry saw Long shake Draco's hand, the blonde saying, "Good luck." Long didn't return it.

"They're off, " sang Luna as Madam Hooch blew her whistle and all fourteen players flew into the air. Draco soared high above the pitch, watching as his team of seven years played their best, seizing the Quaffle, dodging Bludgers, defending the posts. From the corner of his eye, he saw Harry searching for the Snitch, swearing when Luna announced, "Thirty--ten, Gryffindor!"

"Doing alright there, Harry?" Draco called.

"Piss off, " Harry replied.

"Comfortable on that broomstick, are you?"

"Shut up!" Harry shouted, his cheeks blazing.

"Harry!" Marcus Long shouted as he hit a Bludger at Katie Bell, a sixth-year Gryffindor. He missed by a mile, almost hitting one of his Chasers. "Don't pay him any mind! Get the S---"

"I KNOW!" Harry exploded, speeding away from Draco as he continued his search.

Draco's grey eyes followed him for a little while longer before returning to the game, almost laughing when his eyes caught a glint of gold. He rushed off in the direction, but Harry blocked him and the gold was gone.

"What the---"

Harry interrupted, a smirk on his devilish face, "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I cut you off?"

Draco huffed and went back to his search for the Snitch, hearing Harry shout at the Chasers to Stop mucking about when Luna announced the score ("One hundred--seventy, Gryffindor!").

Harry's back was turned away from Draco and didn't notice him rush past until he heard Long shouting and a cheer from the stands where the rest of the Hogwarts students were.

Harry turned just to have Draco crash into him, an Oofm sound leaving his chest as his fingers curled around the walnut-sized ball and both boys tumbled out of the sky, landing in a heap.

"Get the hell off of me!" Harry growled.

Draco jumped up, not having time to help Harry before his team lifted him onto their shoulders with Luna saying, "Gryffindor wins the Quidditch Cup again! Seven years in a row!"

Long was furious, telling Harry, "It was right next to you! How could you not see it?!"

Harry picked up his broom, only to throw it down again, his anger raw and terrible. He had lost again to Saint Malfoy, the Boy Who Always Succeeded.

"Party in the Gryffindor common room!" he heard Blaise say.

There was a brief moment where Harry stood alone, his anger festering until a hand was on his shoulder. He turned, seeing Draco with that wide, white smile of his and his grey-blue eyes dancing as he asked, "Want to come with me? I'd hate to leave you alone."

Harry shook his head but said, "Alright. What could it hurt?"

Draco grinned again and gave Harry a quick peck on the cheek before sliding his right arm over the smaller boy's shoulders, whispering, "Wonderful game, love."

"Thanks, " Harry said acidly, scrunching his face up.

"Come off it, " Draco laughed. "You're so sour."

"You cheated somehow, " Harry said, "I know you did."

Draco rolled his eyes lovingly. "You're absolutely right. I cheated. That's the only way I won and you lost."

"Sounds right, " Harry smiled sheepishly. "That's right."

Draco said once they made it to the crowd of Gryffindor players and after Harry received a few odd looks, "He's with me. Start something and he'll bite."

"I don't bite."

"Then you'll . . .throw a tantrum."

"I do not do that!"

"Sure you don't, " said Draco. "And I don't win Quidditch cups."

Harry hit his arm and the Gryffindor players laughed, making him blush a bit. "Whatever, "

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