Learn to Love » Draco Malfoy x Reader

VII

I couldn't figure why I bother listening to anything Theo says, but especially when it comes to quidditch.

Just like the Hogsmeade trip, he had somehow coerced me into coming to watch him in the first match of the season.

He kind of sucked.

Well, to be completely fair, he wasn't the only one who sucked. But he certainly contributed to the team's overall lack of success. Theo, along with fellow chasers Adrian Pucey and Marcus Flint, were struggling, to say the least.

They'd only scored three goals each, totaling thirty points, since the start of the game, while the Hufflepuff chasers had already scored a whopping eighty. Each of our chasers only made one goal each; they'd been rusty since the start of the season.

I was sitting up with Daphne in our house's green stands, watching from high above the ground. Heights usually made me sick, but I had casted a spell before the game to wash away any nausea.

I didn't like going to quidditch games at the best of times, but this was certainly one of the worse times.

Many of the players zipped by the stands so quickly I could hardly make out who they even were. Quick whooshes of air signaled that someone had flown by, but by the time I noticed, they were long gone and chasing some other player or barreling toward the hoops.

If anything was to be said about Slytherin house, they hated losing.  Unfortunately, that meant my eardrums were likely to be blown out by my fellow peers hollering as loud as they could.  Some were yelling at certain players, others just shouting out indistinct upset noises.

I vaguely made out certain phrases like "Slytherin's the best!" and "catch the snitch!", the likes of which I tried to tune out and just focus on the game.

"Malfoy's actually doing pretty well!" Daphne shouted close to my ear, trying to let herself be heard above the angry noises of our housemates spectating.

My focus, which was shifting rapidly between Theo and Cedric, changed course and landed on Draco, who was inching closer and closer to the snitch.

He was sweated out, his easily-noticeable platinum hair slick with perspiration but being largely unnoticed as he dashed by, his speed making it blow behind him. One of Draco's long, slender arms was outstretched as he desperately tried to push his fingertips closer to the snitch that seemed to be getting nearer to his area of reach.

My vision started to blur as I watched him zip around the field, but I refocused so that the only thing on my mind was Draco.

"At least he's good for something," I retorted back to Daphne, my gaze fixated on our seeker.

It seemed as if Draco's struggling would soon be realized by catching the snitch, but when his hand was within just a few inches of the small winged ball, the figure of Cedric Diggory rose up next to him, equally determined to catch it.

Cedric had been doing presumably better up until a few moments ago in the game. All during the match, he seemed as if he was closer to the snitch, but thanks to an aggressive bludger shot at him by Lucian Bole on Slytherin, he was almost knocked clear off his broom, giving Draco the advantage for a short while. However, Cedric was simply too good. He regained his composure, mid-air, and somehow got back on his broom and caught up to Draco again.

The snitch darted down toward the ground, which sent both Draco and Cedric to dive after it. The two looked like parallels of each other, just desperately trying to be the one that caught it as it flitted its wings in a quick descent. The only noticeable difference between them, besides their house colors, was the way that Draco looked connivingly determined to win while Cedric seemed simply focused on himself.