Ethereal

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The Order of The Phoenix

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Sadie's eyes went wide as hope-filled her as she watched Harry dive down. He had spotted the Snitch. Malfoy was streaking out of the sky on Harry's left, a green and silver blur lying flat on his broom.

"Come on Harry," Sadie muttered. Harry pulled his Firebolt around, he and Malfoy were now neck and neck.

Feet from the ground, Harry lifted his right hand from his broom, stretching towards the Snitch and it was over in two breathless, desperate, windswept seconds, Harry's fingers closed around the tiny, struggling ball. The Gryffindor spectators screamed their approval.

"Yes Harry!" Sadie yelled, cheering for her best friend as she clapped loudly and zoomed down to him.  They were saved, it did not matter that Ron had let in those goals, nobody would remember as long as Gryffindor had won.

WHAM.

A Bludger hit Sadie squarely in the small of the back and she flew forwards off her broom. Sadie let out a blood-curdling scream as she fell from her broom. Sadie was about fifteen feet from the ground, and the time anyone got close to catch her, she had already landed flat on her back on the frozen pitch. She heard Madam Hooch's shrill whistle, an uproar in the stands compounded of catcalls, angry yells and jeering, a thud, then Angelina's frantic voice.

"Are you all right?"

"I think so," Sadie gasped, taking her hand and allowing her to pull her to her feet. Madam Hooch was zooming towards one of the Slytherin players above her, though she could not see who it was from this angle.

"Sades, you alright?" Harry asked, landing next to Sadie who nodded.

"It was that thug Crabbe," said Angelina angrily as Fred and George zoomed down next to the younger girl and made sure she was alright, "he whacked the Bludger at you the moment he saw Harry got the Snitch, but we won, Sadie, we won!"

Sadie heard a snort from behind her and turned around. Draco Malfoy had landed close by. White-faced with fury, he was still managing to sneer.

"Saved Weasley's neck, haven't you?" he said to Harry. "I've never seen a worse Keeper, but then he was born in a bin, did you like my lyrics, Bridgerton and Potter?"

Sadie and Harry didn't answer. They turned away to meet the rest of the team who were now landing one by one, yelling and punching the air in triumph. All except Ron, who had dismounted from his broom over by the goalposts and seemed to be making his way slowly back to the changing rooms alone.

"We wanted to write another couple of verses!" Malfoy called, as Katie and Sadie hugged tightly. "But we couldn't find rhymes for fat and ugly, we wanted to sing about his mother, see. . . ."

"Talk about sour grapes," said Angelina, casting Malfoy a disgusted look.

". . . .we couldn't fit in useless loser either, for his father, you know. . . ."

Fred and George had realised what Malfoy was talking about. Halfway through shaking Harry's hand, they stiffened, looking round at Malfoy.

"Leave it!" said Angelina at once, taking Fred by the arm. Sadie looked at her, narrowing her eyes slightly but a small smile grew on her face when Fred pushed her hand away. "Leave it, George, let him yell, he's just sore he lost, the jumped-up little. . . ."

". . . .but you like the Weasleys, don't you, Potter and Bridgerton?" said Malfoy, sneering. "Spend holidays there and everything, don't you? Can't see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you've been dragged up by Muggles, even the Weasleys' hovel smells OK. I expect your Mudblood mother's house smelled better than the Weasley's Potter."