Love Bites (Harry Potter: Official Dragon Tamer, Part One)

Round Two

Tuesday Evening
14 July 2009
Harry's POV

It was the weekend, my weekend, anyhow, and I was swiping my way through Grindr, looking to release some stress following the heinous practice schedule McLeod had adopted following our narrow win over the Falmouth Falcons week prior.

Campbell and McFarlan, two of our Chasers, had enjoyed themselves quite a bit the night before the match, and it showed. They were sluggish and dropped the Quaffle entirely too many times, leaving Wood (yes, that Wood, still my team Captain, and still as fanatical as ever) trying to defend our hoops against what must have been hundreds of shots fired by the three Falcon Chasers.

They scored seventeen goals in the first thirty minutes alone. 

Seventeen.

I cringed again at the thought. The match had dragged on, with me purposely evading the goddamned Snitch and either trying to lead their Seeker, Michael Johnson, away from it or else chasing him as he streaked after the tiny golden target and making sure I got in the way to keep him from catching it.

The damned Snitch itself seemed to have gotten bored, maybe even a little confused, as to why I kept flying towards it and not catching it that it took off for a bloody three hours.

At least that gave Robins, our reserve Seeker, a good hour to fly around the pitch and experience the game a bit.

He was new.

Our reserve Seeker was always new because, well, Coach never really played them with me around. The Magpies had become a sort of unofficial training camp for young Seekers looking for some hands-on experience and the resume-boosting fact of having played for the Magpies before heading off to snag their own spots on other teams around the world, becoming Quidditch coaches at one of the various wizarding schools, offering private flying lessons, or any number of jobs out there benefitting from them casually mentioning how they'd trained alongside the great Harry Potter.

By the time I was back on my broom and glimpsed the Snitch again, we'd finally caught up the gap, 260-120, and I dived, catching the Snitch, Johnson crashing to the ground behind me, splintering his broom, sliding about six metres along the pitch, tearing himself up spectacularly, limbs bent at odd angles indicating several broken bones.

Idiot. As though he could've caught me.

Don't get me wrong, there were a lot of excellent Seekers out there who could've kept up and possibly grabbed the Snitch before I had. 

Johnson just wasn't one of them.

McLeod had been furious and, as a result, we'd spent the past week putting in extra hours, upping our training schedule, and practising plays until even I could have filled in for one of our Chasers or Beaters with my eyes closed.

I was ready for my days off and some fun, to say the least.

Problem was, I wasn't finding anything – anyone, rather, who was piquing my interest.

I'd been quite active on Grindr the past few weeks and, usually, enjoyed myself.

Thing was, I kept thinking back to Malfoy.

Merlin, that had been some amazing sex.

When we'd parted, I'd told him it'd be a couple of months and that I wouldn't be a Gryffindor, whatever the hell that meant.

It'd been just over a month. Would Malfoy be game?

What the hell, I told myself, pulling up the screen with my last chat from Malfoy.