Drarry Smut

Drarry- orphan_account (6)

(6144 words)

The moment Harry's fingers encased the Golden Snitch within his hand, the piercing screech of a whistle blew across the pitch, bringing an end to the Gryffindor Quidditch Team's practise for the day.
Every member was relieved to know the last hour and a half had finally come to an end after their plan had crumbled towards the beginning, leaving many of the members dishevelled and covered in dirt, red marks and bruises making themselves present among their skin. They made their way down to the pitch below, eager to be dismissed by their Captain to head back to the Changing Rooms and clean up after their embarrassing display.

Harry slowly descended to the ground with the others, the Golden Snitch resting in his palm retracting it's wings back within it's self, the soft vibrations emitting from it dying down. Hair clung to his forehead in a mixture of sweat and water, a light drizzle of rain beginning its course for the second time since practise had begun. Their recently appointed Captain, Angelina, landed with the same look of exhaustion on her face as the others, a disgruntled sigh leaving her throat as she wiped the sweat pooled on her forehead with the back of her hand.

"Okay, let's stop here for today. We'll pick this back up in our next practice. Make sure you're prepared cause it will be our last practice before the game. And remember, we need to be on guard at all times against Slytherin if we want to win, so don't get distracted by their ridiculous taunts in the corridors or on the pitch," Angelina pinched her brow as jeers interrupted her speech from the stands, a group of Slytherins pointing and laughing at the state of the Gryffindors. They had been here since the very start, causing constant distractions to everyone on the pitch throughout the trial, trying to sabotage any progression that was made, succeeding that goal. Glares from the team were sent their way yet before any arguments could break out, Angelina addressed the group once more with clenched teeth, evidently annoyed at the unwelcomed guests. "You're free to go."

There were a number of solemn expressions as Angelina's words sunk in, everyone on the team dreading the next few days leading up to the big game. Days that would no doubt be met with sneers and attempted hexes by anyone in the snake house. Any Gryffindor would have a target on their back for sure. No one was happy to play against Slytherin, not when they used such rough and unfair tactics to climb their way up the leader board every year, leaving gashes and bruises on everyone donned in red, yellow or blue. Yet, with rivalry so strong between Gryffindor and Slytherin, it was always anticipated by students and even the teachers that such a tremendous game was about to play for all eyes to see. No matter how brutal it was, everyone was buzzing to watch the show. However, Harry, for the first time in his life, wished he was a spectator rather than a player, not as determined as he usually was when it came to Quidditch. Sure, he'd never been excited to play against Slytherin in all the years he'd been on the team but, even then he was still eager to hop on his broom and give his best. This was one of the reasons Hogwarts made him feel safe and at home, being able to play a game he held dear to his heart. Something he couldn't dare do back at the Dursleys. But, with the constant thoughts that'd been swarming him since the beginning of the year: Voldemort, the Order of The Phoenix, the Ministry, Umbridge, Dumbledore, Draco, everything he tried desperately to supress, it was affecting everything he took an interest in, lacking the enjoyment he once had for his hobbies. He hated to admit it but, Quidditch didn't feel as exciting anymore, just another "game" as Hermione had once said.

"Harry, can you come and help me pack up these Bludgers? There's no way I can do this on my own." Harry glanced at Angelina, noting he was the only one left behind with his Captain as the others had rushed off the moment she had let them go. Despite his tired state, he was glad for a distraction from his wandering mind and jogged over to her, the chest where the balls resided wide open as she stuffed the Quaffle back in its place. Placing the shiny Snitch back within the box, Harry remounted his broom, heading in the direction of one of the Bludgers still loose in the air. The ball zoomed across the sky, zipping by as it played it's game of cat and mouse, coming incredibly close to slamming into the wooden stands a few times. Harry's Firebolt gave no room to breathe as it closed in on it's target, the tip of the handle centimetres away from the rouge ball.
Reaching out his arm, Harry's fingers skimmed the side of the sphere, clutching the object with a firm grip as it continued to try and escape him. Harry was tugged along up his broom as the ball tried to yank itself out of his hand, spinning him in directions similar to that of a roller coaster to shake him off it's trail. He managed to tackle the ball with both hands, squeezing his thighs together to keep from slipping off his broom, eventually able to put the restraining ball to rest under his arm, manoeuvring his way back to Angelina who was struggling to catch the other Bludger hovering above the floor.