☤ Pseudonym ☤

~Chapter Eleven~

The evening air nipped at my fingers, making me wish I had gloves on. I hovered several metres above the ground as Angelina spoke authoritatively at Ron, with Fred and George seeing who could hit the other with the Quaffle. Harry and Alicia made small talk while waiting for Angelina to start the practice. 

Out of the corner of my eye I could see a group of green-tied students taking their seats halfway up the stand. I groaned to myself; why did Malfoy have to cause such trouble. I hadn't spoken to my half-brother since the beginning of term by the train. He looked a little better than he had then; I think space from his parents was doing him good. However, the company he replaced them with was not much better. Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson all guffawed as he mocked the broom Ron was riding. 

"Hey, Johnson, what's with that hairstyle, anyway?" shrieked Pansy Parkinson from below. "Why would anyone want to look like they've got worms coming out of their head?"

Angelina swept her long braided hair out of her face and continued calmly, "Spread out, then, and let's see what we can do ..." 

Harry reversed away from us to the far side of the pitch. Ron fell back towards the opposite goal. Angelina raised the Quaffle with one hand and threw it hard to Fred, who passed to George, who passed to Harry, who passed to Ron, who dropped it.

The Slytherins, led by Malfoy, roared and screamed with laughter. Ron, who had pelted towards the ground to catch the Quaffle before it landed, pulled out of the dive untidily, so that he slipped sideways on his broom, and returned to playing height, blushing. I saw Fred and George exchange looks, but uncharacteristically neither of them said anything, for which I was grateful.

"Pass it on, Ron," called Angelina, as though nothing had happened.

As Ron threw the Quaffle to me, I heard Pansy's irritating voice pipe up again. "Oh look who it is; the Dark Lord's little bastard daughter!" she jeered. I gripped my broom tightle in anger. I saw Draco elbow her and whisper something angrily in her ear, shaking his head. Her face screwed up and glared furiously up at me. 

"Hey, Potter, how's your scar feeling?" called Malfoy. "Sure you don't need a lie down? It must be, what, a whole week since you were in the hospital wing, that's a record for you, isn't it?"

I'm sure he trying to draw the attention away from me, but I didn't appreciate his unnecessary jab at Harry. 

The rest of practice went even less smoothly as Ron gave Katie Bell a bloody nose with his severe lack of coordination. Fred then proceeded to give her a 'Blood Blisterpod', resulting in her needing a trip to the hospital wing. 

With no beaters and chaser gone, Angelina relented and told us to go and change. 

As the team filed off towards the changing rooms, I dismounted my broom and jogged to catch up to Draco. I tapped his shoulder and he turned to face me, a small amount of surprise on his face. He told the rest of his posse to leave and they obeyed immediately, even Pansy despite a sour expression on her face. 

I lead him to the bottom of the stands and we sat down. 

"How's it going, Draco?" I asked, placing my broom and the bench beside me. 

He shrugged. "Okay, I guess. Father asks about you in every letter." he said in a tired voice.

"And what do you say?" 

"I tell him as little as I can get away with."

"All good things I hope." I joked. Draco let out a half hearted laugh and look down at his feet. "I know this is hard for you. And I'm sorry for that." he blew out a long breath.