Reckless Abandon (Drarry)

Chapter 24

"OK, I'm here," Draco sighed as he joined Harry on the park bench.

Harry was glad to see Draco had worn old, comfortable clothes, like he had asked. He still looked great, and Harry had a hard time resisting giving him a hello kiss. Or two.

Smirking as he got up, Harry motioned for Draco to do so as well. The blond rolled his eyes, obviously questioning why the hell he had shown up for this first date.

Grabbing Draco's wrist firmly, Harry apparated them to a green field, that looked pretty empty.

Draco gave him a questioning look. "This is it?"

"It's where the Chudley Cannons practice," Harry said, anticipation starting to grow inside him as he looked around, and then spotted a small pile of equipment. He dropped Draco's wrist and jogged over to inspect it. It had taken a few letters to get this favor from the team's owner, who he'd met at various charity events over the years.

Draco was soon at his side, looking down at the small box Harry was holding, and the equipment lying on the grass.

Harry could tell he had figured it out. "They are both old Nimbuses, just like we used at Hogwarts. Pick the one you want."

He was sure he saw a bit of a smile beginning as Draco leaned over to get a closer look at the brooms. Harry removed the snitch from the box, holding the golden ball in his loosely cupped hand.

Draco was mounting the broom he picked, and Harry got on the other one. A minute later, they were in the air, swooping around the field to test out their Nimbuses. Harry was pleased that it felt like his old one, fast and responsive. But not quite as good as his Firebolt.

"Ready?" Harry called out, and Draco turned to face him, about halfway down the field.

Even from that distance, Harry could tell by Draco's posture that he ready to give the small ball good chase. "Ready to see you lose, Potter."

His taunt brought Harry right back to their Hogwarts days, the familiar desire to one up Draco becoming his only focus. He released the snitch, and the small golden ball zipped straight upwards. He lost sight of it when it crossed in front of the sun, and Harry had to divert his eyes.

They went to Draco instead, who was flying higher with large circles around the field. He had obviously lost sight of the small fast ball as well, and was searching for it.

Harry started a similar pattern, and it reminded him so strongly of doing this during all those practices and matches. He could almost hear Oliver Wood shouting instructions to George and Fred, or hear the dull roar from the spectators.

Lost in nostalgia for a moment, Harry almost missed the second when Draco's broom changed direction sharply and he zoomed downwards across the field. Out of pure instinct, Harry followed his trajectory, his eyes searching madly for what Draco was aiming for, his heart thumping with pure adrenaline. He couldn't let Draco win.

Although Draco had started for the ball sooner, Harry was closer, and they were soon side by side, racing after the zipping streak of gold. It veered different directions without warning, and Harry cheered to himself when the ball dipped and he followed the motion faster than Draco did, pulling ahead of him. That much closer to catching it.

His satisfaction was short-lived, as the snitch zipped to the left, and Draco was now closer to it. Harry was perhaps a bit better at flying, and he was able to catch up, again flying at Draco's side.

A few minutes later, the ball went upwards, and Draco reacted faster. He slowed down, almost hovering in the air, and slowly opened his hand.

Harry had slowed as well, flying closer to Draco, and saw the look of pure pleasure on his face as he looked down at the golden ball. His silver blue eyes met Harry's, and he could only smile back in return. Giving credit where it was due. Draco had won, fair and square.