Bitter Chocolate - (A 'Veronica Weasley' sequel) || Draco Malfoy

15 - Ride

"Catch."

Draco tossed a long black broomstick at me which I caught with ease. It was a broom that I recognised very much so.

"I remember the very day I first saw this," I smirked, instantly going back to a time when I used to daydream about parading Draco's head about on the end of a sharpened stick. "Didn't your father have to buy the whole Slytherin team one too?"

"He didn't have to, it was a generous gift." Draco scowled, throwing a case, which I could only presume contained Quidditch balls, to the ground.

"Sure, whatever you say, Draco," I snorted, "Anyway, I feel honoured that you're letting me ride it. And being a Gryffindor at that."

"Weasley, you know I've certainly never had any objection to you riding my broomstick before." He drawled, his eyes glinting wickedly in mine.

The effect he had on me was instantaneous; my stomach knotted in yearning desire, and blood coursed through my veins in utter longing.

I looked away, knowing my face was giving me away, and I heard Draco chuckling softly to himself.

"Come on Weasley, let's see if you've still got it." He grinned cheekily as he mounted the second broomstick he had brought out with him. "It might be best if we have a quick ride together before I start tossing my balls at you."

"Oh my fucking god, Draco, have you just been thinking these up?! They're dreadful!"

"Well I'd like to see you come up with better," he smirked, watching me as I swung a leg over his old Nimbus Two Thousand and One.

"No it's okay, I'm twenty three." I muttered, positioning myself alongside him.

"Go careful, I know you're not used to riding such a powerful broom," he warned in all seriousness, as he leant across to patronisingly tap my hand that was gripping the broom between my legs.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I spluttered, "I used to ride Harry's Firebolt all the time. Now that was a powerful piece of wood. I'm pretty sure yours is going to feel like a fucking floppy twig in comparison." I smirked in glee as his face dropped at my words. "Oh, would you look at that? Seems I can come up with fucking better than you, Malfoy, after all."

And I gave my wickedest grin as I kicked my feet off the ground and took off up ahead of him.

"I'm going to have you for that, Weasley!" I heard him cry behind me, his words tinged with jest.

It felt so good to have the wind in my hair as I soared through the air and whipped around the trees. It had been so long since I'd flown. In fact, I realised with a trickling coldness that crept around my lungs; the last time I had been on a broomstick was when we were trying to escape the fire in the Room of Requirement.

The memory made me instinctively look back over my shoulder, wanting to assure myself of Draco's living, breathing presence.

He was there, on my tail, and I felt such a rush of relief flood through me at the sight of him that I couldn't help but let out an audible gasp.

"Ronnie?" He shouted over the wind as he drew up beside me, his face etched in concern. "What's wrong?"

"That- that night," I shouted back, knowing I didn't need to offer further explanation of which night. "I was so scared when I thought you weren't behind me."

He let go of his broom, reaching out to give my arm a comforting squeeze. "I'm right here, Ronnie."

I felt a great flood of warmth flood through my body and, in that moment - if we weren't flying on broomsticks twenty feet up in the air - I probably would not have been able to stop myself from kissing him.

We flew back to the pitch where, using his makeshift goal hoops, we took turns being Keeper, trying desperately to catch the other one out. We found our competitive edge still very much between us as old, overused childish taunts resurfaced.

"Oh look Weasley, a cardboard box!" Draco bellowed as he was about to aim the Quaffle towards me. "Better get it quick so that your family can finally get that sought after extension on that shack you call a house!"

"I DON'T EVEN FUCKING LIVE THERE ANYMORE!"

"I CAN'T BE BOTHERED TO THINK UP NEW INSULTS!"

In the end, after I kept saving goal after goal after failing to be deflected by his dated insults, he decided to try and play hands-on dirty, instead.

"DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE MALFOY, YOU CHEATING SOD!" I roared as he tried to fly past me to put the Quaffle through the hoop himself.

I grappled at him, trying to prise the ball from his hands, resorting to tickling him under his armpits.

"Weasley don't you dare, you naughty girl!" He bellowed between laughter, trying to wriggle out from under my fingers.

It was a real effort to stay on our brooms, to the point where we gave up, collapsing down on the pitch in laughter, laying on our backs under the bleak autumnal sky, not caring that the grass was cold and damp beneath us.

"It's good to see you smile again, Weasley," Draco said as he turned to me after our laughter had died down.

"And you," I murmured, my heart swelling as his silver grey eyes twinkled in mine.

He reached out a hand, intertwining our fingers together, as he continued to look deeply into my eyes.

"Don't leave me," he said with sudden fierce longing; taking me by surprise.

It took everything I had not to lean over and place my lips against his, to curl my body around his and feel his beating heart against mine.

But instead, I asked the question that needed answering. One that ran the risk of hurting me beyond measure.

"Are you still going to marry her?" I whispered, barely able to breathe as the trembling words left my lips.

I watched with an aching heart as his eyes flicked towards the Manor where I knew his parents sat; shunned from the wizarding world, except for one small window.

A window that their son could open up for them.

And when his eyes met mine again and I saw the distinct crumple of his face; I knew what his answer was before he said it.

"Yes."

I didn't even realise it was possible my heart could break anymore.

*****