WILD FLOWERS ✿ d.malfoy

44.

"It's time," Montague says curtly, "Good luck everyone." We walk out the changing room, as I try to stabilize my breathing. In and out. In and out. In and out.

We were standing in the pitch, my heart still racing. Standing a foot or so behind Montague, I grip my broom tightly and narrow my eyes at Johnson, feeling a hot boiling sensation take over the knot in my stomach. Hopefully, rage will be enough to win this match. Ron, on the other hand, looks like he is bathing in cold sweat. I shake my head; he is the opponent now.

"Captains shake hands," Madam Hooch orders. Montague shakes Johnson's hand firmly. "Mount your brooms..."

A pregnant silence hung over the whole pitch as Madam Hoonch carefully placed the whistle in her mouth and blew it.

Without a second of hesitation, I zoom upwards and catch the Quaffle heading towards the goal posts, Pucey and Montague hot on my tail. The nervousness is not forgotten replaced by great zeal and a desire to win. Lee Jordan's voice booms through the pitch.

"And it's Morgana! Slytherin's new chaser. Morgana in possession of the Quaffle zooming towards the goals post — she narrowly misses a bludger. She is — passes the Quaffle to Montague — Montague to Pucey—"

I zigzag between the Gryffindor chasers, my eyes set on Pucey. He looks at me and then looks forward. I zoom ahead just as he throws the Quaffle in front of him; Johnson tried to catch it, but I was faster.

"— and back to Morgana. She heads towards the goal post, ready to score — "

Using my classic trick, I hurl the Quaffle forward with all my might and feel satisfied as it zooms through the middle hoop and Ron fumbles.

"She scores! Ten points to Slytherin." There is an uproar of cheer from the Slytherins. I smirk and turn around.

Angelina Johnson has the Quaffle and it appears that me and Pucey have the same idea as we close in on her.

"Pucey and Morgana closing in on Johnson — oh no! Johnson lets go of the Quaffle as the two Slytherin chaser catch her in a full body blow — Quaffle in possession of Alicia — zooming forward and she — SHE SHOOTS— ahh..."

Bletchley passes the Quaffle to Pucey, who whooshes towards the other end of the pitch. I follow close by his side and avoid a bludger by doing a sloth grip roll. Phew. Unfortunately, the Quaffle falls into the hand of Johnson. Pucey and Montague close in on her as she passes the Quaffle to Alicia. Before the Quaffle has a chance to reach Spinnet, I've swerved my broom and –

"MORGANA SCORES! SHE USED THE FINBOURGH FLICK— twenty - nil to Slytherin." I chuckle.

Montague, in possession of the Quaffle, me and Pucey fly in Hawkshead formation. Every time a chaser would try and close in on us, we would just pass the Quaffle amongst ourselves. You could say that we were having quite a cheery time. And then Montague scores.

"Thirty-nil to Slytherin!" The roars of the crowd are louder than ever and that makes me feel ecstatic suddenly.

"Katie Bell in possession of the Quaffle — narrowly misses a bludger by Goyle— close call, passes it to Angelina. Johnson passes it to Alicia — OH NO—"

I twist my broom and head for the Gryffindor goalposts, the red leather ball in my hand. I spy Angelina and Katie hot on my tail as I near the Goal posts dangerously fast. They were looking to catch me in a full body blow. I smirk and jump up, thrusting the Quaffle towards the left hoop, even as my eyes never left the right most one.

I heard the two chasers collide with a sickening crash as I land safely on my broom, smirking.

"THAT'S — THAT'S — THE CHELMONDISTON CHARGE! MORGANA SCORES ONCE MORE — FOURTY - NIL TO SLYTHERIN!" I see Montague on the other side of the pitch, looking at my proudly and giving me a thumbs up. I feel my chest expanding with joy, almost like it was filled with shimmering golden butterflies looking to escape.