The Slytherin’s weren’t bad on brooms. They had good technique. Just blundering buffoons in the air. Nothing special. Harry’s eyes wandered to Malfoy again and he couldn’t stop the pang of jealousy in his chest.
The bleached blond head was doing something totally different from the rest. Of course Draco had more of an aerodynamic build. Lithe. Agile. Harry noticed how Draco was different in practice than he was on the field. He was better. Yes, definitely better. It was almost like he never meant to win when he was playing the other houses, well, he never
actually won when he played Harry, it just sort of happened.
Then there was Ginny. Proud and angry with someone who probably didn’t deserve it. She was standing in the middle of the quidditch pitch like she owned it. Maybe that’s why they’re damn ‘relationship’ didn’t ‘work’. Or so says Harry’s therapist anyway. After all that happened last year most of the kids in Hogwarts were in therapy. Rumor has it Draco can’t keep a therapist. Dumbledore keeps jumping him from house to house to house to try to find a therapist that’s ‘right’ for him. He’s already been cycled twice. Rumor has it.
“Ginny, they’re not listening to you.” Harry pointed out helpfully.
The crazy girl whirled on him. “Shut up.” Her back was towards Harry again and she started yelling at the Slytherin team captain.
“STOP PRETENDING NOT TO HEAR ME!”
“I KNOW YOU CAN!”
“ASSHAT, YA, YOU! ANSWER ME! YOU SON OF A B---”
“Ginny, leave it alone, we’ll come back later, they’re practicing.” Harry was right behind her with his hand on her shoulder. She was just being ridiculous now.
“Harry, it’s
important, don’t you understand?”
Harry felt like the entire world was being thrust upon his shoulders. “I’m sure they’re almost done Ginny, just give them time to finish up, shower, and slow down. If you talk to them now they’ll be hyped up on adrenaline that you won’t be able to get a word out before one of them hits you in the face.” She whirled back around and started yelling at the poor soul who was the team captain.
Well, he tried. He tried to turn in the graceful manner Ginny did and ended up almost taking a face plant in the mud. Ron came up in front of him but made no inclination to get him back on his feet.
“What’s her problem?” He kept staring as Harry straightened out his glasses.
“The norm. It’s nothing out of the usual.”
“I think I’m seeing things, like abnormal things. You know, things that one doesn’t normally hallucinate.” Blaise was still a little stunned from being pulled in and out of random staircases and portrait doors. “The only person who’s ever known as much as you about the secret passageways in this castle was the poor bloke who built it.” Draco pulled Blaise by the sleeve through the dungeon corridors, weaving through cells Blaise was sure were used for student detention/torture in the early fifteenth century. “What’s the hurry, or was I falsely under the impression that
we were the only ones who knew about this?”
“Change of plans, apparently Granger has been fascinated with the lavish décor we left here the last time we decided to play games with the Death Eaters.” Draco huffed to a stop in front of a rather ordinary-looking wall and clutched a stitch in his side. “We have to do something. Right now.”
“You mean, like, clean? Right?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, you better hurry up, apparently there’s a Gryffindor in the Slytherine common room who’s vying for your attention. We can’t be gone too long.”
“Granger?”
“I don’t know, can we just clean?” Blaise looked anxious. “Please, I don’t want to be caught, especially if it is Granger.”
Ginny was SMOLDERING.
No, it was worse than that. She was on FIRE. Like FIRE, FIRE. Not just fire, plain and simple, she was giving the saying ‘hot as hell’ a run for it’s money, because hell couldn’t handle what Harry was witnessing.
“Where is he?” She asked him.
“Malfoy? Beats me.”
After a while on the Quidditch pitch the captain had actually come down and threatened Dumbledore’s wrath upon them and told them to wait outside the Slytherine dorms. Of course that hadn’t gone over well with Ginny, whom Harry thought was handling the dismissal with grace until she punched some first year in green robes and told him to tell her where the common room was and what the password was. That’s how they got here.
“WHERE IS MALFOY?!” She yelled at practically every Slytherine who was standing in the room.
“Right here, bitch. What do you want?” The blonde sauntered into the room looking very Mafia-leader with his right hand man on his left side and his wand hanging loosely in his other hand.
Which was weird, ‘cause Harry could have sworn Draco was left-handed.
“What,” Ginny said in a huff. “Are you doing to Hermione.”
Draco smiled leisurely. “Nothing she hasn’t begged for.”
Ginny stormed out of the room followed closely by Harry.
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