-Chapter 14-

The students filed out of the castle and into the Quidditch stands, a swarm of different colours. Hermione and I held onto each other in the hopes we wouldn't get separated, and when we finally reach the entrance, I realise there's something I haven't done. I pull Hermione one side, 

"I should go and see him..."

"Harry?"

"No, er-"

"Draco?"

I nod, and she sighs impatiently. "Be quick," she smirks, "Or all the good seats will be taken." 

I roll my eyes at her and turn, running towards where I know the Slytherin team will be waiting. The cold morning breeze blows my hair off my face, and I can hear the crisp crunch of frost below my feet. I grin to myself. I love winter. As I turn a corner I start to feel a bit concerned. I used to play around the Quidditch pitch when there was no one around, and I swear I know where Slytherin will be waiting. I slow, lungs heaving. I lean forward, hands on my knees, before looking out over the country side away from the pitch. I can see the edge of the Forbidden Forest through the mist. Beautiful. Despite a lack of leaves. 

"Oi, is that you?" I jump and turn surprised to see Draco watching me. He's smiling. Excited.

"If by 'you' you mean Clara, then yes, it is," I say smiling. I stride over to him. 

"Worn out already? You look like you've just run a marathon!"

"Do I?" He smiles and shakes his head, looking down at his feet. "Anyway, I've just come over to wish you good luck,"

"Why thank you," He grins, looking up at me. I blow a puff of misty air onto his face and he laughs. 

"I'll see you after?"

"Yes, course," He replies. "You could come in and join the team, the audience always needs some comedy relief," I scoff and roll my eyes. 

Blushing slightly, I step up onto my toes and give him a light kiss on the cheek. "Good luck Draco," I murmured, grinning. I catch a brief look at the grin on his face before turning and running back to Hermione.

xxx

Hermione found us two seats reasonably close to the exit. We have a good view of the pitch and we watch as the two teams walk out onto the field. Within a few minutes, the whistle is blown and quaffle released. There is a sudden flurry of movement as the players jump into action, swooping around as green and red blurs in the sky. The game goes on for a couple minutes, and no one scores. Then I hear something. I nudge Hermione, and she nods. 

'Weasley cannot save a thing,

He cannot block a single ring,

That's why Slytherins all sing:

Weasley is our King.

'Weasley was born in a bin,

He always lets the quaffle in,

Weasley will make sure we win

Weasley is our King.'

Hermione and I glance at each other, and my stomach turns. There are very few Slytherins who would do this. Sadly, however, I know the guilty culprit. Who else would write a song about Ron? Who else would put in the effort? The singing starts to grow louder as the Slytherin keeper stops Gryffindor from scoring. I look up, my eyes scanning for Harry and Draco, my eyes finally find Draco and I see him smiling. Git. To think ten minutes ago I kissed him on the cheek. 

'Weasley is our King,

Weasley is our King,

He always lets the Quaffle in

Weasley is our King.'

As singing turns to chanting, and when Ron fails to stop a Slytherin goal, it only grows louder.

'WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN

HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN...'

I can almost feel Ron struggling. He looks bewildered out there alone. Hermione and I exchange looks. 

"Your bloody boyfriend,"

"He isn't my boyfriend!"

I look back out to the pitch, eyeing the Slytherin stands. I see a girl out the front, back to the game, conducting the others. Pansy Parkinson. I let out a slow breath. I'll skin her alive, I swear. Harry and Draco are both circling the pitch in search of the snitch, and as the singing grows louder I can barely hear anything else. Poor Ron. The Slytherins just keep scoring, and every time I swear the singing gets louder. 

'THAT'S WHY SLYTHERINS ALL SING

WEASLEY IS OUR KING.'

Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I see Harry dive. Then Draco. I watch, breathless, my clammy hand squeezing Hermione's until finally Harry's broom pulls up and he holds up the snitch. We scream. He did it. No one would remember all those goals Ron let in as long at Gryffindor won-

Suddenly, out of nowhere, I see a ball slam into Harry's head. No. Shit. Hermione and I make eyes contact, before turning and pushing through the crowd towards the exit. We scramble past people, who eventually moved out of the way seeing it was us, and almost topple down the stairs. We race to the edge of the pitch, and watch as the Gryffindor team, along with some Slytherins, circle Harry. He sits up, thankfully. Hermione and I can barely hear the conversation, but I see Draco step in, then George. Draco must have said something rude, and George and Harry both leap forward, but are held back by other teammates. I go to run over, but Hermione holds me back. 

"Maybe this is good, let them be angry at each other. It's better than them bottling it up," Hermione says, and I nod. She's right. I look around for Ron, and see him making his way slowly towards the changing rooms alone. Hermione follows my gaze, looks back at me as if she isn't sure she can trust me on my own. 

"Go, 'Mione." I mutter, and she nods, running towards Ron.

All of a sudden I see a flurry of movement on the pitch. Both Harry and George run at Draco and are on top of him in a matter of seconds. I wait for a second. Let them fight it out? No. If it were just the two of them, maybe, but this is two on one. I bolt forward, 

"Boys!"I screech, stopping a few metres from them. My blood starts to boil.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER! GET. OFF. HIM. NOW." He looks up at me, and so does George. Fred pulls George away, and I walk over to Harry and pull him to his feet. Our eyes meet, and I can see a twinge of embarrassment. Good. I steady myself. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah... I'm alright,"

I grit my teeth, "Good! Then I won't feel bad about doing this!" I shove him backwards, very aware of our audience. "How stupid are you?! Attack him. Great plan, and not with magic but just like muggles do- With your hands. Astounding."

He sighs, looking at me impatiently. 

"I've never seen behaviour like it- back up to the castle, both of you, and straight to the Head of House's office, Go! Now!" Madame Hooch yells, and Harry turns away and walks around me. I groan. 

"Harry!" He turns, "er, good game! It was really impressive... For someone who can't catch."

He smiles genuinely, "Thanks,"

"NOW!" Madame Hooch screeches. Harry nods and hurries away. I turn to Draco, lying on the ground, with the Gryffindor team glancing down at him. I rush over, 

"Are you alright?" I say. He gives me a look. His lip is bleeding. "No?"

"Ask your brother why don't you!" He hisses, I roll my eyes. 

"Whats going on?! Malfoy? Some Ravenclaw girls said there was a fight- A Muggle one-" Hermione's frazzled voice sounds from behind me. 

"No kidding.." Draco says, trying to move and winces. I glance around at the idle, Gryffindor team. 

"Piss off if you aren't going to help!" They do. All of them. Most of Slytherin are gone too, all except Crabb and Goyle, who aren't moving. I sigh. "Hermione, help me get him up."

She gives me a questionable look, and I glare at her, and she jumps into action, helping me pull Draco to his feet when Crabbe and Goyle finally come over to help. Draco gives me a cheeky grin. I grit my teeth. 

"We'll talk later, Malfoy."

"You're cute when you're acting protective, Potter."

xxx

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Taylor xx