Title: Insomnia
Author: GrapeSmshr
Rated: PG-13 and will probly stay that way
Coupling: HP/DM *slash* If this offends you, then why the hell did you click on the link to the fic?
Summary: What's the cure for insomnia? Spending time with your rival, of course! When Harry finds out that Draco can't sleep, he recruits himself to help.
Why, oh why, do I start another fic when I have at least a good half dozen unfinished still? Because I'm obsessive, I suppose. This is actually my first HP fic, so if it sounds kinda funny, that'd be why. I'm probly gonna be updating every week, maybe a little sooner, since next week is spring break and I'll be bored out of my mind. Anyway, please read on and enjoy!
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.
.
.
.
.
.
Insomnia
Chapter 1: Problems and Face-Offs
.
.
.
Night.
It was the best time in every twenty-four hour period, in his opinion. There was just
something about the way the darkness fell so swiftly over Hogwarts, engulfing the
castle like a second skin. It was the only time he truly appreciate the school.
But night, as he soon discovered, had taken a turn on him, and not for the better.
There was no great turning event that could justify his situation. At least, not that he
was aware of. It just happened a few weeks ago, all of a sudden.
He had insomnia.
It had been twenty days since he'd last left the conscious world. He was keeping
track of the hours, minutes, and sometimes even the excruciatingly long seconds that
had ticked by without so much as a hint of drowsiness. And, quite honestly, it was
driving him insane! He had tried multiple solutions to rid himself of this problem: herbs,
potions, even old remedies he had gotten from a Muggle book. He had tried everything
save knocking himself unconscious with a blunt object, which he was now half
considering.
The sad part was, he was getting used to not sleeping. After the first couple of
days, he had conjured up a potion that would revitalize his energy when taken twice a
day. Then he had found a spell to cover up the physical signs of his tiredom. If he
couldn't actually sleep, he was at least going to keep up the appearance that
everything was normal.
Sighing in frustration, he pushed an unruly strand of white-blonde hair behind one
pale ear. He sank onto his bed, the forest green blanket offering him no comfort even in
the daytime. Luckily for him, the rest of his House happened to be out somewhere, so
he had the entire dorm to himself. He collapsed back against his pillow, allowing the
tiredom to wash over him. Even with the potions, it was becoming increasingly difficult
for him to perform certain tasks. Quidditch practice took a heavy toll on him five nights
a week. Between that and studying, he felt like a walking corpse most of the time. At
least he had times like these to himself.
"Draco!" a sickeningly sweet voice reached his ears from the common room. He
groaned. So much for his quiet time.
"There you are!" Pansy Parkinson's head peered in from the hallway. "Honestly,
Draco Malfoy, you'd think you were avoiding us!" She had invited herself into the sixth
-year boys' dorm and stood next to Draco's bed, frowning down at the now smirking boy.
Apparently taking his accustomed smirk in stride, Pansy rushed on. "Lunch is
about to start. Let's go!" Grabbing his hand, she tugged him off the bed and over to
the stairs.
Draco yanked his hand away, startling Pansy. "I'll be there in a minute." Waiting
until she disappeared back into the common room, he turned to a locked trunk at the
foot of his bed. After reciting a few complicated spells, the trunk popped open. He
pulled out a small vial filled with hazy gray potion. "Bottom's up," he muttered before
downing the liquid in one swallow.
Now that that was taken care of, he could make his way to the Great Hall. Draco
took his time walking to lunch. He wasn't exactly in the mood to be around people.
Then again, he never was the social butterfly, so at least his brooding wouldn't be
questioned.
He rounded a corner and smacked straight into someone. With an undignified
grunt, he stumbled back but caught himself quickly. The other person wasn't as
fortunate. Draco looked down into the irritated face of Hermione Granger.
"Next time, give warning when you come barreling around corners!" Hermione
clipped as she scrambled to her feet. She held her breath, waiting for a comeback.
Draco only stared at her blankly before moving past her and into the doors leading
to the Great Hall.
Hermione gaped openly at the empty hallway. What had just happened? Malfoy
had the perfect opportunity to insult her, and he passed? Something was definitely
wrong. She hurried into the Great Hall and over to the Gryffindor table, squeezing in
next to Ron Weasley. She looked at both him and Harry Potter, who sat across the
table. "Something is not right," she told them in a low voice.
"Again? It's only lunch!" Ron threw down a forkful of potatoes and made a face.
"Honestly, Hermione, can't you discover evil at a time where meals aren't served?"
"It's not evil," she correctly defensively, then thought about her words for a moment.
"At least, not completely evil. I'm talking about Malfoy."
Ron snorted. "Malfoy, that git? When did you start considering him as less than
completely evil?"
"Since a few minutes ago. He wasn't himself. Seriously, I think something might
be wrong with him."
Harry turned curiously to the Slytherin table, his eyes falling on the object of their
conversation. Malfoy was smirking at an argument that had broken out between his
two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle. He looked the same as he always did. Turning back
to Hermione, Harry asked her gently, "Are you sure you're not just stressed out over
your classes?"
Biting her lower lip, Hermione glanced at Malfoy. "I suppose so..." she replied
uncertainly.
"Well, now that we got that out of the way, can we return to an interesting topic?"
Ron interrupted as he once again began shoveling food into his mouth.
The three finished lunch, then decided to split up. Harry wanted to do more
research for his Charms paper, while Ron asked Hermione for her help with his Potions
homework.
Gathering up his supplies, Harry made his way over to the library. The dimly lit
room was mostly empty, as most students had better things to do than study on a
Saturday afternoon. Oh, how Harry wished he were one of them! Choosing a table in
the back, he sat down with his books and parchment arranged neatly in front of him.
But did he feel like working? Not really. Instead he opted to see who else was in the
library.
Across the room sat a table of first-year Hufflepuffs. They kept giggling and were
being glared at by Madam Pince, which would quiet them down. Then they would start
giggling all over again. Harry shook his head, thrilled that the librarian's glare wasn't
aimed in his direction for once. He turned his attention to the person sitting two tables
to his left. It was none other than Malfoy, which surprised Harry to no end. Malfoy
wasn't known to spend copious amounts of time in the library, especially on a
weekend.
As if just realizing that fact himself, the blonde Slytherin quickly slid out of his seat
and bolted from the library, leaving two books on the now abandoned table. Trying to
act casual, Harry slowly approached the table and picked up both books. One of them
was a book of energy potions. The other was--"Sleeping draughts?" Just what was
Malfoy playing at?
Harry quickly set the books back down. He hurried over to his own table and
grabbed his books, hightailing it out of the library. Whatever Malfoy was up to, it
probably wasn't good. Harry needed to find Hermione, and fast.
As his friend had done only hours before, Harry made a sharp turn and ran into
someone, both of them tumbling to the ground. Straightening his glasses, Harry
jumped up quickly. He met the sneering gaze of Draco Malfoy.
"I knew you were clumsy, Potter, but it looks like your glasses could use a new
prescription also," Draco shot out in annoyance. He was now on his feet, dusting an
imaginary speck of dust off the sleeve of this robes. His eyes never left Harry's.
"Malfoy, you're such an insolent prat," Harry muttered.
"Now, now, no need to resort to insults." Draco watched in amusement as Harry's
face turned various shades of red.
Forcing his anger back down, Harry remembered his original purpose for leaving the
library in such a hurry. Perhaps it was a good thing he ran into Malfoy. "Say, Malfoy,
planning on killing someone anytime soon?" Harry asked just as casually as he would
have asked for the time.
"What the hell kind of question is that? Are you volunteering?"
Harry shrugged. "I saw the books you were looking at in the library. Energy
potions, sleeping draughts..."
Oh, this boy really was too much. "Just what are you implying, Potter?" Draco
stepped up to Harry so that they were almost nose to nose. His eyes flashed
dangerously, daring the other boy to continue.
Harry stood stubbornly, not breaking eye contact with the blonde. He refused to
back down.
To his surprise, Draco stepped away first. "I don't have time for this," he said airily,
turning and strutting down the hallway as if nothing had happened.
The young Gryffindor stood staring at the retrea form of his childhood enemy.
He was utterly and completely baffled. Malfoy never backed down. Never. It quickly
made him wonder if Hermione was correct when she said that something was wrong
with Malfoy.
Quickly setting off for the common room, Harry replayed the conversation in his
head. Interestingly, Malfoy never denied that he had been up to something. Then
again, he never was one to admit anything, so Harry wasn't all that surprised. For
some reason, his mind kept falling back on the other boy's eyes. The silver orbs were
practically burning when Harry had insulted him. But when he had looked closer, Harry
saw that they weren't as bright as usual. In fact, he looked almost ... exhausted.
Upon reaching the portrait of the Fat Lady, Harry muttered the password and
entered the large room, only to find it empty. That was strange. This was always
where Hermione would help Ron with his homework. He rushed up the stairs and into
the sixth-year boys' dorm room, which was also empty. Where had they disappeared
to?
Well, Harry had better things to do than wait around for his friends to turn up.
These better things included... Quidditch. The next best thing to being with his
friends, Quidditch was what Harry lived for. He was born to fly, and knew so the first
time he had sat on a broomstick.
He took his job as Gryffindor seeker very seriously, practicing every chance he got.
And this was the perfect time to do so. The walk down to the Quidditch pitch took no
time at all, and soon Harry was taking out his prized Firebolt from the broomshed,
along with the trunk containing the four infamous Quidditch balls.
Throwing one leg over his broomstick, Harry released the golden snitch and
watched it disappear in a flash of glitter. And then he was off, rising higher and higher
into the vast expanse of sky. His eyes lazily scanned the air for any sign of the snitch,
but he had to admit that his heart was more in the flying than the searching today.
There was nothing like flying, especially if he was the only one on the pitch.
Except that he wasn't. Harry's heightened senses allowed him to feel the other
person's presence before actually seeing him. Then he spotted a shock of platinum
hair and unmistakably recognized his rival. Slowing down, Harry guided his Firebolt
lower and lower until he had finally landed in front of the other teen. "Decided you need
some pointers, Malfoy?"
Draco's lips curled into what would have been a smile, had his eyes not been
narrowed. "The only thing 'pointed' around here is your head, Potter," he shot back
automatically.
"Touché." Harry didn't know why, but for the last year, he had actually started to
enjoy arguing with Malfoy. He found that a sarcastic streak was buried within himself
and had been brought to the surface. It was a remarkable thing, really. So now,
whenever he was around Malfoy, he couldn't help but make a biting remark or show him
up. Hmm, now that wasn't a bad idea... "Hey, Malfoy, what would you say to some
friendly competition?"
Now Draco was regarding Harry with suspicion, but he wouldn't say that he wasn't
intrigued. And he never was one to turn down a challenge. "What did you have in
mind?" he asked, taking a step closer to Harry.
"A simple game of Catch the Snitch." Harry raised his hand, gesturing to the sky.
"I already released the snitch." He watched the other boy's face as he contemplated
whether or not he would accept, but Harry already knew what the answer would be.
"You're on, Potter."
A few minutes later, both boys were mounted over their respective Firebolts. They
were staring each other down, neither looking away. This was the way they always
looked before a competition, sizing up the other opponent, confident in their own
victory.
"Here are the rules," Harry ticked them off on his fingers. "Number one: there are
no rules. Catch the snitch and you win. Now, on my mark... Go!" And both boys
rose into the air with practiced skill, traveling at an alarmingly fast rate.
Once again, Harry let the euphoric rush of flying temporarily distract him from the
task at hand. He was once again alone on the pitch, soaring higher and higher until his
head was swirling with dizzy colors. It was only when his eyes happened to focus on
another diving figure that snapped him out of his momentary reverie. Damnit! Malfoy
had spotted the snitch!
Plummeting faster than he ever had in his entire career as seeker, Harry quickly
caught up with the Slytherin. The snitch was zooming across the pitch, and they were
in fast pursuit. Blurs resembling the faint outlines of objects whirred past them as all
they focused on was gold, pure gold.
As the snitch made a sudden turn to the left, Harry expertly followed. He could feel
Draco beside him, fast approaching until they were side by side, close enough to feel
the wind rushing around the other. With a new determination, Harry leaned forward and
stretched out his left hand as far as it would possibly go. His fingers just barely
brushed the cool gold. Almost there, just a bit further...
As if it knew its apparent value and wanted to play hard to get, the snitch pulled
upward and flew over their heads and out of sight once again. With a string of curses,
Harry turned around and began to search the sky for any sign of gold.
"Quite a shame, Potter. You almost had it there," Draco called out with a derisive
laugh as he zoomed off across the pitch.
Scowling, Harry rose into the sky for a better vantage over the pitch. Both seekers
kept to their respective ends of the pitch, every once in a while catching the other's eye
and exchanging cutting remarks while scanning the wide blue expanse.
After about fifteen minutes, a tiny object came whirring out of the stands. Catching
sight of the snitch, both Harry and Draco raced toward the golden object that was
fluttering about carelessly.
Leaning further and further into his broom, Harry knew that victory would be his.
Malfoy was too far away to beat him to the snitch. Now all he had to do was catch the
blasted thing... As he approached the snitch, the tiny golden ball attempted to dart out
of Harry's path, but it just wasn't quick enough. Harry was speeding forward, hand
outstretched.
And then his fingers enclosed around the golden object, ceasing its fluttering.
Harry descended to the ground, followed closely by Draco. Once the snitch was
carefully placed back in the trunk with the other Quidditch balls, and everything was
placed in the broomshed, the boys faced each other. Both were panting from exertion.
Draco stepped forward, breath coming in short gasps. "Good..." But the rest of
his words died on his lips as he collapsed face forward into the hard ground.
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Come on, everyone say it with me... "Aww, poor Draco..." So how was that for a first chapter? It was actually longer than most of my usual chapters, but I tried to keep things interesting. Anyway, please review! The more reviews, the happier the author. The happier the author, the faster she posts. The faster she posts, the happier the reviewers. The happier the reviewers, the more they review. See? It's like the circle of life here. Review if you want to survive!
Author: GrapeSmshr
Rated: PG-13 and will probly stay that way
Coupling: HP/DM *slash* If this offends you, then why the hell did you click on the link to the fic?
Summary: What's the cure for insomnia? Spending time with your rival, of course! When Harry finds out that Draco can't sleep, he recruits himself to help.
Why, oh why, do I start another fic when I have at least a good half dozen unfinished still? Because I'm obsessive, I suppose. This is actually my first HP fic, so if it sounds kinda funny, that'd be why. I'm probly gonna be updating every week, maybe a little sooner, since next week is spring break and I'll be bored out of my mind. Anyway, please read on and enjoy!
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Insomnia
Chapter 1: Problems and Face-Offs
.
.
.
Night.
It was the best time in every twenty-four hour period, in his opinion. There was just
something about the way the darkness fell so swiftly over Hogwarts, engulfing the
castle like a second skin. It was the only time he truly appreciate the school.
But night, as he soon discovered, had taken a turn on him, and not for the better.
There was no great turning event that could justify his situation. At least, not that he
was aware of. It just happened a few weeks ago, all of a sudden.
He had insomnia.
It had been twenty days since he'd last left the conscious world. He was keeping
track of the hours, minutes, and sometimes even the excruciatingly long seconds that
had ticked by without so much as a hint of drowsiness. And, quite honestly, it was
driving him insane! He had tried multiple solutions to rid himself of this problem: herbs,
potions, even old remedies he had gotten from a Muggle book. He had tried everything
save knocking himself unconscious with a blunt object, which he was now half
considering.
The sad part was, he was getting used to not sleeping. After the first couple of
days, he had conjured up a potion that would revitalize his energy when taken twice a
day. Then he had found a spell to cover up the physical signs of his tiredom. If he
couldn't actually sleep, he was at least going to keep up the appearance that
everything was normal.
Sighing in frustration, he pushed an unruly strand of white-blonde hair behind one
pale ear. He sank onto his bed, the forest green blanket offering him no comfort even in
the daytime. Luckily for him, the rest of his House happened to be out somewhere, so
he had the entire dorm to himself. He collapsed back against his pillow, allowing the
tiredom to wash over him. Even with the potions, it was becoming increasingly difficult
for him to perform certain tasks. Quidditch practice took a heavy toll on him five nights
a week. Between that and studying, he felt like a walking corpse most of the time. At
least he had times like these to himself.
"Draco!" a sickeningly sweet voice reached his ears from the common room. He
groaned. So much for his quiet time.
"There you are!" Pansy Parkinson's head peered in from the hallway. "Honestly,
Draco Malfoy, you'd think you were avoiding us!" She had invited herself into the sixth
-year boys' dorm and stood next to Draco's bed, frowning down at the now smirking boy.
Apparently taking his accustomed smirk in stride, Pansy rushed on. "Lunch is
about to start. Let's go!" Grabbing his hand, she tugged him off the bed and over to
the stairs.
Draco yanked his hand away, startling Pansy. "I'll be there in a minute." Waiting
until she disappeared back into the common room, he turned to a locked trunk at the
foot of his bed. After reciting a few complicated spells, the trunk popped open. He
pulled out a small vial filled with hazy gray potion. "Bottom's up," he muttered before
downing the liquid in one swallow.
Now that that was taken care of, he could make his way to the Great Hall. Draco
took his time walking to lunch. He wasn't exactly in the mood to be around people.
Then again, he never was the social butterfly, so at least his brooding wouldn't be
questioned.
He rounded a corner and smacked straight into someone. With an undignified
grunt, he stumbled back but caught himself quickly. The other person wasn't as
fortunate. Draco looked down into the irritated face of Hermione Granger.
"Next time, give warning when you come barreling around corners!" Hermione
clipped as she scrambled to her feet. She held her breath, waiting for a comeback.
Draco only stared at her blankly before moving past her and into the doors leading
to the Great Hall.
Hermione gaped openly at the empty hallway. What had just happened? Malfoy
had the perfect opportunity to insult her, and he passed? Something was definitely
wrong. She hurried into the Great Hall and over to the Gryffindor table, squeezing in
next to Ron Weasley. She looked at both him and Harry Potter, who sat across the
table. "Something is not right," she told them in a low voice.
"Again? It's only lunch!" Ron threw down a forkful of potatoes and made a face.
"Honestly, Hermione, can't you discover evil at a time where meals aren't served?"
"It's not evil," she correctly defensively, then thought about her words for a moment.
"At least, not completely evil. I'm talking about Malfoy."
Ron snorted. "Malfoy, that git? When did you start considering him as less than
completely evil?"
"Since a few minutes ago. He wasn't himself. Seriously, I think something might
be wrong with him."
Harry turned curiously to the Slytherin table, his eyes falling on the object of their
conversation. Malfoy was smirking at an argument that had broken out between his
two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle. He looked the same as he always did. Turning back
to Hermione, Harry asked her gently, "Are you sure you're not just stressed out over
your classes?"
Biting her lower lip, Hermione glanced at Malfoy. "I suppose so..." she replied
uncertainly.
"Well, now that we got that out of the way, can we return to an interesting topic?"
Ron interrupted as he once again began shoveling food into his mouth.
The three finished lunch, then decided to split up. Harry wanted to do more
research for his Charms paper, while Ron asked Hermione for her help with his Potions
homework.
Gathering up his supplies, Harry made his way over to the library. The dimly lit
room was mostly empty, as most students had better things to do than study on a
Saturday afternoon. Oh, how Harry wished he were one of them! Choosing a table in
the back, he sat down with his books and parchment arranged neatly in front of him.
But did he feel like working? Not really. Instead he opted to see who else was in the
library.
Across the room sat a table of first-year Hufflepuffs. They kept giggling and were
being glared at by Madam Pince, which would quiet them down. Then they would start
giggling all over again. Harry shook his head, thrilled that the librarian's glare wasn't
aimed in his direction for once. He turned his attention to the person sitting two tables
to his left. It was none other than Malfoy, which surprised Harry to no end. Malfoy
wasn't known to spend copious amounts of time in the library, especially on a
weekend.
As if just realizing that fact himself, the blonde Slytherin quickly slid out of his seat
and bolted from the library, leaving two books on the now abandoned table. Trying to
act casual, Harry slowly approached the table and picked up both books. One of them
was a book of energy potions. The other was--"Sleeping draughts?" Just what was
Malfoy playing at?
Harry quickly set the books back down. He hurried over to his own table and
grabbed his books, hightailing it out of the library. Whatever Malfoy was up to, it
probably wasn't good. Harry needed to find Hermione, and fast.
As his friend had done only hours before, Harry made a sharp turn and ran into
someone, both of them tumbling to the ground. Straightening his glasses, Harry
jumped up quickly. He met the sneering gaze of Draco Malfoy.
"I knew you were clumsy, Potter, but it looks like your glasses could use a new
prescription also," Draco shot out in annoyance. He was now on his feet, dusting an
imaginary speck of dust off the sleeve of this robes. His eyes never left Harry's.
"Malfoy, you're such an insolent prat," Harry muttered.
"Now, now, no need to resort to insults." Draco watched in amusement as Harry's
face turned various shades of red.
Forcing his anger back down, Harry remembered his original purpose for leaving the
library in such a hurry. Perhaps it was a good thing he ran into Malfoy. "Say, Malfoy,
planning on killing someone anytime soon?" Harry asked just as casually as he would
have asked for the time.
"What the hell kind of question is that? Are you volunteering?"
Harry shrugged. "I saw the books you were looking at in the library. Energy
potions, sleeping draughts..."
Oh, this boy really was too much. "Just what are you implying, Potter?" Draco
stepped up to Harry so that they were almost nose to nose. His eyes flashed
dangerously, daring the other boy to continue.
Harry stood stubbornly, not breaking eye contact with the blonde. He refused to
back down.
To his surprise, Draco stepped away first. "I don't have time for this," he said airily,
turning and strutting down the hallway as if nothing had happened.
The young Gryffindor stood staring at the retrea form of his childhood enemy.
He was utterly and completely baffled. Malfoy never backed down. Never. It quickly
made him wonder if Hermione was correct when she said that something was wrong
with Malfoy.
Quickly setting off for the common room, Harry replayed the conversation in his
head. Interestingly, Malfoy never denied that he had been up to something. Then
again, he never was one to admit anything, so Harry wasn't all that surprised. For
some reason, his mind kept falling back on the other boy's eyes. The silver orbs were
practically burning when Harry had insulted him. But when he had looked closer, Harry
saw that they weren't as bright as usual. In fact, he looked almost ... exhausted.
Upon reaching the portrait of the Fat Lady, Harry muttered the password and
entered the large room, only to find it empty. That was strange. This was always
where Hermione would help Ron with his homework. He rushed up the stairs and into
the sixth-year boys' dorm room, which was also empty. Where had they disappeared
to?
Well, Harry had better things to do than wait around for his friends to turn up.
These better things included... Quidditch. The next best thing to being with his
friends, Quidditch was what Harry lived for. He was born to fly, and knew so the first
time he had sat on a broomstick.
He took his job as Gryffindor seeker very seriously, practicing every chance he got.
And this was the perfect time to do so. The walk down to the Quidditch pitch took no
time at all, and soon Harry was taking out his prized Firebolt from the broomshed,
along with the trunk containing the four infamous Quidditch balls.
Throwing one leg over his broomstick, Harry released the golden snitch and
watched it disappear in a flash of glitter. And then he was off, rising higher and higher
into the vast expanse of sky. His eyes lazily scanned the air for any sign of the snitch,
but he had to admit that his heart was more in the flying than the searching today.
There was nothing like flying, especially if he was the only one on the pitch.
Except that he wasn't. Harry's heightened senses allowed him to feel the other
person's presence before actually seeing him. Then he spotted a shock of platinum
hair and unmistakably recognized his rival. Slowing down, Harry guided his Firebolt
lower and lower until he had finally landed in front of the other teen. "Decided you need
some pointers, Malfoy?"
Draco's lips curled into what would have been a smile, had his eyes not been
narrowed. "The only thing 'pointed' around here is your head, Potter," he shot back
automatically.
"Touché." Harry didn't know why, but for the last year, he had actually started to
enjoy arguing with Malfoy. He found that a sarcastic streak was buried within himself
and had been brought to the surface. It was a remarkable thing, really. So now,
whenever he was around Malfoy, he couldn't help but make a biting remark or show him
up. Hmm, now that wasn't a bad idea... "Hey, Malfoy, what would you say to some
friendly competition?"
Now Draco was regarding Harry with suspicion, but he wouldn't say that he wasn't
intrigued. And he never was one to turn down a challenge. "What did you have in
mind?" he asked, taking a step closer to Harry.
"A simple game of Catch the Snitch." Harry raised his hand, gesturing to the sky.
"I already released the snitch." He watched the other boy's face as he contemplated
whether or not he would accept, but Harry already knew what the answer would be.
"You're on, Potter."
A few minutes later, both boys were mounted over their respective Firebolts. They
were staring each other down, neither looking away. This was the way they always
looked before a competition, sizing up the other opponent, confident in their own
victory.
"Here are the rules," Harry ticked them off on his fingers. "Number one: there are
no rules. Catch the snitch and you win. Now, on my mark... Go!" And both boys
rose into the air with practiced skill, traveling at an alarmingly fast rate.
Once again, Harry let the euphoric rush of flying temporarily distract him from the
task at hand. He was once again alone on the pitch, soaring higher and higher until his
head was swirling with dizzy colors. It was only when his eyes happened to focus on
another diving figure that snapped him out of his momentary reverie. Damnit! Malfoy
had spotted the snitch!
Plummeting faster than he ever had in his entire career as seeker, Harry quickly
caught up with the Slytherin. The snitch was zooming across the pitch, and they were
in fast pursuit. Blurs resembling the faint outlines of objects whirred past them as all
they focused on was gold, pure gold.
As the snitch made a sudden turn to the left, Harry expertly followed. He could feel
Draco beside him, fast approaching until they were side by side, close enough to feel
the wind rushing around the other. With a new determination, Harry leaned forward and
stretched out his left hand as far as it would possibly go. His fingers just barely
brushed the cool gold. Almost there, just a bit further...
As if it knew its apparent value and wanted to play hard to get, the snitch pulled
upward and flew over their heads and out of sight once again. With a string of curses,
Harry turned around and began to search the sky for any sign of gold.
"Quite a shame, Potter. You almost had it there," Draco called out with a derisive
laugh as he zoomed off across the pitch.
Scowling, Harry rose into the sky for a better vantage over the pitch. Both seekers
kept to their respective ends of the pitch, every once in a while catching the other's eye
and exchanging cutting remarks while scanning the wide blue expanse.
After about fifteen minutes, a tiny object came whirring out of the stands. Catching
sight of the snitch, both Harry and Draco raced toward the golden object that was
fluttering about carelessly.
Leaning further and further into his broom, Harry knew that victory would be his.
Malfoy was too far away to beat him to the snitch. Now all he had to do was catch the
blasted thing... As he approached the snitch, the tiny golden ball attempted to dart out
of Harry's path, but it just wasn't quick enough. Harry was speeding forward, hand
outstretched.
And then his fingers enclosed around the golden object, ceasing its fluttering.
Harry descended to the ground, followed closely by Draco. Once the snitch was
carefully placed back in the trunk with the other Quidditch balls, and everything was
placed in the broomshed, the boys faced each other. Both were panting from exertion.
Draco stepped forward, breath coming in short gasps. "Good..." But the rest of
his words died on his lips as he collapsed face forward into the hard ground.
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Come on, everyone say it with me... "Aww, poor Draco..." So how was that for a first chapter? It was actually longer than most of my usual chapters, but I tried to keep things interesting. Anyway, please review! The more reviews, the happier the author. The happier the author, the faster she posts. The faster she posts, the happier the reviewers. The happier the reviewers, the more they review. See? It's like the circle of life here. Review if you want to survive!