dragonfly || d.m. [✔]

quidditch,

T/W: Mentions of vertigo, the fear of heights.

Would you still love me if my soul was the same, but materials were different?

—

a r i a  s t u n n i n g s

He stared at me, stepping closer, "Why do you keep tensing up everytime I mention Libelle?"

"It's nothing. Just something," I reply, when I'm terrified that he'll get to know about it all. About what I am, my fate -- my life. But he won't. If I can keep shut, that is, a little voice in my head squeaks. I can, I tell it.

He rolls his eyes, "Very clear."

"I don't want it to be. I want it to be as unclear as muddy water."

"Then I'll just pour in some clear water and get the mud out. Let's see how clear it is then, Stunnings," he smirks at me.

I'm left speechless as he walks away, his blue Ravenclaw robes flying behind him. "Are you coming or not?" he asked.

"Yeah. I'm coming," I told him.

"So, I think you need to know that today there are no classes," he told me.

"No? Why?"

"Because there's a Quidditch match today -- between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. The Quidditch season is on and there are no classes for that reason," he told me.

"So people abandon education for a game?"

Draco looked like someone had just pied him in the face, "Game? Just a game? Quidditch is life, it's survival, it's the reason I still exist upon the face of this godforsaken world!"

"Okay . . . if you're going to be immature enough to give that much importance to a game, I'll play along," I teased.

He smirked, "At least I don't try to cover my face all day with a hood. The amount of importance."

I frowned as I started walking faster, "Whatever."

"Can't take a joke, Stunnings?" he caught up with me in a few strides.

I ignored him as I walked through the doors of the Great Hall. 

"Stunnings?" he sounded slightly worried now. "Stunnings? I didn't mean to upset you- Actually, I don't care if you wish to be all petty about a hood."

There was a reason I wore the hood. A reason besides the fact that I was an introvert. There was a reason I was an introvert. And it was all in my origin; the queen of the night sky, the holder of dreams, the attacker of nightmares: the moon.

But he didn't know that and didn't need to know that. He didn't need that kind of shit in his life.

* * *

"Luna?" I asked as the blonde girl walked towards me. "Where were you for breakfast?"

"Hmm," she told me. I laughed as I put an arm around the girl's petite figure. So fragile, so delicate. 

"What 'hmm'?" I asked, as I turned towards the stadium. The Quidditch stadium. Yes, I had come to watch the Quidditch game. Why? Because I had nothing else to do and couldn't find Draco anywhere. No, I wasn't looking for him. I was just . . . wondering.

"Uhuh," Luna said, still in a trance. I gave up on her.

"Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff match! LET THE QUIDDITCH SEASON BEGIN!" the announcer, with a nametag saying 'Lee Jordan', yelled into the mic, practically deafening me.

And then my eyes practically dropped out of my head. 

Is that Draco Malfoy in the game? On a broom? Wearing a Seeker badge? 

He saw me looking and smirked, his blonde-white hair ruffled from the wind and his cheeks were pink with the sharp bites from the wind. He looked gorgeous but my adamant ass will never admit that to him. Never.

He dived to avoid a bludger, his grey eyes scanning the vast expanse of the sky before him, for the Snitch as far as I remember. Of course, there were other players in the game but only he caught my attention -- he probably caught everybody's. I mean, I can't be the only one, can I?

He swooped like a bird, diving like a fish in the water, almost dancing on the air surrounding him. 

And then he was zooming towards what looked like ground to me, until I saw a tiny golden speck fluttering around. He crash landed. He crash landed badly, landing on his back. But nobody from Ravenclaw seemed to be paying attention to the fallen player, but instead to his right hand. 

As I walked closer I realized why. When Draco Malfoy had fallen, he's taken the Snitch with him. Ravenclaw had won!

The player however seemed to be losing consciousness, but when I walked upto the figure laying on the ground, he said, "I won. Quidditch is the best."

He smirked, his lips almost forming a half-smile. His eyes closed as I muttered a spell to lift him but his mouth remained in his smile. 

Was this how the devil managed to look angelic?

Because Draco Malfoy sure looked beautiful as Madam Pomfrey took him in. "You look so peaceful," I whispered.

"I know. But you're not going to be looking anything like peaceful when I'll be teaching you how to fly," he told me, his lips hardly moving to form the words and his voice breathy.

"Shit," I cursed the entire universe, just because I'd complimented a boy.