Draya Malfoy

15 - 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.'

Harry glared in the direction of the white-blond haired Slytherin who was too busy leading the crowd into the chorus of her new song to bother looking for the Golden Snitch.

He felt a surge of anger bolt through him. What was that bitch's problem? It was as though she had been put on this planet specifically to piss him off.

She did not even seem to care that they were in the middle of a Quidditch game - winding him up was clearly far more important to her than winning.

So, Harry promised himself he wouldn't rise to Draya's taunts. He would instead concentrate on locating that fucking Snitch and save poor Ron from this dire humiliation.

Except that was easier said than done when the whole stadium was howling with laughter at Draya's cruel song.

Although... he had to grudgingly admit, it was impressively catchy, and, on more than one occasion, he had to stop himself from singing along.

Sighing heavily, he went to drag his eyes away from the laughing Slytherin to continue his search but, instead, he found himself freezing. For a speck of gold glinted in the sunlight directly above her left ear.

Straight away he could feel the rush of adrenalin course through his veins. Blood roared in his ears and his heart thudded manically against his ribcage.

This was it. Pointing his broom forward, he leant down and zoomed as fast as he could, needing to get to Draya before she realised what was happening.

Obviously sensing something, she looked over her shoulder, her eyes widening in alarm at the sight of her enemy rushing towards her. Harry refused to take his own eyes off the Snitch which continued to flutter teasingly next to her head.

And then, just before Harry reached it, the Snitch seemed to decide to play games and zoomed away, with Draya after it having finally spotted it.

No. Harry refused to let her get it. Urging his broomstick to go faster, he caught up to her side, knocking into her arm as he attempted to push her off course.

He didn't care about playing dirty, not after that song. But his nostrils were suddenly full of her scent and her long silvery hair was tickling his face.

Think Snitch, he said determinedly to himself as he let go of his broomstick to stretch his fingers towards the Snitch - Draya's fingernails scrabbling the back of his hand hopelessly.

And then his fingers closed around the tiny, struggling ball and the Gryffindor spectators screamed their approval.

WHAM.

A Bludger had hit Harry squarely in the small of the back and he flew forwards off his broom. Luckily he was only five or six feet above the ground, having dived so low to catch the Snitch, but he was winded all the same as he landed flat on his back on the frozen pitch.

"That was for Draya, you bastard!"

******

I was fucking seething. Not even Crabbe's revenge could come close to appeasing me.

Jumping off my broom behind Harry, I couldn't help myself. The anger was too much.

"Saved Weasley's neck, haven't you?" I spat as Harry got up and dusted off his knees. "I've never seen a worse Keeper... but then he was born in a bin... did you like my lyrics, Potter?"

To my frustration, he didn't answer - just turned his back on me to celebrate his victory with his team.

"We wanted to write another couple of verses!" I called, anger taking over as Harry continued to ignore me to hug Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet. "But we couldn't find rhymes for fat and ugly - we wanted to sing about his mother, see-"

Even as the words left my mouth, I knew I had gone way too far. But it was like word vomit. All I wanted to do was get a rise out of Harry, I wanted him to fucking acknowledge me and the song I'd worked so hard on to wind him up.

And yet still Harry refused to look at me. Instead, Angelina Johnson muttered something in his ear and they both smirked.

"- we couldn't fit in useless loser either - for his father, you know -"

Oh my god, where the fuck was Blaise when I needed him?

The Weasley twins pushed themselves through the crowd and stood glaring dangerously at me.

"Leave it!" Angelina said loudly as she took one of them by the arm. "Leave it, Fred, let her yell, she's just sore she lost, the jumped-up little-"

"-but you like the Weasleys, don't you, Potter?" I sneered, not taking my eyes away from my prize. "Spend holidays there and everything, don't you? Can't see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you've been dragged up by Muggles, even the Weasley's hovel smells okay-"

The twins had to be held back. I felt a flash of satisfaction as I now had the complete attention of the Gryffindors, especially Harry who was looking positively puce in the face. I just knew all he needed was one final push-

"Or perhaps," I said, getting ready to sign my own death warrant, "you can remember what your mother's house stank like, Potter, and Weasley's pigsty reminds you of it-"

And that was it.

Harry's body collided into mine and I toppled backwards, my back slamming hard against the ground as Harry straddled on top of me, both of us breathing heavily as we wrestled for dominance. I tried desperately to flip him off me but he was too strong and bared all his weight down on me, painfully pinning my wrists above my head.

I could hear girls' voices screaming, Crabbe yelling, a whistle blowing and the bellowing of the crowd around me, but I did not care. I did not care about anything other than having one up on Harry.

"You little bitch," Harry snarled in my ear as I writhed and kicked beneath him. "Give me one reason not to hurt you right now. Give me one good fucking reason."

"Go on, do it," I hissed angrily, tilting my face up to glare at him. "Hit me, Potter, hit me in front of all these people who think you are God's sodding gift."

His green eyes sparked as they burned into mine, our faces were so close our lips were practically touching. He was all I could see, all I could feel, all I could smell... his invasion of me not in the least bit unpleasant.

I stared up at him through the strands of my hair splayed messily across my face. I was desperate to brush it aside but Harry's grip remained steadfast on my wrists, unwilling to let me go anytime soon.

Hurried footsteps thundered towards us as people neared and shouted our names. I wished they would all just fuck off. This was our fight, between nobody else but us.

And then, just like that, hands pulled Harry off me and Umbridge was issuing him a lifetime ban from Quidditch for attempting to beat up a girl.

"But Professor, she was dissing my family!" Ron complained. "Harry should have given it to her hard!"

There must be something rather wrong with me because I didn't mind that statement in the slightest.

*****