Malfoy: Year One

Chapter 5: Seeker:

"Up!" 

The broom shot into my hand. I grinned. Quidditch, the best game in the whole world. Sure, the rules don't really make sense and it's super dangerous, but the feeling of flying through the air, untethered to any responsibility and expectation was one of my favourite things to do. I was good too, I thought. You tend to get good at the things you're living alone in a manor house in the middle of nowhere. 

The very first time I rode a broom I was seven years old. My mother almost had a heart attack but my father didn't take much notice of me. I loved every second of it. With the wind in my face and the weightless feeling that came with flight. I practised almost every day. I broke my arm more than a couple of times, and my collarbone shattered once. But I never stopped unless I had to. Soon, I developed other interests too, like reading, but Quidditch definitely held a special place in my heart. That's why I was so excited for our broom flying lesson. 

Unfortunately, our daft games professor Madame Hooch was babying us all, on account of the clueless Mudbloods in the class. It was pathetic, the easy instructions. She even had the audacity to tell me that I was mounting the broom wrong, which I quickly corrected, but honestly, how was I supposed to know how? The only coaching I had gotten was from myself. And then, when it was finally time to fly, that blubbering Longbottom fellow was stupid enough to hurt himself. I composed myself and let out a laugh. It was just the way that he had fallen, it had been hilarious, I was surprised that more people weren't laughing too. 

"Did you see his face, the great lump?" 

Some of the other Slytherins started to laugh. The stupidly righteous Gryfindoors remained silent, loyally keeping masked expressions. I gripped my broom tightly. 

"Shut up, Malfoy," a Gryffindor girl snapped at me rudely. 

A girl from my year called Pansy Parkinson sneered,"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom? "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati." 

I did think that that was a little harsh on her part but I was so swept up in the moment I wasn't quite sure what to say. Something in the grass caught my eye and I realised with a jolt that it was Neville's Remembral. I recalled that morning where he had gotten it in the post. I had played around with it and for some reason they all got really angry at me. Honestly, those Gryffindors really need to take a chill pill, or several. 

"Look! It's that stupid thing Longbottom's grab sent him."

 I picked it up and tossed it around in my hand. It was a little bit weighted, but not heavy. The smoke inside of the ball turned a light shade of red, but I was the only one that noticed. What was I forgetting? Stupid invention, if you don't know what you're forgetting what's the point of knowing that you've forgotten something? I held the Remembrall up to the sky and it sparkled in the light. 

"Give that here Malfoy," Potter said quietly. 

Everyone went silent. I smiled. He wanted it? He could come and get it.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find — how about — up a tree?"

 I grabbed my broom and leapt onto it. This was a moment I had been waiting for.

 I felt the wind whoosh in my ears as I lifted off of the ground. But then, no sooner than I had gained altitude, Potter was in the sky too. "Give it here," Harry called, "or I'll knock you off that broom!" I circled around the sky, with Potter on my tail, tossing the ball up and down like the game I often play at home. I was getting a little nervous, he wasn't a bad flyer. "Oh, yeah?" I shot around in the air as fast as I could, but he stayed right on my tail the entire time. 

"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," like those oafs could get on a broom, still it would have been nice to have some backup, the majority of the class below were cheering for Harry. Then I couldn't take it anymore, I was tired and frustrated at all of the others attitudes. I threw the Remembrall as hard as I could into the air. "Catch it if you can, then!" What followed was something I would regret for years. 

 Potter twisted in the air and zoomed towards the falling ball, he hurtled towards the ground and just when I was sure that he was done for he tilted upwards, Remembrall in hand. My mouth fell open. How could someone who had never played before Quidditch be so good? The class roared and cheered as he landed gracefully on the ground. 

 A day later he was appointed seeker for Gryffindor. It wasn't fair, I was the reason he was even in the sky, and he gets rewarded for breaking the rules? No matter what had happened to him in the past, I was sure of one thing. I hated him. I hated Harry Potter.