The Idea of Draco

3 - Closer

Bill managed to get the best seats, high up in the top box. It would probably be fantastic if I actually liked watching Quidditch and knew the rules.

But there is something I do like watching.

"DRACO MALFOY!"

I cannot take my eyes off the white-blond haired boy as he flies around to cheers, wearing what Maisey informs me is his signature scowl.

But the scowl disappears as he flies near to our box, a smile immediately flickering at his lips as he catches my eye and winks.

"Merlin," Jack mutters. "He's not even being subtle about it. Man, I can't believe he's got the hots for your mum, Mimi."

"He hasn't got the hots for me!" I hiss, feeling mortified.

"They say denial is a river in Egypt." Mia snorts.

I smack her arm and turn my attention back to the game, trying my hardest to understand what is going on.

But it doesn't really matter. Because my eyes only watch one thing.

******

The Wiltshire Wanderers win when Draco catches the Snitch after just forty-five minutes, defeating the Holyhead Harpies spectacularly.

The cheers around the stadium are deafening. I cover my ears, trying desperately not to go deaf.

"They are coming into the box!" Mia screams in my ear. "Oh my god!"

Draco is the last one to enter, smirking from ear to ear, the Snitch still clutched tightly in his fist. He seeks me out almost instantly, his eyes lighting up as soon as they meet mine.

Mia nudges me. "Go over to him, Mum. Congratulate him."

"Don't be stupid." I hiss, "he's here to collect the trophy. Nothing else."

He wins Man of the Match and is asked to share a few words to the awestruck stadium.

"I caught this for someone who has recently come into my life," he says into the microphone as he lifts his still clenched fist, the Snitch's wings visibly fluttering between his fingers. His eyes meet mine again, twinkling. "Very recently."

Oh my fucking god, what is wrong with him? Or with me, as a matter of fact? For I am experiencing a mad fluttering low in my stomach. And I don't want him to stop looking at me. Ever.

Before they leave, Draco walks over to me, and my breath hitches in panic.

"Here," he says handing me the Snitch. "A present from me to say sorry for not being able to make you a cup of tea earlier."

"I can't take this," I say staring down at the fluttering thing in my hand. "I don't even like Quidditch."

"So you said, but I caught it for you, so now it's yours."

"What am I supposed to do with it?" I ask stupidly.

He shrugs, smiling. "Look at it and think of me, of course."

This man is insanely confident. And a little arrogant with his assumption that I would find this flattering. Okay, so I am finding this flattering. Maddeningly so, in fact.

"I am glad I caught you up here," he says, reaching into his pocket. "I've got passes for you, your daughter and her friends. You'll need them to get in to the party later."

He produces four shiny gold VIP passes.

"I said we couldn't go." I say. "They are just fifteen years old. I promised the parents an early night with hot chocolates."