Hogwarts One Shots

Quidditch

The roar of the crowd was deafening as Harry mounted his Firebolt, eyes scanning the packed stands of the Quidditch pitch. It was the first match of the season, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, and the tension between the two teams could have been cut with a knife. Harry could feel the rivalry like a physical force in the air. The sky above them was crisp and clear, the perfect day for Quidditch, but he knew the match would be anything but easy.

Across the field, Harry spotted Draco Malfoy adjusting his gloves, looking smug and overly confident as ever on his Nimbus 2001. His sharp features twisted into a sneer when he caught Harry's eye, and Harry's grip tightened on his broomstick. This wasn't just about the game; it was about everything they'd fought over for years. Pride, competition, and personal grudges hung thick between them.

"Don't let him get in your head, Harry," Amelie Chalice muttered beside him, her voice tense but steady. Amelie was one of Gryffindor's new Chasers, and she had proved herself an absolute force during practices. With her quick reflexes and fierce determination, she fit into the team like she'd been there for years.

Harry nodded, glancing at her. "I won't." But he knew Malfoy was going to try. He always did.

On the Slytherin side, Harry caught a glimpse of Adrian Pucey, the Slytherin Chaser, who was notorious for his dirty play. Pucey was bigger than most of the Gryffindor players, his expression one of grim focus as he hovered near Draco, occasionally looking over at Amelie with something that was more than just competitive interest. Harry wasn't sure if Pucey was annoyed or intrigued by her, but either way, it didn't matter-they had a game to win.

Madam Hooch blew her whistle, and before Harry had a chance to think, the game was on.

The Quaffle shot into the air, and the players burst into motion, zooming toward it in a blur of red and green. Amelie was the first to grab the Quaffle, darting past two Slytherin Chasers with a surprising burst of speed.

"Go, Amelie!" Harry shouted, his eyes scanning the sky for the golden glint of the Snitch as he weaved between players. He saw Malfoy circling above, clearly trying to position himself to spot the Snitch first, but Harry wasn't going to let that happen.

Amelie was dodging like a pro, barely avoiding the Bludger sent her way by the Slytherin Beaters. With fluid precision, she passed the Quaffle to Ginny Weasley, who barrel-rolled past a defender and hurled it through one of the Slytherin goalposts. The Gryffindor stands erupted in cheers.

"One up!" Amelie called triumphantly, grinning as she flew past Harry.

Pucey wasted no time retaliating. The second the Quaffle was back in play, he snagged it from a distracted Ginny and shot forward with brutal efficiency, weaving around the Gryffindor Beaters with ease. His eyes flicked toward Amelie, and with a sudden, unexpected maneuver, he faked left, sending Amelie chasing in the wrong direction before blasting the Quaffle toward the Gryffindor goals.

Harry heard the satisfying smack of the Quaffle hitting Ron's gloves as he made a brilliant save, much to the disappointment of the Slytherins in the stands. But Pucey wasn't finished. He circled around again, faster this time, narrowly avoiding a Bludger as he lined up another shot, only to be intercepted by Amelie, who snatched the Quaffle right out from under his arm.

Pucey gave her a glare that could have killed, but Amelie just grinned and zipped off in the opposite direction.

"Not today, Pucey!" she called, her laughter carrying on the wind.

Meanwhile, Harry's focus narrowed on Malfoy, who was pretending to look for the Snitch but clearly had his attention elsewhere. Malfoy's broom swerved dangerously close to Harry's, and Draco's trademark smirk appeared as he sidled up alongside him in midair.

"Enjoying the view, Potter?" Draco called over the wind, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Don't worry-I'll make this quick."

Harry shot him a withering look. "Don't you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk, Malfoy?"

"I'd ask the same, but you're usually too busy screaming about how 'good' you are," Draco fired back, his eyes flicking around for any sign of the Snitch. "Though it looks like you're off your game today."

"I'm fine," Harry said through gritted teeth, his eyes darting away from Malfoy for a moment, scanning the sky. "Just focus on not embarrassing yourself."

Draco scoffed, but his concentration wavered as both of them caught a flicker of gold near the Gryffindor goals. The Snitch.

In a flash, they both bolted, neck and neck, racing through the pitch as the rest of the game blurred into the background. The wind howled in Harry's ears as he leaned forward on his Firebolt, determined to outfly Malfoy. But Draco was close-too close. They were practically side by side, elbows brushing as they hurtled toward the golden Snitch, which darted and dipped just ahead of them.

"Not today, Potter," Malfoy growled, pushing his broom forward in an attempt to knock Harry off course.

"Back off, Malfoy!" Harry shouted, elbowing him back as they both jostled for position.

Below them, Amelie and Pucey were locked in their own struggle. Amelie had the Quaffle again, and Pucey was doing everything in his power to stop her. He cut her off, forcing her to swerve hard to avoid colliding with him, but Amelie was quicker. She rolled beneath him, narrowly dodging his broom, and shot toward the Slytherin goals, launching the Quaffle with a powerful throw that left the Slytherin Keeper no chance.

"YES!" Amelie yelled as the crowd erupted in cheers, but her celebration was cut short as Pucey flew right up beside her, his face twisted in frustration.

"You're not half as good as you think you are," Pucey snapped, his eyes narrowed as he hovered close.

Amelie gave him a sideways glance, a wicked smile curling on her lips. "Funny, I was just about to say the same to you."

Before Pucey could respond, the air around them seemed to tighten as every spectator's attention snapped back to the Seekers-Harry and Draco were in an all-out battle for the Snitch.

They were so close now, Harry could almost taste victory. The Snitch was just within reach, hovering tantalizingly in front of him, but Malfoy wasn't giving up. Harry gritted his teeth, pushing his Firebolt to its limits, his fingers outstretched. But just as he was about to close his hand around the Snitch, Draco made his move-his broom swerved violently into Harry's side, knocking him off balance.

Harry's vision blurred for a split second as his grip on the broom faltered, but he regained control just in time. He shot Draco a furious look. "Playing dirty again, are we?"

Draco smirked, his voice smooth and irritatingly calm. "All's fair in love and Quidditch, Potter."

Harry rolled his eyes but didn't let himself get distracted. He surged forward one last time, his hand closing around the Snitch with a triumphant snap.

The crowd exploded into cheers, the Gryffindor stands erupting with red and gold banners, as Madam Hooch's whistle blew to signal the end of the match.

Harry grinned, raising the Snitch high above his head, his heart racing with adrenaline and victory. He looked over at Malfoy, who was glaring at him with a mixture of frustration and begrudging respect.

"Looks like I win again, Malfoy," Harry called over the roar of the crowd.

Draco's lips twitched in annoyance, but he gave a small, grudging nod. "Yeah, yeah, Potter. You got lucky. Don't get used to it."

As Harry descended toward the ground, Amelie flew up beside him, her face flushed with exhilaration. "Brilliant catch, Harry! You really showed him."

"Thanks," Harry said, laughing as he noticed the smug look on Pucey's face had disappeared entirely.

Amelie shot a glance back at the Slytherin Chaser, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I think Pucey's going to need a few days to recover from that."

Harry grinned. "Serves him right."

As the Gryffindor team touched down, the pitch alive with cheering students, Harry couldn't help but feel a surge of pride-not just for himself, but for the entire team. It had been a hard-fought match, but Gryffindor had come out on top once again. And as much as Draco Malfoy's snide remarks still lingered in his mind, Harry knew that nothing-not even Malfoy-could take this victory away from them.