sparks~drarry

The Golden Touch of a Seeker

Description: Draco challenges Harry to a midnight Seeker's match (Harry's POV)

Warnings: None

Notes: Credit to @myidiosyncrasy for the amazing idea!

Song: Hurricane by Halsey

Length: 1.2k words
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Harry's POV

The peculiar note had only five words on it, excluding the delicate signature at the bottom:

Midnight, Quidditch pitch. Bring people.

And, that little, strange piece of parchment had been signed with a name that sent chills down my spine.

Draco Malfoy.

Why chills? Well, you see, to be clear.... Those chills were not of fear but rather signified the unfortunately large crush I had developed on the silver haired boy around fifth year.

Why him? I had no idea. Perhaps it was his stunningly good looks, sudden kindness and peace after the war, or the fact that he smiled at everyone in the halls, even if they snarled back. Yes, he still flinched at raised hands and flicked wands and all sorts of things that would pass by the average magical student. But Draco Malfoy was not the average magical student.

So, there I stood, at the center of the Quidditch pitch, with the entireties of houses Hufflepuff and Gryffindor lounging at the edge of the pitch. Across from us, Draco's cashmere lips were curled in a playful smile as he watched the Slytherins and Ravenclaws behind him talk in hushed tones.

"Draco." I called out, my voice echoing in the expanse of the field.

He glanced at me.

"Yes?"

"Are we going to begin?"

The rest of the houses had gone silent, at that point. The Ravenclaws looked mildly uninterested, and yet, you could see the curiosity and passionate excitement smoldering in their eyes. The Slytherins were drumming their fingers and tapping their feet, their faces twisted in a pleasant anxiety. The Hufflepuffs were mostly talking amongst themselves, but a large portion of them stared intensely at Draco, smiles set onto their faces. The Gryffindors were hooting and hollering, beating their feet and screaming with joy.

"Sure." He called, and, without waiting for me, motioned for one of his fellow Slytherins to release the Snitch.

My eyes widening, I leapt onto my broom and took off into the air, my eyes on the glimmering wings of the little round ball that glimmered faintly in the moonlight.

That slight detail ran through my mind just as Draco met me at the center of the pitch, his lips caught in a lazy smile.

"Catch me if you can, Potter." He whispered, and dove, me tailing him.

The Snitch was down at the center goalpost.

My heart sped, and I headed towards the right to throw off Draco, but he didn't take the bait, instead circling the three goalposts as I stalled. And, instead of waiting any longer, just as he turned his head, I lunged towards the Snitch.