Poison Ivy || Draco Malfoy

6 - Seeker Surprises

It was in my fourth year when I finally joined the Quidditch team.

"To be honest," Graham Montague, the extremely burly Slytherin Captain, grunted as he looked me derisively up and down, "I was planning on having Crabbe and Goyle as my Beaters."

"Can't I at least tryout?" I asked, feeling slightly affronted. Bar Draco, it was quite clear that Montague just wanted muscle on his team. "I'm a good flyer and I can aim pretty well with the bat."

Montague cocked an eyebrow, looking mildly impressed by my confidence. "Go on then, we'll get the team together to play a few games. See how you fair against Dumb and Dumber."

And so I did. And I easily outflew both Crabbe and Goyle who both kept crashing into one another. Okay, so I couldn't whack the Bludger as hard as they were able to, but at least I managed to aim it exactly where I wanted it to go; Goyle somehow knocked down one of the goal hoops by slamming a Bludger into it, and Crabbe actually let his bat go flying from his hand which narrowly missed Draco's head who was distractedly searching for the Snitch.

"I still think I'll go for Crabbe and Goyle." Montague decided afterwards. "Better luck next year, Parkinson."

"But I played loads better!" I said indignantly.

"Maybe true, but you're a little blood traitor and I won't have them on my team!"

Angry, humiliated tears pricked behind my eyes as I turned my back on the sniggering team and started to head defeatedly back towards the changing rooms.

I was about halfway across the pitch when the sound of an angry voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Come on Montague, you know she's the better choice!"

The words made me freeze in my path. My heart hammered in my chest as I slowly turned around.

Draco had landed in front of Montague; his face looking thunderous as he pleaded my case.

"She's not a real Slytherin," Montague sneered, talking as if I wasn't still within earshot, "and she's always hanging around with that blood traitor, Weasley."

"Don't you want to win the Quidditch cup this year?" Draco snarled angrily. "Crabbe and Goyle will make laughing stocks of us! Parkinson is good, I was watching her and she by far outranked both of those buffoons!"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing; Draco was actually sticking up for me. Yet both of them continued, neither of them showing no sign that they realised I was still even there.

"Oh, and this has nothing to do with the fact that you're knobbing her sister?" Montague scoffed. "I don't give out favours, Malfoy. And I certainly don't have blood traitors on my team."

"Why the fuck did you let her tryout then if you had no intention of letting her join?"

"Why'd you think?" Montague chuckled sinisterly, "she ain't a bad looking witch; wanted something fresh for the wank bank-"

If he had anything more to add then we didn't get to hear it because Draco's fist had connected into the side of his jaw.

Later on in the common room, Draco approached me.

"Good news, Parkinson," he drawled lazily, his grey eyes twinkling against the firelight as they fixed down upon me, "Montague's agreed for you to be on reserve. He'd tell you himself but his jaw is currently out of action. Training sessions are every Wednesday evening and Sunday morning, starting tomorrow. Don't let me down."

"I- I won't," I stammered, unable to quite believe what I was hearing. I was still in shock after witnessing what Draco had done for me, and now this. "Thank you."

He gave me a brief, comradely nod of the head before striding purposefully away towards the dormitories.

A sort of fuzzing sensation started off in my stomach and spread throughout my entire body, leaving me feeling as though I was bathed in a warm, ethereal glow.

Don't let me down, he had said. Not the team, not Slytherin, not Montague.

Me.

*****

Despite only being a reserve Beater, I got to play my first game sooner than expected.

"Crabbe's somehow managed to get an unstoppable nosebleed," Montague fumed as he approached me at the breakfast table the morning of the Slytherin match against Gryffindor. "So it looks like you're up, Parkinson."

Panic flew to my chest, causing my heart to rise up into my mouth. As much as I had wanted to play, I suddenly felt terrified and unprepared.

"Relax, you'll be fine," a voice chuckled from across the table.

I looked up to be met with a pair of glinting grey eyes; the amusement in them making my stomach knot in all kind of different ways. The way he was looking at me was not unkind to say the least; but encouraging, warm, even.

"You're playing in the match?" Pansy spluttered incredulously, who was sat next to him as she looked horrified at me, her eyes darting furtively back up to Draco as if hoping he was going to tell her it was all just some sick joke.

"I'm on reserve, Pansy," I gritted through clenched teeth. "You know that, I've told you enough times."

"Pah; reserve!" Pansy scoffed, "it's just another way to say that you're too shit to get on the team."

"Come on, Parkinson," Draco smirked, clearly enjoying this as he got to his feet. "Let's get you down to the changing rooms. There's a little song I need to teach you before we go on. It'll at least help to calm your nerves."

Pansy's mouth hung open stupidly when she realised he was talking to me and not her.

*****

"I'm not singing that and I'm not wearing this!" I seethed, furiously slapping the little crown-shaped badge back into Draco's hand.

Draco just raised his eyebrows at me in such a cocky and confident manner that for the first time in my life I actually felt the itch to slap my hand across his arrogant face.

"Oh you will, Parkinson," he smirked, "you're a Slytherin. And I've gone to great lengths to get you here right now. It isn't a coincidence that Crabbe is currently in the hospital wing being treated for severe blood loss."

"Why?" I spluttered, "why would you do that when you know Crabbe would have been more than happy to sing your stupid song?"

"Because I actually believe you make a good Beater and god damn it I want to win the Quidditch cup and wipe that smug expression off Potter's stupid face!"

"I'm not going to participate in making fun of my best friend's brother just so that you can lord it over someone who you've clearly got an unhealthy obsession with!"

"HE'S ACCUSING MY FATHER OF BEING A-A-" he spluttered, seemingly not being able to say the words out loud.

I met his eyes and they seem to flicker in mine; the silence falling between us suddenly thick with dangerous knowing. I knew the truth; most Slytherins did. Especially us pure-bloods.

The room filled only with the sounds of our fierce breaths, our chests steadily rising and falling. And in that moment I was aware of how much I wanted him; of how much I had always wanted him.

But it didn't matter how much I wanted him because he was, of course, my sister's boyfriend.

So, breaking the tension, I grabbed my broomstick and strode towards the exit before pausing and turning to glare defiantly at him.

"Screw the badge and screw the song." I spoke indignantly, my voice unwavering and apologetic.

And, without another word, I marched out, leaving him standing there alone.

*****