Chapter 1
CHAPTER 1 - Ron
A bead of sweat trickled down Ron's freckled skin as he clutched his CleanSweep broom tightly. The cool night air nipped at him as he released a frustrated breath. The snitch he had charmed earlier whizzed past him on the deserted field. The goal post glinted in the moonlight to his side.
One more, he swore to himself. Just one more catch and he would go back. The promise of rest gave him a new surge of energy as he squared himself on his broom. Gripping the crafted oak shaft between his shivering hands he leaned forward. The wind rippled around him as he lurched forward, spiraling himself through the air toward the ball. Gaining ground he forced himself to hurl forward with alarming speed, the ball now just in reach. Itching himself even closer, he could feel his fingers graze the ball. Ron's face contorted in concentration.
I'm so close, he could almost taste victory in his clenched mouth. So close.
"Weasley is our king
He cannot block a single ring
That's why Slytherins all sing
Weasley is our King!"
Ron's head whipped around, breaking focus on the golden ball, as it bounced through the goal post and disappeared from sight. He yelled in anger, as his head spun from one way to the other, searching for the source of the horrendous song. His eyes landed at last on a lone figure on the edge of the pitch.
Ron recognized that easy carefree stance, as the man leaned himself upon his sleek new nimbus two thousand and one. His pointy face sporting a smug grin.
Malfoy.
Ron's insides churned with hatred. He landed with a thud on the solid dirt, marching toward the arrogant Slytherin.
"I bloody had it Malfoy!" He growled, clenching his fists as Malfoy simply laughed in response, his blond hair catching the moonlight.
"I knew you were awful, Weasley," Draco sneered, "but I didn't know you could lose against yourself." He did nothing to hide the smug delight in his voice.
Ron was seething, the bloody prat. He clenched his teeth to hold back the colorful array of insults that threatened to spill off his tongue. Seeing the ball in the corner of his eye, he balled his hands into fists. He pulled out his wand and performed a quick counter curse to stop the snitch from fleeing the field.
I've got enough on my mind with the sodding quidditch match coming, I don't need some blonde git meddling in my business.
"Bold words coming from someone who needed his precious Daddy to buy him a spot on the team," Ron spat as he turned back to face Malfoy. He relished in seeing the agitation flash across his eyes. Ron had struck a nerve, and he knew it.
"Just because your Dad has less gold than Goyle has brains is no reason to go making jealous accusations," Malfoy remarked snidely. He had a smug grin plastered on his face, but Ron knew very well that Malfoy didn't take the insult lightly.
Ron let out a cold chuckle, "Jealous?" He mused. "Of you?? What have I got to be jealous of?" There were mere inches between him and Malfoy now, not that either of them noticed.
"Watch yourself, Weasley," Malfoy threatened, "Or I might not wait until tomorrow to knock you off your crap broom."
Ron wanted nothing more than to grab Malfoys expensive broom and beat him to death with it. "I'd like to see you try, Ferret," He retorted, the thought of the bloody scene in his head gave his voice an edge of amusement.
"Alright then," Malfoy drawled. His voice was so thick with seething rage it sounded closer to parseltongue than English. "Let's do it. Me and you, right here and now."
"Without your lackeys here to protect you?" Ron laughed, the doubt in his voice was unmistakable. He wasn't as smart as Hermione, but he wasn't stupid enough to challenge Malfoy to a match without witnesses around.
"What's wrong, Weasley," Malfoy questioned, with mock innocence. "Scared?"
That's it. Ron thought, blowing all caution to the wind. Every ounce of self preservation seemed to leave him whenever he was with Malfoy. All that was left was anger. I'll bloody show him who's scared. In that moment, he would have done anything to wipe the smug grin off Malfoy's face. And he did.