Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2 - Ron
Pale moonlight flooded the dewy grass covering the castle grounds. Students and teachers rested peacefully in their dorms, completely unaware of the tense showdown happening on the school quidditch field. Two boys glared at each other as they mounted their brooms, eyes never once leaving the other. The night air around them was thick with tension, with nothing but a paralyzed snitch laying between them.
"First one to catch it wins." Reasoned the blond haired boy, an eerie calm in his voice. His eyes still on the red headed boy before him.
Ron gave him a curt nod, willing his face to remain stoic. The last thing he wanted was Malfoy to know he was scared. He willed himself to take a deep breath, pushing himself from the ground. He soared up until the ground below him became a distant sea of green, the other boy close behind.
Ron hadn't heard Malfoy charm the golden snitch to start moving, but he must have. The ball was now zooming around the field at full speed, darting here and there, just out of grasp. Now both level with each other, their intense eye contact regained. Ron could feel his nerves fleeing him. He wouldn't lose. He couldn't.
Without warning Malfoy lurched backwards, swiftly spinning his broom away from Ron and hurling himself through the darkness. A glint of gold in the sky not far ahead of him.
"Wait," Ron bellowed after him. Throwing himself forward, chasing Malfoy as he darted after the winged ball. "You cheat!" He cried, as he fell behind. His CleanSweep was unable to match the pace and precision of his rival's Nimbus two thousand and one. Malfoy was gaining ground, nearly catching the ball before it dropped and darted away. Now was Ron's chance. He could feel it. Determination coursed through his veins as he gripped his broom tighter, angling himself toward the fleeting ball.
He dashed after it, dodging empty stands. Weaving left and right, his hand outstretched before him as he gained speed. He risked a glance backwards, seeing Malfoy less than 10 paces behind him. His blond hair whipping around his head in every direction, his face contorted in complete concentration. Without warning, he dipped downward, hurling himself toward the ground. Confusion clouded Ron's face, turning back towards the ball he realized it wasn't there anymore. Bloody bollocks! He cursed. He didn't have to see the snitch to know Malfoy had caught it, his victorious hoots were enough. It made Ron's stomach curl. He had lost. To Malfoy.
He froze mid air, shock crippling him. How could he have lost to bloody Malfoy! Ron began to shake, his whole body shuddered as he struggled to stay on his broom. His vision began to go blurry. He lost. It was the only thought in his mind, replaying over and over. He lost. Ron was quite sure he could have sat there until morning, with only the one thought racing through his mind. It was Malfoy's laughter that brought him back to reality. Devastating reality. He had lost.
"Don't be so hard on yourself," Malfoy cooed in false sincerity. "It's like my Dad always says, some wizarding families are just better. And let's be honest, the Weasleys aren't exactly.." but Malfoy never got to finish his sentence. Ron, face contorted in absolute hatred, had lunged forward toward Malfoy. He had caught him off guard and collided with such force they both were knocked breathless. Malfoys grip on his sleek broom faltered, the shock evident on his face, as he plummeted into the darkness. Lower and lower.
The shock of what Ron had done took a second to settle in. By the time the horror struck him, he knew it was too late. He raced after Malfoys falling figure, arms outstretched to catch him. He was too late.
Malfoy had hit the ground with such force he couldn't even scream. He couldn't do anything. Pain enveloped his every nerve, lighting his body on fire. Something was wrong with his leg. He could feel it. Ron landed with a thud a few feet from Malfoy's body. Scrambling toward the barely conscious boy, his hands covered his mouth in shock. He was going to be sick.
Draco's leg was bent in odd angles, his ankle nearly touching his thigh. Pain and panic enveloped his usually stoic expression, as he his hands grasped out for Ron, clutching his shirt.
"It hurts," he cried out. His eyes shut tightly, lips quivering. "Ron, it hurts." His body shook violently as a strangled sob escaped, nails digging into Rons skin. All Ron could do was stare in horror at what he had done. The pain he had caused. He had always thought he would love to see Malfoy in pain, but now he couldn't bear it.
"Please," Draco begged, still shaking violently. " Make it stop, please." It had been Malfoys pain stricken voice that had brought Ron back to reality. He racked his brain for ideas. Anything. Anything to help the sobbing boy before him. He had never seen Draco in such agony, and it terrified him.
Chocolate! He thought. He couldn't heal the shattered leg, but he could ease the pain. He shakily removed Draco's clawing hands from his arms, and rushed off to his bag along the outskirts of the Field. Hermione had made him pack chocolate if he insisted on practicing late each night just in case. Thank Merlin, for her. He secured the chocolate in his hand and rushed back to Malfoys body, tripping along the way.
Draco was exactly as Ron had left him, withering on the ground. Ron sat himself beside his body and shakily unwrapped the medical treat. He hesitantly reached his hand towards Draco's face. Cupping his cheek gently, he used his thumb to pry open his quivering mouth. Draco's eyes flew open at the physical contact. His eyes were wide with terror, drinking in the view of a concerned Ron above him.
"Relax." Ron had meant it to be soothing, but the tremor in his voice made it anything but. His eyes darted from Draco's face to leg, quickly looking away. He gingerly grabbed a small piece of chocolate and placed it in Draco's mouth.
"Eat it," his voice was firmer this time. He knew what he was doing.
Draco flinched away, "My father will hear about this!" Ron didn't think the threat held as much weight as Draco thought it did. His voice sounded terrified. Ron could hardly blame him.
"Oh just bloody eat the chocolate!" He exaggerated. He expected Draco to spit the chocolate out, to yell at him, call him a blood traitor, but he didn't. He listened. Slowly he swallowed the chocolate and his body began to relax. "More," Ron whispered, eyes darting from Draco's tear stained eyes to his parted lips. Hand still cupping his cheek he fed another piece of chocolate to him.
Half an hour had passed as Ron continued cupping Draco's face in his hands, feeding him chocolate. He had sent a message to Madam Pomfrey, nothing in detail, just that Draco had broken his leg on the quidditch field, and to send help.
Now he just needed to wait. He hated waiting.
Draco was half unconscious, eyes fluttering open and closed. He looked more relaxed now, his face peaceful as the early morning sun began to flutter across the field. Ron hated to admit it, but he understood why girls liked him. Draco was beautiful.
Ron didn't know how or when it had happened, but Draco was clutching his hand. Weirdly enough, he didn't mind.
As the shock began to wear off, realization struck Ron. He had thrown Malfoy from his broom. Malfoy was going to tell, there was no way he wouldn't.
Ron was going to be expelled.