Gryffindor v. Slytherin
A cheering pitch
“And the Quaffle is taken immediately by–”
Flashes of reds and greens, gold and silver
“GRYFFINDOR SCORES!”
Brooms zooming past the stands
Hair catching on roaring wind
“ — was that the snitch?”
WHAM!
A jerking broom, going higher and higher
A figure dangles from the broom with only one hand
It goes higher and higher
And–
And–
It’s Potter
~1~
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Somewhere in Scotland, Grand Staircase - 9 November, 1991
Draco grumbled slightly as he made his way to the hall, trailing behind Pansy and Blaise which seemed to be happening more often than not, it felt like. His eyes were dry and only half open, due to his lack of sleep the previous night. It was another vision, however this time it woke him up at about 3 am. He hadn’t been able to go back to sleep, the image of Potter barely hanging onto his broom fresh in his mind.
If he was more awake he would probably be a bit more concerned about how close the visions seemed to be, only being 9-ish days apart. However he was not, so it was only a passing thought in his sluggish mind, nothing that he paid much attention to.
Pansy and Blaise were talking about… something. Draco couldn’t really process their words properly at the moment, so it just sounded like complete gibberish. Nor did he really care much to pay attention.
His brain barely even registered that they were walking through the already opened doors to the Great Hall. That is until his feet seemed to freeze and a certain familiar feeling seemed to fill his chest. His mind barely understood but his body certainly did as his head lifted and his eyes instantly found Potter.
Pansy and Blaise seemed to continue on, not even noticing Draco freezing, their voices getting very slightly farther away, probably continuing to the Slytherin table. Not that Draco paid it much mind.
Once again his body was way ahead of his mind, already moving towards Potter before he could even register what was happening. As he approached he vaguely heard another Gryffindor say, “Harry, you need your strength. Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team.”
“Thanks Seamus,” Potter mumbled as he vaguely pushed some sausages around on his plate.
“Potter.” Draco called as he stopped behind Potter. It felt like he wasn’t in his own mind, like he was watching outside of his body. Many people quieted immediately when they heard his voice, and multiple pairs of eyes turned to look at Draco, including Potter.
“Draco? What’s up?” Potter asked curiously.
“I-” Draco blinked and finally came back to himself, realised where he was standing, what he was doing. A Slytherin in a lion's den, surrounded by them when a battle of brooms was due to take place in barely an hour.
He realised how stupid this was, how thoughtless of a move it was to walk up to Potter in front of all these people. But the nagging feeling made his lip twitch and his throat close slightly. He needed to say something. But… what?
“I… Have a safe match, Potter.” He said, but the feeling was still there. “Don’t get ‘clobbered’ out there.” He tried to fake a smirk, tried to act like he wasn’t being overwhelmed.
“Oh, thanks.” Potter said, beginning to turn around and back to playing with the sausages on his plate.
“Be careful.” The words burst from his lips before he turned on his heel and quickly rushed to the Slytherin table without looking back. In fact he even sat on the opposite side he usually did, sitting with his back to the Gryffindor table.
“What was that, Dray?” Pansy asked curiously from the other side.
“Nothing.” He glared, immediately filling his plate and trying to ignore the bloody idiots.
“Oh really? I don’t think Potter thinks it’s nothing.” Blaise said with a smirk as he looked around Draco to look at the Lions. “In fact it looks like you just made his day.”
“Shut it, you- you Clabbert!” Draco huffed as he turned his nose up to them.
Both Pansy and Blaise laughed at him though, and even the usually quiet Theo chuckled along. ‘Rotten little snakes.’ He grumbled internally for a moment before beginning to pile some food onto his plate.
~2~
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Somewhere in Scotland, Quidditch Pitch Stands - 9 November, 1991
Draco and the Slytherin’s made themselves comfortable in the Slytherin section of the stands, which was filled to the brim with students. They had gotten excellent seats, though, despite how cramped it was. They were right in front and at the railings, Pansy on his left and Theo on his right.
The teams had yet to come out yet, but the energy of the pitch and stands were contagious. It made his nerves mix with the excitement of seeing his first school Quidditch match. He could almost ignore his impending sense of dread. Almost.
“Oh I’m so excited! I get to try out my new omnioculars that Father got me!” Pansy gushed as she showed off her intricately designed, silver omnioculars.
“That’s nice, Pans.” Draco waved off.
He could only hope his “warning” was enough.
“WELCOME!” A loud, unfamiliar voice called from the announcers box, making Draco glance over to the surprisingly close box and see the third year Gryffindor boy that was often seen with the Weasley twins. He also noticed Mcgonagall was standing close to the young announcer, seemingly watching over him.
“Welcome to the opening game of this Quidditch season! Slytherin vs Gryffindor!” The Lions easily roared when their house’s name was called, but the Slytherin’s only got a minimally louder from their already loud volume.
“First we welcome in the- ugh, Slytherin team.” The announcer gagged, his bias already showing. Draco glanced around and saw many scowling and glaring at him. “They have Miles Bletchley as Keeper, Terrence Higgs as Seeker, Marianne Trevelyan & Hector Grimble as Beaters, and Eleanor Wexley, Adrian Pucey, & Marcus Flint are all Chasers. Marcus Flint being in his first year as captain.” As he called their names the team stepped out and onto the field, looking focused and straight ahead.
When he was finished the announcer audibly perked up as the Gryffindor team strutted out, waving to the Gryffindor stands. “Next we have Oliver Wood as keeper, of course, and who is in his first year as captain! Then we then have Harry Potter as Seeker! Youngest one in a century you know~?” The announcer laughed before continuing, “up next in are the famous, the illustrious, the mischief duo, the-”
“Get on with it Jordan!” McGonagall snapped at him, her voice picking up as well in the announcers booth.
“Alright, alright, Fred and George Weasley as the Gryffindor Beaters. And finally we have Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, & Katie Bell as the Chasers.” The announcer, Jordan, quickly finished, sounding sheepish.
Draco watched as both teams stood across from each other on the field, a person in white and black robes standing between them. “This match will be refereed by Madam Hooch, our very own flying instructor!” Jordan helpfully supplied just as Draco wondered.
“Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you,” Hooch called from the pitch, her voice probably being amplified by a Sonorus spell. Both captains stepped forward and shook hands, although even Draco could tell it was far from friendly, despite how far away he was. The captains stepped back and all the players got into the positions.
“Mount your broomsticks, please.”
All of the players mounted their brooms, Potter looking a bit less practised when getting onto his Nimbus Two Thousand.
Finally Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle, causing fifteen brooms to rise up, high, high into the air. Soon after she threw the Quaffle into the air and they were off.
“And the Quaffle is taken immediately into possession by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor – what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too –”
Draco was immediately horrified at seeing the stark difference of commentary when it came to a professional vs school Qudditch match.
“JORDAN!”
“Sorry, Professor.”
McGonagall sounded like she agreed, too.
“And she’s really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood’s, last year only a reserve – back to Johnson and – no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes – Flint flying like an eagle up there – he’s going to sc- no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle – that’s Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and –
“OUCH – that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger – Quaffle taken by the Slytherins – that’s Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he’s blocked by a second Bludger – sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can’t tell which – nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes – she’s really flying – dodges a speeding Bludger – the goal posts are ahead – come on, now, Angelina – Keeper Bletchley dives – misses – GRYFFINDORS SCORE!”
Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, while Draco booed and the other Slytherin’s howled and moaned.
Despite his disappointment, however, Draco turned his eyes higher and spotted Potter doing a few loop-the-loops in the air. ‘ Show off’ He thought and barely held back a chuckle.
Potter soon returned to simply making laps around the pitch, seemingly looking for the tell tale sign of a flash of gold. However he was quickly interrupted in his search when a bludger came pelting his way.
Panic seized Draco’s lungs for a moment, thinking that his vision was coming true when- well, when Potter simply dodged the bludger. One of the Weasley twins, who had been chasing after said bludger, quickly hit it with his bat towards Flint.
“Slytherin in possession,” Jordan was saying, bringing Draco back to the rest of the game, “Chaser Pucey ducks two bludgers, two Weasley’s, and Chaser Bell, and speeds towards the — wait a minute — was that the snitch?”
A murmur ran through the crowd as Pucey dropped the quaffle, trying to catch a glimpse at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.
Draco just barely saw it, and sat up a bit more as he saw Potter dived downward after the streak of gold. Unluckily for Gryffindor, he wasn’t the only one on the pitch who had noticed. Terrance Higgs, the Slytherin Seeker, had seen it too.
The two seekers were neck and neck as they hurtled towards the snitch — all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in midair to watch.
Potter was faster than Higgs, though, and somehow he seemed to go even faster with a sudden burst of speed–
WHAM!
A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindor’s below — Marcus Flint had stolen a bat from one of the beaters and had recklessly blocked Potter. Draco watched with bated breath as Potter hung onto the broom and spun off course, just barely being able to straighten out his broom.
“FOUL!” Screamed the Gryffindor’s, who were seemingly stomping their feet in anger, all but calling for blood.
Hooch quickly flagged Flint down and seemed to be yelling at him, and in the end gave Gryffindor one free shot at the goal post. Some part of Draco wanted to be angry, to be upset, as many other Slytherin’s seemed to be. However that part was drowned out by his worry, worry that his vision would come true and once again he could do nothing to change it.
‘But you have changed it before’ a small voice whispered into his brain, to which he quickly shook his head and tried not dwelling on that thought any longer.
He brought his focus back to the game, which seemed to have gone back to what it was before Potter and Higgs saw the snitch, since it was lost in all the confusion.
“So — after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating —”
“Jordan!” Growled Professor McGonagal, at least she was trying to pretend she wasn’t biassed.
“I mean, after that open and revolting foul —”
“ Jordan, I’m warning you — ”
“All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, Potter, which could happen to anyone, I’m sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession.”
And so the game continues on.
A chill in the air makes Draco pull his coat and scarf a bit closer as he shivers. Then a very quiet laugh comes from beside him, making his head turn to see it was Theo.
Theo, who had been busy sketching away in his little sketchbook, seemingly drawing little players that seemed to fly around the page, instead of actually watching the game.
“Now you’re making fun of me too, Theo? Pans and Blaise are a bad influence, you know.” Draco huffed and tried to flip his hair slightly, only for the wind to change completely and blow his hair straight into his eyes.
The action seemed to make Theo laugh more, although it stayed very quiet. “They are.” Theo’s words just barely reached his ears, that’s how softly they were said.
But then a cheer startled Draco and Theo out of their short and quiet conversation, making both jump and look quickly out and into the pitch. The sight made Draco’s stomach curl.
“Slytherin in possession — Flint with the Quaffle — passes Spinner — passes Bell — hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose — only joking Professor — Slytherin scores — oh no…”
The familiar sight of Potter’s broom lurching back and forth, swaying uncontrollably. But unlike his dream it was real, oh so real. No one seemed to notice anything was amiss, other than Draco. He gasp and covered his mouth in horror, feeling hopeless.
The broom carried its rider slowly higher and higher, however sometimes it would stutter and randomly fall a couple of feet before stopping and continuing higher.
But then it got worse as the broom began to roll over and over, making Potter hold on with both hands in what looked like a very tight grip.
But then Potter couldn't hold on with both and was left dangling by one hand from his broom. The whole crowd finally seemed to notice and gasped, although Draco could faintly hear some laughing and cheering from a few of the Slytherin’s behind him. Among them he heard comments, questions…
“What’s happening?”
“Has he lost control?”
“This is why a first year student shouldn't play quidditch, especially a half-blood like Potter.”
Suddenly, Draco got the- the feeling .
Without thinking he snatches the omnioculars right out of Pansy’s hands.
“Hey!” Pansy whined.
“I need them, Pans, give me a moment.” He snapped back, his tone serious and biting, which by some miracle somehow made her stop and not question him.
He looked through them and quickly did a sweep around the pitch and the stands, zooming in as close as he could until his eyes found the teacher’s box.
‘What am I even looking for..? Think Draco, think. Maybe a spell? Someone would need to at least be mouthing the words, no one could be doing a jinx like that wordlessly— There!’ Draco zoomed in the omnioculars as much as he could before turning a dial to replay the moment before.
And there it was, Quirrel mouthing words that Draco couldn’t make out, the usually meek and annoying Professor looking at Potter with determination and not breaking eye contact.
“I knew it.” Draco whispered to himself as he reset the dials and brought the omnioculars down, narrowing his eyes at Quirrell. “He’s jinxing the broom.”
“Who?”
Draco nearly jumped out of his skin as he looked at Theo again, startled. “I–” His eyes darted back to the teacher’s stand.
“I need to go.” Draco said suddenly before shoving the omnioculars back into Pansy’s hands and running through the aisle seating, practically pushing many Slytherin’s out of his way in the process.
He all but flew down the stairs, and if he wasn’t so focused he would probably be marvelling over the fact that he didn’t trip.
Everything in his body was screaming at him, everything was yelling and fighting and clawing and- ‘I can’t let Potter die.’
In the blink of an eye he was carefully yet quickly walking underneath the seats of the teacher’s section.
He could faintly hear Jordan continuing his commentary as he looked through rows and rows of Professor’s, looking for Quirrell.
“Potter must have lost control — it looks like Fred and George are gonna try and help him off but they can’t quite get him.”
Finally Draco found the Professor’s feet, however Draco didn’t even know what to do, how could he stop Quirrell?
“To break a curse, you simply need to break the user's concentration.” Draco faintly remembered from Charms.
‘Break his concentration?’ Draco didn’t put another thought into it before taking out his wand and pointing it at Quirrell's feet.
“ Tarantallegra” Draco whispered with a smirk as he flicked his wand in the correct motion from the charms textbook.
And just like that Quirrell’s feet began to jerk and twitch, making him get up and dance a little jig.
Draco almost laughed at the irony before he turned to go make his way back to his seat, only to freeze as he saw Granger standing at the entrance he just came from. She was clearly out of breath, panting slightly as she held a jar that held bright blue flames which swirled within the confines of the glass.
“Why so slow, Granger?” Draco laughed, although now that the feeling had disappeared he was suddenly just as out of breath.
He heard a commotion above him, no doubt Quirrell had knocked some people over with his furious dancing.
“The Gryffindor stand is farther away.” She wheezed as she leaned slightly against a support beam, making a chuckle burst from his lips.
It was then that Jordan continued his commentary.
“Finally! Potter has gotten his broom back into sorts — oh but not for long as he speeds towards the ground and —”
Draco quickly whipped his head around, trying to see if he could see what was happening through the small space between the seats of the teacher’s stands. However, he couldn't see anything, although he could hear Granger rushing to try and do the same.
“Potter lands on the pitch a bit roughly but looks safe, medical staff are heading down now — oh Merlin he looks like he’s gonna hurl!”
Draco’s eyes widened slightly, grateful for a moment that he had the most awful view of the pitch–
“Wait no! Potter’s done it! He caught — or really almost swallowed — the snitch! Gryffindor wins 170 to 60!”
‘Wait–’
“What?”
~3~
After that very.. Interesting end to the match, the two first years fled the scene of the teacher’s box before any of the professor’s could spot them. After they made it down the stairs they were easily swept up and into the crowd of students who were leaving the stadium and making their way back to the castle.
Draco has the passing thought of heading back to the Slytherin dorms and meeting back up with the Slytherin’s, perhaps offer some form of explanation for running off. However, Granger obviously had other plans and grabbed him by the arm, practically dragging him with her.
As they rushed off Draco could vaguely hear Flint practically howling in rage, “He didn’t even catch it, he nearly swallowed it!”
They met up with Weasley, who was practically vibrating with anticipation and energy but as soon as he saw them his face turned from excited to extremely confused.
“Hermione what is he-”
“Shh!” Granger shushed, “I’ll explain at Hagrid’s.”
And just like that, before Draco could tell you what was happening, he was sitting on an uncomfortable wooden bench at a large round table and had a very large mug of strong, steaming, black tea thrust into his hands by the drunkard giant.
Absent-mindedly he noted that the mug had a little Ukrainian Ironbelly that was breathing swarms of fire on it. He rubbed his finger against the head of the dragon, making it try to bite his finger to no avail.
It was only when he glanced up that he snapped out of his stupor as he saw the Gryffindor’s all staring at him with expecting eyes. “What?” He questioned, scowling slightly.
“I was telling them about how you were already at the Teacher’s box by the time I got there, and we’re all curious about, well —”
“How did you know?!” Weasley bursts out, interrupting Granger, who threw a glare at him.
Draco raised an eyebrow and scoffed slightly. “Honestly, Weasley, don't you pay attention in class? It was obvious that the broom was being cursed, all I had to do was look around and it was obvious who the culprit was.”
Weasley rolled his eyes but surprisingly didn't comment. “Really, the key is breaking the caster's concentration, so all I did was..” Draco smirked, “cast the dancing jinx on him!”
The memory made him just laugh, raising his nose high into the air, however it was interrupted when Potter asked. “But who jinxed my broom?”
‘How rude!’ Draco thought, especially since no one laughed with him, but he sighed, deciding to be the bigger person, again .
“It was–”
“Snape! It was Snape!”
“ Excuse me?! No it wasn’t!” Draco snapped at Weasley quickly, staring at him incredulously. “It was Quirrell who I jinxed!”
“Quirrell?!” Weasley explained.
“No, no. Ronald is right, surprisingly, it was Snape!” Granger chimed in, making him turn his eyes to her.
The ginger threw Granger a bit of a look at the jab but surprisingly didn't stick on it for long, “Hermione and I saw him. He was cursing Harry’s broomstick, muttering and not taking his eyes off him.” Weasley explained, sticking to his very wrong view of what had happened.
“So was Quirrell!” Draco pointed out right back, but was ignored.
“Rubbish,” said the drunkard, who hadn’t said a word this entire time “Why would Snape do somethin’ like tha’?”
“Exactly! It makes no sense!” As much as Draco hated to agree with the drunkard he was the only other one making sense at the moment. “He may not like you, Potter, but murder is a very large step!”
The three Gryffindor’s glanced at one another for a moment, seemingly having a silent conversation.
“I found out something about him,” Potter finally said after a moment, looking at Draco and the gamekeeper. “He tried to get past the three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding.”
The half giant dropped the, thankfully empty, teapot at that, looking very worried and shocked. “How do ye know ‘bout Fluffy?” He asked urgently.
“ Fluffy? ” Weasley asked incredulously.
“That thing has a name?” Granger asked, her eyes practically bulging out of her head.
“Well o’ course! He's mine af’er all, bought ‘im off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las’ year — I leant him to Dumbledore to guard the —”
“Yes?” Potter pressed eagerly, far too much.
‘ Do none of them even know how to get information? Gryffindor's.’ Draco rolled his eyes and decided to take pity on them, even if he wished he could curse them for accusing his Godfather.
“Now, now, that isn't our business. We shouldn't be pressing…” ‘What was his name again?’ “..him to tell us anything! Dumbledore trusted him enough to let him help! It isn't our place to be betraying that trust!” Draco said, sticking his nose in the air, biting back a smirk.
The Gryffindor’s all looked at Draco with wide, disbelieving eyes. However the gamekeeper seemed to inflate with pride. “Exactly! Thank ya, Draco! Now, listen the me, the four o' yeh – yer meddlin’ in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. Yeh forget that dog, an’ you forget what it's guardin’, that's between Professor Dumbedore an’ Nicolas Flamel —” He cut himself off, scowling slightly. “Oh ya sneaky Slytherin!” He wagged a large finger at Draco, looking furious with himself.
Draco smirked at the compliment, “Now that that is settled, let's get back to how ridiculous it is that Snape was trying to kill Potter.” Then he took a sip of tea unthinkingly, only to spit it out.
“BLEH!”
~4~
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Somewhere in Scotland - 9 November, 1991
“We still all agree it was Snape, Draco.” Granger pointed out as they all made the trek back from the hut. Walking beside Draco while Weasley and Potter walked behind them.
“Well too bad because I jinxed Quirrell, so explain how that ended Snape’s supposed spell.” Draco pointed out right back, still trying to get the taste of that disgusting tea from his mouth.
“Well when Quirrell started making a fuss he did knock over a bunch of other teacher's, he probably knocked over Snaps or made him look away!” Weasley gave from behind.
The entire group stopped as Draco and Granger turned to one another, glaring as their argument got more and more heated.
“Exactly! And he was making all of the exact signs of cursing! He wasn't blinking at all!”
“Neither was Quirrell! Snape was probably doing a counter curse or something!”
“Now that is just ridiculous!”
“Okay okay! Stop it!” Potter finally intervened, stepping forward a bit more to put himself between Draco and Granger. “It doesn't matter who it was! It's just obvious that Snape tried to get past Fluffy! We need to figure out what that dog is protecting.”
Draco and Granger both huffed, crossing their arms and glaring at one another. “Fine.” Draco finally gave, turning his head and looking away, despite really wanting to continue fighting for his Godfather's honour.
“Does anyone know who Nicholas Flammel is? I feel like I've read that name before.” Potter asked, looking between Weasley, Granger and Draco. Weasley simply shrugged while Granger quietly admitted she didn't.
“Hmph, I do.” Draco gave, looking to Potter, “He's a famous alchemist and inventor who's been alive since the 14th Century.”
“So Fluffy’s protecting something he made?” Granger hypothesised.
“Most likely, yes, but he created so many things that it would be difficult to figure out what it could possibly be.” The Slytherin said as he began to walk again, spurring the others into following.
“There has to be some way for us to figure it out!” Weasley said optimistically.
“Yeah! There's gotta be like- books about him and his alchemy, right?” Potter gave as he looked from Draco to Granger.
“It is quite likely.” Granger supplied.
“But it's also just as likely that it's in the restricted section.” Draco threw over his shoulder as they finally made it to the castle, which wasn't much warmer than the freezing outside, however at least there wasn't any wind.
“The restricted section?” Potter questioned, his curiosity evident in his tone.
“The restricted section is basically a section of the library that is usually magically locked. The only way to get in is if you have a signed letter from a teacher.” Granger explained.
“Perfect! So let's just get a teacher to sign a slip!” Weasley said, pumping a fist into the air.
“Except it's very rare for a first year to get permission to, it's full of very dangerous spells and books! And even if we did, we would be watched by Madam Pince the entire time.” Draco explained more, shutting down that idea quickly as they walked into the grand staircase.
The group stopped for a moment, looking at one another for a moment. “We can't tell anyone.” Potter said, looking at all of them with an air of seriousness.
Granger and Weasley immediately nodded before all three of them looked at Draco, waiting.
Draco blinked before sighing and finally nodding, “Fine, I won't tell anyone, even if I think you all are mental for thinking Snape could do something so awful.”
“You can't blame us when the evidence is so damning, Malfoy.” Weasley rolled his eyes. It was only through sheer force of will that he was able to control himself from snapping back.
He couldn't, however, stop himself from scowling. “Whatever.” Draco said before turning and beginning his trek down the stairs and into the dungeon.
“Hey! Wait, Draco!”
Draco turned back, only a few steps down the stairs, and saw Potter standing at the top.
“Thanks for saving me!” Potter grinned before turning and followed Granger and Weasley, who were waiting on the steps going up the tower.
‘I did something.’
The thought felt like an arrow through his brain, that he had actually, truly done something. He had saved someone, had saved Potter.
As he began to start walking down the stairs again he couldn't help but grin, despite Slytherin losing, despite his Godfather being blamed while Quirrell was still out there… he had done something.
He had really changed the future.