Captured By A Dragon

Chapter Two: At The Quidditch Pitch

"Quidditch shall begin early this year, students!"

Breakfast had merely begun ten minutes before. Dumbledore was standing superiorly at the Staff Table, surveying them all through his half-moon spectacles, his blue eyes twinkling. Every student merely gaped at him, trying to absorb what he had just said. Quidditch - early? Quidditch season had always started in November, why the sudden the eagerness to start it two months before it regularly took place? No one said a word, however, and let him continue, listening intently.

"The professors and I," said Dumbledore, "have discussed this matter rather sporadically, but it has come to a decision that under the circumstances of upcoming weather, we would like to make sure the safety of our House team players is unquestionable. Not to mention some very persuasive pleads from various teachers..." his eyes twinkled towards none other than Oliver Wood, to his left, who was swelling with pride. This was his second year of taking Madam Hooch's place, ever since she retired in the middle of Draco's 6th year. "...Who wish to start the season as soon as possible."

To Draco's surprise, a 4th year girl at the Ravenclaw table with long blonde hair said in a booming voice, "When is the first match?" Every head in the Hall, which had swiveled in her direction, turned back toward Dumbledore.

"The first Quidditch Match will be taking place after breakfast on Thursday, September 4th, Slytherin against Gryffindor," Dumbledore said.

There was some whispering and muttering toward this announcement where Draco distinctly heard Harry Potter all the way from the Gryffindor table yell to his team, "TWO DAYS TO PRACTICE?"

Draco groaned. Another bloody match versus Potter, the tragic hero who, he thought bitterly, I've never beaten in a Quidditch match. Fantastic.

"I suggest that those House Quidditch Teams practice their best, and we'll all be looking forward to the match on Thursday. Thank you!" Dumbledore happily told them, breaking Draco's thoughts, and he sat back down, turning at once to Professor McGonagall to continue chatting.

After Dumbledore had finished speaking, the Great Hall broke into talk and laughter again, and Draco grumpily set down his fork, which had been poised in front of his mouth before Dumbledore had stood up for his announcement. Since he only had two days to start warming up for Quidditch again, he thought that skipping breakfast and walking down to the pitch for a few good circles around the stands would be refreshing.

He got up quickly and hurried out of the Great Hall, failing to notice that only a minute before him, Ginny Weasley did the exact same thing.

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Ginny was fuming. She had never been so angry with Harry Potter in her life.

"Another match against Slytherin!" Ron yelled furiously, not troubling to keep his voice down. A few looked over at him, amused, but merely chuckled to themselves before continuing to eat their meals.

"Ron, calm down. Gryffindor will win as usual; it's no big deal. It's not as if Harry hasn't beaten Malfoy before," Hermione told Ron, rubbing his shoulder soothingly.

Ginny rolled her eyes at this. For some reason, she couldn't stand the fact that Gryffindor always won everything, and it always happened to be Harry who won it. And what was that about Malfoy? It's not as if he was the only member of the Slytherin Quidditch team, why did they always take the mickey out on him? Well, she knew that he was a horrible git, but that didn't mean they were better than him. Especially Harry; Hermione somehow always thought he was invincible or something, that he was the best Quidditch player in a million years, what a load of -

"Ginny, what are you doing?" Harry said.

Ginny looked up. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all staring at her with puzzled eyes; apparently she had been wringing her muffin angrily in the midst of her thoughts. Its contents were now spread all across her plate, looking as though Cornish Pixies had been waging war on the innocent pastry.

"Er -"

"Ginny, is something up?" Ron said, his worried expression quite obvious. "You've been acting strange lately. I think you need to eat something."

Ron put bacon, eggs, and a piece of toast on Ginny's plate.

"Go on, dig in," he told her, taking the marmalade and spreading it on her toast in a brotherly manner. Ginny looked at Harry and Hermione, no certain expression on her face, and sighed. She turned her head back to Ron, who was licking his fingers clean.

"Ron, I'm fine," she told him in a flat tone, pushing her plate away.

"It looks like someone just dumped you," Harry muttered abruptly. Ginny shot him a death glare, not believing what she just heard from him.

"Excuse me?" she said threateningly. Her eyes were wide, and her eyebrows were practically invisible behind her fringe. She almost dared him to say what she thought he was going to say; she wanted him to provoke her...

"You know - the usual girl that's been dumped. A girl with red eyes, bad hair, looks like she hasn't showered for a while. Have you been dumped?"

The magic words had been said. Without warning, Ginny's voice hardened as she looked at Harry with narrowed eyes.

"I showered this morning, thank you very much," she said. Hermione's face wore the most anxious expression Ginny had ever seen on her. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be going to the library now -"

She paused, and her eyes met Harry's in that single silent morning before she devilishly grinned.

"- I need to learn some new hexes."

Standing up hastily, she then stormed out of the Great Hall, Harry and Ron watching her go with looks of shock, Hermione's jaw dropped so low that she easily could have fit a bowtruckle inside of it.

Ginny was outside now, walking on the Hogwarts grounds... past the lake... and now she was on the Quidditch Pitch.

The girl fell down to the ground harshly, tucked her knees up, put her arms around them, and cried; cried like a little baby. Why she was crying, she really didn't know. Everything had piled up on her so suddenly: Harry and Cho, him, Ron, and Hermione being unusually cold toward her. She didn't get it. She didn't get anything. She was a sixteen-year-old girl who was confused out of her mind. Why the hell was she crying? Why did Harry go back to Cho? Why couldn't have Ron turned out to be a nice sister? How -

"Weasley?"

Ginny opened her eyes wide. She wished more than anything to be able to be anywhere than where she was right at the moment; she wished more than anything to turn around and see anyone other than who she knew it was.

"Is that you?"

There he went again.

Reluctantly, Ginny stood up slowly, turned around, and was face-to-face with none other than Draco Malfoy.

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"Yeah, it's me," said Ginny. Her eyes were pointedly staring at her hands, anywhere but where he was standing. Her cheeks were magenta with embarrassment.

"You were crying, weren't you?" Draco asked delightedly out of nowhere. Ginny finally looked up and scowled at him. Draco noticed that even when she scowled, she looked so...

"What's it to you? You don't give a shit."

Draco laughed nastily, his eyebrows raised.

"Very true," he said, looking at her with what seemed to be amusement. "I was only asking."

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him as she had done with Harry earlier. Deciding to just leave instead of having a heated argument with Malfoy, she began walking back toward the castle, but, unexpectedly, Draco blocked her way, his pale gray eyes leering down at her.

"If you'll move out of my way," she hissed angrily, "I'm going back to the castle. Step aside, Malfoy."

Draco's legendary smirk answered back, and without saying a word, he moved to the side obligingly. Ginny swept past him, not even looking at him. She decided that once she got up to the castle she would take a nice, long bath and perhaps drown herself beneath the bubbles. Yes, that was good idea. Unfortunately for Ginny, this idea was immediately put to a halt when, after taking no more than two steps, Draco suddenly spoke.

"It was about Potter, wasn't it?"

Ginny froze in her tracks. Fury surged through her veins, and she thought of quickly pulling out her wand to put a Bat Bogey Hex on him before involuntary rushing back to Draco, pulling him by the collar of his robes, and pushing him to the ground forcefully. Draco let out a loud "OOF" and glared back up at Ginny.

"WHAT THE BLOODY - "

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Ginny said, her teeth gritted and a face so frightening it was enough to shut Draco's mouth. "Do you think I'm a fucking weakling? Do you?"

Draco gazed up at her, clearly surprised at her actions, more so her words. He didn't move, however, but remained on the muddy ground, his knees in the grass.

"Look, Weasley, if you'll let go of me now, I'm going to practice."

Ginny looked down at his arms and noticed for the first time that he was carrying his broomstick. She looked back at him crossly, pretending she hadn't noticed. She could just about break every bone in Malfoy's body at that moment, the slimy git with his stupid money, and his stupid broomstick, and his stupid haircut -

"There are two ways this could end," Draco said to her, bringing Ginny back to Earth with an unpleasant bump. "One, you could let go of me and I could practice my Quidditch, or two, you could not let go and end up with boils all over your private area."

Ginny raised an eyebrow, having a strange urge to laugh. She realized she had better things to do than holding Malfoy down with his collar, so she released his robes from her hand and backed away, half-grinning. Malfoy got up, wiping the mud off of his robes. Ginny didn't leave; she wanted to talk to Malfoy for some reason; perhaps it was because there was a fear inside of her of what would happen when she went to the Gryffindor Tower, finding Harry there when she had just practically said that she wanted to look up a hex to use on him.

The grin suddenly slid from Ginny's face, and now she looked rather serious.

"You were right," she said quietly. Draco looked up at her, confused.

"About what?" he asked snappishly.

"I was crying," said Ginny, and she looked into Draco's startling gray eyes. "About Har - Potter." She had almost said Harry, but then thought ridiculously that Malfoy, who had never once called Harry by his first name, may not have known whom she was talking about.

Draco simply stared at her, once again showing no emotions on his face; Ginny didn't even have the slightest clue of what he was thinking.

His mouth then broke into a sneer. "I knew it," he said, wiping more mud off of his robes. He looked back up at Ginny. "Why?"

Ginny sighed. She felt really rather desperate to tell someone her feelings about this, even if it was Malfoy. Over the past few days she was beginning to see he wasn't as horrible as Ron had always described him...

"Well, he told me I looked like I just got dumped," she said, barely above a whisper. "You know - bad hair, red eyes, sniffling all the time. I just don't get Harry. Why would he say something like that to me?"

As soon as she was done, Malfoy backed away; he was leaning in to hear what she was saying, she was saying it so quietly. Malfoy seemed to get it, however.

Ginny expected him to double-up laughing, or at least bellow out something like "HA HA HA! HOW INCREDIBLY PATHETIC!" but nothing of the sort happened. On the contrary, Draco looked a lot more serious than Ginny expected.

"You don't look like you just got dumped," Draco reassured her. Ginny stared at him, taken aback by his response.

"You look..." Draco trailed off, searching for a word. Ginny was still looking at him rather quizzically before he could stop himself from letting out what came next.

"...beautiful."