Deciding Match

The rain fell heavily as the thunderclouds gathered over the final Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin of Harry Potter's last year at Hogwarts.

As team captain and now chaser, Harry was proud of his team. They played well, and their team spirit whether they won or lost a game was well spoken of by their classmates and the other houses.

The same could not be said for the opposing team, who were currently letting Draco know that if he didn't catch the Snitch this time, they would never speak to him again.

"You couldn't start now, could you?" Draco suggested. "Or better still, why don't you take your brooms and shove them..."

"Draco," Pansy suggested, "relax. I know this game means a lot to you. It's our last chance to win the House Cup back for Slytherin."

"And my last chance to prove I'm good enough for Harry Potter." Draco told her. "If I can do that, maybe he'll finally take me away from my family and that horrid beast they serve."

"Good luck, Draco." Pansy hugged him the way she might hug a little brother, then watched as he and the Slytherin team left the locker room.

"And the Slytherins finally arrive," the announcer told the crowd, "after making sure we're all soaking wet. Malfoy's got one final chance to prove himself to his team-mates. You'd think they'd have replaced him by now. But I guess no one else on the team could fly fast enough without falling off their brooms. And Ron Weasley makes another spectacular save! Way to go, Ron! Malfoy's circling the pitch. Where's he going? He's disappeared into the thunderclouds above. Looks like he's finally flipped out. But never mind him. Looks like Slythern's got the quaffle. Their chaser tries for another goal, and another block from Ron Weasley. Harry Potter, former seeker and now chaser grabs the quaffle and makes for the Slytherin goal. He passes it. It's passed back. Potter shoots. Gryffindor scores."

The entire pitch was lit up as though it were daylight for several moments.

"That has got to be the biggest flash of lightning I've ever seen. Still no sign of Malfoy. Wait. Here he comes. And is that the Snitch I see? Malfoy's gaining. Ginny Weasley is close behind. Malfoy's got his hand around it and..."

There was a gasp as the Snitch passed right through Draco's closed hand. At the same time, the burning wreckage of a broom and it's rider plummeted from the cloud.

Dumbledore signalled Madame Hooch to halt the game as he made his way to the pitch.

After speaking with Draco for several minutes, he looked up, a single tear running down his face.

"Even though Mr. Malfoy did not manage to hold onto the Snitch," he announced, "I think we can all say that if his hand had been solid, he would have done so. It is therefore our decision that it would be unfair not to award the capture and the game to Slytherin. Well done, Draco."

As the Slytherins applauded their victory, Draco smiled and blew a kiss to Harry Potter as he faded from the pitch.

(END)