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On a sunny but cool day Harry put on a warmer sweater, took his broom, which he wouldn’t ever exchange for anything, and headed towards the Quidditch pitch. The Gryffindor team didn’t have any practice today — Potter only wanted to circle around a little over the pitch and the forest, feel some wind on his face. During those five years he’s familiar with the broom flying, it became the second necessary thing for him after breathing.
Deeply inhaling a damp pleasant autumn air, Harry was walking in the direction of the pitch slowly, without a rush, enjoying the solitude. He really loved his friends, but there were moments when he wanted to be alone with himself. When the Gryffindor reached the pitch he grimaced and sighed disappointedly, looking upwards: there, several meters above his head, over the sands of the Quidditch pitch, a blonde was circling around meditatively with a satisfied face. “Malfoy…” — Harry mouthed through clenched teeth. An obscenity almost slipped out of his mouth. Hell!
Potter turned around unwillingly and was going to leave and decide what can be an adequate substitute for the broom flight . But the sharp voice, cutting through the silence, almost grabbed him and didn’t let him move.
“Hey, Potter!” — he heard.
The Slytherin seeker lowered and was looking mockingly at Harry.
“Are you running away scared of my splendor?” — Draco’s smile appeared sincere. As if someone put a crown on his head that moment.
Harry only muttered something incomprehensive in response. He didn’t want to stand near the Slytherin. Malfoy grinned in response, gaining altitude again.
“I knew that.”
The annoyance inside of Potter started to boil to the anger level and he clenched his fists so hard the nails that had already grown a little dug into his skin. Malfoy was pissing him off.
“Go behold the snitch in the storeroom, because I will catch it in two weeks.” — Draco blurted quietly, turning his back to Harry, but there clearly were provocative notes in his voice.
The same second Harry appeared at the same altitude as the Slytherin, angry blush on his cheeks. Draco had felt it and turned his broom around to face him. He looked the Gryffindor right in the eyes perkily, with a sneer.
Draco Malfoy had been circling around over the castle surroundings for a long time already and he already got bored of it. Not to mention he dressed too lightly for a weather like that — a shirt with a thin pullover was clearly not enough — and he got chills to the tips of his fingers and nose. So the Slytherin was going to head back to the relatively warm, dear living room in a short time. But all of a sudden this Potter came around and something clicked in Draco’s head — the boredom was gone.
“I’m fed up with your arrogance, Malfoy! Stop circling around here, let others train!” — Harry shouted with annoyance, even though he wasn’t sure he wanted exactly to train.
“I’m not going anywhere, I’ve just come here” — Draco stretched out the words a long moment later. — “You’re not the only seeker in this school, the-fame-got-to-his-head-boy.”
Harry swallowed this accusation without saying a word.
“Don’t tell me tales! If you’ve just come, why is your nose like this?” — Harry pressed hard the tip of the youth’s nose with his finger. The thin skin on it really went red from the cold.
For a moment both seekers froze with their eyes wide open from astonishment. Harry couldn’t believe he did it. Draco couldn’t believe it happened. When the realization almost came to Draco’s head, he slammed his palm hard against the Gryffindor’s cheek, leaving a bright-red mark. And the boys froze again trying to digest it. Although the comprehension took only a couple of seconds, it felt like eternity.
“Malfoy!” — Harry stretched out his arm tensed from anger towards the Slytherin. The boy grinned sarcastically and abruptly pulled the broom to the side, thus making Potter follow him. Their brooms were flying swiftly over the meadow and the forest, getting closer one moment, and then again moving away to a great distance.
Harry was reaching out his hand to Draco's broom as if trying to catch a snitch. The only difference is at that moment it wasn’t the long for victory that controlled him, it was spite. Well, was it spite? The spite gave way to the pure adrenaline in his blood just a couple of meters away from the Quidditch pitch. Malfoy lifted his right hand and waved it, as if he was saying goodbye, teasing his opponent, and disappeared so fast and unexpectedly, that Potter barely noticed the direction.
Malfoy made a steep turn, descending rapidly and almost touched the lake surface, over which he occurred, with the tip of his broom. Two fourth year Slytherin girls, who happened to be sitting by the lakeshore under a tree, smiled, watching their prince in fascination. While the fifth year Ravenclaw student who was sitting on an upside-down wooden boat just looked up tiredly. They now had an audience.
Harry felt like those three students took away something personal. Something secret. But this feeling didn’t last long. Seeing the public, Malfoy started to slip away from Potter in an even more sophisticated way, grabbing his sweater or the broom every now and then, but still staying out of reach.
This snitch was incredibly hard to catch. The Gryffindor felt how despite the cold his face turns red and becomes hot. Irritation and anger were making a comeback. He felt like a cat who was trying to catch a light, but on top of that the light was being sarcastic. Harry dug his nails into the broom. This is not Quidditch, for Hell’s sake! Harry took out his wand and pointed it to the rival.
“Confundo!”
Malfoy was far from Harry, but he hit the target precisely. Draco stopped making loops, and his broom started descending slowly lower and lower to the water surface. He tried to land his second hand on the shaft to keep the equilibrium, but he missed, losing his balance completely, and leaving his broom hanging in the air.
Draco saw a gray sky above him and felt himself falling down, but still couldn’t figure out what to do. His arms and legs were helplessly picked up by the air until the wizard's back hit the water with a crash. The sky was still visible for a moment, but the water quickly surrounded the boy’s body and pulled him to its depths. The entire air from his lungs was knocked out upon the impact, and now he was sinking like a rock. The clothes which felt too light up in the air turned out to be too heavy here. And only when the wizard took a breath the consciousness returned to him fully.
It was like Draco breathed in molten iron. He wanted to scream, but there appeared no sound underwater. The young man was seized with panic. There was an unbearable noise in his ears. The noise of the bubbling streams, which were surrounding Malfoy’s body because he was moving disorderly with his whole body trying to surface, was mixing in with thundering like an alarm bell beat of his heart. But no matter how hard he was waving his arms and legs, the desired surface remained just as far away.
Finally, the wizard noticed that his leg was entangled in algae. He tried again and again to reach the algae and free himself, but his body in the water, which was becoming thicker for the young man, did not respond to him. Not giving up his attempts to break out until the last moment, Draco lost consciousness.
***
Harry did not expect this. He was watching the foaming water calm down, the last bubbles disappear, turning the lake into a mirror again. As if nothing happened. But Malfoy is not on his broom. The broom now was swaying aimlessly on shallow waves. The screams of the Slytherin girls could be heard from the shore, but as if through cotton wool. Potter's gut twisted with fear: this is not a snitch! This is a Hogwarts student. This is Draco Malfoy. His closest opponent. And now he was under thick water. Harry didn't know how much time had passed, but it felt like years. He should be gotten out of there.
The Gryffindor had a look at his broom: he couldn’t just go down and swim, it was too far to the shore. Potter glanced at the shore. Two student girls were radiating anxiety, standing at the very edge of the water. The Ravenclaw was looking anxiously at everyone in turn, having gotten up from the boat. Here it is — the boat!
Harry rushed towards the young man like lightning. He did not ask, but seemed to order the students to help him. The four of them turned the boat over, and Harry told the girls to stay on the shore, and the guy was to help him ride to the place.
The Gryffindor and the Ravenclaw cast spells, and the old wooden boat rushed off like a powerboat, throwing spray in different directions. When they reached the spot, Potter pulled off his sweater and quickly, without hesitation, jumped into the water. He immediately felt a burning cold on his skin, but it didn't matter. Too much time had passed. In the darkness of the lake, Harry noticed platinum hair and immediately headed in that direction.
Draco looked like a wax doll: just as motionless, just as... lifeless. Potter hurried to pull the Slytherin out and grabbed him around the waist, but something prevented him from pulling the young man to safety. Suddenly, the Gryffindor was filled with fear, as if he were being prevented from boarding the train, which had already left the platform. Noticing the algae, Harry quickly dealt with it - more thanks to a sudden surge of strength than his dexterity - and hurried upwards.
Once Malfoy was in the boat, Harry covered him with his sweater, not noticing his own trembling.
“Come on…” — Harry shook him by the shoulders. “Wake up...” — he almost whispered.
If you were a Snitch, you would have continued your game already…
***
Harry had never set foot in the Hospital Wing since Draco had woken up. He only hoped that at the Quidditch match they would meet and fight at full strength.