The Quidditch Game

Scorpius saw the snitch and immediately sped toward it, the Gryffindor seeker quickly in pursuit. It was fourty minutes into Slytherin's second game against Gryffindor, also Scorpius's second game. Though he was a sixth year, he'd never played Quidditch before, utterly disinterested in the sport. But he'd finally been cajoled into trying out and was actually quite excellent, years upon years of flying with his father, however Quidditch-unrelated, giving him enough skill to perform beautifully in the air.

The announcer finally caught on to the fact that Scorpius was shooting after the snitch, dodging rogue bludgers and pushing his beautiful, expensive, prized broom faster and faster.

"Malfoy is going for the snitch, with Roslyn hot on his tail. And-- OH! Albus Potter has taken a hit with a bludger! He's going down!"

Scorpius's head jerked to the side in time to see Albus in a free fall spiral toward the ground, and then the boy was completely free of his broom, tumbling head over heels. Students panicked and teachers lept out of their bleachers, but Scorpius was already streaking toward the Gryffindor, pushing his broom to the limit until he slammed into Albus, grabbing the boy tightly around the waist. He jerked up on the handle of his broom, but the acceleration and extra weight drove them forward too quickly. The broom was just starting to slow when the ground lurched up to meet them, splintering Scorpius's broom and sending the pair flying forward and skidding into the turf.

Scorpius slowly shook free from the sudden fog about his head, pushing himself up on burning, tingling arms and looking around for Potter. The scarlet-clad boy lay nearby, unmoving, and Scorpius took one limping step and colapsed beside him, grabbing his shoulders and crying, "Albus! Albus!"

At first he thought the Gryffindor section of the stands were in an uproar over the injury caused to one of their players, but he slowly realized that they were cheering. He looked up to see the Gryffindor seeker circling the pitch with the golden snitch held high above his head. The teachers converged on Albus and Scorpius as the Slytherin team thudded to the ground a few yards in each direction, glaring furiously.

"Excuse me, please, Mr. Malfoy," a brisk voice requested, and Scorpius winced as he shoved himself away from Albus so that the boy could be lifted onto a floating stretcher.

"Mr. Malfoy, can you walk?"

Scorpius attempted to stand and found that he could, barely and with an extreme amount of pain, and only if he put no weight on his right leg. As soon as he struggled upward, the captain of the Slytherin team was upon him.

"What the hell was that!? You had the bloody snitch! It was practically at your fingertips! You're not on this team so you can rescue your stupid little friend!"

Scorpius's head swam and he pressed long, pale fingers to his eyes, suddenly lurching sideways. He felt adult arms grab him and a voice call, "Can we get another stretcher over here, please!"

He fazed in and out of consciousness on the way to the Hospital Wing, though he kept his eyes shut, not wanting to see the anger on his teammates' faces or the hundred watching Gryffindor eyes fixed on him as he was carried off the field.

"Mr. Malfoy, can you hear me?" There was a bright light in his eyes, and Scorpius was suddenly aware of a hard mattress beneath him as oposed to the stretcher he'd been on moments ago. He blinked and took a bleary glance about the white, open room, but saw nothing but a few empty beds and the nurse standing over him.

"Where's Albus?" he mumbled, the words coming out more garbled than he'd intended.

The nurse pressed her lips together. "You can see him soon. Just as soon as you do a few things for me, okay? Now, can you move your legs?"

They were sore, but obeyed his commands, and he wiggled his toes at her prompting. After patiently surviving a thorough check-up, Scorpius repeated his question with more intensity and the nurse sighed.

"He's a few beds down. You can check to see if he's awake, but you can't stay for very long. He needs rest--"

But Scorpius was already out of the bed and headed toward Albus, not even pausing for the brief dizziness that had overtaken him when he stood quickly. Malfoy saw the head of messy black hair shift on the pillow just as he sidled up to the bed, Potter stirring and then opening green eyes, meeting Scorpius's grey ones instantly.

Scorpius's throat closed suddenly and he had to swallow before he could speak, his words coming out in a rush. "Merlin, Albus, are you okay? You fell from so high and I was going too fast to stop--"

Albus cracked a smile. "I'm fine. I feel fine. Is the game over?"

"Uh, yeah," Scorpius replied, glancing away. "You won. Congradulations."

Albus seemed to be working over Scorpius's previous words in his head. "Did you catch me?"

"I tried," Scorpius replied bitterly.

"I guess that means Roslyn got the snitch, huh?" Albus commented softly, eyes fixed on Scorpius's face.

The young Malfoy pressed his lips together.

"Thanks," Albus said sincerely, saving Scorpius from making any reply. "And I'm sorry."

Scorpius gave Albus a slightly exasperated look. "Well, what was I going to do? Just let you fall? And for what? Just to win some stupid Quidditch game?" His tone turned bitter as he worked the muscles in his jaw again. "Apparently that's what my team thought, though."

Albus felt his chest tighten, not knowing how to assuage Scorpius's sudden hurt. "I'm sorry," he repeated again, sounding constricted.

Scorpius eyes flashed as he turned back toward Albus. "Don't you dare be," he commanded. "I don't care what they think, or say. They can kick me off the team if they want to. I feel happier when your team wins, anyhow."

Albus gave Scorpius a crooked, slightly confused smile. "Not much house spirit, then?"

Scorpius snorted. "Not if I have to choose between being a Slytherin and being your friend. Because you'll always come first, Al."