Post by kohane on Nov 5, 2011 13:59:07 GMT -8
Title: But A Squeak
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Word Count 300(YEAH THAT'S RIGHT! EXACTLY 300! I AM THAT AWESOME! lol)
Summary: If only that Bludger had hit him in the face....
The wind whipped through his cloak as he flew, pushing his broom to it's limits. The wood creaked under his touch as he urged his Nimbus 2001 faster still. Eyes trained on the small golden snitch just feet in front of him, out of the corner of his eyes he saw his rival. He was also pushing his broom to it's limits, while simultaneously being chased by a cursed bludger. It was mighty entertaining to watch Potter dive and weave throughout the pitch with a large angry ball of leather chasing after his life.
He was in front of Potter! He was winning! Just a few more feet and he would have Potter beat, his whole house would worship him, not that they don't practically worship him anyways...I mean...look at that face, just like an angel, and such perfect hair, even in the winds caused by his racing broom. Now if only he could catch that snitch, just in front of his hand, he would be hailed as the boy-who-beat-the-boy-who-lived...
With the distraction of his thoughts Draco tripped up...and badly. He had been to busy gloating about a victory he didn't even have, that he didn't notice the beam right in front of his broomstick. Thus his broom caught, and flipped him over, off, and landed him, painfully, in near splits. He could hear as his trousers split from the force, and grimaced as ground met painfully with his groin. He coughed in pain, however was ignored, as Potter caught the snitch, and the bludger broke his arm(the prat deserved all the pain he could get for humiliating Draco like this).
If only Potter hadn't caught the snitch, and instead had taken a bludger to the face.
"Someone help me up!" His voice was but a squeak.
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Word Count 300(YEAH THAT'S RIGHT! EXACTLY 300! I AM THAT AWESOME! lol)
Summary: If only that Bludger had hit him in the face....
The wind whipped through his cloak as he flew, pushing his broom to it's limits. The wood creaked under his touch as he urged his Nimbus 2001 faster still. Eyes trained on the small golden snitch just feet in front of him, out of the corner of his eyes he saw his rival. He was also pushing his broom to it's limits, while simultaneously being chased by a cursed bludger. It was mighty entertaining to watch Potter dive and weave throughout the pitch with a large angry ball of leather chasing after his life.
He was in front of Potter! He was winning! Just a few more feet and he would have Potter beat, his whole house would worship him, not that they don't practically worship him anyways...I mean...look at that face, just like an angel, and such perfect hair, even in the winds caused by his racing broom. Now if only he could catch that snitch, just in front of his hand, he would be hailed as the boy-who-beat-the-boy-who-lived...
With the distraction of his thoughts Draco tripped up...and badly. He had been to busy gloating about a victory he didn't even have, that he didn't notice the beam right in front of his broomstick. Thus his broom caught, and flipped him over, off, and landed him, painfully, in near splits. He could hear as his trousers split from the force, and grimaced as ground met painfully with his groin. He coughed in pain, however was ignored, as Potter caught the snitch, and the bludger broke his arm(the prat deserved all the pain he could get for humiliating Draco like this).
If only Potter hadn't caught the snitch, and instead had taken a bludger to the face.
"Someone help me up!" His voice was but a squeak.
