a lot easier to spot in the air, Malfoy. You're like some big, blond, annoying..." he thought hard for a comparison. "Pigeon! That can't even fly straight."
Draco scowled. It might have been a little-known fact, but one of the easiest ways to prick his temper was to insult his Quidditch abilities. His eyes darkened to slate.
"If anyone's a ruddy pigeon, it's you, Potter."
Harry sneered in a rather frightening, Snape-like manner. "Oh, good comeback, Malfoy."
"Oh like the 'pigeon' insult was genius to begin with?" Draco spat.
"Boys, please!" Madam Hooch appealed for reason. "This is hardly constructive."
Harry wasn't through stating his case. "Seriously though, it wasn't my family's snake thing doing twisty, nasty acts with the Dark Mark. If anyone should be barred, it's him!"
A muscle started twitching in Draco's jaw. "That's dragon, not 'snake thing', you uninformed twat. And did you somehow miss Dumbledore's big announcement on Wednesday? The part about that whole incident NOT BEING MY BLEEDING FAULT!"
If the discussion wasn't about something as serious as Quidditch, it might have been an amusing sight to witness Madam Hooch rolling up the player list she was holding and smacking Draco on the arm with it. It made a distractingly loud noise. "Mr Malfoy! Fifteen points for your language!"
"Just fuck off and die already,," Harry hissed at Draco, in Parseltongue. The effect it had on the room was immediate. Turpin and Smith looked uncomfortable. Madam Hooch, meanwhile, was livid. Having no idea what Harry had just said, but able to make an educated guess.
"You first, Scarhead," Draco spat back in Gobbledeegook, which, given that it sounded like a lot of comical gibberish, did not have quite the same sinister effect.
"And fifteen points from Gryffindor as well, Mr. Potter," Madam Hooch scolded, giving both boys a look of extreme disappointment. She allowed much for her Quidditch captains, but drew the line at foul language when it was uttered away from the heat of a game.
"It will be twenty points apiece, in a minute, if I don't hear an apology for your respective behaviours. Honestly, after seven years, you'd think the two of you would at least pretend to get along."
Harry looked like he would rather chew on broken glass, though he managed to mutter, "Sorry."
"My apologies, Madam Hooch," Draco followed, sounding just as unrepentant.
Turpin was looking impatient at the lack of progress of the meeting. "Can't we just draw for Seeker now and settle this, Madam Hooch? Harry's got a one in seven chance of being selected for this game, doesn't he?" she asked. "Let's just pick a name and see what we get?"
Madam Hooch was flustered enough to agree. With a fortifying breath, she reached into the old bowler hat and drew out a name.
"Our Seeker is-" The four captains waited as she unfolded the bit of paper. The expression on her face as she read the name could best be described as 'long suffering'.
"Draco Malfoy."
Being a gracious winner was never the hallmark of a model Slytherin, as was brilliantly exhibited by Draco's enormous sigh of satisfaction
Chapter Sixteen
Draco Malfoy was a very strange boy. It would appear that he had given her a walnut.
In the quiet of her Advanced Runes class, Hermione sat at her desk and stared incredulously at the nut until she realized - feeling quite silly when she did - that it was a transfigured letter.
Well, duh, Granger, she could well imagine Draco saying, rolling his eyes.
Professor Flores had given her seventh year Gryffindor and Slytherin class the latest quiz from Monthly Runes Companion to occupy their time. Hermione rushed through the set, pleased to be able to decipher the series of symbols in half a period.
Checking to see that the rest of the class was still absorbed in the task, she carefully placed the walnut in her lap, and transformed it back to its original state.
The letter from Malfoy, read thus:
Pete returned early this morning with a reply from our Contact. It was apparently raining in London. Stupid bird did not appreciate the foul weather and nipped YEOH's finger. Thankfully for Pete, No blood was drawn, but wound stings most terribly in shower. YEOH? Frowning, Hermione re-read the line to make sure that she had it right. Who or what on earth was 'YEOH'?
Our Contact has requested a meeting in London next Saturday and will be locating an expert to see to our little problem. An expensive expert, no doubt. Fear not. I'll bring the money.
The condescending ass, did he really think she was that