is exactly the impression we're going to give them," Draco explained. "It's a friendly match, so they're probably going to be gentle with us at the beginning. By the time they catch on, hopefully, we'll have scored a goal or two. They'll soon see why Hogwarts holds the European record for most number of Quidditch-related, school injuries on the continent."
"Do we really hold that record?" Ron asked. He had a curious habit of materializing out of thin air every time Malfoy so much as muttered to Ginny.
Draco smiled a scary smile. "We beat Durmstrang by six crushed noses, two fractured femurs and Goyle's broken leg."
"Ouch," Ginny screwed up her face. "I'm not sure whether to be proud or horrified."
Malfoy had brought his right foot up onto his broom to tighten the laces on his Quidditch boots, all the while maintaining perfect balance. There was a delicate flush to his cheeks from his practice session. His hair was slicked back and tucked behind his ears.
Overhead, the sky was overcast and it seemed that the shadow and movement of the clouds were reflected in his clear, grey eyes.
He flew a lot like Harry, Ginny noted, which made sense given that both boys were Seekers and were similarly built. The difference was that Harry tended to play with his heart, using instinct to pull off some of his more spectacular moves. Malfoy played with his head. He was cool and calculated about things.
Twice, during practice, he had dived for the Snitch only to pull up halfway when he assessed that there would no chance of catching up with his tiny, golden prey without crashing into the pitch. Harry would have gone for it. To hell with the broken shoulder or collarbone that may have awaited him at the end of his plummet.
"Nice," Ron suddenly said. He blew an appreciative whistle as he pointed at the rings. Sharon Pucey was practicing a mighty hurl which was sending the Quaffle spinning into the middle ring on a slight arc.
"Ugandan Spinning Hurl," Ron correctly identified. It was something Keepers made a point to know about. "No denying Slytherin does it well. I'm going to see if I can catch that." He sprinted over to Sharon and requested a quick catch session.
"I don' t recall that move working very well when your team went against us last time, Malfoy," Ginny added, rather smugly. Malfoy apparently brought out the worst in her. She wondered if he had the same effect on everyone.
The look Malfoy gave her was one part leer, two parts amused. "That' s because Potter cheated."
"Harry did not cheat!"
"Oh, yes, he did," Draco replied. "I imagine you' d be all shocked and stunned if he told you that the only reason Sharon's usually superb aim was off on that particular day was because Potter jabbed her in the ribs with his bloody broom handle just before she released the Quaffle. And I'm not talking about the kind of jab that Sharon, bless her depraved heart, would have preferred."
"Oh, shut up, Malfoy. That was an accident."
"Yes, and I'm a virgin."
Ginny coloured slightly. "You make it sound like you don't make mistakes on the pitch." She saw that Malfoy was now watching Ron do a rather impressive backward flip in order to catch Sharon's toss.
"On the contrary, Little Weasley, I make mistakes all the time."
"Such as?" Ginny prompted.
Draco regarded her with mild suspicion. "Given that you Gryffindors have already won the blasted Quidditch cup this year, I suppose it's safe to tell you that I generally won't catch the Snitch when I'm chasing it on my left."
Ginny' s eyes narrowed. "Don' t be daft. I' m sure I' ve seen you do just that."
Draco smiled somewhat enigmatically. "What you' ve seen, Little Weasley, is me rolling to the left and catching the Snitch with my right hand." He demonstrated for her.
"Why can't you catch on your left?" Ginny asked. She had to admit he had done a spectacular job of covering up what ought to have been a major handicap. The other teams would have paid a tidy sum for that little bit of information.
He was still watching the practice when he answered her. "Because I've dislocated my left shoulder about sixteen times."
Ginny grimaced. "That's awful! How?"
"My first girlfriend was half-giant," Draco informed, in a sombre tone. "Just like Hagrid. It was love at first dislocation, really."
"Very funny," Ginny folded her arms. "Seriously though, it can' t be a normal problem or Madam