high over the pitch to get a clear view. Draco thought him an odd choice for a Seeker. The man's build seemed more suited to a Beater, but there was no denying he was very quick.
"Feinting keeps my eyes off the prize. It's too risky. The man's lazy, not blind."
"Why is it risky? Because of your handicap?" Ron asked, his irritating freckled face a study in Innocence.
"I see she told you."
"Pah. My sister tells me everything."
Draco had to grin at that. "Weasley, you poor, na?ve, sod."
Ron scowled. "Trust me about Tanner. He'll be your Siamese Twin if he thinks you know where the Snitch is. If you do spot the real thing before him, send him in the opposite direction first."
"If you' re wrong about this Weasley, I' ll have to come round to fetch a testicle in the evening."
"This is Quidditch," Ron said, grinning, using the exact same tone Draco had used on him earlier. "That's a fair trade."
Just then, the crowd erupted into boos as Sharon was side-swiped by Huggins just as she threw the Quaffle at the Auror's central ring. Quartermaine deflected the wayward shot easily and the score remained even.
"Good luck," Draco said, as he headed upwards.
"You too!" Ron called back.
The wait for the elusive Snitch was a short one. As all attention became firmly fixed on Ron as he fought off a fresh assault, Draco finally caught sight of it. It was whirring about roughly ten meters below.
A quick glance at Tanner revealed that the Auror Seeker had no idea as yet. Draco made a show of looking behind him very suddenly and bringing his broom about in preparation to speed off.
The crowd certainly noticed this and there seemed to be a collective gasp as hundreds of pairs of eyes began searching for he telltale golden shimmer. That was all Tanner needed to begin flying in completely the wrong direction.
Time to end this, thought Draco with an inward smile. As was usually the case, all other matters pertaining to the game faded away into the background and all that concerned Draco, as it would any other Seeker, was the fact that the Golden Snitch was now within reach.
Draco gently tipped his broom handle downwards to the required angle and then rocketed forward. The Snitch burst into action. Even after dozens of games and hundreds of practice sessions, its speed and agility was still a marvel to behold. Draco sped up to keep track of it. When he was right on top, with his broom beginning to vibrate from the high speed and as the ground began to rise up to meet him, Draco spun sharply to the left and clamped his right hand around the prize.
Tanner was still nowhere in sight, but not so Bligh. Draco heard the Beater come at him, before he actually saw him.
"Filthy Deatheater son of a bitch!"
While Bligh's words were not surprising, his kick was. It caught Draco square between the shoulder blades and ought to have sent him flying off his broom, but Draco had the sense to take his broom with him even as he went over.
He spun horizontally for four or five revolutions, before recovering enough to apply the brakes once he was a meter or so from slamming into the ground.
The Snitch was lost, however. And Tanner had just noticed.
The impact winded him and for a brief moment, Draco experienced the horribly familiar sensation of trying to take in a breath and finding his lungs to be uncooperative. He was only vaguely aware that both Ron Weasley and Horace Sommerby were shouting from some distance above and that Sommerby was showing off an impressive array of swear words which no Hufflepuff ought to have known.
Before even allowing Draco a chance to sort out grass from sky, and completely ignoring Madam Hooch's shrill whistle, Bligh darted forth and butted Draco in the face with his broom handle. He then shouted at Tanner to start questing for the Snitch, which was no doubt nearby.
Ginny was the first on the scene. The relatively calm expression on her face showed that she was no stranger to violence and un-sportsmanlike behaviour in Quidditch. Draco tipped back his head and swiped at his bleeding nose with his right sleeve, while Ginny eyed him with a frown. "Malfoy, I think your shoulder's out."
Ah, so it was. That would explain the blinding pain, then. Ignoring his nose, Draco began prodding at the area.
"Er, maybe you should do that on the ground. We'll ask Madam