Today was the last Quiddich match of the year- Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Harry wasn't nervous at all, thanks to the encouraging of Ron, Hermione, Seamus, and Neville, who had told him that Malfoy was going to be easy to beat, just like all of the other times. Though smiling, Harry couldn't help feel as though a gigantic weight was on his chest. Here's the thing...he didn't really want to beat Draco. No, Malfoy. Malfoy. Dra-Malfoy was good at quiddich- he was fast on his broom- and though he bragged about his father getting the team all of the newest equipment, he was still a good player.
Harry had noticed something at their last game; Draco, though determined to win, looked so...happy while playing. Sure, he was...confident, but he just seemed so peaceful and calm. Draco was such a good player because he blocked everything else out of his head and simply played.
Wait...
Harry blinked, coming back to the real world. Why on earth had he been thinking about Malfoy? Because he was a good seeker, that's why. Wait, wait, wait. Harry, stop complimenting Draco. Harry, listen to Ron!
He pushed everything away to the back of his mind and looked back at his friend.
"Sorry, Ron. What was that?" He asked, adjusting his glasses. The Weasley sighed, and continued the conversation.

Draco seemed distracted. Maybe it was the fact that they were playing Gryffindor; maybe it was the fact that he had secrets drifting in his thoughts involving a certain, dark- haired and green- eyed player on the opposing team. Yeah...he couldn't get his thoughts off of Harry Potter. Why? He had no idea. But he did know that his chest tightened whenever Harry was about to fall off of his broom. He felt this weird sense that he wanted to save Harry from whatever danger the heights gave to him. But why he thought these thoughts? That, only Draco could answer. But that answer didn't plan on showing itself anytime soon. Only when he was sure of something else would those emotions come to the surface.
But now, he didn't have time to be distracted. He didn't have time to think about anything else besides game strategies. Draco shook his head, pressing a finger to his temples. He pushed the thoughts to the back of his head, changed into his quiddich robes, and grabbed his broom. He nodded at the Keeper, Miles Bletchley, and told Crabbe and Goyle, the two beaters, to hurry up and head to the quiddich field.
Honestly...Draco didn't want to beat Harry. Obviously he would, but he would feel bad about it, he could almost guarantee. Harry was a good- no, really good, seeker. At least he would have good competition- wait. Draco, stop complimenting Saint Potter and get your head in the game! Literally! He sighed, reluctantly accepting a hug from Pansy Parkinson, and walking out on to the field with the rest of the Slytherin team.

I looked across the field, circling the Quiddich Pitch over and over again. I hadn't seen the snitch yet, and neither had he. I scanned the stands again, my eye catching on something golden. When I reached it, I saw that it was a stupid pebble, reflecting the sunlight.
"Damn it." I mumbled, flying towards the sky again. For a while, I circled the pitch and stands, not seeing any sign of the small, glittering object.
"There!" screamed someone from the stands. I looked towards where the brown- haired boy was pointing, hand out-stretchered towards the tiny, flying sphere.
"Malfoy, look out!" called a voice suddenly. I leaned to my left, rocketing away from the bludger that threatened to hit me. I glanced in the direction of the voice, and saw Potter. He looked terrified- shocked- scared- all at the same time. No one else had heard his warning, luckily. I nodded slightly; I wanted to give him a hug. There- that's the honest truth. But I COULDN'T, because there was a flash of gold right in front of me. Harry and I raced towards it, close enough that I could see the beads of sweat glistening on his forehead.
"Take it." I hissed quietly, glancing at him. Potter just shook his head like an idiot. "Do it, Potter!" I insisted, white- gold hair flying into my eyes. The snitch got closer- three feet, two feet, one foot, ten inches, five inches-
I shoved Harry towards it. To anyone watching, it would look like I had tried to push him out of the way. But I did the opposite; and only we could know that.
Ok...this last part wasn't planned. Actually.


Draco shoved me towards the snitch. It didn't seem like he had meant to, because his eyes were wide and his face was red as his lips brushed the side of my cheek. He didn't seem to mind it, though, because, with a slight smile afterwards, he kissed me on the cheek again.
"Potter." he hissed quickly, taking Harry's hand. "Yes or No." he asked, not wanting to meet his eyes.
"Yes or No what?"
Draco just stared. He blinked, repeating what he had said. "Yes or No."
Harry leaning forward slightly, green eyes sparkling. He understood. With a slight smile, "Yes."