The Greatest Love, The Highest Sacrifice

Chapter 12 - To the Winner Go the Spoils

"It would be a sharp one, and a stealthy one, who would ever get past you in any contriving; even if it were a god against you."

-Athena, The Odyssey, 13.291-292

Doing his best not to look at the hundreds of students filling the Quidditch stands as he entered the Quidditch pitch from the Slytherin stands - and not to look in the direction of a certain redhead in particular - Draco Malfoy walked towards Madam Hooch, his team in single file behind him.

This is the most important game of your life, he told himself sternly. Don´t stuff it up by getting nervous now - you´re a Malfoy, remember? He grinned wryly to himself as he realised that being a Malfoy had certain advantages after all. At least in this case, they did. Years of being forced to be calm in the face of madness, to not let his father or his uncle see the reality of his feelings - his pain, his anger, his fear - made staying calm in this moment seem like child´s play.

Suddenly, a niggling feeling started in a corner of his mind. Draco turned around, thinking he must be feeling someone staring at him.

Not back there, Draco, came Norri´s amused voice. In front of you!

Draco whirled back, expecting to see Norri standing in front of him. But she was nowhere on the Quidditch pitch.

Not down there, up here. In the Gryffindor stands. And, looking up, Draco saw her clearly, sitting with Ginny, Fred, George, Sirius and Remus.

How can you do this? he wondered.

She chuckled, startling him. It´s a dragonkinde thing. Not all of us can do it, but it seems you and I can. It takes practice, which is why it´s much easier for me than for you to talk at the moment, but once you get the hang of it, you´ll be a natural.

Would you like to tell me why you´re introducing me to this new aspect of our relationship just now? Draco asked caustically. In case it´s escaped your notice, I´m about to play the hardest game of my life. And I don´t need distractions!

Easy there, Norri said placatingly. I figured that if you really wanted to take Ginny to this Yule Ball, and you can´t let the others do anything out there on the field, you might consider having a little outside help. Nothing big, just -

Norri was cut off by Draco´s freezing rejoinder.

Absolutely not. If you think that I´d be able to actually go to the Yule Ball with Ginny, knowing that I cheated when she thought I´d been honest, think again. I may be a Slytherin and a Malfoy, but if this is going to be the basis of our relationship, we´ll do it her way, not mine. His stern rejection softened as he added wistfully, Not that I wouldn´t appreciate the help. But this is the way it has to be.

Looking up at the stands, Draco grinned and winked at Norri. He knew she couldn´t see him from this distance, but it appeared that Fred and George had a pair of omniculars between them which they might share with the others. Besides, just knowing she was up there made him feel better. At least one Gryffindor student actually approved of the concept of him taking Ginny to the Yule Ball - even if she was Potter´s aunt!

Then, a third, unmistakeable voice entered their conversation, and Draco´s mind froze. Well done, Malfoy, Ginny purred. I almost thought you´d take her up for a minute. Oh, don´t feel angry with Norri, she added quickly, obviously feeling Draco´s ire begin to rise. She had no idea I can do this. Neither did I until this morning. So, no more contact now until the game is over, and we see who wins.

Draco couldn´t find words - or thoughts - to answer, so he just nodded dumbly. His eyes widened as he caught Ginny´s last comment, right before the contact broke and the two girls faded away.

Oh, and Draco? Good luck.

***

"Are you quite ready, Mr. Malfoy?"

Madam Hooch´s voice broke through Draco´s trance-like state, bringing him back to the game immediately at hand. Suddenly, buoyed by the fact the he finally knew Ginny actually wanted him to win, he grinned gleefully. With a nod to Madam Hooch, he turned to his opponents.

Draco´s eyes locked with Potter´s as he gripped his Nimbus 2000.

"This is one game you´re not going to win, Harry," he said with a calm determination that he was far from feeling.

Potter´s eyes widened - no doubt at the unprecedented use of his first name. "We´ll see," Harry said tersely.

Draco made no response.

Madam Hooch blew the whistle. The Quaffle and Snitch flew into the air, and both teams leapt onto their broomsticks and swept upwards in pursuit.

Draco didn´t bother to follow the Snitch. He knew it could easily disappear for well up to half the game, and he was happy to let Potter search for it. If he saw the Gryffindor Captain swoop suddenly from his position far above the other players, he´d close in for the kill himself. Until then, he´d focus on his team - on their honesty as well as their skill.

At first, there was little to really monitor - apart from keeping one eye fixed on Ron, who was better than Fred and George combined when it came to wielding a Bludger. The fact that the only Weasley on the Gryffindor team had a personal vendetta against him would have kept any self-respecting Slytherin on the alert.

So Draco watched Ron. And Harry watched Ron. And Ron had no choice but to concentrate on the game.

***

From the Gryffindor stands, Norri and Ginny watched the game with bated breath. Both did their utmost not to cheer every time the Slytherins scored - even Fred and George, who sat beside them, were forced to grudgingly admit that Blaise Zabini worked wonders with a Quaffle - but it was a near thing several times.

Ginny watched the Slytherins´ game with an eagle eye. Norri, who knew how much the girl wanted them to win, was well aware that if Ginny saw even a foul on a forward pass, her Gryffindor loyalties would demand that she refuse Draco outright.

But to everyone´s surprise, Slytherin was playing faultlessly. And Norri, who had been as impressed as Ginny when Draco refused her covert offer of assistance, was thrilled.

Which was a far cry from most of the other Gryffindors.

"What´s bloody wrong with them?" Seamus growled from his seat behind Fred. "Are they suffering a collective identity crisis or what?"

Dean was just as unimpressed. "Professor Weasley hasn´t given a single penalty," he moaned. "The Slyths just keep getting the Quaffle through our players. What does Ron think he´s doing with that Bludger of his?"

"Playing safe," Hermione whispered in Ginny´s ear. Sotto voce, she added, "What I want to know is who he´s more worried about - Harry´s reaction if he causes a penalty, or yours."

Ginny laughed, but didn´t answer.

At that moment, Justin Creevey scored, and the Gryffindor stands erupted in wild applause. The Slytherin team immediately wrestled the Quaffle back, and a fierce battled ensued mid-field as Justin and Blaise dodged Bludgers and each other to secure the Quaffle.

"It´s interesting, this game," Sirius commented to Norri and Remus. "One is almost forced to admit that, when they play clean, Slytherin is actually the better team."

"Absolutely not!" Dean averred.

"Oh come on Dean, it´s the truth!" argued Lavender, not taking her eyes from the game. Norri chuckled as she heard Lavender continue in an undertone to Parvati, "Draco´s managing that team like they´re the World Cup champions. He has such control! And if that Flint boy weren´t two years younger..."

Looking over at Ginny, Norri whispered, "I didn´t realise it before, but it looks like you could have competition for a certain someone´s attentions. You´d better watch out!"

Ginny arched an eyebrow. "If Draco can be swayed by a giggling miss who only pays attention to tarot cards and The Wizarding Weekly, he´s not worth the effort after all!"

Norri grinned. "Ah, so you´ve decided he is worth the effort, have you?" And before the red-faced girl could reply, she turned back to Sirius, Remus, and the game below, the grin still etched firmly on her face.

***

"Fred, mate," George said quietly to his brother quite some time later, his eyes never leaving the game being played out below them. "You do realise that at the rate they´re going, this could go on for days?"

"And that we have no idea who will end up winning, right?" Fred answered.

"Exactly. So who do we want to win?"

Fred turned and regarded his twin with an expression of faint surprise on his face.

"Are you seriously asking me that question?" he asked.

George shifted a little uncomfortably in his seat. "I don´t know," he averred. "It just doesn´t seem right, rigging this game so that our own side loses."

"But it´s for Ginny," Fred answered simply, as if that statement was more than sufficient explanation. And, for the Weasley twins, it was.

"So, what is it that we´re going to do?" asked George.

"Damned if I know. But I don´t recommend anything involving Draco. If this bizarre sense of fair play that he seems to have developed is real, he´d probably work out what was going on and forfeit the whole game."

"Too right. So, we focus on the Gryffindors? Use a muted Stunning Spell to slow down their play, enough to distract Harry - which will then enable Draco to get the Snitch?"

Fred nodded.

"Perfect. Just do it gradually, so it´s not too obvious. The last thing we want is McGonagall breathing down our backs."

"Definitely don´t want to go back there," George agreed fervently. "But wait - what´s this about me not being obvious? I thought we were doing this together."

"Right you are, old chum. But someone has to distract Miss Virginia Anne here, otherwise all hell will break loose. You know what she´s like when it comes to strategy. So, you slow them down and I´ll stow her away. And then Slytherin will win, Ginny will have to go the Yule Ball with Draco, and before you know it we could be stuck with Malfoys for in-laws."

Fred´s expression of distaste as he reached his final conclusion was awfully amusing - as George immediately told him. The latter was rather more pragmatic about the whole situation.

"Oh well, you win some, you lose some, I guess. Speaking of winning, you do realise this puts a different spin on the bet we made with Remus and Sirius, don´t you?"

"What was that? Oh, you´re right. That Slytherin would win. So conscience dictates..."

"Precisely. But we couldn´t call off the bet, now, could we?"

"Certainly not. It would give the game away by a mile."

The twins smiled gleefully at each other.

"So we´ll just have to go through with it?" Fred asked, assuming an expression of pious despair.

George grinned. "I know how difficult it is for you, but....yes."

Fred chortled. "You know that this means we´ll have to pay for their drinks at The Three Broomsticks afterwards, don´t you? It´s only fair."

"Of course." George nodded. "Just make sure that you don´t get drunk and give the game away."

Fred pointed a finger sternly at his brother.

"Hey! It wasn´t me who let it slip to Snape who was really responsible for switching that entire batch of Memory Potion for Romantic Interlude back in fifth year. If we hadn´t already graduated, that little stunt of yours would have seen us expelled."

George had the grace to look somewhat penitent. Obviously, he was remembering Snape´s reaction to finally hearing the definitive truth regarding one of the most infamous potions switches in the history of Hogwarts.

"I never understood why he was so furious - apart from the fact that he hadn´t discerned what we´d done in time, of course. Madam Pince and Professor Flitwick being touchy about it for months is understandable, and Angelina didn´t talk to me for almost a month because she had followed Oliver around for five days, and they were both hideously embarrassed. But Snape didn´t fall in love with anyone."

Fred shook his head, an unholy grin on his face.

"You´re only saying that because you didn´t catch him feeding Mrs. Norris gourmet sardines twice a day until the potion wore off. Of course, he was sneezing hysterically the whole time - being savagely allergic and all - but he petted her and fed her and crooned to her all the same."

"And how did I manage to miss that one?"

"Because, you great prat, you were stupid enough to drink your own ruddy potion and spent the entire time mooning after poor Katie, who thought you were quite serious and was heartbroken when she worked out the truth."

George shifted uncomfortably. "Ah yes, I remember now. Always felt a bit bad about that one, actually."

"And so you should. Poor girl."

"Well, she got over it. And so did everyone else. At least I insisted on Romantic Interlude and not Eternal Adoration."

"Yes, thank the stars. So, let´s get on with it, shall we?"

***

"Ah, Ginny?"

"Yes, Fred?"

"I was wondering - do you actually want Slytherin to win?"

Ginny smiled.

"Do you actually expect me to answer that?"

"Not really, no. But it occurred to George and me that we should find out. You know, work out your real intentions and all."

"And why is that?"

"Well, we decided that it was only fair. If Slytherin won and we went ahead and killed Draco, and then found out that you really did want to go to the Yule Ball with him after all, it would be a little...awkward."

"Awkward?" Ginny screeched, then turned fuchsia as Norri and Sirius turned to look at her curiously. "Awkward?" she hissed in a furious undertone. "That´s what you call killing Draco - awkward?"

"Well, we weren´t going to actually kill him," Fred amended. "We´d never get away with it." Watching Ron come to a complete and very frustrated halt he continued, "We were actually considering something a little less permanent - maybe breaking a leg or blinding him. What do you think?"

Looking at his baby sister, Fred was more than satisfied. It was clear that she was finding it difficult to think at all - and obvious that the Quidditch match was now the furthest thing from her mind.

"Fred Weasley, if you - if either of you - do anything to Draco...even the smallest thing...so help me, I´ll...I´ll -"

As Ginny spluttered, attempting to come up with suitable threats of hexes, curses, or some other dire ending she could plan for her twin brothers, Fred patted her hand consolingly.

"Don´t worry. I reckon you´ve just answered my question. But tell me, what is it you see in him anyway?"

Ginny pulled her hand away, undeterred by this seeming change of tack from her older brother.

"What do you think you´re doing, playing surrogate mother or something? For you information, Fred, my relationships - no matter who they´re with or how old I am - are my business and mine only. And if you thought otherwise you can think again. I´ll have you know that..."

As Ginny continued, warming to her theme of independence and interfering, overbearing male siblings, Fred settled back and smiled beatifically. Which only riled her more, as he had meant it to do. For the next fifteen minutes Ginny raved, fiercely rebutting the languid comments Fred offered in the moments when he thought she was winding down. Fred listened attentively, all the while watching the Quidditch match below in silent appreciation of his brother´s genius.

Before the game, Slytherin and Gryffindor had been almost perfectly matched, but now the Slytherins were now noticeably in front. George had slowed the Gryffindor team with such precision, such perfect timing, that it appeared to everyone the Gryffindors were simply tiring faster than their opponents.

That was definitely what Harry seemed to believe. Increasingly, he was diverting attention from his search for the Golden Snitch, shouting instructions to his teammates and advising them on strategy.

Draco, in contrast, was focused wholly on finding the Snitch. Fred acknowledged privately that he would have probably done the same if he were in Harry´s position. But not Draco. He prepared his team well - and thoroughly - but once they were on the field, the game was their responsibility. The mark of a Slytherin, Fred concluded with grudging respect.

Nodding to George, indicating that he give the Gryffindors some chance to recoup their losses, Fred turned his attention back to Ginny. In doing so, he missed the final moments of the match.

One moment Harry was sweeping upwards, returning to a position from which he would be able to spy the Snitch. The next, he was desperately swooping down in a futile attempt to beat Draco´s plunge towards the tiny fluttering ball of gold they could both see in a corner of the Quidditch pitch.

Draco skidded to a halt, only inches from the ground. And then he was holding his arm aloft, the Snitch in his hand.

There was absolute silence from the stands, filled by spectators. And then the crowds erupted - Slytherins, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, even the Gryffindors. It had been one the tightest matches Hogwarts had ever seen, and it was obvious to all that the Slytherins richly deserved their victory. Even the Gryffindor team were applauding their opponents - with the notable exception of Ron, who looked ready to transfigure into a Romanian Ridgeback and devour Draco.

Looking at Ron, Fred suffered a twinge of conscience. Without the help he and George had provided, the Gryffindor team might just have won. But it was definitely only a might.

And watching Ginny, standing and applauding, her eyes fixed on Draco, Fred knew that he and George had done the right thing.

***

Draco hovered above the pitch, his hand still clenched on the fluttering Snitch, his eyes wide and unbelieving. We won, we won, we won, his mind repeated over and over again, but he couldn´t seem to quite take it in.

Suddenly a hand fell on his shoulder and he turned, expecting to see one of his euphoric team mates.

It was Harry.

"Good game, Malfoy," he said quietly, a small but quite genuine smile creasing his lips.

"Thank you," Draco said, then seemed surprised that the words had come from his own lips.

Harry leaned a little closer. "You do realise that if you hurt her, we´ll kill you, don´t you?"

Draco looked at him, his mind blank for a moment. Then he understood, and he nodded. "I hope so, Potter," he answered, utterly serious. "I certainly hope so."

Then he looked up, his eyes keenly scanning the stands until he saw Ginny, still standing and applauding, Norri and Fred on either side. His eyes met hers and he smiled. He didn´t look away.

***

Unknown to Draco, Harry hadn´t looked away either. He watched as the Slytherin captain scanned the crowd intently, then observed that smile.

Harry´s eyebrows raised and his mouth pursed itself in a low whistle. Then, satisfied, he turned his broom and headed away.