Aerial Duel and the Golden Snitch (I)

Draco was looking elsewhere. His head was slightly tilted, his gaze fixed on a spot on the eastern side of the pitch, near the edge of the Ravenclaw stands. The curtain of rain there looked no different from anywhere else—gray and murky, with nothing visible through it.

But there was a light in Draco's eyes, one that came from within—certain, cold, like a hunter locking onto prey.

Then he moved.

The Nimbus 2001 let out that deep roar again. This time, it did not climb, but shot diagonally forward at an almost horizontal angle, streaking toward the Ravenclaw stands like lightning. His body had nearly become one with the broom, and he flew like a cannonball fired from a barrel, so fast that he left a dark green afterimage in the rain.

Harry's mind had not yet caught up, but his body instinctively gave chase. He had no idea how Draco could ignore drag and gravity. He was already struggling; the bristles of the Nimbus 2000 carved a trail through the rain, and the broom trembled violently beneath him as if it were saying, "I've done all I can."

He could not catch up.

Within seconds, Draco had crossed most of the pitch. Under his control, the Nimbus 2001 moved like a nimble swallow, coming to an abrupt stop in the rain above the Ravenclaw stands. Then he reached out and calmly, steadily plucked something from the gray curtain of rain.

Golden.

The tiny Golden Snitch struggled frantically between his fingers. Its wings beat so fast they were nearly invisible, producing a faint buzz like a bee's wings.

But Draco's fingers were like iron pincers, utterly unmoving.

He raised the Snitch before his eyes and tilted his head to look at it. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, then