The Sunrise of My Heart

Almost three weeks after the first D.A. meeting, the first Quidditch game of the year was approaching rapidly, and it was Slytherin versus Gryffindor. Needless to say, my loyalties were a little crossed. I was mainly rooting for my own team though. I mean hey, I'm still a Slytherin after all.
Draco seemed to planning something evil, too, for this Quidditch game, and I had a feeling it involved Ron. He was the Gryffindor's new Keeper, and was pretty good, except when he got embarrassed or disgruntled.

"Look," Draco said gleefully to me the day before the match. He was holding a badge in the shape of a crown, which read Weasley Is Our King.

"Oh no," I muttered to myself, then to him said, "What does that mean? You worship Ron now?"

Draco smirked and shook his head. "You'll see," was all he said, causing me to bite my lip. This couldn't be good. One problem with spending so much time with Gryffindors was that I missed out on some of what the Slytherins were planning, so I couldn't do anything about it. And in this case, I was once again too late to stop it.

The next morning, I awoke early, feeling happy because it was November, because it was Quidditch, and because I'm just naturally a morning person sometimes. From Pansy's side of the room, I could hear humming. Curious, I turned to her.

"Well this is new. You're not usually a morning person. What's that you're humming?"

"That song Draco wrote," she said with a delighted giggle. "It's so clever!"

"Yeah," I said, having no idea what she was talking about. "I guess I'm still really tired or something, but I can't remember the lyrics. I've got the tune remembered, of course. But what are the words again?"

My heart sank, word by word, as Pansy loudly sang the lyrics to Draco's song, more Slytherin girls joining in as she did. So that was what Weasley Is Our King meant. Oh, poor Ron would never recover from this. Which I knew was why Draco was doing it. To better his chances at winning the game.

I grabbed Draco by the arm on our way to breakfast, smiling at him to make him happy before I begged him not to sing the song. Before I could say anything, though, he held out a badge to me.
"You want one?" he asked. "I heard Pansy and the others singing the song this morning. The Weasel won't know what hit him," he sneered.

"Look, Draco, could you please not sing that song?" I pleaded. "It's really awful."

"So? That's the point. I want the Gryffindors to lose, and I want everyone to see how pathetic Weasley is when he lets every single Quaffle in."

"Draco, Ron's not pathetic, and he does actually block Quaffles. In fact he's pretty good..." When he's not being teased, I added in my thoughts.

"Not when we verbally attack him," Draco said in a coldly happy voice. "And today, we're really going to show him how worthless he is. Send him straight back to that bin he was born in."

"Seriously, no. That's horrible. Ron is my friend, and what you're doing is really nasty. And besides, even if we win this way, we won't have won out of talent, we'll have won out of luck and almost cheating."

"A win is a win," he answered, giving me a slightly distasteful look. We had stopped in the hallway to talk, and he leaned up against a wall, crossing his arms. "Are you really siding with them? You're acting like a Gryffindor, you know. All noble, whiny, and annoying. You should start acting like the Slytherin prince's girlfriend, since that's what you are. You're not one of them, you're one of us, and it's about time you started acting like it and stopped behaving so stupidly."

Now it was my turn to cross my arms and raise an eyebrow. "I'm behaving stupidly, am I, and I'm acting whiny and annoying? Well. So how exactly should the "Slytherin prince's" girlfriend behave?"

"For one, you need to dump those damned pathetic friends of yours. For another, you need to stop nagging on me every time I do something against the Gryffindors. They're beneath us. They don't matter."

"So basically you're saying that I'm beneath you and I don't matter, unless I'm behaving the way you want me to? Yeah, that's not gonna happen. You need to rethink a few things, or else I'll be rethinking this relationship," I warned.

At this point, people were filing out of the Great Hall and streaming down to the Quidditch field. I pulled my silver and green scarf off, thrust it at Draco, and stalked off, catching up with the Gryffindor team. Without a word, I pulled George's scarlet and gold scarf off and wrapped it around my neck.

"You guys seriously need to win this match, ok? Because I'm pissed at Draco."

Fred and George smirked at each other and then each wrapped an arm around my waist as we walked. "Anything for you, gorgeous," they said in unison, causing me to laugh.

As the game wore on, I stood with the Gryffindors, cheering on their team. When the other Slytherins began to sing Weasley Is Our King, I sighed softly and closed my eyes, knowing what would happen. Ron would become embarrassed and flustered by the rude song and would let Quaffles in, Slytherins would become encouraged by this and would sing louder, and the cycle would get even worse. Sure enough, I could hear Lee Jordan commentating, and heard when Slytherins gained 10 points.

"Come on, Ron," I muttered. "You can do it. Just drown them out. You can do it."

But again and again, I heard Slytherin score. They were up to forty points before Gryffindor finally managed to score. The difference was 30 points, but if Ron pulled it together or Harry caught the Snitch, Gryffindor could still win.

I closed my eyes, my mind drifting away from the game on to a different subject. I was wondering if I really should break up with Draco. Lately, I had been disagreeing with a lot of the things he'd been doing, and I couldn't ignore the way he was constantly attacking my friends. And today, some of the things that he'd said both infuriated me and hurt me. We'd been dating for 10 months, which was a lot to just let go of because of some differences, but in the end, those differences meant a lot, both on personal and relational levels. I was still trying to decide what to do when...

"GRYFFINDOR WINS!!" Lee Jordan shouted exuberantly, causing me to open my eyes. Harry, I saw, had caught the Snitch mere moments before Draco could. The crowd around me was screaming its glee, bouncing and cheering like they'd won the House Cup or something.

"Yes, very good," Luna said, coming up beside me. "I was hoping they would win. Were you voting for them too?" she asked airily, looking at my Gryffindor scarf.

"Yep. I'm having a sort of out with the Slytherins," I answered.

"I see," she said serenely before walking away.

I pushed back my thoughts of Draco and followed the surging crowd onto the pitch, beaming at Fred and George. "I knew you boys wouldn't let me down! Congratulations!" I hugged both of them, feeling happier with them around.

"Saved Weasley's neck, haven't you?" Draco asked, coming up behind Harry, Fred and George. His face was white with fury, but he was still sneering. "I've never seen a worse Keeper... But then he was 'born in a bin'. Did you like my lyrics, Potter?"

"Shut up, Malfoy," I snapped. He stared at me, his eyes cold and unreadable, before turning back to Harry, pretending like I wasn't even there.

"We wanted to write another couple versus," he called to Harry. "But we couldn't find rhymes for fat and ugly -- we wanted to sing about his mother, see -- and we couldn't fit in useless loser either -- for his father, you know."

Fred and George, of course, had stiffened and were glaring at Draco, their eyes narrowed into slits.
"Easy," I said, resting one hand on each of their arms. "Don't take the bait." Then, I addressed Draco. "Draco, you have no room to speak about other people's parents. Isn't your dad like Voldemort's bitch or something? If Voldy needs a foot rub, your dad does it. If Voldy needs a bath, your dad sponges him. If Voldy needs a blow job, your dad opens wide." Draco's hands began trembling at those words, his breathing grew faster, and his eyes narrowed into little slits. But still, he ignored me, pretending like I didn't even exist.

"But you like the Weasleys, don't you, Potter?" Malfoy continued, pleased to see he was getting a reaction. "Spend holidays there and everything, don't you? Can't see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you've been dragged up by Muggles even the Weasleys' hovel smells okay." Katie, Angelina, and Alicia were all trying very hard to restrain Fred, while Harry was holding George back.

"Or perhaps," Draco continued, leering as he backed away, "you can remember what your mother's house stank like, Potter, and Weasley's pigsty reminds you of it--"

Before anyone could do anything, both Harry and George were on top of Draco, punching every inch of him they could reach, slamming their fists into his face, stomach, arms, everywhere. "Harry, George, No!" I yelled, trying to pull them off. They only shoved me away, still beating Malfoy. Finally, Madam Hooch forced them off, her eyes livid. After a few moments of screaming at them, she sent them to their Head of House, and they left. Everyone else was still standing around, either murmuring excitedly or else stunned to silence.

"You're a complete ass," I told Malfoy. "I can't believe I wasted 10 months pretending like you're not. Because deep down, all you are is a spoiled nobody with superiority problems. And you're so not worth my time." And without another word, I turned and stalked away from the Quidditch pitch, going to the Room of Requirements. I would sleep there for the night, and figure out what to do the rest of the time at a later date.