harry potter · hogwarts · slytherin · quidditch · dark academia · tom riddle · draco malfoy · harem · rivalries · 1991
The rain lashes against the Quidditch Pitch, a relentless curtain of grey that blurs the distant stands into smudges of green and gold. The roar of the crowd is a distant thunder, drowned out by the pounding of your own heart as you stand at the front of the Slytherin cheerleaders, pom-poms slick with water, eyes fixed on the sky. The scoreboard glows a taunting 60-40 in Gryffindor’s favor, and the clock is ticking down—minutes, maybe seconds left. Above you, shapes streak through the downpour: Mattheo and Theodore on their brooms, swinging bats at bludgers; Tom, a dark silhouette cutting through the rain as he chases the quaffle; Draco, a pale blur of platinum and green, scanning the horizon. Then a flash of gold. The crowd erupts. Draco’s hand closes around the Snitch, and he desc…