He felt a rush of happiness at the thought of his oldest brother and he glanced up behind him where Bill stood sentry ensuring Harry couldn't be attacked from the back of the box. His relationship with Bill had changed since their talk in Ron's room. Bill had taken time every couple of days to come over and chat specifically with Ron; sometimes they'd play chess or they'd fly but most times they ended up like the first time – just sat on Ron's bed, talking. Ron had found himself listening to more stories of Bill and Charlie as kids as well as Bill's time at Hogwarts. Instead of switching off thinking it was Bill lording it over him for doing something first, Ron really listened and had gotten to know his brother much better.
He'd sought Charlie out himself a couple of times after that to check Bill's version of events sometimes or to ask Charlie his advice about Quidditch. He'd even confided his Quidditch dreams and Charlie was helping train Ron for the try-outs. Ron was thrilled with his brother's support.
"Here come the teams!" Harry said excitedly, elbowing Ron and drawing his attention back to the game.
Ron grinned at him, and raised the omniculars again.
For long minutes they murmured 'ooh's' and 'aah's' as the professional teams took to the skies and play began.
Harry shook his head. "They're so fast!"
"So are you on that Firebolt." Sirius pointed out.
"He's right though, they're playing very fast – it's obviously Ireland's strategy. The Bulgarian Beaters have issues with speed." Ron said authoritatively. "See?" He nudged Harry. "They can't get the bludgers anywhere near on target."
"As much as I hate to admit it he's right." Draco Malfoy said.
All of the Gryffindors turned to look at the Slytherin in shock.
"Are you feeling alright, Malfoy?" asked Neville. "You do realise you've just complimented Ron?"
Nott snorted in the background.
"I agreed with his surmising of the Irish strategy, I didn't compliment him." Malfoy snapped.
Neville huffed and returned to the action. Ron gave the back of Malfoy's head a searching look before returning his attention to the game. He'd been told very strictly by everyone that he needed to be on his best behaviour with the Slytherins. The Malfoys were part of the House of Black, as much as Ron might hate it, and he was only in the box because he was a guest of Harry's. He didn't like the snakes but he guessed he could put up with them for the length of a Quidditch match.
Hermione sighed, sat back down and pulled a book out of her backpack.
Ron stared at her. "What are you doing?"
"Reading." Hermione said slowly as though he was the odd one.
"But…" Ron waved his arms out towards the pitch and the action.
"I only came to experience the atmosphere of a professional game." Hermione explained rather snootily in Ron's opinion. "I don't really enjoy Quidditch."
"But…" Ron stuttered out.
"You watch all the Gryffindor matches." Harry said, lowering his own omniculars to look at her with faint surprise.
Hermione squirmed in her seat, her fingers tightening around the book. "That's because you play and you're my friend so I support you." She'd gone red in the face as though she was embarrassed.
Ron exchanged a look with Harry over Hermione's head. Mental, Ron thought with horror; absolutely mental. How could she not enjoy Quidditch? He returned to watching the game.
"I wish our Chasers could play like that." Malfoy said with a sigh as Ireland scored again.
"They have too much muscle on them." Ron said without thinking. "Uh…"
"Too much muscle and they're too focused on blocking rather than scoring." Zabini agreed sliding in as though Ron hadn't paused in stupefied realisation that he'd just talked to Malfoy.
"I don't understand why Flint chose them when there are better fliers in Slytherin." Nott said.
"He wanted people who could intimidate others in the air." Malfoy said shortly. "Obviously."
"You don't," Nott said, "but there again you didn't exactly try-out, did you?"
"I'm a Seeker, I don't need to intimidate anyone." Malfoy retorted. "And I think I've earned my place on the team after the last two years, thank you very much."
"When you beat Potter we'll talk." Zabini said, throwing Malfoy a teasing wink that simply infuriated the other boy.
The Gryffindors exchanged a look at the Slytherins' exchange and Ron could see Sirius's lips twitching like he wanted to grin.
Ron shook himself and returned to the match. It was a beautiful display of aerial acrobatics. Suddenly Krum moved, diving for the ground.
"He's seen the Snitch!" said Ron excitedly.
"No, he hasn't," Harry said, "the Snitch is up by the hoop. He's feinting."
Harry was right. Another minute later and Lynch, the Irish Seeker, was being helped off the ground as Krum floated back to the air.
"How the bloody hell did you see the Snitch?" demanded Nott.
"Because he's the best Seeker at Hogwarts." Ron said proudly.
Malfoy gave a loud snort but he didn't argue the point. Maybe, Ron mused, the fabled truce Harry had talked about was actually in effect.
The match wore on. Ron explained some of the more professional plays and moves to Harry and got used to the Slytherins chiming in. After half an hour, Neville had gotten comfortable enough to add his thoughts and all of the male teenagers soon congregated together, house rivalries mostly forgotten in their discussion although there was the occasional jab.
Ron slowly realised that all of the Slytherins – Malfoy included which boggled his mind – were vying to build better relationships with Harry. He was almost amused but mostly concerned. He shot Neville a look (Ron was willing to admit that Neville was much better at the political stuff) and they nodded at each other in understanding; Harry would need to be protected. He was far too forgiving and innocent sometimes.
"There's no way the Bulgarians can win this now." Harry commented. "The Irish have scored too many for them to catch up."
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