Chapter 20

Guilt

Miles' smile instantly faded when he saw Harry looking at him with a guilt-inducing expression. He hadn't meant to laugh at Draco's impression of the two, and he'd really only been laughing at his imitation of Ron. Granted, he knew that wasn't much better, as Ron was Harry's friend.

His friends resumed the conversation, though they changed it to accommodate the recent events. Miles hardly noticed. He was too busy watching as Harry and Ron finished up their breakfast and all but ran out of the Great Hall, Hermione in tow. She seemed to be trying to reassure them, though to no avail.

Miles couldn't blame them, to be honest. He knew his fellow students, namely Draco, would see what had happened as Harry trying to get more attention. The truth was that his brother didn't want any such thing, but he knew arguing would be pointless. That was why he didn't even try to reason with Draco, as he knew the other boy's view of Harry was so tarnished already that nothing would change it. 

He thought about going after Harry, but what would he say? That he was sorry? He was pretty sure that was the last thing Harry wanted to hear right now, especially from Miles. He just wanted to be left alone, and while it took everything in him not to run out after him, he had to respect that. 

Miles should've known that something else would have happened after the events of the Great Hall that morning. They'd been walking around the courtyard, him and Draco. Crabbe and Goyle had made yet another attempt to talk to the other boy, but fortunately, a confrontation had been avoided.

Little did Miles know, a confrontation was bound to occur that day. He saw them from across the courtyard, a boy aiming a camera at Harry, obviously hoping for a picture. It surprised him, as he'd never been asked for one himself by a student at Hogwarts, despite being mobbed by wizarding photographers everywhere he went.

Yet another reason he loved Hogwarts, they weren't allowed there. Though it seemed that some students were hoping to change that. Oh, joy.

The boy continued to talk about something, and as they moved closer they heard the last bit.

"-maybe your friend could take it and I could stand next to you? And then, you could sign it?"

Miles immediately turned to Draco, silently warning him not to react, but it was too late.

"Signed photos? You're giving out signed photos, Potter?" his voice echoed around the courtyard, causing people walking by to stop and watch.

"Draco no-" Miles tried to pull the other boy back as the gestured towards the crowd.

"Everyone line up!" he shouted. "Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!" 

Harry stormed up towards him, Ron close behind. Miles gave up on trying to stop Draco and stepped back. He would intervene if something more than words was exchanged between the two of them. 

"No, I'm not. Shut up, Malfoy!" Harry's hands were balled up into fists, and Miles hoped he was right in assuming that it was just for show. He couldn't imagine Harry ever striking someone, but Draco could be an exception. After all, they despised one another. 

The first year put his two cents in. "You're just jealous."

Miles closed his eyes, not wanting to watch. The circumstances were just getting worse as the altercation dragged on. 

"Jealous?" Draco scoffed, looking around at the crowd. "Of what? I don't fancy being nearly killed by dark wizards, thanks. I don't think having a foul scar on my face like that makes you all that special, myself."

It was as though time had stopped. He saw them exchange more words, but didn't hear a word of it. Those words repeated over and over in his head, scornful and mocking. He knew Draco probably hadn't been thinking, but if anything, those words applied to Miles more than they did to Harry. 

His brother had gained recognition for surviving two encounters with Voldemort, and of course for this latest bit with the car. Miles, however, had attained fame at an early age for nearly being killed by Voldemort. Neither of them had wanted it, but what Draco had said...

He stormed away, not bothering to see what happened as he left the courtyard. Maybe it was an overreaction, but that had hurt. 

★

Miles hadn't spoken to Draco for several days now. He knew the other boy had been making attempts to catch him in their suite, or after class, but Miles made sure he couldn't. They used to sit together at the same table in most classes, but Miles had taken to going to the other side of the room. 

Of course, the one situation where he couldn't avoid interaction with the other boy was Quidditch. Both of them had made the team, and Draco's father had provided all the boys with Nimbus 2001's. This prompted several people to accuse Draco of buying his way in. Miles stood up for him, but only when he wasn't there to see it. 

Today, there would be no avoiding him. They had Quidditch practice today, and Flint had personally gone to get a note from Professor Snape for permission. That was why Miles was talking to the boy at breakfast that morning.

"Flint, you know that the Gryffindor team booked the pitch."

"So? We need to practice."

"So do they."

"What do you care? If I didn't know better I'd say you wanted the Gryffindors to beat us." That had their teammates looking at him interestedly, and Miles knew he had to turn the tables back in his favor.

"No, of course not, but I just think that they do have the rights to the pitch."

Flint smirked and held out a piece of parchment for him to read. Miles took it.

I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker and Chaser.

He sighed as he handed it back, knowing that the battle was lost. While he knew neither he nor Draco needed the training, neither of them had ever played on a team before and thus needed to get a feel for it. The Gryffindors wouldn't be happy about it, but at the same time, he doubted they'd do the same for him. 

They finished breakfast and head out to the pitch. Miles had looked for the team at the Gryffindor table, but upon not finding any of them, he knew they must have gone to the pitch early. It looked as though the other team was in for a rude awakening. 

After changing into their robes in the locker room, the team made their way out to the pitch, brand-new broomsticks in their hands. The Gryffindor team captain had made his way down upon seeing them and dismounted as the rest of the Gryffindors joined him. 

"Flint!" Oliver Wood bellowed. "This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!"

Marcus Flint towered over him, which said something about his height, as Wood was by no means short himself. "Plenty of room for all of us, Wood." he sneered. 

"But I booked the field! I booked it!" Wood was practically spitting with rage, and Miles felt quite sorry for him and the rest of the team. 

In response, Flint brandished the note Miles had seen at breakfast. "Ah, see, I've got here a specially signed note from Professor Snape." Wood read it, and looked around at the team, distracted. 

"You've got a new Seeker and Chaser? Where are they?"

Taking that as his cue, Miles walked up from behind the five larger boys alongside Draco.

"Miles? And aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" Fred Weasley asked.

Miles internally groaned, wishing Fred hadn't mentioned Lucius Malfoy. "Funny you should mention Draco's father," Flint drawled. Knew it. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team.

Reluctantly, Miles joined the other boys in holding out his broomstick, with its finely polished handle and fine gold lettering glinting in the morning sun. 

"Very latest model. Only came out last month," said Flint carelessly, flicking a speck of dust from the end of his own. "I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps"—he smiled nastily at Fred and George, who were both clutching Cleansweep Fives—"sweeps the board with them."

The Gryffindor team had been struck dumb. Miles looked up to make eye contact with Harry, who was staring at him and the brooms in disbelief. He knew he'd have no chance trying to convince his brother that Draco hadn't bought his way into the team, that the gift had only been given after he'd been named Seeker. It didn't help that Draco was smirking at the other team, specifically at Harry, no doubt reveling in the other boy's shock. 

As though things couldn't get any worse, Ron and Hermione were making their way down the field. "Oh look, a field invasion," Flint said, making no attempt to hide the amusement in his voice.

"What's happening?" asked Ron. "Why aren't you all playing? And what are those two doing here?"

Miles, who'd never been all too fond of the redhead, joined Draco in telling the news. "I'm the new Chaser-"

"-And I'm the new Seeker for the Slytherin team, Weasley. Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team."

Oh, why did he have to say that? 

Draco continued. "Good, aren't they? But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them." This prompted the Slytherins to howl with laughter, except Miles, who was trying to pretend he wasn't there.

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," said Hermione sharply. "They got in on pure talent."

Miles looked up from his trainers sharply. Draco's smug expression disappeared to be replaced with one of anger. "No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," he spat.

He heard a gasp, only to realize it was from his own mouth. The rest of the players didn't have reactions much better than his. Fred and George made to jump on Draco but Flint had dived in front of him as soon as he'd spoken those words. Alicia Spinnet was shrieking, "How dare you?!" in Draco's direction. 

Ron shouted, "You'll pay for that one Malfoy!" as he pointed his wand at Draco.

There was a bang that echoed throughout the stadium as a jet of green light from Ron's wand shot out of the wrong end and hit him in the stomach, sending him sprawling across the grass.

"Ron! Ron! Are you all right?" squealed Hermione.

In response, the redhead opened his mouth, and with a mighty belch, several slugs dribbled out of his mouth and onto his lap.

Miles couldn't help it, he snickered. His reaction was nothing to the rest of the Slytherins though. Flint was doubled over, clutching his broomstick for support. Draco was on all fours, actually banging the ground with his fist in hilarity. 

The Gryffindor team surrounded Ron, though none of them seemed to want to touch him. At last, after a few words were exchanged with the lot of them, which Miles couldn't hear over the laughter, Harry and Hermione had helped Ron up and set off in the general direction of Hagrid's cabin with him.

The boy with the camera whom they'd seen the other day ran up to the group and attempted to point his camera at Ron. Miles saw his enthusiasm falter at a sharp rebuke from Harry, who pushed past him with Ron and Hermione.

As the Slytherin team's laughter finally died down a bit and the boy made his way up to the castle dejectedly, Miles looked at his brother's receding back. He wasn't sure what to do, what to even think anymore.