Theo's mouth quirked into a shark like grin, "Eight sickles Draco takes you flying."
Adrian turned and looked at Theo with a distinctly unimpressed expression, "You just want to see me look like an idiot."
Theo shrugged although he was genuine as he spoke.
"I actually just want to see you fly. Can't imagine you doing it, and Merlin knows it would cheer up Draco. Maybe liven things up a bit around here since all that Chambers of Secrets shite."
"I don't think you can fly," Daphne added in charmingly, "I'll throw in a Galleon."
Theo gave Adrian a meaningful look.
"That's a bit of gold there, Harry."
Adrian flinched violently and glared at Theo, "Don't call me that."
Daphne tilted her head in a formal nod and smiled.
Gryffindor won the match unfortunately even while Skylar suffered the consequence of Lockhart's mediocre excuse of spell work. The scored points before Draco ended the match leant in Gryffindor's favor.
The Slytherin team instead told stories of Skylar's unfortunate ailment over and over, each retelling becoming more and more preposterous. It was shared in the common room with laughter and smuggled pints of Butterbeer; they may have lost but Potter was trapped in Hospital Wing for a week.
Draco, once informed by a suave Greengrass, was thrilled with Adrian's deal. As unorthodox as it was in comparison to Adrian's usual careful bartering, he was rather trapped in. Galleons for humiliation and ridicule.
Hermione had better enjoy those premium ingredients, that's what those coins were being used for.
Adrian was escorted outside onto the Quidditch pitch by a small train of eager bystanders. Most were other yearmates, although a few fifth years and Ravenclaws trailed behind.
They didn't have any of the Quidditch team's balls or equipment, the team was rather paranoid with meddling after someone bewitched the Gryffindor's bludger to target Skylar. Instead, Daphne offered to shoot sparks or other illusions into the air for Draco to weave between. The intention was to teach Adrian the finer aspects of flying, although Draco could only avoid flaunting for so long.
"You hold the broom like this," Draco instructed, grasping his broom in a peculiar fashion, "Although I always have a reverse grip since it makes it easier to dive suddenly..."
Adrian glanced pitifully at Theo. Theo shook a handful of coins in his fist, rattling them audibly.
Pansy handed the spare broom to Adrian. It was one of the Nimbus Two Thousand and One's, sleek and more streamline than anything Adrian had ever used. Likely more expensive than the entire Gryffindor team's stock put together.
Racing and Quidditch brooms were built with a series of safeguards and regulations. Knowing the Slytherin team, Adrian wouldn't be surprised if all those securities were disabled.
Bellatrix was going to kill him if he fell.
Draco mounted his broom with well-practiced ease and secured his hands in the unique grip. He settled and watched Adrian patiently although expectantly.
Adrian tightened his fist unsurely on the broom- it felt too flimsy to support his weight.
He could only imagine Lutain laughing at him, the snake would be nearly hysterical at Adrian's uncharacteristic fear.
With a slow exhale and a few internal curse words, he stepped over the tail end of the broom. His foot secured on the other side. Now straddling the charmed wood, he glanced at Draco who visibly brightened at seeing his cooperation.
Draco hunched forward slightly, keeping his feet firmly on the ground although poised r to jump at a moment's notice; Adrian mimicked his position although he didn't find it by any means comfortable.
"Push off with your feet, careful not to yank up on the broom." Draco advised, gently floating into the air in demonstration. He overemphasized his movements, showing how to twist and angle his direction.
Adrian pushed off with a feather light hop. There was a gut-wrenching moment where Adrian was sure he was going to teeter sideways and crash to the ground.
The broom held him aloft, he released the breath he had been holding.
Draco slid next to Adrian and reached across to angle the broom handle upwards. Adrian followed the movement, marveling as they begin ascending higher into the air.
The miniscule crowd below cheered as they finally reached the bottom rim of the lowest goal post.
"You're not bad at this," Draco noted relaxed. He withdrew his hand, slinking back several paces to allow Adrian to spin in a lazy circle.
"Not bad at spinning like a show-kneazle?" Adrian dryly snarked, unsettled by all the eyes watching his movements.
Adrian tested the brooms capabilities to sharply rise. The broom handle jerked upwards and smacked into his face, nearly triggering a bloody nose.
Draco chuckled at the movement, darting forward to grab his shaft and tug it back parallel to the ground below.
It took half an hour for Adrian to adequately maneuver the broom. At such a point Draco tailed him through small turns and dives.
"Want to make this more fun?" Draco asked, pulling out a galleon from his pocket. The large golden coin caught the mid-afternoon sun and shone brightly.
Adrian bitterly thought how unfair it was that all purebloods had so many galleons to throw around.
Draco dropped it.
....
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