Not only was she Draco’s childhood friend, but as a fellow member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, Pansy immediately recognized the origin of the banner.
What she didn’t expect was that Goyle and Crabbe would actually think to use it as a morale booster at a time like this.
Of course, aside from the Slytherin wizards, hardly anyone else present could grasp the banner’s significance.
Still, whether the others knew or not, Pansy felt she needed to confirm it.
After all, without the Malfoy patriarch’s permission, there was no way Goyle and Crabbe could’ve gotten their hands on it. And if they’d done it on their own, the consequences would be serious. Pansy figured she had to warn them.
Just as she frowned, about to speak, Goyle beat her to it.
“Draco’s mother ordered it from that magic shop in Diagon Alley.”
“Professor Snape handed it to us this morning.”
Goyle and Crabbe took turns explaining how they got the banner, laying it all out clearly.
Hearing their explanation, Pansy finally relaxed.
“So that’s how it is?”
Murmuring to herself, she watched the banner flutter in the wind as Goyle waved it.
The little princess of the Parkinson family had a glint in her eyes—one that was hard to read, but unmistakably eager.
“Hold it higher! Put some strength into it!”
...
Not content to just watch, Pansy strode over to Goyle’s side and started giving directions.
Her behavior didn’t surprise Goyle and Crabbe one bit—this was exactly why they called her their boss lady.
In a moment like this, charged with passion and excitement, no one thought Pansy’s actions were strange.
Because this was Quidditch...
“Let me try!”
“Ah… okay.”
It might’ve looked silly at first, but the moment Pansy saw those smug Gryffindors across the pitch, she couldn’t hold back. She snatched the banner from Goyle, took his place, and began waving it with all her strength.
Compared to Goyle’s quiet waving, Pansy was much more effective.
“Who are we!”
“Slytherin!!”
She planted one foot on the edge of the wall, leading the chant with full energy.
Honestly, our wild little princess was kind of adorable like this...
...
While Pansy was doing her best to crush the other side’s momentum, the two teams began arriving on the pitch.
Unlike professional games, Hogwarts Quidditch matches didn’t have a grand entrance ceremony.
But that didn’t do anything to dampen the students’ excitement.
“Go, go, go!”
“Show those despicable Slytherins what we’re made of!”
“Let those stupid half-bloods see how strong Slytherin is!”
If Gryffindor was going after Slytherin specifically, then the Slytherin wizards were lashing out at everyone.
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean!”
“Are you trying to provoke us?”
“Come on! Make those arrogant Slytherins regret it!”
Sure enough, the already lopsided cheering now tilted entirely toward Gryffindor—even the neutral students started joining in...
Draco, stepping onto the field, wasn’t particularly fazed by the shouting. What struck him more was just how intense the wizarding world’s obsession with Quidditch was.
The loud chants, the fists punching the air, the determined faces of his opponents—it all showed how deeply they loved the sport.
And especially that small figure in the Slytherin stands made Draco’s face twitch with exasperation.
Still, thanks to Pansy’s cheering, the cold, intimidating aura he usually carried faded just a little.
That subtle shift made the anxious Slytherin players breathe a sigh of relief. To the untrained eye, it might’ve looked like nerves.
But the truth was, it was all because of the presence of Draco, leading them at the front...
"Wood, did you notice something off about the Slytherin team today?"
"Yeah, I did. Be on guard during the match—especially you, Harry. Watch out for any dirty tricks."
Since Gryffindor’s team was closest to the Slytherins, they quickly picked up on the odd atmosphere and suspected the other side was up to no good again.
But Harry, instead of responding to his captain’s warning, stood frozen, staring blankly at the opposing team.
Noticing Harry’s strange reaction, Oliver Wood followed his line of sight...
"Harry, what are you looking at... huh?"
"What is it, Wood? Did you see something?"
"Wait—where’s Marcus Flint? I didn’t hear anything about him missing today’s match!"
At Wood’s outburst, the rest of the team also started scanning the field for the Slytherin captain.
But just like Wood, they couldn’t spot Flint anywhere.
The captain not playing?
You’ve got to be kidding...
"Wait, Wood, look at that guy’s chest."
"No way..."
"How could it be him?"
"The Malfoy family..."
Each Quidditch player had their designated spot, and the captain had a specific place to stand as well.
But now, the one who should have been there for Slytherin had been replaced.
And standing there with a cold, indifferent look on his face—was Draco Malfoy...