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Bitch, please. You know you just wanted to bruise up all that pale skin. In fact, it’s disturbing how very porny this scene was. Of course he wanted to cause Malfoy as much pain as possible. Malfoy’s hurt him; thus, he must hurt Malfoy+++++he saw the Snitch's silver wings protruding from between his fingers, struggling for release++The Snitch, crushed in his hand as he fought, and now desperate for release. THIS IS SUCH A FUCKING METAPHOR FOR SEX AND ORGASM, PEOPLE. JESUS H. CHRIST WILL SOMEONE BACK ME UP HERE. +

Let’s go:

Harry was not aware of releasing George, all he knew was that a second later both of them were sprinting towards Malfoy. He had completely forgotten that all the teachers were watching: all he wanted to do was cause Malfoy as much pain as possible; with no time to draw out his wand, he merely drew back the fist clutching the Snitch and sank it as hard as he could into Malfoy's stomach.

Whew. *fans self* I’m okay. Harry, however is not: he’s snapped. I’m going to have to take another second to do a fairly restrained victory dance, because, you know, Control. I knew he had it in him. That’s my boy. *tear*

So Harry loses control (*glee*)(okay, I’ll stop). It’s not like our Harry’s always been on the straight and narrow, of course. He’s always been the rule-breaking type, but in an intelligent way; he’s always been careful about not getting caught, and doing what he has to do for the greater good. Even in this, the volume where he embraces his angst and flails angrily in the general direction of the world, he’s been more bitchy than outright psycho. He’s dealt with Draco’s teasing for years, snarking back or just glaring, even as his friends have lost their tempers: Ron, more than once, even level-headed Hermione saw fit to slap the shit out of him. But now he goes off.

Harry’s always been very aware of authority. First the Dursleys, then Dumbledore, Snape, Fudge, Umbridge. It’s a measure of his anger that he complete forgets that teachers are watching, when he’s spent the previous four years almost hyper-aware of the authority figures that could keep him away from Hogwarts and the life he loves so dearly.
Perhaps it was simply a case being in the right place and saying the right things to hit Harry so hard. After all, it’s not like it’s a new thing, Draco insulting Ron, or the Weasley family, or even Lily and James. It would almost be like the situation between Harry and Draco coming to a head, all the insults, snarking, and petty bitching. I don’t think it is, though. Harry doesn’t seem to be at a particularly vulnerable point emotionally, barring general teen angst and the “wah my life is so hard” shtick he’s been pulling for the most of the book. I think it was more that Harry was just at that point where the entire world seems to be against you, and life sucks and hormones are all “AIEEEE” and then someone says the wrong thing and then suddenly you’re like “MOTHERFUCKING GODDAMN SONOFABITCH” and you kind of hit anything available, even if it’s a wall or a table or perfectly innocent couch.

Also, obviously, he wants to touch Draco. I mean, come on, there was no time to draw out his wand? Bitch, please. You know you just wanted to bruise up all that pale skin. In fact, it’s disturbing how very porny this scene was. Of course he wanted to cause Malfoy as much pain as possible. Malfoy’s hurt him; thus, he must hurt Malfoy. I think all these years their fighting could be written off as Malfoy jumping up and down all “look at me, Potter, look at meeeee!” and Harry being all “wha? Hmm? Oh right, yeah, darn you, Malfoy” but now we know it almost for certain. Malfoy’s gotten to Harry, all right. His insults have dug beneath Harry’s skin to the point that Harry seems ready to beat Malfoy unconscious, which I would say makes them pretty fucking effective. There are many different ways to interpret Harry’s feelings for Malfoy, but I no longer think that indifference is a reasonable option, because you’d have to feel pretty goddamned strongly toward someone to attack them like that.

And of course, there’s the whole detail with Harry clutching the Snitch. You know, as far as I’m concerned this is the great H/D fanfiction cliché that never was. As soon as I read it, it made as much sense as fighting turned to fucking, detentions turned to fucking, and rolling around on the Quidditch field turned to, well, fucking. I mean, is that not symbolically fucking beautiful or what? He holds his victory in his fist and uses that same fist to pound Malfoy into the grass, proving his superiority not only in the sky, but on the ground. He wins and wins and even with the spoils still clutched in his hand he needs to beat Malfoy again. Needs to prove himself.

And yeah, porn? Shit like this is why I’m so utterly convinced of Top!Harry and bottom!Draco. Because, yo. Yo. Argue the point if you can, but I’m not tryin’ to hear that. Draco is destined to take it from Harry, in the classroom, in the hallways, on the field and in the bedroom. And I didn’t mean that all in the porny sense, but you know, feel free to go there.

'Harry! HARRY! GEORGE! NO!'

He could hear girls' voices screaming, Malfoy yelling, George swearing, a whistle blowing and the bellowing of the crowd around him, but he did not care. Not until somebody in the vicinity yelled 'Impedimenta!' and he was knocked over backwards by the force of the spell, did he abandon the attempt to punch every inch of Malfoy he could reach.

Firstly, and I think the most important point to note: Malfoy is a screamer. That’s all sit back and appreciate that thought for a minute.

Okay, are we good? Okay. Now: it takes a spell to get Harry off of Malfoy. A spell strong enough to knock him on his ass. Damn, Harry. DAMN. Did you forget that George was even supposed to be involved in this fight? Yeah, me too. I think it was mostly Harry at this point. This was his fight. And really, every inch of Malfoy that he could reach? Motherfucking ouch. And I’m about to come over all swoony at the thought of all those bruises (you’d think the fight!wank would have gotten it out of my system. No.), so let’s move on.

'What do you think you're doing?' screamed Madam Hooch, as Harry leapt to his feet. It seemed to have been her who had hit him with the Impediment Jinx; she was holding her whistle in one hand and a wand in the other; her broom lay abandoned several feet away. Malfoy was curled up on the ground, whimpering and moaning, his nose bloody; George was sporting a swollen lip; Fred was still being forcibly restrained by the three Chasers, and Crabbe was cackling in the background. 'I've never seen behaviour like it - back up to the castle, both of you, and straight to your Head of House's office! Go! Now.'

Dude. DUDE. Did we see this? I’ma show you again: Crabbe was cackling in the background. What the shit? Draco, baby? Those minions of yours? Not up to par. In fact, I think this one passage complete redefines the roles of Crabbe and Goyle. Bodyguards? Like fuck they are. Thugs? Uh, no. Friends? I wouldn’t even go that far. Because Goyle was off doing whatever the fuck (where did he GO?) and Crabbe just stands there. And fucking CACKLES. Um? He lets Draco get slammed by Harry, of all people, and just stands there? Jigga what?

Why haven’t we noticed this, people? I mean, I recognize that Crabbe and Goyle aren’t exactly fan favorites, but shit. Their relative roles have been completely altered. What are they now? Cos I sure as fuck don’t know.

Lest we forget: Draco curled up, whimpering and moaning (aslkjfsdf). Aside from giving me the shivers, this further reaffirms my image of Draco as a complete bottom. I also think he likes the taste of blood, but that may be due in part to my vampire!Draco kink. Um. What.

I gave some thought to George’s swollen lip as compared to Harry’s almost complete lack of injury. In the fight!wank fic, I explain this as Draco getting in one good hit. I pondered the thought of Harry being so involved in beating Draco to a pulp that he accidentally swung back and elbowed George in the face, but you know. Had to give Draco something. And I like the idea of Draco being perfectly willing to hit a Weasley, but becoming defenseless in the face of Harry’s rage. *squirms* You may think this is a thoughtful essay, but really it’s just another run-down of my many kinks. Mmmyep.

Harry and George turned on their heels and marched off the pitch, both panting, neither saying a word to the other. The howling and jeering of the crowd grew fainter and fainter until they reached the Entrance Hall, where they could hear nothing except the sound of their own footsteps. Harry became aware that something was still struggling in his right hand, the knuckles of which he had bruised against Malfoy's jaw. Looking down, he saw the Snitch's silver wings protruding from between his fingers, struggling for release.

HAHAHAHAHA. I’m sorry. I really love that Harry’s only injury is on his knuckles. That are bruised. From MALFOY’S JAW. Ahahahahaha. God that’s perfect.

And panting! Hmm. Yes. *pervs* I like to think that the jeering in the crowd were the girls who were like hit him harder! Beat him, Harry! Take it off! Which girls, you ask? Why, Mary Sue Slytherin and her shiny-haired friends, of course. *cough*

Of course he’s still holding the Snitch. Goddamnit, JKR. <3!!

STRUGGLING FOR RELEASE. I’m sorry, that phrase deserves its own paragraph. Look at it. Struggling for release. Protruding from between his fingers. Hello, erection metaphor. Erection metaphor, do you copy. The Snitch, crushed in his hand as he fought, and now desperate for release. THIS IS SUCH A FUCKING METAPHOR FOR SEX AND ORGASM, PEOPLE. JESUS H. CHRIST WILL SOMEONE BACK ME UP HERE.

*breathes* Because see, he held it in his hand, clutched tightly as he pounded Draco. Harder and harder, every bit of him that he could reach. Pounding him until, what? What if no one had stopped him? Would he have beaten Draco until he was in tears, unconscious, dead? Until the fury in him, the anger and sweat and bone-snapping tension all built and built until he couldn’t even breathe, couldn’t think, could do nothing but pant and gasp and fall limp down onto Draco, fingers uncurling and releasing the Snitch, letting it flutter back into the sky as he shuddered and shook and tried to remember how to breathe again?

Struggling for release. That’s what Harry was doing as he pummeled Draco, and that’s what he continues to do throughout the rest of the book. Struggle for a release from the tension that’s plaguing him. Because he never lets the Snitch go, not really. It’s no wonder he’s so goddamned bitchy all the time.

So what’s the obvious conclusion to reach here? Harry needs to get off, and Draco needs to be involved in that process. Preferably on his knees.

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