He knew, then, that Malfoy had changed, or would change, or was in the process of changing.
Harry knew, with the same surety, that he wanted to be there for it. He wanted to watch as Malfoy unfolded himself and shook out the parts that were cruel and mean and hateful. He wanted to watch for the moment when Malfoy’s limbs and heart and brain and muscles moved in a way that wasn’t heavy with unease and anger. He wanted to see a thousand more easy smiles on Malfoy’s face, it wouldn’t even matter if he hadn’t put them there himself. He wanted to see Malfoy bloom with laughter.
After the third goal, I wanted Germany to stop going for the Brazilian side. I had a feeling even the German team didn't want to shoot for the goal anymore. Brazil was so broken.
You know, they all happened so fast. All the first five happened in the first half an hour, and after that it was a mess. The Brazilian team was so lost and broken, at moments they stood there, there was no game, they didn't mark, they were so broken, it was painful to watch.
My heart was going to break for any of them today, but as I watched the game all I could think of was, 'not like this'. It was devastating.