The Dragon Hearted

3: Broomsticks

 "Quidditch tryouts!" Blaise sighed, lying down on her bed. "We lost half our team since last season."

 "Quidditch?" Bay frowned.

 "Yes Quidditch," Blaise said. "Only the most popular game in the world, Bay."

 "Not in America," Bay said. "We play Quodpot."

 "Kwa-what?"

 Bay sighed. "It's a game. You have eleven people on a team. There's a ball called the Quod. You throw the Quod around before it explodes in your face. The goal of the game is to get the Quod into the pot at the end of the field, which stops it from exploding at all. Every time you put the Quod in the pot, your team gets a point."

 "Sounds like Quidditch with all Chasers and an insane cross between the Quaffle and Bludgers. Do you know anything about Quidditch, Bay? I mean, you have to have heard of it."

 "I know what it is. I've played once or twice. But Quodpot is more fun."

 "It sounds insane."

 Bay shrugged. "There've been suggestions that the person who invented it was insane. Most of those get stopped by die-hard Quodpot players and fans hexing the person who suggested it and then firing Memory Charms at him so he never remembers what his idea was in the first place."

 "Right," Blaise said, looking at her like the captain of the American National Quodpot team looked at someone who said any and all broom sports should be banned. "Er-has anyone been killed?"

 "Not too many. At least, not as many as Quidditch has killed off over the years. But then again, it hasn't been around as long."

 Blaise looked uncomfortable now. "So are you going to try out for the Quidditch team?"

 "I suppose I will. I've played Chaser in a few mock games. It's almost natural, because Quodpot, like you said, is all Chasers who need to be very, very fast."

 "I think I'll go for Beater," Blaise said. "Nobody ever wants to play defensive positions, and you can always stop yourself from being hit with a Bludger if you’re the one with a bat."

 "When are the tryouts?"

 "Tonight."

 "TONIGHT?!" Bay exploded. "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?!"

 "Well, I didn't even know what you played until tonight! If you were going to try for Beater, I wouldn't have told you! Less competition that way," Blaise added. "Why, do you need a broom mailed to you?"

 "No, as a matter of fact I don't," Bay snapped.

 "What type?"

 "A Firebolt," Bay said smugly.

 Blaise looked surprised and thrilled. "A Firebolt! One of three in the whole school! Gryffindor has Chasers on...let me think...a Cleansweep Seven, a Nimbus 2000, and another Cleansweep. But then again, their Beaters just upgraded to Nimbus 2001's, they...oh, drat, I can't tell you their Keeper's broom, they don't have one yet. But then again, Potter has a Firebolt."

 "If I play Chaser, the Seeker shouldn't get in my way."

 "True," Blaise admitted.

 "How did you know what all the Gryffindors are riding?"

 "One keeps up on such things," Blaise said airily. "Especially if one wants to join the Quidditch team."

* * * * *

 It was a clear night, and the grass rippled under a tiny breeze. A small knot of aspiring Slytherin Quidditch players stood clustered around the remaining members of the team. Draco Malfoy as captain, dressed in the green Slytherin playing robes, leaned on his broom an addressed the group.

 "I'm captain this year, on Professor Snape's orders. I know there are a few sixth and seventh years in this group. If you make the team, you will be older than me. But you will not have seniority, and I won't take any backtalk from you. If you don't behave or don't perform well, you're off the team. I'm sure I'll be able to find a replacement."

 "Knows what he's doing, doesn't he?" Bay murmured to Blaise.

 "Giving orders comes naturally to him," she whispered back.

 "If you plan on becoming a Chaser, go over with Nott and Avery. Would-be Beaters and Keepers, follow me. Move!" he barked.

 "Drill sergeant," Bay said as she and Blaise moved off in different directions.

 Blaise said nothing.

 "We're going to watch you broom sprint," Charles Avery said. "To the posts over there and back. Pick up one of those scraps hanging on the posts to prove you really went over."

 I've got it made, Bay thought, smirking inside and outside. I've got a Firebolt...let's see, my hardest competition is a Nimbus 2001. If I can't beat him, I sure as hell don't deserve this broom.

 Nott and Avery hovered in the air. "In a line!" Adrian Nott bellowed. "One-two-THREE!"

 The ground was hard and firm. Bay got a good kickoff and went rocketing ahead of the rest of the group. She was back again by the time most of the others were still picking rags off the hoop.

 "Nice broom, Verite," Adrian said admiringly. "Your folks must have been in a good mood lately."

 "Oh no," she laughed. "My classmates all pitched in. It's a going away present."

 "You've sure got some nice friends," Charles said.

 She would have replied, but by now the pack was back. "Don't worry," Adrian whispered as he went past her. "You've made the team. The rest of this is just a formality." He winked at her.

 "Line up!" Charles shouted. "We're pairing you off for a Chaser's scrimmage. You lot at that end-" this was the slowest group, who had just come in "-you'll defend those hoops. The rest of you, defending these," he added, gesturing at the far hoops.

 This, of course, put Bay in her element. What was Quodpot if not, as Blaise had said, an all Chasers Quidditch game? She ricocheted around the huge viewing towers with the Quaffle. Her team won 310 to 20.        Hmmm, she thought idly. This broom really works.

 When the torches started to fade a bit, Draco called in the groups. "We have to think a bit. You may leave now or go back to the dungeons. I'm sure someone with more common sense than you will tell you if you made the team later. As you know, we will only be selecting one Chaser and, rather obviously, one Keeper. Two Beaters will be selected as well. Slytherin will have no replacements this year. You have five minutes to et your hopes up."

 "I saw you scrimmaging," Blaise said.

 "I saw you practicing. Have you ever played baseball? Man, can you swing that bat."

 Blaise looked strangely at her. "What's baseball?"

 Bay shook her head exasperatedly. "Never mind."

 "You made the team."

 "I sure hope so, with this broom. You're going to make it."

 Neither of them said anything. They lounged in one of the spectator's boxes, waiting.

* * * * *

 Draco landed next to Nott and Avery. "I hope you glanced at what I was running. Holland and Zabini for Beater. Rahn for Keeper."

 "Sounds good," Nott shrugged.

 "Zabini's got quite an arm," Avery commented.

 "That's why she's on the team, obviously. Who's your Chaser candidate?"

 "Verite," Avery said. "She's got a Firebolt."

 "So do I," Draco said.

 "She can use her Firebolt."

 "Are you implying that I can't?"

 "No," Avery said quickly.

 "She can also control the Quaffle. The scrimmage was 310 to 20. Verite scored 260 goals in an hour."

 Draco nodded. "So she can play. But she's new."

 "So?"

 "Really, Nott, must I explain this to you? She's new. We don't know her family. Does she have house pride?"

 "I don't think it matters," Avery said. "She can help us win."

 "Fine. She's on. Zabini and Holland as Beaters and Rahn for Keeper. Verite for Chaser."

* * * * *

 "Come in!" Draco bellowed.

 "He's going to ruin his lungs," Blaise noted.

 "I hope not," Bay said, dismounting.

 "Slytherin team will not take the incompetent. Many of you fall into that category. The ones of you with any great skill are few. They made the team. For Keeper..." Draco paused here, smirking at the apprehensive faces. "Who did we pick, Nott? Avery, do you remember? Pity...we'll just have to think about it another few seconds..."

 "He is so cruel," Bay said under her breath.

 "Look at them squirm," Blaise laughed nervously.

 "Ahh, I remember now," Draco said. "Our Keeper is...Kerran Rahn."

 A tall brown-haired boy gave something similar to a war whoop.

 "Our Beaters are...Taiba Holland...and...yes, Zabini, you made the team."

 Blaise grinned.

 "We had more people try out for Chaser than any other position, despite the fact that there was only one slot open. Our Chaser is...oh, the agony you're going through right now. I can just see it on all your faces..."

 "Get on with it, Malfoy," a tall seventh year snapped.

 "What did you tell me to do?" Draco asked softly.

 The seventh year shifted uneasily. "I told you to hurry up."

 "Really? Nobody tells Draco Malfoy what to do, Iriangan. Needless to say, you didn't make the team."

 "Why, you arrogant little twit," the older boy said, drawing his wand.

 "Auctus!" Draco said calmly, whipping out his wand.

 It happened very slowly. First, Iriangan's hair began to grow. Then his nose enlarged. His fingers grew long and looked rubbery. Bay wanted to be sick. Iriangan screamed.

 “Go get someone with more skill and sense than you to take that curse off,” Draco said scornfully. “Our Chaser is Bay Verite.”

 Bay nodded weakly. What a hell of a season this would be with Draco Malfoy as a captain.

* * * * *

 “Does Draco do that often?” Bay asked, back in the dorm.

 “Not really. He’s got some type of advanced Spanish-honor syndrome. You insult him, he makes you scream and wish you’d never been given a mouth. Only to Slytherins, though. He’s king of the House, and he knows it. His father has connections; Professor Snape likes him. He can get away with anything here, because if anyone blabs, Draco can make suffer even more. Gryffindors and those other lots, they’ll let someone know, and Draco actually gets punished. He’s smart enough not to curse any of them, unless he boils over completely.”

 "He seemed pretty hacked off at Harry Potter. You're telling me they don't hex each other at least once a week?"

 "Oh no," Blaise shrugged. "Draco thinks aggravating Potter is just a game."

 "Why do they hate each other?"

 "I dunno. All Slytherins hate Gryffindors, but Draco and Potter do take it to the extreme."

 "I can tell," Bay said in a dry voice.

* * * * *

 Harry slipped back into Gryffindor Tower and pulled off his Invisibility Cloak. Ron was standing, grinning from ear to ear, next to Hermione. Hermione was not smiling. She had one of those "Oh,-I-know-you've-been-doing-something,-so-tell-me-now looks" on.

 "Are the Slytherin gits as hopeless as last year?" Ron asked excitedly.

 "Really, Harry!" Hermione exploded. "I am sure Professor Dumbledore did not give you that cloak so you could run around spying on rival Quidditch teams!"

 "Who's to say he didn't?" Harry said mildly. "After all, he is an alumni-Gryffindor."

 Hermione's anger seemed to be beyond words. Ron, being slightly more practical in cases such as these, repeated himself. "So how's the team?"

 "Well," Harry said, "They still have Malfoy, so they've got a drawback there. But Malfoy's on a Firebolt now. Nott and Avery are their old Chasers, you've seen them in action. Not the best Death Eaters-to-be ever to mount a broomstick, but good enough to keep us on our toes. Tabia Holland-you know, that dumpy black-haired girl-and Blaise Zabini took Beater positions. Holland's a little below average, but Zabini's got one heck of an arm. Their new Keeper-can't remember his name--isn't that great."

 "What about the other Chaser?"

 Harry bit his lip. "That American girl you got so worked up about-"

 "I did not get worked up!" Ron protested. Hermione arched her eyebrows.

 "-Bay Verite, I think, got picked to be Chaser. Not only does she make up for their Keeper, she's as good as Viktor Krum at feinting."

 "So? Our Chasers won't fall for any of her tricks," Ron said.

 "But if our Chasers don't fall for her tricks, she'll zip past them anyway. She's got a Firebolt too."

 "But-that's not fair!" Ron protested. "They can't have that many Firebolts on one team!"

 "You didn't protest when Harry was the only one at school with a Firebolt," Hermione noted calmly.

 "That was different!" Ron said. "Now everyone is copying us!"

 Hermione snorted.

 "We're going to have to work the team," Harry said worriedly. "We haven't even filled in our empty positions yet."

 "I'm going to be Keeper this year!" Ron said.

 Harry shrugged. "Fred and George are the captains. I'd better go tell them the news."

* * * * *

 "I heard you made your House Quidditch team," Hermione said, sinking into a library armchair.

 Bay, who was now hacking through The Redemption of Althalus, looked up. "Yes," she said happily.

 "Harry scared Fred and George Weasley half to death by telling them how you could feint."

 "I didn't see him watching."

 "He was probably hiding," Hermione explained, pulling out a piece of parchment. "Spying on the other team's tryouts isn't exactly the most honorable thing to be doing."

 Bay laughed, and turned back to her book. Althalus and his companions were valiantly defending a city from the evil troops of the corrupted Gelta and Pekhal. The infantry was storming the enemy troops-

 "What's that?" Hermione asked.

 Bay showed her. "It's a great book," she said. "Out of most of the ones I've read, their magic is closest to ours. Special words from the Book of Deiwos have power. Poor Althalus has a Goddess breathing down his neck making him memorize the thing so he can fight the enemies."

 Andine was yelling now (in the story). She had a rather ridiculous reason for yelling now. Speaking of ridiculous reasons for fighting...

 "Hermione, why do Draco and Harry hate each other?"

 "Besides the normal Gryffindor versus Slytherin twist to daily life? Well, on the first trip one the Hogwarts Express, Malfoy and Harry, er, exchanged some insults. Since then, we've taken the House Cup every year, beaten Malfoy into a pulp in Quidditch matches, made the Malfoy's lose their House Elf, and a few other things."

 "Is that it? They glower at each other throughout all the class period because of some stupid argument on their first day of school? What idiots!"

 "Well, Malfoy doesn't exactly say the nicest things!"

 "Why do you call him Malfoy? Suppose he had a little brother here, what would you call him then?"

 "I'd worry about that then. You do have a point, though. It's a bit of a habit, I suppose. Does Draco just hate Harry, or does he hate all Gryffindors that much?"

 "I think he really hates all Gryffindors. He hates the Quidditch team more than the average Gryffindor, and he hates Ron, Harry, and me most of all. Ron hates his guts. You saw what Ron tried to do in Potions, that day when we all turned into animals. You were the panther, weren't you?"

 "How did you know?"

 "Even your Anipathy seemed to have an accent."

 Bay groaned. "Stupid accent."

 Hermione giggled. "It's sort of funny, actually."

 "You should hear imitation British accents over in the States." Bay put on a horrible Cockney accent. "G'day, miss. Luvely weather we've been 'avin, don'cha think?"

 "That is awful," Hermione said with a grimace.

 "Oh yes, I agree. But since you know what I was, will you tell me what you were?"

 "A snowy owl."

 "Oh, those are such pretty birds! You got in sort of a cat-fight with Blaise, didn't you?"

 "Blaise Zabini was a raven, right? Well, I wouldn't call it a cat-fight. I've had a few arguments with her myself."

 "You all need to stop fighting. Learn to get along. Look at the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, they're perfectly happy without getting into arguments with each other."

 "Gryffindors have hated Slytherins for a long time. It goes back to the Founders."

 "Sorry, Hermione. I don't know anything about this place."

 "I'll tell you the basic story. You should really read Hogwarts: A History, though. I'm just giving you a short outline. This school was founded by four people: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin."

 "The Houses are named after them, aren't they?" Bay asked shrewdly.

 "Yes, they are. You heard the Sorting Hat, it told you virtues each of the Founders looked for. Gryffindor liked brave students; Ravenclaw preferred the clever ones; Hufflepuff looked for loyalty; Slytherin looked for ambition and cunning. Slytherin thought there shouldn't be any Muggle-born students admitted. You have to realize that this was the time when most witch-burnings were going on-"

 "Yes, Hermione. I know about witch-burnings. Binns only droned on all class yesterday about how goblins were burned as well."

 "Well, Slytherin didn't want any Muggle-born students at Hogwarts. The others confronted him. Gryffindor was the main antagonist. Slytherin left, and Gryffindors and Slytherins hate each other. Before Slytherin left, though, he built a place called the Chamber of Secrets. There was a basilisk inside that he left for his heir to call up and kill Muggle-borns."

 "It seems like a pity his pet snake didn't kill him."

 "Salazar Slytherin was a Parselmouth. So was his heir. Over fifty years ago, the Chamber was opened, and a girl was killed. It was opened three years ago again, and Harry stopped the Heir of Slytherin. That kind of raised tensions just a little."

 "Just a little," Bay repeated. "That's pretty impressive. I guess we'd better start ripping each other's guts out now."

 “Not before dinner,” Hermione protested, admirably trying to keep a straight face.

 “No, not before dinner,” Bay agreed. “Let’s just be an exception to the rule.”

 “Okay,” Hermione said softly. “You know, you aren’t what I expected of a Slytherin.”

 “You were expecting something?”

 “Yes, I was! Everyone else in Slytherin is a pureblood snob, who look down on Muggle-borns and all the other Houses. They cheat, they lie to teachers, and half of them have parents who were Dark Wizards and Witches!”

 “I don’t.”

 “I know. That’s what surprised me. When Ron told me how you had played Muggle sports with them and acted, well, normal, I thought he was being slightly delusional.”

 Bay clapped her book shut. “That’s the type of person I am. I enjoy those things, so I do them. You’re a Muggle-born, aren’t you, Hermione? We have a lot of Muggle-borns in the States.”

 “I am, actually.”

 “What was it like,” Bay asked. “Being here with a basilisk running around, when it might have come after you?”

 “Horrible,” Hermione said quietly. “I figured out what it was before anyone else knew. But it got me; I looked in a mirror and saw the eyes.”

 “Tara,” Bay whispered. “We learned about basilisks. You were Petrified, then?”

 “It was horrible,” Hermione said softly. “You don’t know how horrible it was. I was floating in this dark place, where I couldn’t see and couldn’t hear. I couldn’t move. I remember being so scared about it, but I couldn’t do anything except be scared.”

 “That’s awful, Hermione. I—I guess I should say sorry for my jackass House.”

 Hermione actually laughed, and the fearful look that had haunted her eyes left. “I told you that story because I want to tell you to watch out. Don’t turn into one of those bad Slytherins.”

 “I won’t. I promise. Remember the yin-yang. I’ll be the good in Slytherin House.”

* * * * *

 “Aren’t you nervous?” Blaise asked tensely.

 “I’m too sleepy to be nervous,” Bay mumbled sleepily, wiping her eyes.

 “Honestly!” Blaise said. “You could at least pretend to be nervous, for my sake.”

 “How’s this? Dear Tara! We’re having a Quidditch game! Help! Help! Despite the fact that we have superior brooms, we’re afraid of the Hufflepuffs! Argggggghhh!”

 “That was scary,” Gwen said mildly. “But really, Bay. Quidditch matches are important!”

 “Do you want me to get worked up?”

 “Well ”

 “I didn’t think so. Blaise, eat your bacon.”

 “It’s too crispy,” Blaise muttered.

 “Then give it to me,” Bay said happily, “and you can have my greasy, soggy, fatty bacon instead.”

 Blaise groaned. “I don’t want to eat, Bay. I’m too nervous.”

 “Gwen, feed her. No, I don’t care how ridiculous you look, she needs to eat.”

 “I don’t feel like anything except bread right now, thanks,” Blaise said, picking up a slice of bread and covering it with a rather excessive amount of butter.

 “Just make sure you eat,” Bay shrugged. “Gwen, what are our chances against Hufflepuff?”

 “Nobody’s betting on the Hufflepuffs, but you will get booed a lot. After all, we are the evil Slytherins.”

 “Screw them. We’re going to win.”

 “Team, showers!” Draco barked, and stalked off with his green robes billowing out behind him.

 “You’ve got juice on your robes,” Bay said to Blaise.

 “I do? Where? Help me find it—oh, that was so immature.”

 “Fun, though.”

 It was foggy. There wasn’t any wind, either, so there was no chance of the fog blowing away. A creative Chaser could use fog to their advantage. So could a creative Beater. She could sneak up on the hoops unseen, but Bludgers could sneak up on her.

 As Bay stared out of their shower-room doors, she found she could barely see the observation towers. “Draco, hit me with a X-ray Jinx,” she said, grabbing his arm.

 “We aren’t allowed to hex players.”

 “You aren’t allowed to hex players in the game. You aren’t allowed to hex other team’s players and brooms. You aren’t allowed to be on steroids, so you can’t charm yourself. There isn’t anything about hexing your own team before the game.”

 “Thought through like a Slytherin,” he said. “Are you sure you want the X-ray Jinx? You won’t be able to see the Quaffle, it isn’t metal.”

 “I’ll see Bludgers and bones too. That’s all I’m worried about.”

 “Aspectus!”

 She could see through the wood of the walls now, and see the metal supports. The metal of the observation towers she could see as well. “It worked.”

 “It was a good idea. Every rule has it’s loophole. Do the charm on me now.”

 “Aspectus!”

* * * * *

 Hermione sat with Ron and Harry in the stands. Harry had his Omnioculars with him. “You are so paranoid this year,” she had told him. “You aren’t even captain!”

 “We have to beat Slytherin,” he’d replied. “I’m going to learn their patterns before we play them.”

 Ron had been fidgety too. This was his first year a Keeper, and he was nervous.

 “This is the first game of the season!” Lee Jordan bellowed. “Hufflepuff faced some major losses last year, but they’ve recouped admirably! Slytherin put together pretty much a new team, we don’t know how any of them will hold up!”

 Booing from the Slytherins.

 The teams were hovering in their start-of-game formation. Or, that’s what it looked like; she couldn’t see very well in the fog. She began to wish she had brought her Omnioculars as well. Harry and Ron had their pairs almost glued to their eyes. “Accio Omnioculars!”

 “What was that, Herm?” Ron asked.

 “Honestly!” she huffed. “The game hasn’t even started yet.”

 Madam Hooch’s whistle blew. “It has now,” Harry said, without looking at her.

 Hermione caught her Omnioculars deftly. The Quaffle was in Slytherin possession. The game had begun.

* * * * *

 In the air, Bay eyed the yellow-clad Hufflepuffs. By the way most of them were squinting, they hadn’t thought to charm themselves. “This will be a fair game,” Madam Hooch said firmly. “Captains, shake hands!”

 Disdainfully, Draco shook hands with the Hufflepuff captain.

 “On my whistle—TWEET!”

 The Quaffle was up in the air—not anymore. She whizzed through the Hufflepuffs, still in their formations, to the hoops. The Keeper wasn’t even in the goal area yet, but he was flying frantically toward them. Easily she scored.

 “And Slytherin—with a Firebolt! What a disadvantage that is to the Hufflepuffs—scores. 10-0.”

* * * * *

 Hermione laughed. Two years ago, Lee Jordan had been telling everyone how wonderful a Firebolt was. But that had been Harry on a Firebolt. It was much different to Lee.

* * * * *

 Draco hovered in the mist. The Snitch was hiding somewhere, but still he couldn’t see it.

* * * * *

 “Take it, Adrian!” Bay shouted to Adrian Nott, and passed it deftly behind her to Charles Avery, who scored.

 “40-0,” Lee Jordan groaned.

* * * * *

 Harry stared into his Omnioculars. Bay Verite was fast, and the poor Hufflepuff Keeper didn’t have a chance. So far, she’d taken the Keeper into a Wronski Feint to get the boy our of the way as she tossed the Quaffle up to Adrian Nott, done loops around him, come up from behind and passed the ball backwards into the hoop, faked out twice, and scored by sheer speed three times. The score was now 80-0, in Slytherin’s favor.

 The green players didn’t seem to have any problems in the fog. Blaise Zabini had taken out a Hufflepuff Beater and Chaser, Taiba Holland had smacked a Bludger at another Chaser’s foot, but he was still flying. Any time soon, they’d take out most of the other team. It just didn’t make any sense: the Slytherins saw everything, avoided it, and scored again while the Hufflepuffs were beaten into the dust.

 Another Bludger was coming out of the mists at a Hufflepuff player. The girl couldn’t see it—

* * * * *

 WHAM! Blaise grinned as her Bludger hit the Hufflepuff Seeker, who tumbled to the ground.

 “Zabini sends a Bludger at Marigold Hornby, the Hufflepuff Seeker! This game is not going well for the Hufflepuffs Verite scores again, 120-10.”

* * * * *

 Draco zoomed in on the Chasers, who were flying in a Hawkshead Formation as one Hufflepuff who had managed to find them tried to take the Quaffle. With their enhanced vision, his team was having no problem with the fog.

 “Keep scoring! I’m not going to look for the Snitch until we get to 300!” he told them.

 “That won’t be long!” Verite shouted.

 “We’re at 130 now, and we’re they’re working on knocking out the Keeper!” Avery called.

* * * * *

 Blaise was meeting with Taiba in midair, both the Bludgers having been sent toward the Keeper and a Chaser a moment ago. “If we work together, we can knock out the Keeper!”

 “Right,” Taiba said. “We’ll round up our Bludgers and send them from different angles at the same time. On the count of two.”

 “My two?”

 “Sure.”

* * * * *

 “310!” Bay crowed, three hours of Hufflepuff Harassment time later.

 “Where’s Malfoy?” Adrian asked.

 “I dunno,” Bay said, as two Bludgers whammed at the Keeper. One smashed into his foot, and the remaining Hufflepuff Beater smacked the Bludgers angrily back into the sky. “He’s look, for him.” She dove in at the goals and scored.

 “Verite!” Adrian screamed.

 Draco Malfoy was falling of his broom. A Bludger was spiraling overhead. “Get his broom!” she screamed at Adrian, and went into a dive.

 Someone had slowed him down in midair. It would still be a close race, and she doubted any other broom could make it. If Draco hit the ground, both Seekers would be disqualified and the game would end. They still had 150 points to earn! Fifteen feet above the ground, she zoomed under Draco and caught him. Hovering in midair, she frantically readjusted him so that he was sitting in front of her and leaning back on her.

 Adrian was flying over with Draco’s broom. “Thanks,” Bay said, and pushed the second Firebolt underneath the two of them so that her broom wouldn’t give out under the weight of two people.

 “You caught him!” Adrian said in an awed voice.

 “Yeah, yeah, keep scoring and I’ll wake him up,” Bay said. Adrian obediently flew off in the direction of a Hufflepuff who had taken advantage of the Slytherin Chasers’ distraction and started scoring.

 “An amazing catch by Verite, pity she got him before Malfoy cracked his head a bit no, just joking Professor. I am informed that the game is not over yet, and that Slytherin still has a chance to catch the Snitch, if they can get it. The Hufflepuffs make a magnificent score! It’s about time, 320-40 shutting up, Professor.”

 Bay slapped Draco sharply. When he didn’t move, she slapped him again harder. She then repeated this process until the Seeker finally came to and told her to stop it.

 “What do you think you’re doing?” he said.

 “Waking you up,” she said innocently. “You’re starting to be a bit of a burden. Where does it hurt?”

 “My right arm and my right leg. Stupid >< of a Hufflepuff.”

 “So do you want me to put you down now?”

 “Of course not,” he told her. “You’re going to put me on my broom and let me go catch that Snitch.”

 “No I’m not,” she said firmly. “You can’t fly. You’ve just been hit by two Bludgers.”

 Blaise was flying over now, her face worried. “I’m so sorry, Taiba and I were excited because we’d just gotten their Keeper ”

 Draco looked at her icily. “If I didn’t have a better Beater, you’d be off the team now.”

 “But you don’t have a better Beater,” Bay chipped in. “Better Beater, better Beater, butter Beater, uggh.”

 “Shut up,” Draco said.

 “I could dump you off now,” Bay reminded him.

 “You wouldn’t.”

 “I would.”

 “No you wouldn’t.”

 “Would too.”

 “Would not.”

 “Would too.”

 “This is immature.”

 “Your point being? Would too.”

 “Shut up!” Blaise screamed. “Draco still has one good arm. How many arms does he need to catch as Snitch? Just one. Bay flys, Draco catches. I make sure no more Bludgers come over here.”

 “What about the rest of the team?” Bay protested.

 “I knocked out the second Hufflepuff Beater before coming to get you.”

 “Good idea,” Bay approved.

 “Snitch!” Draco said, pointing with his good arm. “Go!”

 Bay took off. It only took a moment to get used to having two brooms under her, so she started off at about the top speed of a Nimbus 2000. It was still pretty fast. “You got it?” she asked.

 “Yes,” Draco said, and deftly caught the Snitch.

 “Slytherin wins,” Lee Jordan groaned. “500-80. Are you sure that wasn’t cheating? You’re positive, Madam Hooch? Oh, come on! That’s just a ridiculous number! They have to have cheated! They always cheat! Ouch, Professor! No! Give me back that ”

 “And the victory goes to Slytherin House,” Professor McGonagall said in a resigned tone. “Jordan, sit.”

 Madam Pomfrey was on the ground waiting for them, tutting about what a dangerous sport Quidditch was as she helped Draco off the brooms.

 “Thank you,” Draco said, rather awkwardly.

 “You’re welcome,” Bay told him, cheerily