Rating:: PG
House:: Schnoogle
Characters:: Draco Malfoy Harry Potter Hermione Granger Ron Weasley Sirius Black
Genres:: General Action
Era:: Multiple Eras
Spoilers:: Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire
Stats:: Published: 12/12/2002

Updated: 12/28/2002

Words: 87,376

Chapters: 20

Hits: 40,339

Harry Potter and the Heir of Gryffindor

venus

Story Summary:: Things aren't exactly as they seem during Harry's 5th year at Hogwarts. Aside from there being romance in the air, discoveries are made, secrets are revealed and Harry embarks on an adventure that he will never forget.

Chapter 07

Chapter Summary:: Harry's 5th year at Hogwarts school isn't exactly as it seems.

Posted:: 12/20/2002

Hits:: 1,752

Chapter Seven: The Wind and the Weasleys

The days passed along peacefully - well, aside from the usual name throwing that had always existed between Gryffindor and Slytherin houses. The rumor of Harry's muggle girlfriend had lost its steam quickly, although Harry was certain that Draco was brainstorming on what he was going to do next to make Harry's year as miserable as possible. But October arrived before they knew it and the first Quidditch game of the year was fast approaching, so Draco couldn't say too much with the way Slytherin had so shamefully lost the cup the year before.

Angelina was a fantastic captain. Oliver Wood had been ,well, rather obsessive about the game. Angelina was much more human about it. Although, as the players soon discovered, she was very . . . shall we say honest about their performances. "Where's your head today," became a favorite of her catchphrases.

In fact, it was Angelina who sat beside Harry in the great hall during breakfast, going over an exciting new maneuver that the Weasleys had concocted.

"So it's right as we're pulling off the Porskoff Ploy, that will take away at least three Slytherin chasers from off our hands-- and you know how the crowd reacts to that one-then you make for a Wronski Feint and-oh, post already?" Angelina looked down at her watch and shook it, as though it were too slow.

From amidst the swarms of owls circling the hall, Hedwig swooped downward and dropped two letters into Harry's lap, Angelina still rambling on about the maneuver. He was listening vaguely, but much more interested in the letters as they were both from the Banburys. One was written on the usual parchment, from Imelda, thanking himself, Ron and Hermione for being so kind to her daughter. The other was unmistakably Sophie's: she'd used muggle stationary and Harry was slightly embarrassed that, of all colors, she'd chosen pink.

"What in the hell is that," Ron demanded.

"Oh! I've got one too!" said Hermione, waving her pink letter. "Sophie's sent us both letters, Harry!"

Harry opened his, keenly aware of Ron peering over his shoulder. "Why didn't I get one?"

"My guess is. . . she doesn't like you," said Hermione. "Oh, and look! She's sent us a photo from her school."

Harry had received one as well: a muggle photograph, so the stationary Sophie was beaming into the lens, her arm around what Harry guessed to be one of her muggle girlfriends at school.

"Dear Harry:
Hiya! Well, Dad took the news that I'm a witch very well. In fact, I think he even looked pleased because he knew how very unhappy I was. I received my first parcel from Professor Dumbledore just yesterday in the post. Our owl isn't used to heavy parcels, so she was a bit winded! Anyway, today Mum and Dad took me to Diagon Alley so that I could purchase the needed books-and I've my own wand now! Dad was quite intrigued by it all-he won't admit it though, but I think that Mr. Ollivander rather scared him. I'm supposed to be reading the first chapter in my History of Magic textbook, but I just had to write you instead. I hope everything is treating you well at Hogwarts!
Keep in touch!
Yours, Sophie
p.s.: The Dursleys are back to being the same old sour pusses now."

Harry smiled and folded the letter back up again, making a mental note to write her back that evening after his homework was finished.

"What did she say in yours, Herm?"

Hermione had already tucked her letter away and was concentrating on what looked like a magazine. "What?" she said, looking up startled.

"Look," said Ron, pointing at what she was reading. "Where'd you get that from?"

She seemed quite flustered over Ron pointing attention to her.

"What is it?" asked Harry.

Ron swiped from Hermione's hands what appeared to be a magazine. The front cover had the title "Sorceress Now" in large, frilly black and purple letters, and the glossy front photo was a famous French witch singer, Claudette DuBois, smiling and winking provocatively.

Ron seemed aghast. "Herm! Since when do you read stuff like this?"

"Since always, Ron. You've just never noticed."

"This is just rubbish, Herm! Parvati Patil and girls like that read this. . ." He perused the pages inside. "I mean, look at this: 'Getting What You Want : Part Two- Dealing with Guilt After a Bewitching', 'How Can I Get Him to Notice', oh and Harry look at this one, 'When Love Grows Cold: How to Rekindle That Old Magic'" Ron was grinning at Hermione who looked downright embarrassed. "I mean,really Hermione."

She grabbed the magazine back from him and, unable to think of anything else, stuck her tongue out at him.

"Oh now that's really mature, Herm."

She pointed her gaze. "You watch it Weasley, or else I might just let it slip that you keep a photograph of Fleur Delacour tucked under your pillow!" She put her hand to her mouth. "Oops! Looks like I just did!"

Harry's jaw dropped. "Ron, do you really-"

"NOT ANYMORE," he shouted, shooting daggers at Hermione who simply smiled at him, perfectly reposed.

Over the next few weeks, Harry could depend on a letter from Sophie just like one depends on clockwork. Every Wednesday without fail, Hedwig dropped a letter from her into his lap and he was tickled to see how she'd quickly switched from pink, perfumed stationary to ink and parchment. (She was new at writing with a quill, obviously, as most of her letters had smudges and blots on them).

"Harry:
You asked how my lessons are going. All I can say is that Mum is an incredibly good sport about it all. I have to be the worst student in the world-I study incessantly of course, know all the facts and all the charms by heart. . . but it's just taking so long for me to have any success with it! Mum forbade me to use my kwickspell book, saying that I had to learn it the correct way first, but . . . I'm thinking I might just break down and take a quick peek or two. I swear, if I don't get this feather to levitate by weeks end I'm going to cry! Oh, wait, you made me promise no more tears. Okay, I won't cry: I'll just be thoroughly depressed.
I saw Dudley yesterday in the backyard and we spoke for a bit. He's in huge trouble at school: him and his friends all got a weeks suspension from school for trying to blow up the boys toilet! Can you believe that? I tried my hardest not to laugh: Mrs. Dursley has him outback pulling weeds every day!
Do you have any suggestions about my lessons? What am I doing wrong?
Yours, Sophie.
P.S.: In one of the books I bought from Flourish and Blotts, it talks about a game called Quidditch. You play that, don't you Harry?"
Harry was most eager to use writing her back as an excuse to put off his homework that night.

"Dear Sophie:
Sorry that you're having such a difficult time. Then again, it's not exactly easy stuff. But I think the best tip is concentration-really, it is the key. Just keep at it Sophie, you'll do just fine.
So Dudley's doing the yard work in my absence? That's the best news I've had all week! I only wish I could be there to see it in person! I doubt that Dudley's ever touched a weed before in his life.
You asked about Quidditch: yes, I am on the House team. If you've been reading up about it, then you know about all the positions-I'm the Gryffindor Seeker. It's tremendous fun and right now we've been training for our first match of the year. It's against Slytherin. You remember that Draco Malfoy who said all those horrible things the day you were at Hogwarts? He's a Slytherin. So you can imagine how anxious we are to beat him!
Must go! I have an exam in Arithmancy tomorrow and I have to meet Hermione and Ron to study.
Say hello to your Mum and Dad.
~Harry
He climbed from the common room up to his dorms, where everyone else was fast asleep: tomorrow was the first excursion to Hogsmeade for the year! He gave the post to Hedwig and climbed into bed, going to sleep that evening thinking about Sophie's ink blotted letters. . . maybe he could find a decent quill for her tomorrow in Hogsmeade, that might help her . . .

The fifth years were louder than usual as they piled out of the train station and into Hogsmeade. It was an unusually warm day which meant the ice cream vendors were out and about by the handful and inside Honeydukes, the beloved sweet shop, cool treats abounded. But of course, there was only one place that could satisfy their needs that day: The Three Broomsticks.

"Three butterbeers, please," said Harry to Madame Rosmerta who smiled upon seeing him again.

"All right then, Harry?" she asked happily, her pretty round face red from the heat of the day.

"Just great-- the place looks terrific. Cheers."

"Cheers, Harry," she called after him as he joined Hermione and Ron. Ginny, Dean and Seamus were at their table as well and they all chugged on the butterbeers greedily. The door flung open and in came Fred and George.

Harry waved them over. "Lads! Pull up a seat! Where have you been anyway--"

Fred and George, however, had other ideas. They came to their table and ordered them to their feet.

"Come on," George was saying excitedly, "we've got to show you something."

The company wasn't entirely thrilled about having to chug down their butterbeers (the drink is so delectable it needs to be savored) but Fred and George were insistent. Dean and Seamus were especially moody now as they all followed the Weasley twins down the High street towards the far end of Hogsmeade. Just after Dervish and Banges, the twins came to an unexpected halt.

"What's all this about, Weasley?" Dean didn't look too happy.

"Voila!" said George, holding his hands up in the air. They were standing in front of a tiny store that looked like it had been boarded up for decades-- the wood was old and weather-beaten, paint chipped off the front door, and only who knows what kind of monstrosities were lurking inside.

Harry raised his brow. "What? It's a boarded up old shop."

"Tut, tut, tut," said Fred with a wink, "it may look like just any other boarded up old shop, but it's our boarded up old shop."

Ron was confused. "What do you mean yours?"

Fred dug in his trouser pocket and pulled out a large bronze key. He unlocked the shabby front door and stepped inside. "Come on," he ordered to the rest.

They exchanged uneasy looks, and Harry took an uncertain step inside after Fred. Once the rest were inside the pitch-blackness of the room (Seamus and Dean now very vocal with their irritation) George finally shed some light on the subject. Literally.

"Lumos Totalitus," he said, and the room was suddenly drenched in light.

"Great Merlin," Ron breathed, "I can't bloody believe it."

Neither could Harry! They were standing on a squeaky clean blue and white tile floor, in the center of which a large red "W" was embedded into the tile. Around them were about five tall rows of large boxes. a couple chairs sat in the corner, a portable table as well, but other than that the room was bare.

"George. Fred. What is this," Ron was saying.

The twins looked like they were ready to burst from pride. "This," said Fred, "is our future."

"We bought it during the summer and the minute we graduate we're opening shop here. Ron-- this is the Weasley Wizard Wheezes."

Ron looked faint. "It . . . can't be! H-how could you possibly afford to buy anything like this. . ."

"Well, first of all, this was an offer we just couldn't pass up. And . . . well, Ron, you remember those new dress robes we bought you at the beginning of term?"

Ron blushed and the others snickered at the memory of those horrible dress robes he'd worn at the Yule Ball. "Well . . . it's the same money we used to buy this."

"Where did you get the money!" Ron shrieked, "I swear, if you two have been doing something illegal I'm off to tell Mum and Dad--"

"No, no, no!" George cried, "No Ron-- nothing illegal! Honest! You just have to swear you won't tell mum about the store."

"And why the hell not!"

"Because she'll fly into a rage! She wants us to go to the ministry or something like that-- if she knew we were working on this on the side, she'd probably have a heart attack!"

"I promise I won't tell Mum if you tell me where you got the money!"

The twins looked at Harry. Harry shrugged-- it was going to come out sooner or later.

Fred nodded. "Right then, Ron. Remember Harry won the Triwizard Tournament last year?"

"Think I'm daft? Of course I do!"

"Well. . . he gave his prize money to us."

The entire company gasped.

"Harry!" Ginny shrieked.

"You didn't!" said Hermione.

"All of it?" said Dean.

"Are you mad?" Seamus demanded.

"He's flipping mental!" said Ron.

Harry expected this. "No, I'm not crazy, Ron. What was I supposed to do with it? I knew that Fred and George would actually be able to make something of it, more than I ever could, that's for sure. And they have! I mean, by the time they graduate, this place will be ready to open for business and it's gonna just knock away all the competition."

"That's right!" said George. "It's our dream coming true, Ron! Weasley's Wizard Wheezes is going to be a reality! It already is!"

"Of course," said Fred, "out bedroom is still our main invention laboratory, but we thought we'd use this as storage for the time being. Mom's always after us that we need to stop tinkering with our inventions, so we've moved a lot of them out and stored them here---"

BANG! BOOM!

"Wicked!" Cried Seamus. He was standing overtop an opened brown box, his hands black from ash.

"What was that?" asked Hermione.

"It was a Quill Missile," Seamus said, positively thrilled. "I mean, I just started to pretend to write me name, and it suddenly just shot off like a rocket-- bang! boom! Just like that, and then it exploded into a bright blue and red fire-- lads, that was amazing!"

"That one is George's invention," said Fred. "It's one of my favorites-- we've got a whole box full of them already, look!"

"Hey--" a new voice filled the room. "What's going on in here?"

They turned around and Parvati and Padma Patil, Hannah Abbot and Cho Chang were standing in the doorway cautiously.

"Girls!" said Fred happily, "come on in! You're just in time!"

They walked in cautiously, and the twins wasted no time in filling them in on the details.

Dean had opened another box and in the next second he was shouting at the top of his lungs. "OUCH!"

Everyone crowded around the box, eagerly, which had pink and aquamarine steam rising from it. Dean massaged his fingers while Fred pulled out what he called 'The Venus Hand Trap.' "This is my creation. The most brilliant alarm system, if I do say so myself. Watch!"

He reached into the box and pulled out. . . well, nothing. He held his palm opened as though he were holding something, but his hand was empty. He then recited a charm and suddenly, what had appeared to be nothing, slowly revealed itself to be a small burgundy box.

"You see, you put something of incredible value to you into it, the box turns invisible and any fingers that touch it which are not your fingertips are met with, well, Dean you see what it can do."

Dean was grimacing, still massaging his throbbing fingertips.

There was another explosion, and then a terrible, pungent smell following. Harry scrunched up his nose in disgust, and Hermione looked ready to vomit.

"What the hell was that," she demanded.

George laughed, "That! Well-- let's show you, really funny little thing--"

"And just what is all this?"

Everyone stopped and turned around. Draco Malfoy was standing in the doorway with Crabbe and Goyle.

Ron folded his arms contemptuously. "What are you doing here, Malfoy."

"I was just going to ask you the same thing, Weasley." Draco said as he walked in, his menacing eyes flashing to and fro, surveying the scene with keen interest.

"None of your bloody business," Ron snapped.

"Out Malfoy," George ordered sternly.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard. This is our property. We don't have to let anyone in if we don't want to. And we don't want you here."

"You own this property? That's rich! Your father can't even afford a decent home for his own family-how could his son possibly do any better?"

"I said out!"

Draco sniggered. "Come on, boys. They'll find out on their own soon enough--like father like son."

"Out!"

They left, their laughs lingering in the air of the now silent room.

Ron, of course, was fuming mad. "He prances about here like he bloody owns the universe."

"If what he says is true," said Hermione, "then Draco really is doomed to spend his life being a pompous jerk because that's all his father is!"

"Don't worry," said Cho softly, "no one listens to a thing Malfoy or his family says."

"Yeah, but still . . . it's infuriating."

"Please," said Seamus, "Malfoy isn't worth the effort it takes to think about him! Besides, he's just jealous because this place is gonna be abso-bloody-lutely brilliant!"

Fred and George were appeased by this, though Ron was still visibly on edge. They left the shop, Fred locking it up tight behind them, and once again it looked like a beat up old shack.

"Just one good punch, that's all I want . . ." Ron was muttering as they walked towards a new favorite store back at the beginning of the High street--"Ethel Ebbs Everything Emporium". It was an overwhelming monster of a store where Harry found himself bombarded with everything from self-brushing tooth brushes, to scented stationary, to designer hats, to canned goods. . .

He spotted some very nice quills for sale and remembered his idea to send one over to Sophie, perhaps as a Christmas gift-and then he spotted next to the tiny bottles of wand cleaner solution, a black leather-bound writing journal-simple and unassuming, with gold stitch binding and gold plated pages. He remembered Sophie's words 'I keep everything in a journal. . .' and this was simply screaming her name. He picked it up, and the quill, and walked to the sales counter, humming happily.

Of course, with the way news spreads amongst fifteen year olds, most of the train was buzzing about the soon-to-be Weasley Wizard's Wheezes. People kept coming into their train compartment during the entire ride, asking question after question.

It was a bit difficult to not feel an overwhelming sense of pride as they made their way back to Hogwarts. Even Ron seemed to have forgotten Draco's deriding words by the next day-and was walking with his head high in the air once more.

And then . . .

"Hey Weasley! You're a regular celebrity now! Famous Harry Potter and Famous Ronald Weasley. . ."

Speak of the Devil.

Harry didn't even turn around. He and Hermione urged Ron to keep on walking, not even giving Draco the satisfaction of them turning to face him.

"You're just jealous," Harry spat, continuing on his walk.

"Jealous?" Draco laughed piously, his footsteps close behind theirs. "Jealous of a Weasley? As though I wish I lived in that dumpster of a house, not a penny in the till, and that embarrassment of a father--"

Harry's fists clenched and he spun around, his eyes narrowed. "SHUT UP MAL--"

"I'd no sooner be jealous of a Weasley than I would you, Potter. Your stupid little scar and your stupid little fan club. At least my family means something in this world, Weasley. At least I have a family, Potter!"

Harry was reaching for his wand when Professor Gray appeared. Sirius was staring at Harry, his arms crossed. Harry slowly put his wand away, still glaring at Draco.

"That's more like it Mr. Potter." Sirius turned to Draco, "And I'm sure that you're going to be late for Arithmancy if you don't hurry along."

Draco sneered at Harry triumphantly and pranced away, Crabbe and Goyle breaking out into laughter as they went.

Harry scowled at Sirius. "Why did you let him go? You heard what he said--"

Sirius tightened his grip on Harry's shoulder. "You think I'm going to let Draco egg you on into another detention? You know as well as I do that with your record you cannot afford another occurrence. You and Mr Weasley both." He lowered his voice so that only Harry could hear. "And I cannot afford your being booted out of Hogwarts."

He was right of course.

"Do not let him get to you like that," he said earnestly.

Harry was still fuming, but he and Ron shrugged it off on the way to class.

The two were heading towards lunch later that day when they ran into traffic en route to the great hall.

They saw Hermione's head amongst the crowd and tapped her on the shoulder.

"What's all the commotion?"

"The Pennant," she said eagerly, pushing her way towards the front of the crowd, Ron and Harry close at her heels.

"The what?"

"Didn't you hear the announcement at the beginning of class?"

"No. We were busy with Draco," said Ron bitterly.

"Oh. Well-- go on, have a look!"

She pointed at a large sign that had been posted on the wall:

The Student Pennant
Open to 5th, 6th and 7th year students only. Students will compete in a three-day competition-- a battle of the minds. Subjects to study include history, arts and entertainment, literature and law. Students interested must enter their names, houses and complete the standardized questionnaire attached. Four representatives will be selected from each house and all will be expected to attend weekly study sessions with their assigned group leaders. Applications are to be taken to Professor Warwick directly-- deadline is this Thursday, Halloween.

Ron and Harry both smiled at Hermione.

"Oh, you're a shoe-in, Hermione! We've as good as won!"

"Stop it--"

"It's true," he insisted. "You're the smartest girl in the school!"

"W-well, w-what about you two? You're entering, right?"

"Right," Ron snorted. "They'd laugh at my application."

"You never give yourself due credit, Ron," Hermione scolded.

"She's right. Why not enter, Ron? You'd be great on the team!"

"What about you?"

"Me? Sorry-- Quidditch practice, remember?"

Ron seemed to be considering it. "Well . . .I'm not gonna get picked, so why even bother--"

"Enter," they both barked.

So on Halloween, after the last class of the day, they went with Ron to Professor Warwick's class to hand in his application. Ron tried his best to appear indifferent to the whole thing, though Harry could see right through it. He was playing his sympathy card: Hermione had taken to rubbing his shoulders supportively, walking very close to him, telling him in soft, dulcet tones how much of an asset he would be to the team. Harry trailed behind them, unable to help the grin on his face-- the both of them had it for each other.

It was the first relatively normal Halloween that Harry had ever had during his stay at Hogwarts. No trolls in the dungeons, no Deathday parties or writing on the wall and there was no sign that they would have to spend Halloween night in sleeping bags in the great Hall as they did one year. They went down to the great hall and sat down to a magnificent feast that everyone was able to enjoy without one interruption or disaster of any kind!

Well, there was one thing that made the evening special-- in Harry's opinion anyway. It was the fact that during the entire feast, Ron and Hermione had talked only to each other. Harry was the only one who took notice and was now confident of the truth. Now wasn't the time to bring it up with Ron, he felt. But there was an infinite satisfaction in knowing that he suspicions were in fact correct.

The first day of November was ominous and dingy-- almost prophetic of the way Harry and the rest of his Gryffindor Quidditch teammates felt. After all, today was the first match of the year. The always pivotal Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Harry felt confident of their team under Angelina's guidance, though even she had to admit how . . . different things felt without Oliver Wood. Oliver had sent them an owl over breakfast wishing them the very best of luck and giving them his orders to beat Slytherin into the mud.

Harry smiled at the sight of the stands filled with students, the clamorous roar of their cheers giving him that lighter than air feeling he'd missed so much. He grabbed his Firebolt tightly and, after Angelina gave the team one final pep talk, they flew out onto the field. The Slytherins were looking particularly smug that morning, which of course only made Harry ever more eager to knock those smiles off their faces.

Malfoy in particular.

Having Draco Malfoy on the Slytherin team was the only thing that made Harry sometimes wish he was a Beater instead of a Seeker: for nothing would have given him more unadulterated pleasure than knocking that condescending smile off Malfoy's face. Then again, having Malfoy as the Seeker offered just as much an opportunity for Harry to show Malfoy precisely what he thought of him. Namely, by beating him to the Snitch!

Madame Hooch's yellow eyes flashed between all the players as she delivered her pre-game speech and ordered Angelina to shake hands with the newly crowned Slytherin captain, Montague. Harry's fingers closed tightly around the end of his broomstick, and he could see Malfoy do the same. Madame Hooch released the Quaffle and the crowds roared:

Harry Potter was in his element!

Lee Jordan's familiar voice blasted through the arena, announcing the official start of the game, and the audience roared once more.

It was one of the most intense games Harry had ever witnessed.

Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet seemed to fly faster than they ever had before as did the Slytherin chasers as well. The bludger that kept coming Harry's way was relentless-- but then again, so were the beaters. And the snitch! It had always been a hell of a time finding it, especially in dark weather conditions, but now it seemed to be literally like finding a needle in a haystack. The snitch moved with such speed that it didn't seem likely the human eye could possibly ever spot it!

"And it's Gryffindor in possession-- Spinnet throws and-- Montague blocks! Slytherin in possession! Bole swerves to avoid Spinnet and-- Hooch, call a foul! No foul called and Slytherin keeps possession! Bole throws-- Slytherin scores again-- 60 points to 40!"

Harry couldn't bear it-- Slytherin was beating them! And this time there didn't seem to be any tampered bludgers, nor obvious outright cheating-- what was killing Harry was that Slytherin appeared to be winning fairly!

"What's the matter, Potter?" Malfoy circled around Harry tauntingly. "Are you letting us win or something? You can at least try to make it hard for us!"

"No," Harry breathed, "this can't be happening--" He threw a disgusted look at Malfoy, the sound of his high-pitched laughter positively curdling Harry's blood. And then a streak of gold ripped between them. Without so much as another breath Harry was off at full speed, searching frantically for the snitch. Within seconds he was keenly aware of Malfoy was right at his tail-- his Nimbus Two Thousand and Two keeping up with Harry's Firebolt more than he would have liked!

"Potter sees the snitch! He's after it-- ohh, NICE save by the Weasleys! Bet you didn't see THAT one coming, did you, you slimey Slytherin--"

"LEE!" It was Professor McGonagall again, always ready to rope Lee back in when he got a bit too involved in his commentary.

I can't believe this snitch! It's unreal! Harry was diving, looping, climbing, falling sharply all in a desperate attempt to grab the snitch and he seemed to be making no progress-- it was somehow able to keep just out of his grasp!

"Spinnet Scores! Gryffindor and Slytherin are tied, 80 points to 80!"

Harry was reaching forward-- oh, if only his arms were just that much longer he would have it! And then, the snitch disappeared from sight once again! Harry let out a grunt of aggravation and then he saw it: Malfoy's face lit up and then he bolted off to the left. He's seen the Snitch!. Harry was right on Malfoy's tale-- his eyes gleamed with the sight of the flying gold ball and he put all his strength into reaching it!

There was a violent thrust against Harry's body, which nearly dislodged him from his broom completely! He held his grasp upon the handle although for a moment, he was quite sure he was going to fall. Fred and George must have missed the bludger because it had plowed into Harry at full speed. A gush of wind flew by Harry and he looked on in horror, powerless, as the Slytherin seeker reached out with his hand . . . the snitch . . .

"He's got the snitch! Draco Malfoy has the snitch! Slytherin beats Gryffindor 230 points to 80!"

Harry was in a state of shock. No . . . it just can't be! I've never lost this way. . . this has never happened to me! Malfoy was circling the Pitch, waving the Snitch triumphantly to the ecstatic cheers of the Slytherins. (and the lukewarm applause to everyone else). Harry flew down to the field to join the rest of his teammates.

No, not Malfoy. It's just not possible. I can't have lost to Malfoy . . . The rest of Harry's teammates were obviously thinking the same, though Angelina by far looked the worst. She was mere seconds from crying.

"Wonderful game, everyone," she said in a trembling voice, "Absolutely brilliant, all of you."

Twenty feet away, the Slytherins were shouting, hugging each other and making no bones about staring at the Gryffindors, pointing their fingers and laughing at them. Malfoy laughing the loudest.

Harry could hardly breathe. A consuming guilt was overcoming him so severely it almost felt as though it was making him ill.

"I'm . . . so sorry--"

"Nonsense Harry," said George, "I missed that bludger completely! I should have had it under control, but I let it slip past--"

"George," Harry snapped, "don't you ever say anything like that again. It was my job was to catch the snitch and . . . I didn't."

The taunting from the Slytherins was too much to bear. They turned and trudged off the field for the changing rooms.

Harry's spirits were just about as deflated as the really ever had been. A fair loss to Slytherin - a fair loss to Malfoy--was probably the worst injury to his self-respect that he could possibly have imagined. He was convinced that he was now a completely crap Seeker, and moaned to Ron and Hermione about his complete uselessness on the team. Hermione was of course upset at this change in behavior and got Ron to help her do her best to keep Harry upbeat.

It wasn't easy.

For about five days it looked as though Harry Potter had forgotten how to smile. And what was making things a million times worse was the fact that every time Harry walked past a Slytherin (Malfoy especially) there was a large outburst of laughter, generally followed by a chorus of "loser!"

There was only thing that could have possibly made Harry smile and, thankfully, it came later in the week following the Slytherin defeat. It was a Thursday and Ron came crashing into the Gryffindor common room, waving a letter.

"Guess what?" he shouted out of breath.

Harry blinked and then burst into the first smile he'd had in a long time. "You made the team!"

"No," said Ron, his smile still brilliant. "I didn't, Hermione did-- big surprise. But I have been selected as the back up! You know, just in case anyone gets sick or something!"

"That's just as good as being on the team!" cried Harry, standing up and giving his friend a huge hug.

"Yeah! And I have to go to all the meetings-- it's a really important thing! Wicked, isn't it?"

"See? I told you Ron! Look at all the people you beat out!"

"Yeah," he said with a guilty smile. "Dean Thomas was fuming that he didn't get picked."

"Who else is on the team?"

"Well, it's Hermione, Lavender Brown, Katie Bell and a seventh year named Lars Lonnegan. Here you are--" He threw the sheaf of parchment onto the table and Harry picked it up:

The Hogwarts Student Pennant
Gryffindor:Hermione Granger Lavender Brown Parvati Patil Lars Lonnegan ** Ronald Weasley

Hufflepuff: Hannah Abbott Justin Finch-Fletchley Lucinda Flanders Ernie MacMillan **Beverly Barton

Ravenclaw: Padma Patil Cho Chang Jackson Lewis Zoe Belichevsky **Sue Santiago

Slytherin: Draco Malfoy Pansy Parkinson Millicent Bultstrode Derrick Peters **Bole Veers

"We're going to win!" Harry shouted loudly. Ah yes, another opportunity to beat Slytherin!

"Damn right we are! After all I am on the team! Well, sort of anyway!"