The final Quidditch match of the year was over. The Slytherins had won by a narrow margin following a few dodgy referee decisions, and a blatant and brutal broomstick foul by Avery, which had even made the commentator fly to the Gryffindors defence. And then the final whistle had gone and the stadium had erupted with a riot of screams, boos and hisses, and lots of conjured up rotting tomatoes, eggs and toilet rolls whizzing through the air.

But the Slytherins didn't care, they had beaten the Gryffindor's reign, and they left the sports field whooping and yelling carrying their heroic beaters on their shoulders.

All except for one – the skinny little Quidditch substitute with the greasy hair and the sullen look on his face. The Substitute that hardly ever got to play. Somehow his team had forgotten him. He dawdled behind, and the Gryffindor team were actually closing on him. They were almost in earshot.

Meanwhile, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin ran from the stands to meet up with their Seeker friend, leaving stumpy little Peter gasping along behind.

"What the fuck happened there, Prongs?" exclaimed Sirius.

James made a sour face. "Fucking Slytherins happened."

Peter finally caught up. "Did you see Avery and that dive on Perks!" he gasped. "Went and shoved the end of his broomstick right up…"

"Yes thank you Peter, we saw, I think everyone did," cut in Remus loudly.

James scowled. "Yeah. Fucking bastard. Perks won't be out of the hospital wing for a week with that sort of broomstick injury."

"Outrageous, if you ask me," muttered Remus. "He should have been sent off."

"Expelled from Hogwarts more like!" growled Graham Silvers, the Gryffindor Goalie.

"No matter – we'll get him back for it, won't we guys?" shouted Sirius. "We'll get them all back, the slimy bastards!"

The Gryffindors all cheered aggressively.

The scrawny little Slytherin just ahead seemed to hesitate when he heard this, but carried on walking. Anyone watching would have said his expression darkened slightly, yet there was also a nasty little glint in his eye.

"Oh look who it is ahead…" hissed Black. "All on his tod….again."

James peered over the crowd and smirked as he sighted the green and silver coloured quarry. "Aw it's the weird little Greaseball. His teams abandoned him again, look."

Peter's eyes lit up. "We could get him in the changing rooms and do him in there!"

Remus pulled a face, but said nothing.

Sirius frowned. "You really are a pervy little bastard, aren't you Wormy?"

James raised his eyebrow. "Pervy, but he does have a point. His housemates won't be able to help him much in there…will they?"

Remus looked away, pretending he wasn't hearing this. God knows what would happen if McGonagall heard aboutthis one.

Black's eyes shone mischievously as he met his friend's. A smirk grew on both their faces.

"The last to hex is a loser!"

James and Sirius whooped and yanked each others robes as they dodged to the front, desperate to get there first. Peter had tripped over somewhere behind, and Remus unsurprisingly was nowhere to be seen.

James aimed first. "Impedimenta!" Snape span round and dodged, but the hex just caught his right arm and he went down like a sack of very skinny potatoes.

The Gryffindor team let out a hearty cheer. Sirius was the next to point his want at Snape's livid face as he struggled to get up.

"Petrificus totalus!"

Snape was frozen mid sneer. Careful not to be seen by the teaching staff, the Gryffindor team then circled the frozen body and hoisted him upright. Someone conjured a big tomato and squished it over Snape's head. The team laughed again.

"To the changing rooms!"

Completely frozen and unable to move, Snape could only curse and swear voicelessly, and watch in increasing horror as the changing rooms grew nearer and nearer. He would have been yelling out loud by now if he could.

This wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't planning to even go in the Slytherin changing rooms today. Especially with his carefully planned revenge attack on the Quidditch Players already in place.

A certain Potion vengefully slipped into both changing rooms' shower plumbing systems…

A certain potion that had been banned in Hogwarts since 1933, due to its… potency.

Snape felt a horrible tingle run down his back as the team began to boisterously squash through the changing room door. As far as Snape knew – no Slytherin had stepped foot over this threshold before.

Snape cursed silently again as they propped him up just inside the doorway. His heart thudded away with terror as he heard the first of the showers switch on.

The Gryffindors began to whip their Quidditch robes off, laughing and joking, having no idea that what they were going to become part of would probably end up being dubbed the most infamous prank in Hogwart's history.

Oh Gods, thought Snape desperately praying that no one would dream of getting him too near the showers…

Just then a grinning boy's face completely obscured his vision, and his worst nightmare was answered.

"Ah, there you are Snively…" said Black coolly, dangling his Soap on a Rope in front of the Slytherin's face.

"You look a little bit…greasy... Fancy a shower…?"