Emerald green eyes opened, and blinked, annoyed at the light which poured in through the dormirotry window. "This is what I get, eh? I try to be the bloody world savior, and I get to be blinded every morning when I wake up?" His "inner" voice was always so cocky. If he wasn't in such a pissy mood anymore, he might've thought it was funny. Across the room, bed curtains russeled, and groans came from the sleep filled boys of his dorm.

Seamus stumbled out of bed. "Blimey, Harry, didn't you say you were getting us lot up in time, to eat breakfast, and get down to the pitch to watch tryouts." Harry suddenly paled. He gave a nervous laugh...And leapt out of bed, racing to his truck, to grab his quidditch robes, and hastfully, threw them on over top of regular old ones.

"Oh yeah.. Uh, we'll have time." He looked over to Ron, who was still snoring. A shock of red hair peaked through the crimson curtains which surrounded the bed. "Get up you lazy bugger!" He roared at his friend. In the background, he heard Dean snicker. The dark skinned boy, hid his smirk behind a yawn. He gave a wave, as he headed down the stairs, to leave for a quick breakfast. Ron slep on.

Harry stalked over, and Neville cowered back in the corner. He grabbed the water pitcher from the bed stand, and ripped the curtains open. He held the thing upside down, and girnned triumphantly as Ron awoke with a staggering gasp, followed by a punctuated scream.

"Man mate, seems like soemthings amiss with your voice." Seamus said, as he walked out the door. Ron grumbled incoherantly.

"Don't we have some where to be?" He asked before yawning. Harry nodded, and gestured over to the window, at the Quidditch Pitch.

"Tryouts." He stated.

"Damn...Guess we won't have time to eat in the Hall.. oh well, I'll just have to grab some toast.. and some juice.. maybe a plate of bangers and mash..." Ron rambled on as he dressed. Harry shook his head.

"I'll see you down the pitch mate."

Harry stared at the small second and third years, who stood aside from the older fifth and sixth years, who planned to tryout. "Heres what you lot are going to do. If you want to try for beater, You'll stand in line, over to the right. If you're going for chaser to the left. If your just here to watch or be a nusiance, go sit in the bleachers or something." He barked out. The younger students jumped, and scrambled to do as he asked. The older ones, ambled slowly, attempting to "assert they're authority."

"Well?" He yelled to the others. "You want to be on the team? Get your arses moving!" The pace was immediatly fixed.

A drawling voice shook Harry away from ordering the groups of students about. Ron glared with vehmence to Harry's left. "Well well Potty, what's going to be this years gryffindork line-up? " Malfoy sneered, his upped lip curling just slightly.

"Shut it Malfoy." Ron growled, as he pulled out his wand. Malfoy looked on at the red-head innocently.

"Shut what?" He asked in a sickly sweet voice. Ron made an exasperated noise. He waved the wand vigorously.

"You know what Malfoy....? I'm going to-" Harry put his hand on Ron's shoulder.

"Going to go stand over there, and get the quiditch supplies ready." Ron nodded at Harry, and left, though not before flicking Malfoy off.

"So Potty, I see you've got nice control over your little boyfriend there." Harry's eyes narrowed. "And where's Litte Granger? Gone and foundherself a muggle to get knocked up by?" Malfoy gave a cold laugh. "Ah, but we could only wish. Here comes the fat thing now." Hermione stomped over to they're direction, cluelessly ignoring Malfoy's prescence.

"Harry! Where were you at early, you scheduled practice, for precisely thirty four minutes prior to this time!" She exclaimed. She shoook her bushy brown hair off her shoulders. She blinked brown eyes, several times before, "Malfoy, What the hell are you doing here?" She put her hands on her hips, and began tapping her foot, waiting for his answer.

"Waiting for my beloved Potter to give me a show." He said with a sneer. He gave a derisive laugh at the look on Hermione and Harry's face. "As if mudblood, I have better things to do." He walked off, with a slight swagger, as they pulled out they're wands.

Hermione sighed. "If only he would get a life..." Harry nodded in agreement.

"Well, you go over and head to the benches." He waved her off. She frowned at him.

"You can't order me around." She stated as she walked off.

"Whatever, Hermione," He called as he began directing the first line of would be Quidditch players into the air.