A/N: Hey guys, here's the second chapter. I had to rewrite it because the first version was quite honestly rubbish. By the way, I don't think I mentioned that they're in thier fifth year. Thats about it. Oh yes, I won't be posting during this because I'm doing an outreach where I'll be staying at my church (no laptop for me)

Chapter Two

Part of me was glad that Gryffindor wasn't playing today. The training regime was hard enough even when the pressure wasn't on to perform. I even wanted to skip the match so I could get some homework done. Strangely enough, Hermione was the one who forced me to come to the match with her, Ginny, Neville and Ron. I tried to put away my parchment and quills the best that I could considering Hermione was pulling at my arm to get a move on.

"Geez, Hermione, give it rest, go wait with the others while I quickly pack up my rubbish," I snapped, my annoyance sounded in my voice.

She left the common room briskly.

"We'll be out by the portrait. Hurry up."

I mumbled curses under my breath as I threw my school bag to the side and followed Hermione out.

We walked down to the Quidditch pitch. The days were getting warmer, and today was sunny, the bright rays of sunlight fell on the ground, making the stretch of grass in front of me look like it was shining a cool golden-green. I sucked in a deep breath. Even with the sun out, the air still had a wintry bite.

I heard Neville laugh next to me. Gosh, I'm really not paying attention to conversation these days. I turned my head to look at the group of people I was going to watch the match with and I realized that I had drifted out to the edge of the close huddle that we had created. I moved in closer and joined the conversation.

We entered the buzzing stadium, which was divided into almost two perfect halves, one side of the stadium was patched with black that was visible in a sea of gold. The other side sported green and silver. Both sections of the stadium hummed with mounting energy. As much as I hated to admit it, I was excited for the match, even if it was better when I was soaring over the audience on a broom.

I could hear Neville telling Ginny animatedly about a plant he had discovered in one of his Herbology books.

"You can crush it's roots into a paste, and if you rub that paste on your skin, you become fire proof, you can also put it into a sack that you can carry around your neck and it wards off-"

"Neville," I said, cutting him off "No one cares."

I was slightly irritable with Neville because of a failed mixture in potions class. I don't really want to talk about it, but it landed us a month's worth of detention.

"Harry," Hermione said, pulling me over, "Please be a little nicer to Neville. Listen, he really likes Ginny and wants to impress her. So he'd really appreciate it if you just acted interested."

"Fine" I barked, "Just don't expect me to fall all over him or ask him to a romantic dinner"

"I never said you have to do that. But maybe for a little while, could you pretend you think his stories about crushed roots are absolutely riveting? It would mean a lot to him."

"Sure, sure," I grumbled.

But before I could pretend that Neville was the coolest guy on the planet, Lee Jordan's voice broke out over the stadium

"Ladies, Gentlemen, and Slytherins, welcome to the first Quidditch match of the season!"

The audience roared with appreciation, as the spirit was mounting.

"You all know how it works, the chasers get the quaffle through the hoops, while the keepers defend the goals. The beaters keep the bludgers away. And I'm pretty sure you guys can tell that bludgers are some nasty business. The seekers try to catch the snitch, which ends the game and earns their team 150 points. Let the games begin!" Jordan yelled, although none of the audience seemed to be listening, they were cheering for the teams that were entering the pitch. Madam Hooch blew the whistle and in an instant, all the players were in the air. The game started off on a good note for the Slytherins, who scored a goal within the first few seconds of the match.

The Slytherin side of the pitch went wild, while the Hufflepuff supporters groaned; it seemed they were already losing. I saw a boy who I had heard betting in the common room the night before, he look smug, I think he had out five galleons on Slytherin's winning. I looked back up to the match and I could see that one of the Slytherin chasers just took a nasty bludger to the arm, and above, the two seekers were circling the match, looking for the smallest glint of gold that would show them where the snitch was hiding.

While I was looking up, Hufflepuff managed to score a goal and simultaneously tick off the Slytherin keeper, who was yelling angrily that they had cheated to get the goal. As far as I could tell, Madame Hooch was reminding him that he was playing against Hufflepuff, and that she was more worried about him cheating, knowing Slytherin's track-record when it came to Quidditch matches.

The game commenced quickly, with Hufflepuff scoring an additional two goals. Then all the attention was on the two seekers, who were plunging rapidly down to the grassy pitch, and then I saw exactly what they were after: a small flash of gold, the tiniest shimmer indicating that one of the seekers had, indeed, seen the snitch.

Draco was far ahead of the Hufflepuff seeker, he was confidently following the snitch as it zoomed around the stadium, suddenly the snitch accelerated, and rose up sharply, Draco following it with speed and precision.

In all the excitement I grabbed for Hermione's arm, but she wasn't there any more, I looked further out into the stands and I could see her hair fly just out of sight. As I looked up, I realized it was all over.

The side of the stadium that was decorated green erupted into manic cheers and applause. The Hufflepuffs looked disappointed, but clapped good-naturedly. I threw down my scarf in frustration as I watched Draco lower himself to the green pitch below him. As he reached the bottom, I could see someone running out to meet him. It was a girl with wild hair and fair skin. She ran out and threw her arms around him. It can't be… Is it…? I turned to look at Ron, and his face confirmed it.

It was Hermione in the scene below, locked in a passionate embrace with Malfoy.

"Why… Why would she snog Malfoy?" I heard Ron say, his voice breaking, adding to the horror-stuck look on his face.

Oh my giddy God.