It seemed that, along with Harry and Ron, Hermione had gained the – if not friendship – friendly acquaintanceship of a few other people. The twins, of course, had declared to her that she was not just a friend of Ron's but a friend of the family – and therefore practically family herself. Although this sounded like a bit of an exaggeration to Hermione, she now found it much easier to be around them. She had gone from avoiding their eyes in the corridors to nodding and smiling, and they sometimes even asked each other how things were going. All in all, much more pleasant. Her dorm mates too, appeared to have had a change of heart since Hallowe'en. Hermione blushed to think of the mean thoughts she'd had toward Parvati when she'd happened upon her in the girls' bathroom – it turned out that she had actually been concerned about her. She and Lavender always made sure to wave at her when she entered a room now, and Parvati had even offered to lend her a butterfly clip for her hair. These were small things, but Hermione had never really had many girlfriends, and it meant a lot to her that she no longer felt like a total outsider in her own dorms.

In a strange turn of events, Quidditch was becoming a point of common ground for Hermione too. She had leant Harry her copy of Quidditch Through the Ages and he'd seemed to enjoy reading it much more than she had. Not only that, but as Harry's first game loomed nearer, Ron had gathered her together with the boys' dorm mates Seamus and Dean, along with Neville, to make a banner for them to hold. Ron had come up with the slogan 'Potter for President' which Neville had printed, with a surprisingly steady hand, onto an old bedsheet, while Seamus and Dean worked together to draw a Gryffindor lion underneath. With a little bit of tricky magic, Hermione added a charm that made the paint flash different colours. They all cheered.

"That's a nifty bit o' magic, that, Hermione," said Seamus, looking impressed.

"Yeah, that's wicked – there's no way he could miss it now." Added Dean, grinning. She beamed back.

"Quality stuff, Granger." Fred and George had appeared from seemingly nowhere to admire their handiwork.

"Thank you very much indeed," She smiled.

"Would that work on Angelina?" Lee Jordan, to whom she had never spoken, had arrived with the twins.

"Angelina?" wondering why he would want to make the Gryffindor's star Chaser flash different colours.

"My tarantula," explained Lee, grinning, "I named it after Angelina Johnson as a show of my undying love but she didn't seem too impressed."

"I wonder why," she deadpanned, "I'm afraid it only works on paint."

"Ah, well," said Lee, "better luck next time, I guess."

"You'll need more than luck to get Angelina Johnson to go out with you, Lee." said George, elbowing his friend.

"Our friend is rather romantically challenged," said Fred in a stage whisper, "it's actually a medical condition called stupidus affectus." Everyone laughed.

"You speak Latin?" Hermione had read a few things about the language and his 'medical condition' didn't sound too far off from an actual translatable phrase.

"It is the language of love, is it not?" Said Fred, waggling his eyebrows at her.

"That's French," she said, laughing.

"And we don't speak either," said George, "it just comes up a lot in potions so we looked up some insults in it."

"To throw at Snape, you understand," added Fred.

"Anyway," said George, "we'd best be off."

"See you at the game, ma chérie." Fred was developing an awful habit of winking at her as he ended conversations and Hermione wasn't sure if she liked it or not. They waved and were gone.

Being friends with Harry and Ron didn't mean never disagreeing with them, as Ron was reaffirming when they made their way down to the Quidditch pitch on match day.

"Buy Harry heard him say that he went looking for the three headed dog!"

"I'm not denying that! But there could be a million reasons why he went there-"

"Like what? He wanted to have a tea party with the thing?" She sighed.

"Maybe he was sent to check on it. In case the troll-"

"You're not stupid enough to think the troll was a coincidence, Hermione – you said it yourself earlier, it was almost definitely a diversion."

"I was just thinking out loud then. That doesn't mean that Snape is after-"

"You just don't believe teachers can do anything wrong," said Ron, dismissively, as they reached their seats.

"That's not true." But Hermione couldn't quite muster the conviction she had been aiming for, and they left the argument there, as Lee Jordan's voice began announcing the teams.

While she doubted she would ever feel the same devoted passion to the game as Ron and Harry, Hermione couldn't deny that it was easy to get caught up in the game. She laughed along with the others at Lee's commentating:

"…Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor – what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too –"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor." She caught one of the twins bending over slightly on his broom as though from laughter, although Angelina appeared not to care as she worked with Alicia Spinnet – another third year – to get the Quaffle back to the Slytherin end. It seemed that what the boys had been saying about this year's team was right, it really did seem very good – even to Hermione, with her limited experience. Oliver Wood was never anything but vigilant, defending Gryffindor's goalposts valiantly. The trio of girls that made up the Chasers worked so well together that it seemed almost as though they were thinking with one mind. Fred and George, clubs in hand, were more powerful than she would have thought without seeing them play herself, and not without strategy, sending Bludgers hurtling into the paths of potentially problematic Slytherins and protecting their own players.

Of course, most of Hermione's attention was on Harry. He had told them beforehand that he agreed with Wood to circle above the action until he spotted the snitch, to avoid getting caught up in any nastiness. Still, she had her binoculars trained on him so often that she almost missed Angelina putting up the first ten points for Gryffindor. As they cheered, Hagrid arrived, and they moved up to let him sit.

"No sign of the snitch yet, eh?" He too, had seemed to come as a package deal with Harry and Ron, and since they had become friends, was entirely as kind and conversational with her as he was to the other two.

"Nope," said Ron, "Harry hasn't had much to do yet."

"Kept outta trouble, though, that's something'," said Hagrid. Hermione was about to agree when things started happening which called the statement into question. Harry was almost hit by a Bludger before Fred arrived to beat it furiously towards the Slytherin captain, and then-

"Slytherin in possession, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys and Chaser Bell and speeds towards the – wait a moment – was that the snitch?" Hermione stood up and found that most of the crowd had done the same, murmuring amongst themselves and scanning the pitch.

Harry saw it before any of them did, diving for it only to be cut off by Marcus Flint, who almost knocked him off his broom. Hermione joined in with the roar of rage that echoed around the Gryffindor stand.

"Send him off, ref! Red card!" it was Dean Thomas, waving his fist madly at Madam Hooch.

"This isn't football Dean," Ron reminded him.

"You're muggle-born?" Hermione blurted, turning towards him. His anger at Flint dropped from his face as he looked at her in surprise.

"Yeah, why?" She shook her head, mildly embarrassed.

"It's nothing – just – I've not had a chance to talk to anyone else who came here from the Muggle world." He nodded at her understandingly.

"It's was all a bit overwhelming, wasn't it?" She made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a groan.

"Tell me about it!" He grinned and looked like he was about to reply when –

"Dunno what Harry thinks he's doing," Hagrid was frowning at the pitch through his binoculars and Hermione looked to see what he meant. He did seem to flying very oddly, his broom jerking wildly in all different directions. She glanced at Ron to see if this was some strange technique for misdirecting the opposition or something, but he looked equally as confused. Suddenly, the Nimbus began rolling in the air, and even from this distance, Hermione – and everyone watching – realised that Harry no longer had control of it. She gasped as he was thrown off, dangling from it by one desperately clinging hand.

"Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark Magic – " Hermione seized Hagrid's binoculars from him and scanned the crowd. Come on, come on… I know you're there… Ha!

"What are you doing?" moaned Ron, his face ashen.

"I knew it," she gasped, "Snape – look." She didn't wait for him to catch on, pushing past Hagrid to get to the stairs. "He's doing something – jinxing the broom."

"What should we do?" Ron had lowered the binoculars and was looking at her desperately.

"Leave it to me."

Hermione ran down as fast as she could, tucking the long sides of her robe up to let her legs move more freely. She glanced up, terrified she would be too late. Harry was still clinging on, barely. Fred and George had flown over to him and were trying to help him onto the safety of one of their brooms. She let out a yelp of horror as the Nimbus bucked at them, almost knocking Fred off his broom as well as putting Harry's grip in danger. Focus on what you have to do, she scolded herself, turning her attention back to her target. She was following Lee Jordan's voice, knowing that he was sitting with Professor McGonagall in the teacher's box- there!

She raced through the row behind Snape, knocking Professor Quirrell over as she went but not bothering to stop and apologize. Kneeling over the trails of Snape's cloak, she muttered a spell and blue flames shot from her hand, catching the black material. She looked back up through the slats at Harry – still holding on, thank God – and the two scarlet clothed figures that were Fred and George, circling beneath him, clearly hoping to catch him if he did fall. But-

Finally, Snape realised he was on fire. With a cry of surprise, he stood up, and Hermione knew her job was done. She extinguished the fire quickly and bolted from the stands, glancing up just in time to see Harry climbing back up onto his broom, safe again. With a sigh of relief, she cheered with the rest of the crowd, heading back to the Gryffindor stands.

Before she could get there, however, the match was already over – Harry almost swallowed the Snitch not thirty seconds after remounting his broom, and, seeing as she was already on the ground… She ran for the middle of the pitch, flinging her arms around Harry as he touched down, laughing wildly and waving the Snitch in his fist like a trophy. She felt two warm bodies slam hard into her from both sides and heard Fred and George's whooping join Harry's as they embraced him, apparently not caring if Hermione was caught in the middle too. The rest of the side reached the ground soon after and before she knew it, Hermione was in the middle of a team celebration, feeling just as much a part of it as the boy she had just saved.

Two today to make up for yesterday - I hope it doesn't disappoint. I know this is another chapter which goes over old ground, but hopefully with tools new enough to grow something new from it? Wow, that metaphor got away from me.Can I also please thank the guests who have been reviewing, it really keeps me motivated and I'm sorry I can't reply to you personally as I'm doing with the user reviews - you are very much appreciated x