Just a little thing rounding off their first year. I'm sorry it's so short, but I'm going away for a week, so I wanted to give you something.

See you in eight days.

~HOGWARTS~

Harry's catch ensured that Slytherin won not only the Quidditch cup, but the house cup as well. For the rest of the year he was a hero, and Slytherins were patting him on the back wherever he went. Even Higgs offered him congratulations, despite being sad that he had missed out on what would have been his last ever Hogwarts match. Flint, of course, was ecstatic, and had promised him a permanent position on the main team, the youngest ever Slytherin to be afforded such an honour.

Cedric Diggory had also approached him. Harry tried to apologise for almost making him crash in that last dive, but Cedric laughed it off, insisting that the best flier had won. He had given the young boy a 'winner's present' – the latest copy of Which Broomstick.

"It has an order form in the back," he said. "So you can get your own broom for next year."

"Wow," said Harry, touched. "Thanks Cedric."

"Don't mention it," he said. "No really…" he continued in a teasing tone. "Don't. If word gets out that I'm helping a snake…"

He winked, and ruffled the boy's hair before leaving.

All the first years were relieved to discover that they had all passed their exams to get through to the next year. Life at Hogwarts was almost perfect, but there was one black mark against the student's happiness.

"It is my sad duty to announce," said Dumbledore gravely. "That the body of Professor Quirrel was discovered yesterday, deep below the school. His remains showed evidence of dark magic."

The students were sad, of course, but who knew… perhaps next year they would get someone who could actually teach.

~HOGWARTS~

"Queen to E5."

Harry knew it had been a mistake as soon as he said it, and a grin spread across Mark's face.

"Rook to F6," he said triumphantly. "Checkmate."

Harry sighed in annoyance as his king surrendered its crown.

"C'mon, Harry! It's just a game!"

"Or two, or three…" said Draco.

"I just don't get how it's done," said Harry sadly. "All these strategies…"

"You'll learn," said Mark. "Slytherin is all about strategy, you'll pick it up soon enough."

Harry shrugged, and returned the pieces to the bag the three boys were sat in a compartment of the Hogwarts express, speeding towards London. The glass door slid open, and Hermione appeared, dressed in her muggle attire.

"Come on, boys," she said mildly. "We'll be there soon. Do you really want to go into King's Cross in your robes?"

"My parents are apparating me straight from the platform," said Draco. "Besides, I don't own any muggle clothes."

"Would you like to borrow some?" asked Mark, rummaging through his trunk. "We're roughly the same size."

"Nah, father would go mental," said Draco. All four raised their eyebrows as the idea struck them. He leapt up.

"Alright, Mark, let's look at what you've got."

They all knelt on the floor.

"Okay," said Mark. "These are jeans, and this is a t-shirt…"

~HOGWARTS~

"Hermione," said Harry. "Can I have your telephone number?"

She nodded, and pulled out a scrap of old parchment.

"We should all meet up sometime," she said. "Draco, I'm sure my parents would love for you to come and stay…"

"We've been through this, Hermione. I won't be allowed."

"Here you go, Harry."

"Thanks, here's my number, but let me call you first, yeah? I don't want to get into trouble with my uncle."

The train slowed, and then stopped.

"Here goes nothing," said Draco. Mark patted his back.

The porter helped them all find trolleys for their trunks. A lot of students joined the queue to enter the muggle part of the station, but Harry, Hermione and Mark surreptitiously followed Draco to the end of the platform, where a small number of wizarding families were waiting for their children.

Before leaving the magical world, they took a moment to reflect upon what they had learnt that year…

And of course, to enjoy the look of outrage on Lucius Malfoys face.