After lunch had ended that Saturday, everyone found their way to the stands and team tents. They only had a short while to change their clothes and have the optional encouraging speech or talk of strategy. "What are we going to do?" Flint shouts.

"Win!" the team sounds.

"And how are we going to do it?" he yells again.

"At the costs!" the team erupts.

Harry had been quiet. He was well aware of what the 'all costs' meant. It involved everything from bumping into other players to not backing down due to illness or injury. Being sick and throwing up is seen as an advantage, as it's just another obstacle the other team has to get around. He doesn't like it. Other teams think they're just being unfair, but he doesn't understand how it's unfair if his team members have to suffer as well. Although, no one should have to suffer at all.

"And Harry, what will you do?"

Harry shakes himself from his thoughts, "Catch the snitch, even if it kills me."

The captain shows his uneven teeth in a large smirk, "Yes. You will." He claps his hands together, "We need to win this to have any chance at securing that cup, so get out there, do your best, and don't let anything or anyone get in your way."

Everyone had stood rather quickly, most likely due to the messed up pep talk, but Harry continues to sit in thought. He was used to pretending he didn't exist, whenever his uncle had coworkers stopping by for dinner or whenever a reason was found to throw Dudley one of those elaborate parties. What he wasn't used to was being told he's expendable. Obviously he isn't and Harry knows that, but on the Slytherin team winning is everything. If he catches the snitch but dies, and if they did win the seasonal cup, then he would die a hero. "Harry? You coming?"

Harry looks up to see Draco standing above him, "Yeah. Sorry. I was just thinking."

"What about?"

Harry shakes his head, "Nothing. It's nothing." He walks ahead, "Let's go." Exiting the tent, the heating charms no longer take effect, and they are subdued to the cold November air. The frosted grass crunch under their boots, as a large wind passes over them and Draco crosses his arms with a shiver. "You alright?"

"Yeah," Draco lets out a breath. "Just cold."

"Maybe you should have worn something more under the quidditch robes today. I know I had to keep on a long sleeve shirt and a pair of sweatpants."

Draco shudders, "For your information, Potter, I'm actually wearing a sweater and two layers of gloves, both complete with heating enchantments."

Harry's quiet for a moment, "And you're still cold?"

"Yes, well, I get cold. Surely you remember that."

Harry nods, and then shakes his head while feeling rather stupid, "Yes. I do. I'm sorry." Draco doesn't respond. "Are you sure you'll be okay to play?"

"I'll play until I'm dead."

Meanwhile, Hermione is in the Gryffindor stands skimming through a book, as Ron sits next to her and looks out at the field and sees Harry and Malfoy lagging significantly behind the other players. "What do you think that's about?"

Hermione looks up and notices Harry grabbing Draco's arm to turn him around, and soon after there's some hand and arm motions with clear frustration, "Looks like an argument."

Ron watches as Hermione dives back into her book, "What could they be arguing about?"

She looks up and takes a frustrated breath, "I don't know, Ron. May you please just let me read? I need to find any connection I can between Dumbledore and Flamel."

Ron nods before looking back to the field, "You know I'd be happy to help you, right? It's just that I can't with homework and these very important things."

Hermione raises an eyebrow, doubting whatever he thought to be important to actually be important. It's probably nothing more than some excuse. "Ron, this is something very important. You know how important this must be, if it's really been guarded by so many things."

"Yeah, yeah." It had been less of a question and more a lecture, and he hates lectures. He looks around the field, seeing his brothers as prepared as ever, and slides his eyes back over towards the Slytherin team. Harry and Draco still weren't with the group, which was now running through a basic checklist of tied boots and such. "What the bloody hell?"

"What is it?" Hermione peers up from her book. Ron points towards the two Slytherin players, and Hermione watches as Draco attempts to push Harry with poor results. Harry pushes back and suddenly Draco is slammed against the ground, which was a much larger outcome than the single inch Harry had been pushed.

"Oh my God. I'm so sorry." Harry rushes over and offers Draco a hand up, but Draco looks at him as if he's crazy.

He looks around at the stands, finding himself embarrassed with the many eyes on him. Harry, his friend, had just shown the entire school how weak he truly is; moreover, Harry had shown his father how weak he is. The look on his father's face is one of disapproval, and if his mother had been there he's sure she would have been nothing but worried. He glares back at Harry, "You've done it this time, Potter." before he stands and dusts the wet frost from his robes.

Harry retracts his hand, "I was just trying to help."

Draco shakes his head, "Well, maybe you should learn how to help people in a way that doesn't cause a scene and get certain people into trouble." He glances at his father again, and this time Harry's eyes follow. "Really. You've helped a lot." He turns around and moves forward towards their team, who were now all in position and waiting for them.

Ron mutters in confusion, "What just happened?"

Hermione shakes her head, "I don't know. We're too far to hear." She watches closely as they each climb their brooms and fly into position, but after the first few minutes of the game she's reassured that everything and everyone is okay and that she may return to her research.

A while later Hermione and Ron find themselves making room for Hagrid, and they're forced to squish next to each other. "Been watchin' from my hut," Hagrid says as he taps his binoculars. "But it's not as good as bein' in the crowd." He looks around the field, "No sign of the snitch yet, eh?"

"Nope," says Ron. "The Seekers haven't had much to do yet."

"Ah, yes, well," responds the tall, large man. "I see Harry's kept himself outta trouble. That's somethin'."

"Actually," says Ron.

Hermione interrupts, growling to him in a whisper, "I'm sure it wasn't what it looked like, Ron."

"What didn't look like what?" asks Hagrid.

Hermione lets out a large breath, "Right before the match it seemed like Malfoy and Harry got into a fight."

"Yeah," Ron continues. "And Harry must have pushed him really hard, because Malfoy ended up straight down on his back. Must have hit the ground hard with how fast it was."

Hermione interjects, "But we don't know if Harry meant to push him that hard, had he even pushed him that hard at all."

"Pff," Ron smiles. "Did you not see what I saw? Harry definitely let his anger get the best of him. Not that it matters." He looks at Hermione, "This is Malfoy; the same person who's been messing with you nearly all year, the same person whose family was loyal to You-Know-Who, so don't tell me he doesn't at least deserve it."

Hermione looks to the ground, remembering just how human Draco really is, "You can't base a book by its cover, Ron."

Hagrid responds, "Hermione's right, Ron, and as far as his family bein' loyal to You-Know-Who, they claimed to have only done those things under the imperius curse."

Ron huffs, "My father works in the ministry. You honestly think I don't know that?" He looks back at Hermione, "And you. Malfoy has been nothing but mean to you, and now you're defending him?"

"I'm not defending him," Hermione defends.

"Yes you are," Ron interrupts.

"He's still human," Hermione explains. "And you can't choose your family."

Ron shakes his head, "I can't believe this. You're a bloody sympathizer."

"Ah. Hello?" They look over to Hagrid, who seems to have his eyes glued into the binoculars. "You both may want to see this."

Hermione looks to where his binoculars are pointing to, seeing Harry's broom out of control and flipping in circles. "Ron, I know your brothers love tricks, but this has gone too far."

"It's no trick," responds Hagrid, now ungluing himself from the binoculars. "It's a hex."

Hermione looks at the situation more closely, "You're right. It is." She gestures her head towards his binoculars. "May I borrow those?" Hagrid gives them to her and she finds Snape in the Slytherin stand, "I knew it."

"Knew what?" asks Ron. She hand them to him so he can see, and when she points Snape out to him he sees the teacher muttering while staring at the broom. "What should we do?"

"Leave that to me," Hermione replies before exiting the stand. Soon afterwards a fire erupts from the Slytherin stand, and Harry makes it safely back onto his broom. By the time she makes it back to the stands the game is over, as the announcer soon shouts that Slytherin wins despite the odd broom behavior.

Ron grumbles, "Maybe we shouldn't have done anything."

Hermione hits him on the shoulder, "Don't even think that. He could have died."