On the first Saturday of November, the Gryffindor team marched onto the pitch carrying Cleansweep Elevens. They were met with jeers and laughter by the Slytherin crowd, and smug looks from Montague and his team.

"What happened to that Firebolt, Potter?" Malfoy asked, as Harry came to stand between Katie and Angelina. "Finally decided to get the Weasleys some much-needed gold, eh?"

Madam Hooch shot him a glare and said, "That's quite enough."

The Slytherins would have laughed had it not been obvious that Harry wasn't playing Chaser. The absence of Ginny (their practise Seeker) meant that Ron was the only newcomer on the team, and therefore that Oliver Wood's side had been largely unchanged. Still, Malfoy's moment of shock didn't last long, as he couldn't help grinning upon eyeing Harry's broomstick.

"You really are an idiot, Potter," Malfoy said behind Madam Hooch's back. "What brainless 'tactics' are you playing at? I guess the Prophet's right about you after all."

Harry ignored Malfoy as they waited for the captains' handshake. This was exactly the sort of overconfidence that Harry was hoping for, as it meant that Malfoy could be thrown off his game even easier.

Can't wait to embarrass this prat.

Meanwhile, as Madam Hooch told the captains to shake hands, Harry overheard Katie reminding Ron not to get unsettled by the Slytherins. Katie had gone against Hermione's advice of getting Ron to ignore those crown-shaped 'Weasley is our king' badges, and instead told Ron to man up. If he wanted to stay on the team, he would have to prove that he was above such petty taunts.

"I'll try," said Ron, looking rather ill all of a sudden. "No promises."

Madam Hooch told them to mount their brooms and get ready. Then she placed her whistle in her mouth and blew.

"And they're off!" said Lee Jordan over his magical megaphone. He praised Angelina as usual (and got scolded by Professor McGonagall as usual) before turning his attention to their brooms. "And the big excitement for us all are those Cleansweep Elevens fielded by our boys and girls."

The Slytherins jeered again.

"Laugh all you want, but – OH!" (Most of the crowd went wild as Angelina entered the scoring area, in which only one attacking Chaser was allowed.) "Look at that! Angelina rounds Pucey and goes straight for Bletchley! She shoots ... SHE SCORES!"

But while everyone else was celebrating Gryffindor's ten-nil lead, the Slytherin crowd broke into a song called 'Weasley is our king'. Harry saw Ron looking more and more nervous as Pansy Parkinson stood with her back to the pitch, waving her hands like a conductor.

Can't lose focus, Harry thought, as he switched to eyeing Malfoy. Ron will just have to take care of himself.

Fortunately, Montague, Warrington, and Pucey were denied time and again by Angelina, Katie, and Alicia. Up until now, the gulf in class between the Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones and whatever old brooms the Gryffindors had been flying had given the Slytherins a slight edge overall. But now, with the Cleansweep Elevens having closed that gap somewhat, the Slytherins were having a hectic time out there.

WHACK.

"Ohhhh!" Lee sounded just as delighted as the rest of the Gryffindors supporters today. "Bletchley gets hit just as Johnson goes in! She shoots ... AND SCORES!"

It was twenty-zero. The Slytherins carried on with their song.

"Game restarts with Bletchley passing to Montague. Montague to Pucey. Pucey returns. Montague ducks Angelina –"

WHAM.

"– brilliant Bludger to Montague just outside of the scoring area! And now it's Katie Bell of Gryffindor picking up the Quaffle ..."

Katie scored just a few seconds later through the left hoop. The Slytherin song was drowned out by cheers and applause elsewhere.

"What a riot so far!" said Lee, as Bletchley restarted the game. "Bletchley makes a long pass to Pucey down the right. Pucey accelerates past Spinnet. Pucey passes to Montague on his left. Johnson coming in. Montague passes to Warrington on his left. And now it's Montague speeding into the Gryffindor half!"

By sheer luck, Crabbe got himself between Montague and the Bludger sent his way.

"WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN!"

"All right, Ron," said Lee, as Montague drew closer. "Montague's in the clear, and he's coming right at you! Let's see what you got!"

"HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN!"

Montague cut in from the right and took aim. Ron made a wild dive with his arms wide open. The Quaffle went soaring between them into the central hoop.

"WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN!"

"Ohhh!" said Lee, ignoring the Slytherins' cheers and laughter. "Bad luck there, Ron. Thirty-ten so far."

"WEASLEY IS OUR KING!"

But the next round of cheers came from the Gryffindor supporters, as Angelina rallied her team to another two goals in quick succession. They were trying to keep the action away from Ron as best as they could, though it wasn't sustainable.

"Warrington in the clear down the left side!" said Lee (the Slytherins sang at their loudest yet). "He's streaking across goal! He shoots ..."

Ron made a jerky sort of dive to the left (his right). The Quaffle bounced off his head.

"SAVED BY RON!" said Lee. "What's that about not saving a single thing?"

The Slytherins kept singing, but Harry was pleased to see that Ron had regained some of his composure.

"– Gryffindor still in possession as the captain works her Cleansweep to its top speed. That's a hundred miles per hour coming through the centre, people!"

The Slytherins booed and started chanting "NIMBUS!" over and over again.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," said Lee. "And here's Johnson passing to Bell, having outflown those amazing Nimbuses along the way. Bell coming in with pure talent ... Bletchley hoping Malfoy's expensive broom can do the trick ..."

The Gryffindor supporters cheered at their loudest.

"Bell shoots ... SAVED BY BLETCHLEY!"

Now it was the Slytherins' turn to cheer, but Katie silenced them just a few seconds later.

"And she SCORES on the rebound!" Lee said, cheering. "Brilliant work from Katie Bell to make it sixty-ten!"

Harry continued his search for the Golden Snitch. Grinning, he pushed his Cleansweep Eleven from nought to seventy in ten seconds, at which Malfoy went from nought to one hundred in ten seconds behind him. Malfoy mocked Harry's broom as he sped past him.

"Should've stuck with the Firebolt, Potter!"

What an idiot. Harry snorted as he pulled his broom and went on a climb. He reckoned it would be better to search from higher ground at this point.

"Looks like Potter's just taken the mickey out of Malfoy," said Lee, as Malfoy went speeding past the jeering Gryffindor crowd on a wild goose chase. "Excellent!"

The match continued with most of the action happening in the Slytherin half. Angelina used whatever advantage she could to break the Slytherins' broom advantage, culminating in a quick two goals by Alicia and Katie.

"Blimey!" said Lee. "Imagine how good we'd be on Nimbuses too! It's eighty-ten to Gryffindor so far, with Montague and his boys looking as clueless as ever –"

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat in the background.

"So, er, anyway ..." said Lee. "Both Seekers are still searching for the Snitch, while –"

BAM.

"Ohhh! Terribly unlucky for Katie Bell over there! Pucey takes the Quaffle after Bell gets hit in the shoulder!"

Harry saw one of the twins whack a Bludger in the speeding Pucey's direction. But Goyle put himself in the way.

"Goyle taking up space to stop that Bludger ... Pucey moving in ... Pucey exploiting the hundred-and-thirty-miles-per-hour maximum of his broom down the centre ..."

Harry saw a glimmer of gold far above the pitch. He sped into a sharp climb just as the Slytherins cheered and sang their song again.

I'll show them, Harry thought.

The Snitch did a sharp loop in the air and shot down in a dive. Harry followed it at his maximum speed of a hundred miles per hour.

"– Potter's on the Snitch!" Lee said. "Guess Malfoy was caught sleeping on his daddy's broom!"

But it wasn't long until Malfoy came streaking across the pitch. He had a thirty-miles-per-hour advantage in both acceleration and top speed over Harry.

"Pucey's in again!" said Lee. "He shoots ... SAVED BY RON!"

Harry forced his attention back onto the Snitch. It stopped its dive near the base of the Slytherin goalposts.

"WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN!"

"Like my lyrics?" Malfoy asked, as he came up behind Harry. "I wrote them myself, you know!"

But Harry ignored Malfoy and focused on chasing the Snitch. Malfoy shot past him and laughed, though Harry took an early turn as the Snitch took a gradual left. This placed Harry at an advantage as he cut the corner instead of taking the long way around, though he couldn't risk leaving Malfoy unchallenged.

"Now it's Warrington who's in!" said Lee (the Slytherins almost drowned him out in their song). "WARRINGTON SCORES! EIGHTY-TWENTY!"

Slowly but surely, the Slytherins were beginning to break down Angelina's tactics. They were putting more and more pressure on the Gryffindor side now, while going back to their old ways of exploiting their broom advantage. Ron was put under heavy pressure from one attack after another.

"SAVED BY RON!"

Then, just a few seconds later ...

"GOAL BY MONTAGUE! EIGHTY-THIRTY!"

Meanwhile, Harry continued to push closer and closer to the Snitch despite his broom disadvantage. He followed the Snitch's movements far better than Malfoy, to the point where Harry swooped in ahead of Malfoy at one stage.

"Enjoy it while it lasts!" said Malfoy. "Whoops, my bad!"

Harry couldn't care less as Malfoy accelerated past him. The Snitch had just taken a steep dive, which Harry followed (while Malfoy had to brake hard up ahead).

"SAVED BY – no ... MONTAGUE SCORES!" said Lee. "IT'S EIGHTY-FORTY NOW!"

It became eighty-fifty shortly afterwards, via Pucey, and then ninety-fifty as the Slytherins conceded a penalty (which Alicia Spinnet converted). Harry followed the Snitch to the bottom of its dive and pulled up hard.

CRASH.

"BRILLIANT!" said Lee (the Gryffindor supporters roared with laughter). "Malfoy just got PLOUGHED after failing to stop himself in time! It's like a Wronksi Feint but with the Snitch actually there!"

Harry laughed as Malfoy went tumbling along the grass.

WHACK.

Another wave of laughter could be heard across the stands.

"Good one, George! Or was it Fred?" Lee paused to contain his sniggers. "Malfoy got whacked just as he tried to take off! Crabbe was far too thick to see that coming!"

Left unchallenged, Harry leaned low on his broom and accelerated to a hundred miles per hour. He was joined by Fred coming in on his left, Beater's bat at the ready.

"Yeah, Pucey scores," said Lee, whose attention was focused on Harry above all else. "Anyway ... POTTER'S GAINING ON IT! Come on ... almost there ..."

Malfoy came speeding past Harry as they flew past the Ravenclaw stands. "You'll never catch me, Potter!"

But then the Snitch did a sudden loop-the-loop around Malfoy that left him flummoxed for a moment. Harry flew right past Malfoy and followed the Snitch as it turned a sharp left.

"Goal by Warring – POTTER'S DONE IT! HE'S CAUGHT THE SNITCH!"

Harry pulled out of his left turn with the Snitch in his grasp. He was about to punch the air when he heard a loud 'WHACK' behind him, as Fred deflected Crabbe's Bludger.

"Enough!" said Madam Hooch, blasting her whistle. "This match is over!"

The next thing Harry knew, he was being scooped up by an ecstatic Angelina, Katie, and Alicia. Fred and George joined in too, and then came Ron, looking as if he was about to pass out.

"Never again ..." he muttered. "Should quit."

"Oh, sod off," said Fred, waving his hand in a dismissive manner at Ron. "If it wasn't for your shoddy 'goalkeeping', we wouldn't've had to pull back and get overrun."

"I think he did all right," said Katie, frowning. "Oh, great, look who it is."

Malfoy landed nearby and climbed off his broom. He was white faced and furious, and started throwing out all sorts of insults about Ron, his family, their house, and Harry's short-lived friendship with a foreigner behind Madam Hooch's back (she was busy reprimanding Crabbe).

"Yeah, sure, whatever," said Harry. Then he pointed to his broom and tried to keep a straight face. "End of the day, I beat you on a Cleansweep."

"Tell me, Potter," said Malfoy, backing away. "Can you remember what your mother's house stank like? Does Weasley's pigsty remind you of it?"

In the few seconds wherein Harry stood confused over his course of action, Fred and George broke free from Angelina and Alicia, and started pummelling Malfoy. Harry was forced to draw his wand and cast a Banishing Charm at Malfoy, pushing him out of harm's way.

"What d'you do that for?" Ron asked, looking bewildered. "Let him have it!"

As much as Harry agreed, he was still a prefect in this situation. It wasn't an easy decision by any means.

Tonks wouldn't want me to lose my head.

But the damage was done. Harry felt a wave of fury as he saw Malfoy, despite being beaten to a pulp, stand up with a grin on his face as Madam Hooch berated Fred and George for their attack (Crabbe and Goyle guffawed). It was clear as day that he'd provoked them in the hopes of weakening the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

"Don't know how you did it, mate," George told Harry later that evening, in the common room. "How'd you take it so lightly when the pile of rubbish was insulting us all?"

Fred nodded. "And your mum too, Harry. What on Earth were you thinking about to keep calm there?"

Hermione peered over her Arithmancy textbook, while sitting at a corner table. "It's because he's a prefect, that's why. The two of you should have known better than to fall for such a simple trick."

"Easy for you to say," said Fred, clenching his fist. "At least we got in a few good hits, eh, George?"

"Wasn't enough, though."

Angelina was glaring daggers at the twins from across the common room. Harry chose to head for his dormitory just as Angelina let loose over Gryffindor's lack of Beaters.

"So much for a win, huh?" Ron said in the empty dormitory. He was sitting slumped at the edge of his bed, staring at his broom in his hands. "No Beaters and no Keeper. We're finished."

"What do you mean 'no Keeper'?" Harry asked. "You're not quitting, are you?"

Ron shrugged. "What's the point of playing when you're rubbish? Bet a first-year would've done better than I did."

"You're being stupid," said Harry, getting ready for bed. "Just as much as that stupid song today."

"Yeah, that wound me up –"

"It would've wound anyone up," said Harry, sighing. "What else can you expect from a house of prats? They've got the likes of Malfoy and Snape after all."

Ron went silent for a while before speaking. "Fred and George would've still been playing if it wasn't for Umbridge. Why'd she have to stick her nose in Quidditch business?"

Harry shrugged. "Probably bored of Hogwarts already. Hope she leaves soon."

"Doubtful," said Ron. "But still, how's it fair that Fred and George got banned while Crabbe only got lines. Git tried to whack you after the game!"

But Harry wasn't in the mood to discuss this yet again. He yawned and said that it was time for bed.

Hagrid returned the next day. Harry, Hermione, and Ron paid him a visit and listened to his tale about the giants, after which they warned him about Professor Umbridge and her inspections. Hermione took it upon herself to set up an 'acceptable' curriculum for Hagrid.

"I don't care if she throws out Trelawney," Hermione said after leaving Hagrid's cabin, "but she's not getting rid of Hagrid!"

Unfortunately, Professor Umbridge wasn't impressed by Hagrid's Thestral-lesson on Tuesday afternoon. She went around asking various questions about Hagrid and his class (while also mocking him), which Malfoy and his lot were all too happy to answer. Harry made sure to mention 'Cleansweep' when he passed Malfoy after class.

"We'll see who's laughing when the half-breed gets sacked," Malfoy said behind Harry's back. "And after that, hopefully the overaged lunatic who hired him in the first place."

"Sure," said Harry, while Hermione shot Ron a warning glance to stop him from interfering. "Just remember that I swept the board with you."

Malfoy and his group went silent as the trio carried on up the sloping lawns.

"Nothing better than shoving it in the ferret's face," Harry said. Then he saw Hermione eyeing him in a curious manner, and gave a slight frown. "What? Don't tell me you've got a problem with it?"

Hermione shook her head quickly. "No, of course not! I was just wondering whether you've changed your mind about our Defence issue."

Now that was random. Harry paused for thought as they reached the top of the slope. "Maybe in the new year, I don't know."

"How are we going to do this anyway?" Ron asked. "We can't risk Umbridge walking in on us while Harry's teaching."

Neither Harry nor Hermione had an answer to this. There only hope was in using one of the abandoned classrooms, though there was always the chance of being interrupted.

"At least we've got the map," said Harry, feeling a rush of gratitude towards his father, Sirius, and Lupin. "But it won't matter if we can't think up an escape route. How many people do you reckon will show up?"

"Quite a few," said Hermione, looking thoughtful. "Probably in the dozens, if you asked me."

Ron shot Harry a dark look. "There's no way we're getting away with this. Not with Filch on our case."

Harry agreed, but Hermione wasn't giving up that easily.

"I'm sure we can work something out over the holidays," she said. "There has to be a way!"

December arrived, bringing with it a disastrous amount of homework for the fifth-years. Harry and Hermione's prefect duties also became increasingly demanding as Christmas approached. They were called upon to supervise the decoration of the castle (a task made all the more annoying by Peeves), to watch over the lower-years spending their break-times inside due to the cold (they were a cheeky bunch, that was for sure), and to patrol the corridors in shifts with none other than Argus Filch (who remained on high alert around Harry). They were so busy that Hermione had to stop knitting her elf hats, though nobody else cared.

During the third week of the month, Angelina scheduled a Beater tryouts-session that resulted in her breaking down in tears in the changing room. She couldn't believe that Andrew Kirke and Jack Sloper were the best that Gryffindor had to offer, and had to be counselled by Alicia and Katie before she would return to the pitch.

"Why don't you try out instead?" Ron asked Ginny. They were standing on the sidelines, watching Angelina put Kirke and Sloper through some extra tests. "You could be like Gwenog Jones, you know?"

Ginny gave a loud snort. "Just because I like the Holyhead Harpies doesn't mean I think about them all the time. Keep playing like you do in front of goal, and you'd be a fine match for the Cannons."

Harry, Alicia, and even Katie laughed.

"Don't be so hard on him," Katie told Ginny. "At this point, I'd take anyone over Kirke and Sloper. We're going to get bashed against Hufflepuff for sure."

"I'd try out if we could find a replacement Seeker," Harry said, to the others' surprise. "Maybe Ginny and I could be the new Beaters."

"Sure," said Ginny, rubbing her chin. "But then who's going to play Seeker?"

Nobody had an answer to this. It had been hard enough getting their backup Seeker (Ginny) in the first place.

"We're so screwed," said Alicia, sighing.

Later that night, after hanging out in the common room and watching Hermione write a letter to Viktor Krum (Ron didn't seem too bothered), Harry went up to his dormitory and called it a night. He dreamed of Beaters, bats, Bludgers, and Tonks ... and then of something that made him jerk up to Ron's voice.

"Harry!"

Mr Weasley had just been attacked ... by Harry himself?