Generation X

by Sorcery Sisters

Join Harry and friends for their sixth year at Hogwarts in what promises to be a wild ride of sex, shower rooms, pantomimes, footsie, cheerleading, bitchfighting and more... and in Part Six, prepare for Quidditch like it's never been played before!

6. Cheerleading, Charity and Chicanery

Generation X Spring Term - Part Six

Authors' Note: Aurora and Drosera would like to take this opportunity to apologise very sincerely to anyone who has been waiting for this part since Summer 2001. There is no real excuse for taking as long as we did, and we promise that we will try our best to get the subsequent parts out more quickly. We only hope that the increase in length, plot, sex and Quidditch in this part makes up for any grievance caused. ^_~

***

Late spring sunlight fell in slanted beams over the courtyard, highlighting the mossy stonework and casting long shadows behind the gargoyles and statues on the lawn. It was early evening, and after a hard first day back at school, most of the students were relaxing outside.

"Um, Alicia...hi! Ron here, don't know if you remember me... I'm that good looking rebel who stole your heart in the swimming pool!"

Alicia turned away from her group of friends and looked at the gangly ginger boy who was tugging insistently at her sleeve.

"What was that? Sorry, didn't quite catch it."

Four of the blonde girl's stunning friends were also listening attentively. Taking a deep breath, Ron's words came tumbling out in rapid succession.

"Do you sleep on your stomach? Can I?"

All of the girls burst into uncontrollable laughter at his truly awful chat-up line.

This was not the reaction he had expected. Maybe she didn't get it. He decided to try again. Three times.

"Is that a ladder in your tights or the stairway to heaven? Did it hurt, when you fell from heaven? Do you believe in love at first sight or should I walk past again?"

Hermione, Alicia, Katie, Angelina and Cho were clutching their sides.

Ron really didn't see what was so funny. He'd spent ages working on his timing. It had to work.

He'd really fancied Alicia since the party during the holidays, and was convinced that she felt the same way however deep down she was concealing it. It was only the first day back at school but he'd decided to get in there early and try to score. Time for 'plan B.'

He handed her a small package wrapped in slightly battered wrapping paper that had quite obviously been used before. In fact, it still had a tag on it which read 'Dearest Ronnikins - Merry Christmas from Auntie Margie' - or it had done, before it had been badly crossed out with fluorescent orange highlighter pen.

"Er... thanks?" Alicia said, flicking her hair over her shoulder and pulling at the sellotape cautiously. "Do you want me to open this now?"

"Keen, eh? I like that in a woman!"

She shrugged and looked at her friends as if they might be able to tell her what exactly was going on. As their faces were blank (though Hermione still looked like she couldn't quite believe what she was seeing) she gingerly pulled off the wrappings and examined the contents. Inside were several small shiny packages all bearing the message;

"Sir Shaggalot's Seriously Kinky Condoms - The Man in Your Life just got More Manly!"

"Um... it's a nice gesture and all, but...why on earth would I want them?" asked Alicia.

"You mean you don't want protection against unwanted pregnancy and STIs?!" said Ron, looking absolutely bewildered. "Don't you practise safe sex? I only got them in the Everything's a Knut shop, but they've got the British Kite Mark on them, look. Well made and safe."

"Um... its not quite like that. I appreciate your concern, I really do. Its just that... I'm not in that kind of relationship at the moment."

"You soon could be," said Ron, "if you went out with me!"

"Oh, I'm already in a relationship," Alicia corrected him, "just not one where I'd have a use for those." This caused Hermione to whisper something into her ear. Alicia's eyebrows raised almost imperceptibly for a moment and she smiled.

"Or... I might. But not the way you had in mind."

"Not for sex?" Ron wondered aloud. "But then... how...? Ooooh, I get it! You're going to piss in it and then throw it off a bridge at a car! Me and my mates did that once. It was really cool. Just make sure you check the direction of the wind, first, and then-"

"Would you please shut up?" said Katie Bell impatiently. "The only thing Alicia is likely to do with those condoms is shove them up your arse. Now piss off."

Ron looked hurt, but he took her advice and left. How did the saying go? If at first you don't succeed, try, try again...

*

Lee was feeling very pleased with himself.

After Hermione had broken up with him and accidentally exposed his black-market sex shop, he had decided it was time for Jordan Enterprises to go public, if not entirely legitimate.

To do this, he needed some staff, and had decided to offer a cut of any profits to anyone he could induce to help him. Nothing much was happening at school, and he hoped he could use the lull in events to make some serious cash from his business.

As Hermione felt bad about what she'd done, and she too felt she needed some excitement (as well as the extra cash) it wasn't hard for Lee to persuade her to come on board as his marketing director. This would mean getting to play around with advertising, something she enjoyed immensely. Her ability to communicate well with other students and her popularity were definite bonuses to Lee, who often found he had trouble relating to the female half of the student body.

The other person he asked was a longtime friend of his, Blaise Zabini. Blaise was popular and very likeable, and he was the lead singer and guitarist for Hogwarts' only decent band. He also had a real flair for mathematics, and although he was already fairly well-off, he agreed readily to act as Lee's Financial Advisor. Hermione and Blaise had not met properly before, though they had of course heard of each other. Hermione remembered Blaise both for the stripping incident at the Pantomime and for his alleged fathering of Parvati's baby. And everyone knew Hermione – the ubiquitous girl managed to get involved in almost everything that ever happened at Hogwarts.

With two such influential and trustworthy people under his employment, Lee was full of enthusiasm and excitement at the prospect of turning his hand to real business. Only time would tell quite how successfully – or disastrously – his plans would unfold.

*

Four figures sat in stony silence in front of a fire that was making a valiant effort to crackle cheerfully. It was early evening on Saturday night, and Harry, Dean, Ron and Seamus were at a very loose end. The beginning of term always dragged a bit, and nothing interesting had presented itself for their entertainment.

"What shall we do then?" Ron said brightly. "How about tiddlywinks? Ping! Scoooore! And Ron wins for the fifth time in a row! Or..." he tailed off, spying the incredulous looks on his friends' faces, "...maybe not."

"This is fuckin' borin', this is!" Dean remarked helpfully.

"We could play charades! Or Cluedo! You can be Miss Scarlett, Dean! Everyone always wants to be her! I want to be Reverend Green!"

Harry and Seamus exchanged looks, but Ron was oblivious. He skipped away happily to fetch the battered box of board games.

*

"Keep your head in the game, Harry. It's all about fear... and control. Reach into your heart, and - OW!" Ron was cut short by a blow to the shoulder from Dean.

"You know, there's really no need for violent behaviour. Just because you can't think of a witty retort. You poo!" Ron muttered as an afterthought, looking impressed at his word power.

Harry raised his head from where it had been resting sleepily on the Chinese Chequers board and looked at his friend. "Ron, we are playing Snap. How can Snap be about 'fear and control'?"

"Do not question the Snap Master, Harry." Ron looked smug until Dean smashed him on the other shoulder. Finally taking the hint, the ginger boy retreated into the corner whimpering.

"Look." Dean said authoritatively. "We are just going to sit here, in fuckin' silence, until one of you bitches thinks of somethin' good to do. Alright?" Nobody questioned him. In fact, Harry had already begun to dribble blearily onto the Chess Set.

"We can try basket weaving!" Ron exclaimed, in a flash of inspiration. Dean hit him.

*

Cho put her sleeping bag on the floor of the Gryffindor Girls' dorm and climbed inside, snuggling up to the warm, quilted material. Parvati and Lavender had gone out for the evening, so Hermione had invited her to stay the night. Any delusions the Ravenclaw girl may have had about it being a cordial and friendly affair just for the fun of it were quickly dispelled when Hermione began to pick her brains about the duties and responsibilities of being Head Girl.

"So what do you actually do?" asked Hermione. It was one of those things she'd never been quite sure about.

"I boss people around, enjoy the privileges... 50% discount at Gladrags is probably the best part of the job."

"Fifty percent?! No wonder it's so popular. I could never really see why so many girls fought for the title of 'Miss Goody-Two-Shoes of Hogwarts', but... I'm starting to understand."

"Yeah, well… it's one of the only real perks. If you ask me, it's a lot of hard work for pretty much nothing. But then, I've been doing it for a year now. I'm disillusioned."

"Very funny. You know if it was allowed you'd stand again this year."

"Maybe I would, but as I can't it's not really an issue." Cho picked up an emery board and began to file her nails. "So, I take it you're thinking about putting a campaign together?"

"Well... yeah. You guessed it."

"And you've asked me here to beg for my help and experience?"

"Oops, you saw through my cunning plan," said Hermione sarcastically. "Of course I want your help. You're the resident expert."

"True, true..." agreed Cho, grinning. "But what makes you think I haven't already been approached by dozens of other young novices just desperate for my advice?"

Hermione arched one slim eyebrow and stared incredulously at Cho.

"Okay, okay... so maybe you're the first," Cho admitted, "but my services do not come free of charge."

"You know, if you were a guy then this would be the easiest thing in the world," Hermione said, smiling archly. "I don't suppose the same tactics are likely to work on you?"

"Offering me a sexual favour is unlikely to produce the desired result, if that answers your question," replied Cho.

"Even though I give a great Thai massage?... manicure, pedicure, lapdance?"

Cho shook her head.

"Prude. If you had balls then you'd be putty in my hands," said Hermione ruefully. "What do you want, then?"

"Ah... what a question," said Cho, leaning back onto her pillow. "I have Hermione Granger at my disposal, begging for help-"

"Begging? At what point did you hear me beg?"

"Asking nicely for help, and she wants me to name my price."

"I know you're loving this. Just get on with it. Come on, anything. I'll do it."

Cho thought for a moment.

"Remember ages ago, when McGonagall caught me and Harry in the showers?"

"How could I forget?"

"Well, she gave me a lifetime's worth of detentions which I still haven't finished. I had to clean out all of the teachers' private quarters, one by one. I've managed to do all of them except Dumbledore's."

"Saving the best 'til last?"

"Hardly. Rumour has it he's into granny-porn."

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEW! That exists?"

"Apparently so. I didn't much fancy cleaning up underneath his bed. So that little task is reserved for you."

"How very kind," said Hermione through gritted teeth. She was considering Cho's offer carefully.

"Okay, I'll do it. But in return, you have to pledge your allegiance to me. You back me up, you put in the good words, you help me work the publicity, you pull the goddamn strings. You mess me up and Dumbledore's plughole clogs are going in your panty-drawer. Got that?"

"Whatever," said Cho breezily, "It'll be a cinch anyway. McGonagall loves you since the pantomime. God knows why, as your behaviour as of late has hardly been angelic."

"What are you insinuating?" squealed Hermione in mock innocence.

"I suppose making out with person or persons anonymous in the library for three hours under poor Harry's cloak, setting fire to Lee's boxer shorts, being caught sneaking out of school grounds with Alicia four nights in a row and swapping Seamus' toothpaste for a tube of contraceptive jelly are all part of a normal week for you, huh?"

Hermione giggled. "I guess."

"You are impossible," said Cho, pulling a pyjama-clad Hermione onto the floor and hugging her.

Silence reigned. According to the laws of filmic cliché, there should have been a ball of tumbleweed blowing disconsolately across the deserted floor. The only sound was a slow click... click... click. Desperate times called for desperate measures… and Dean had taken up knitting.

"Nice frock you've got there, Dean," Seamus remarked as he returned from the bathroom. "Just your colour, too."

"Oh, thanks. I got the wool in Hogsmeade. There's a charming haberdashery shop just next to- hey... are you fuckin' takin' the piss?" Seamus paled and shook his head violently. "Good. Better not be, or I'll..." he left the threat unfinished, having got to a particularly tricky stage in the 'KORN' pattern. Silence was again resumed, broken only by an occasional knit one, purl one, knit one, purl one from Dean.

*

"Okay," said Cho, opening up her Flipchart and fishing out a marker pen. "Hermione Granger's Head Girl Campaign starts here."

"It does?"

"Yes. I spent ages on this, so please do me the courtesy of listening."

"Sorry. Go on."

"Ahem. Right. Okay, to win the elections in the Summer Term, you need to do three things now. They are; one, to show your awareness of the importance and benefits of an extra-curricular activity, two-" Cho stopped when Hermione started laughing.

"Cho, honey, I get plenty of extra-curricular 'activity'. And I'm fully aware of the benefits. For example, did you know that every time you orgasm, your body releases immune-boosting hormones which help prevent colds and 'flu in the winter months?"

"Which explains why you've had a perfect medical record since you were 12."

"Oooh, harsh. You're just jealous 'cause you didn't come until you were 17."

"Can we please change the subject?" cut in Cho, blushing slightly, "and I was 16, and I so wish I'd never told you that."

Hermione just smiled in an 'I win' kind of way.

"If I may continue? Two, you have to show interest and concern for the School Environment and take steps to improve it wherever possible."

"Does that translate into Hermi-speak as tidying up?" Hermione's only real experience in this field involved shoving everything that could be constituted as 'mess' into a black bin bag in the hazy aftermath of a party. It had not been pleasant.

"It means tidying up after others as well as yourself. Which is just perfect, considering you'll be cleaning out the Heateacher's chamber pot for the next two weeks."

"Yeah, with your new Dolce & Gabbana top, if you don't stop rubbing that in right now."

"Calm down, Herm. How bad can it be?" Cho tactfully chose to ignore the death-stare that was being directed at her and pressed on. "Three, you need to make a good impression on and have good relations with all of the staff on the Hogwarts pay-list."

"Shouldn't be a problem," said Hermione flippantly, "I'm still an A+ student."

"This includes out of the classroom," reminded Cho. "So no more booking in Professor Sprout for experimental haemorrhoid surgery."

"She looked as though she could do with a little work!" Protested Hermione. "And besides, that was Draco's idea. He just didn't have the balls to do it."

Hermione reached the top of the winding spiral staircase and knocked tentatively at the door.

"Enter," croaked an old voice she knew belonged to Dumbledore. She stepped into the circular dimly-lit room and saw the Headteacher emerging from an adjoining room.

"Ah! Miss Granger, what a very pleasant surprise!" he exclaimed, his cheeks turning pink.

Not for me, Hermione thought, eyeing his purple dressing gown suspiciously. She could see two hairy white ankles protruding from the bottom and couldn't help wondering if he had anything on underneath.

"And, er, what brings such a pretty girl here to see an old man like me on a night like this, eh?" His blue eyes twinkled at her in a manner that some may have interpreted as charming. To Hermione it just seemed extremely perverted.

"Actually, I'm not here to see you," she said. He looked crestfallen. "I'm here to clean the bathroom."

"I was under the impression that this was Miss Chang's duty," said Dumbledore. "And I was just about to take a bath. But," he winked at her, "You're welcome to, er, proceed with your cleaning if you wish. Ahem."

Hermione could not possibly have looked more shocked or disgusted. Or she thought she couldn't, but that was before he began to loosen his robe in a provocative way and confirm her suspicions about his lack of undergarments. Before she could cop an eyeful of his pale, wrinkly flesh, she turned on her heel and fled.

*

"He came on to you?" Cho said incredulously. "He never tried that with me."

"Yeah, well you're welcome to him," Hermione replied. "I've never felt more nauseous in my life. Ever since I accidentally stuck my foot in his crotch, which could of course have happened to anybody, he's had a thing for me. It's as though he thinks I like him."

"Which, you don't, I presume?"

"How about NO! OAP's with wrinkly hard-ons are not my type."

"Okay, okay. Though you've got to admit, he's lucky to still be able to, y'know, perform. He's, what, 300?"

"He probably guzzles Viagra like after dinner mints. Not that I want to be thinking about that," Hermione said quickly, turning slightly green.

"You'd just better hope he leaves you alone next time," Cho said, giggling.

"Next time?!" You cannot seriously think I'm going back there," Hermione protested.

"Then you cannot seriously think that I am going to put in that 'good word' with McGonagall. You know I could get into serious trouble for favouring a student like that and you know I don't come cheap."

Hermione wordlessly realised she had finally met someone almost as cruelly scheming and self-interested as herself. She admired that in a girl.

"Oh, fine." Hermione conceded, "but if anything happens to me I am suing you for all you got."

"Take pepper spray!" Called Cho to her friend's retreating back.

"I hate you." said Hermione, closing the door behind her.

*

The door to the common room burst open and Ron skipped in, clutching an armful of Riverdance tapes.

"I just borrowed these from Hannah Abbot. I thought we could have a jolly old knees-up!" Then he spied Dean's knitting.

"Haha! Dean, you're gay!"

Dean threw the offending knitting aside and stood up, looking severely menacing.

"What did you say, Ron?"

Ron quavered slightly, thinking hard.

"I think what we have here is a slight case of creative mishearing. You see, I didn't say Dean, you're gay. I said... um... Dean, you're Great - hEY!"

Dean couldn't have looked more sceptical if Slipknot had abandoned their music careers and become the hosts of a women's home shopping channel.

"So..." said Ron, hastily attempting to change the subject, "anyone for a clog dance?"

*

Dumbledore rinsed the shampoo from his mane of silver hair, thinking hard.

So, he was 'nearly 300' was he? 'Getting on a bit'? Dumbledore knew that most of his staff already thought he was incompetent and incapable at his age, but he could have done without his students making derogatory comments regarding his sexual prowess, or apparent lack of it. Miss Granger had clearly not been impressed by her last visit to his room, so this time he had made more of an effort to tidy up. He wanted to look smart and handsome for her. He knew he was still young and sprightly. And he was sure he could prove it, if not to her and the others, then to himself.

As he lay ruminating in the tub of foaming water, he found himself remembering a little trick he had perfected as a boy. Could he still manage it? Wounded pride and an irrational urge to prove himself told him, yes. And it was sure to impress Miss Granger.

Crouching on all fours, he prepared himself for the task ahead. Executing a perfect forward roll while in the bath would be tricky, but not impossible. Time for a practise run.

Balancing carefully on his rickety legs, he leaned forward... a little further... further... until... oh no! He had inadvertently gone too far. Unable to stop the inevitable, he tucked in his head and attempted to roll. However, halfway through, something went terribly wrong. His head got lodged under the weight of his body and he quickly realised he was trapped and unable to get his respiratory orifices above the waterline. He was going to drown! Feeling scared and suddenly feeble, he began to gurgle for help as loudly as he could.

*

The second time Hermione ascended the hidden staircase leading to the Headteacher's office, she didn't have to knock on the door. It was already open and the room was warm and steam-filled. The glow of candles gave a soft, romantic air to the room. Or it would have done, if she was not so painfully aware of the horror that awaited her within.

"Um, hello?" she called. When there was no reply, she called out again. "Hello? Is anybody there?"

She received no response save for a quiet gurgling sound that seemed to be coming from the adjoining bathroom. Listening intently, she thought the gurgling sounded a bit like,

"Hgggggrrrrrrrrrrlp! HGGGRRRRRRRLP!" It was louder now, and frantic. Somebody was definitely in trouble.

She dropped her bucket of soapy water and dashed into the bathroom. What she saw was extremely disturbing and put her in a very awkward dilemma. In the tub, Dumbledore seemed to have got himself lodged in a painful and complex position that involved his limbs being trapped, his rear end being in the air and his head being completely immersed in the water. It was he that was making the strange gurgling sound. He desperately needed assistance - he was drowning. But helping him would mean touching his naked flesh! Hermione stood for a moment paused in indecision, but one more look at his splayed legs and his helpless state left her no choice. She grabbed hold of a bony ankle and pulled firmly until he was sitting upright looking extremely dazed and severely short of breath. Spluttering and gasping, he blinked up at his saviour before collapsing into her arms.

Hermione couldn't help dropping him on the floor in disgust before she started screaming for help.

*

"I've got somethin' important to tell ya," Lee said quietly to his new marketing director.

"Oh really?" said an interested Hermione. "Gossip?"

"Yeah, but... you can't tell anyone. It's about Parvati."

"Go on," she prompted, keen to know more.

"Well... you know I had a party... a long time ago now?"

"That's where she got pregnant, right?"

"Right. See, at the moment, she's trying to bring up the baby all on her own, and… she doesn't know who the father is."

"Yes she does. She told me it was Blaise... Blaise Zabini."

"I know she did. But it's not true. You haven't heard the whole story."

"I haven't?" Hermione prided herself on being first with all the breaking news. She couldn't help feeling slightly offended that Lee Jordan was telling her something she hadn't already heard.

"She was so smashed that night that she didn't know what she'd done, let alone who with. There were a lot of dodgy geezers at that party. None of it was, er, anything to do with me, mind. But, y'know, these things 'appen."

"Evidently," said Hermione coolly. "Get on with it... what does Blaise have to do with this?"

"I found her in one of the bedrooms. She'd passed out." Blaise strode in at that moment, his black leather coat swishing impressively behind him. His chin-length fine black hair fell into his face and he had a habit of tucking it behind his multiply-pierced ears that was extremely fetching. Hermione eyed him with interest, especially when she saw his manly dragon-hide boots. He was wearing a black long-sleeved T-shirt with another one over the top, and the black jeans that covered his long legs were tattered. In her opinion, he looked fantastic.

"Um... hi. I'm Hermione Granger, Marketing Director of Jordan Enterprises. I've heard a lot about you." She extended her hand. He looked surprised but flattered. He took her manicured hand in his own and shook it.

"Likewise. I'm Blaise Zabini, Financial Advisor to Mr. Jordan, at your service," He said, smiling broadly as he mimicked her formal tone. He spoke with a vague New Zealand accent which she found very appealing. In fact, she was so overcome by his manner and his appearance that she found herself lost for words. She had to say something, quick!

"So, uh… you're from the Southern Hemisphere, right? What's it like with it being all sunny at Christmas?" Oh my God. Did I just say that?! What is wrong with you, Hermi?

If Blaise thought her question was strange he hid it remarkably well and didn't skip a beat before he answered.

"It's cool. Last time I was there I made my parents do the whole stereotypical thing… it could've been right off of Neighbours. We surfed… I was really into that. Oh, and we held a big barbeque on the beach. Some of my friends and I had a band together back then, so we did a set on the sand."

Hermione was impressed.

"Wow! Here it's all with the snow and the rain and the cold... yours sounds way better."

"I'll have to take you there sometime... it kicks."

"I may well hold you to that," she replied, flashing him a grin. She was definitely interested.

"Alright, Blaise?" said Lee, cutting in. He still thought of Hermione as 'his' and didn't like to see this young upstart flirting with her. Blaise nodded apologetically in acknowledgement.

"Sorry, I'll get back to the story. So, as I was saying... I found Parvati. She was in pretty bad shape. I picked her up, brought her back here and kept her with me that night. When she woke up, I asked her what had happened. She couldn't remember a thing. Well, when it turned out a few weeks later that she was pregnant, the first thing she thought was that it was my baby. That's a load of bullshit, I never touched her. But I can see why she thought I might have done. She came to me and told me the whole story about not being allowed an abortion. I finally convinced her I'd had nothing to do with it and I promised to help her. We decided we'd pretend the baby was mine, just to get her parents off of her back. I guess that's why she told the same story to you."

Hermione nodded. "I see. But... why are you telling me this?"

"We have a plan. Lee feels terrible that this happened at one of his shindigs, and like I told you, I promised to help her. She can't possibly survive as a single parent without more cash. So... we need to get some."

"And... where exactly do I come into this?" Hermione asked Lee suspiciously. "If you think I am going to star in any more of your low-down, disgusting, despicable, revolting films, then-"

"I can assure you, babe, that if I were going to make any more footage of that sort, then it would be for my viewing pleasure, and my viewing pleasure only."

"Which is so reassuring."

"Look, I don't quite know how you're going to help yet. But you agreed to be part of my business for this term, and if I need your help, I have to know that you'll give it."

"Sure. I'll help. And..." she looked at Blaise, "I'm glad you're not the cheating love-rat I thought you were. I have to go now."

Smiling, she left the room.

*

Hermione pinned the last of her posters onto the wall and grinned. After another long discussion with Cho, she had started to make real headway with her Head Girl campaign. As well as getting some fabulous publicity shots done, she had decided how to fulfil the first part of the requirements – to show that she was aware of the importance and benefits of an extra – curricular activity. Her idea was original, daring and fashionable – it was bound to be a success. Besides, didn't every teenage girl dream of being a Cheerleader?

*

"Ginny? Ginny, wait up!" Harry called. The diminutive girl turned around to see a flushed Harry who had been jogging after her for some time.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"Look, I - er... well..."

"Spit it out, will you?"

"That night at the party, when you were, y'know, and we, y'know, and it was all very confusing and strange? Well, I wanted to say that I never, ever, ever want to hurt you or be mean to you or take advantage of you and I am so, so ashamed of myself and you're younger than me and you were probably a virgin and if Ron ever found out he'd kick my - well he'd try to kick my arse and I feel like such a rat and a coward and I never meant to be unfaithful to Cho and I was drunk and so were you and it was the biggest mistake of my life and I haven't been able to sleep for thinking about it and if you can find it in your heart to accept my sincerest and deepest apologies then I would be eternally grateful and I'd love you forever but of course not in a romantic kind of way-"

"Harry... " Ginny cut in, looking very amused. "I know this may be a new experience for you but I can assure you that it was not the first time I have got very drunk and slept with somebody I shouldn't have."

Harry's eyes almost fell out of his head in shock.

"And yes, I will find it in my heart to accept your deepest and sincerest apologies but only on the condition that you find it in your heart to stop being such a fucking pussy!"

Dean, who was nearby, was looking at Harry with sympathy and Ginny with extreme admiration.

"Now, I think the person you should really be apologising to is Cho, because one, you cheated on her royally, and two, if your performance with her is anything near as bad as it was with me, then you have a lot to be sorry for."

Harry chose that moment to leave, trying to fight back tears and wishing that Ginny had been a lot drunker.

*

Hannah squeezed her fat bottom into the tiny gym skirt that had been supplied as sports kit. Her upper half was already bulging out of a sleeveless, belly-revealing T-shirt. Her short blonde hair was scraped back into a greasy and unflattering ponytail that made her pudgy face look rounder and shinier than ever. Tryouts for Hermione's cheerleading team were this afternoon. Hannah was sure that if she got a place, everyone would like and respect her. Picking up her pom-poms, she looked at herself one last time in the mirror.

"You can do it," she told herself. "You can show them all that you've got talent."

Suddenly her confident facade slipped and her chins started to wobble. "Why don't they ever see that? Why are they always so mean to me? I always try to be nice!" A solitary tear slid over her red cheek.

"No, wait," she told herself firmly. "Mummy always says how lovely I look when I dance. She always tells me I'm pretty. Maybe I should listen to her instead of giving in to peer pressure. Who says you have to be thin, anyway?" She wiped her bulbous nose vigorously with a lacy handkerchief. "I am Hannah Abbot. I am beautiful. I am talented. I can dance. I am cool. I am a sorted sista. A laid-back hippy chick." It seemed that reading all those girly magazines had paid off. She actually started to feel good about herself.

Now, there was just time for one more cream puff, for good luck. She delved hungrily into the bakery box that was delivered to her door every day by owl. She picked out a sticky, sugary, cream-filled pastry and began to eat.

*

The Great Hall was full of the sound of 1143 students eating, gossiping and generally relaxing in the middle of a day's lessons. Ron pushed open the heavy doors and strutted in, feeling on top of the world. He had just blown his entire birthday savings on a new outfit he felt sure would attract Alicia's attention. Ah, there was his blonde goddess now. Sitting at the head of the Gryffindor table with her friends, the long-legged, slim, highly attractive girl was giggling as she sipped milkshake through a curly straw. She's perfect! Ron gazed at her raptly as she shook her mane of straight, honey blonde hair over one shoulder. She really was exquisitely beautiful... she reminded him of Fleur in a lot of ways.

Ron took one last look at his new clothes. In his opinion, he had chosen an eclectic ensemble comprised of garments from such stores as Knutworld, Everything's a Knut, KnutStretcher, Knutland and Crazy Meg's Knut Bin. He prided himself on having spent wisely and he'd even had enough money left to buy some cologne. Despite some unfavourable comments, such as "What is that, Eau de Yak Urine?" from Blaise, he was confident that he smelt divine and was, in fact, a walking aphrodisiac.

Unfortunately, it didn't seem like Alicia and friends agreed.

"Wow..." Katie Bell said as Ron sashayed past, "I didn't know K-Mart Couture had opened a new boutique in Hogsmeade!"

"Actually, I got these in Knutworld. Much cheaper, you know," Ron informed her, not cottoning on to the fact that she had just insulted him.

"Gee... are you telling me that I went and spent £380 on these Roberto Cavalli sandals when I could have got some just like yours from there for only one knut?" asked Hermione, eyeing the plastic-y orange footwear he had teamed with a pair of thick argyle socks.

"For the thrifty yet fashion-conscious male, there's no better place to shop," said Ron, proudly.

"I think the shades add a touch of class," added Cho. Ron was sporting these essential accessories on his head.

"Ah! Now, these were a particularly good bargain. Have you heard of Crazy Meg's Knut Bin?"

'Crazy Meg' was an old witch and the proprietor of a small charity shop in the backstreets of Hogsmeade. It sold several dubious second-hand items.

"Well, that's where I found these beauties. Only half a knut, and so stylish!" He was obviously choosing to ignore the fact that they said 'Gringotts Bank - for all your financial needs' on the side and had probably been free in the first place.

Taking a deep breath, Ron decided it was time to approach his muse, his enchantress. Now... how to make a good impression?

"Are you a parking ticket?" he asked, putting on his sexiest smile, "'Cause you've got 'fine' written all over you!" He raised his eyebrow suggestively. It was just as well that Alicia was not sipping her milkshake at that moment because it would have caused one of those embarrassing situations where you laugh so hard it comes out of your nose. Fortunately she managed to control herself.

"Why thank-you, Ronald," she said dryly, looking up at him. "Are you Darren Day? Because you have 'I am a sleazy bastard who doesn't stand a chance with beautiful women but I still try my hardest to get them into bed with me using my sleazy bastard chat-up lines' written all over you."

Ron looked extremely crestfallen. Suddenly the new polyester 'Rugrats' T-shirt and baggy orange shorts seemed mightily inadequate. But... at least she said 'thankyou.' It was probably worth trying one last time...

"I may not be Fred Flintstone..." he said cautiously, ready to retreat at any sign of violent advance, "But I'm guaranteed to make your bed rock!"

There was no violent advance, just four girls who were reeling in silent disbelief. Even Lee, who was sitting next to Hermione, wouldn't have sunk to such a level.

"Don't you get it? See, the Flintstones live in a place called 'bedrock' and I was making a flirty joke by implying that if you slept with me I would have incredible sexual prowess, and-"

Katie 'accidentally' brought her elbow back very sharply into Ron's groin.

"Whoops," she said, taking a small bow as she received a standing ovation from all those present. Ron staggered away whimpering. Better luck next time, eh?

*

"Okay people, let's see what you can do." Hermione's clear voice silenced the chatter in the gymnasium. There was an excellent turnout - it seemed even some of the girls who had scorned the idea of Cheerleading at first had changed their minds and decided to have a go. And... my God! Half the Quidditch team are here! This was working better than she could have hoped. Alicia, Angelina and Katie had all turned up, looking stunning in the purple tops and miniskirts that constituted Hogwarts' Sports Kit. They would have no problem getting onto the team, being slim, strong and athletic as well as pretty and popular. Time to get started. Hermione could not repress a smirk as she spied Hannah and Susan psyching themselves up in the corner where they stood alone.

"Alright! I'm gonna call your names and then you come up here and dance, or sing, or cheer, or whatever. And then... I pick you or I send you away. I'm looking for a squad of 12. You got that?" There was a general reply in the affirmative. "Okay!" She smiled and settled back into her chair.

"First up... looks like it's Abbot, Hannah!" The enormous girl shuffled forward looking anxious. "Do you have any particular music prepared?"

"Yes," Hannah said, fishing out an old cassette tape, "here."

Hermione put the tape into the player and hushed silence fell over the crowd. This silence was broken when Hannah farted loudly.

"Well, that was revolting," Hermione remarked. "Please, control yourself."

"Sorry," said Hannah, her cheeks flushing crimson, "It happens when I'm nervous."

For the second time, the room fell quiet. Then the opening strains of 'Hit me Baby One More Time" blared out. At first it looked like Hannah was having a seizure. Then everyone realised she was trying to dance. After a full minute of sweaty hip gyrating and tuneless singing, Hermione decided enough was enough.

"Okay, I think we've seen all that's necessary from you," and quite a bit more, Hermione thought, eyeing the Hufflepuff's hairy legs and heaving bosom with evident disgust. "We'll get back to you."

Hannah looked ready to burst with pride as she walked back over to where Susan was cheering enthusiastically. "Did you hear that? They're going to get back to me!"

Fortunately the next few efforts were far less stomach churning. There was the girl who looked very promising until she did the splits in the air minus her knickers (one for the squad if she agreed to rectify this small problem,) a slightly uncoordinated dance routine and then some wobbly gymnastics before it was Bell, Katie's turn.

With her short, fiery hair flicked out behind her ears and her uniform neat and flattering, Katie was a definite for the team from the start. Her Quidditch skills translated perfectly into Cheerleading and her movements were precise, agile and well-executed. There was a round of appreciative applause when she was finished.

"That was great!" said Hermione, glad that her decision was obviously backed by all the others present. "You're on the team."

Katie grinned at Hermione and went back to join her friends, looking satisfied.

"Next we have... Bones, Susan." The tall and gangly Ravenclaw stepped forward. Her uniform looked to be several sizes too big, hanging limply from her non-existent hips and sagging where her bust should have been. Her legs were so thin that she looked like she would break if asked to perform any physical task too arduous. It was with some trepidation that Hermione even allowed her to audition. She felt it would be somehow kinder to tell the girl she hadn't got a chance in hell before she completely humiliated herself. But... hey. Who cared? With her rank, mousy hair pulled into two long plaits, her thick glasses, braces, bushy eyebrows and her terrible case of acne (Hermione's memory forced her to sympathise briefly with the last point) it was clear that this was going to be entertaining. It was. Susan made a vague effort to jerk her stiff limbs in time to the strange guitar music she had chosen. Every so often there were peculiar electronic noises and whenever they occurred she froze still for a moment in whatever position she was occupying. When she started playing her nostril-flute, Hermione intervened.

"THANKYOU, Susan. That was certainly very... interesting. NEXT!" Susan shuffled away.

There were a few more girls following Susan, the most notable performances being a 3rd year's 'modern interpretative dance' and some fearsome martial arts from a dangerous looking first year who couldn't speak a word of English. The latter was awarded a place on the squad, mainly because Hermione was too scared to send her away.

At that moment, Cho waltzed in looking chic and stylish in her kit. It was a generally acknowledged fact that as head girl, she would be accepted onto the team without question.

"Cho! Love the skirt. Come sit with me and Katie and help us pick people." Hermione called, patting the empty seat beside her. She joined them and began conversing quietly about who would make up the rest of the squad.

For the next hour, every girl in the gym tried their best to win one of the coveted places. Rather predictably the other two of the School's best female Quidditch players walked onto the team, folding themselves gracefully into their seats behind the judging desk. A surprise latecomer was Pansy, who appeared with Draco in tow. She marched up to the desk looking determined and very, very pretty.

"Now, I'm not going to degrade myself by getting all hot and sweaty," she lisped. "I don't need to prove that I deserve a place on this team. I know I may not be the easiest person to get along with," she added, smiling magnanimously, "but I'm very, very pretty, and I'm light and thin and cute and rich and I'll buy you all uniforms, well, Draco will, and I know you won't regret it so I'll just sit down here next to you, Angelina, and we don't need to say anything else, do we? Draco, you may leave." Hermione looked at her in silence. Much as it went against all of her principles, she had to admit that everything the little blonde girl had said was true. She would make an excellent 'top', as being so light she would be easy to throw and catch.

"Fine," conceded Hermione, "But first I want to make one thing clear. I am the captain of this team. It's on my approval that you have your place, and it'll be on my approval that you have it taken away if you give me so much as one reason why I should kick you out. Cheerleading takes discipline and hard work. If you don't put in the effort then you'll be out of here faster than you can say 'spirit stick'. Do you understand?"

"Yes," said Pansy sounding very meek. Her blue eyes were wide and she looked the picture of innocence as she stared up at Hermione, who was almost a foot taller than her. Hermione felt her heart melt involuntarily. Then she remembered that she was getting all gooey over the same super-bitch who had ripped her Christian Dior bikini, openly criticised her Pantomime performance and wore steel-toed Gladrags boots. But then... she thought, she was still cute.

Perhaps the biggest surprise of the afternoon was the last member of the team. The squad was almost full after Padma, Lavender and Mandy arrived, and almost everyone had been and gone. However, one space behind the desk was left empty. Just when Hermione was starting to lose hope, the door banged open and a sodden Ginny walked in. Her flaming hair hung in damp spirals over her shoulders and her eyeliner had smudged from the rain. Just as Pansy had done, she marched up to the desk and stared at Hermione.

"I want to be a Cheerleader," she said, simply.

"Um, that's nice and all, but... we need to check out your skills first," said Hermione a little haughtily. She was more than a little taken aback by this admission. She really hadn't had Ginny down as the cheering type. But they were getting desperate. She secretly prayed that Ginny would show some exceptional talent so they could all just go. She was not disappointed.

"You want to see skills?" said Ginny, pulling her hair up into a scruffy ponytail and removing her shoes. "I'll show you skills." She was clearly not in the mood to be messed with. Taking a deep breath, she raised her arms, straightened her feet and then pulled off the most immaculate double back handspring that anyone present had ever seen. "Now can I join the pom-pom club?" she asked.

Hermione, who was suddenly very happy, nodded mutely. This was Hogwarts' first Cheerleading Squad... her Cheerleading Squad... and they were going to be good.

*

Harry swerved sharply around the golden goalpost, screeching to a halt in mid-air and then shooting suddenly upwards. A glint of gold flashed past his left ear and he chased it determinedly. Fifty feet below, he could see Cho and the rest of the Hogwarts Team grinning at him. This firmed his resolve, and it was not long before the golden ball with silvery wings was clasped firmly in his hand.

"Way to go, Harry!" Angelina called as he touched down. "That was great. Now, we're all set for our first match?"

Six voices responded enthusiastically in the affirmative. Spring was the best time for Quidditch, the ground being hard and the breeze crisp, clean and not too strong.

At the beginning of the year, Professor Dumbledore had made an exciting announcement about Quidditch. For the first time in 43 years, an inter-school Championship had been set up. Teams from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons would be arriving in a fortnight, and an air of great excitement was building amongst the students.

A school team had been picked after extensive and competitive trials, and the players - Harry, Cho, Fred, George, Angelina, Alicia and Katie - were the cream of the Hogwarts crop, the strongest side the School had had in years. In addition to this, their training regime had made sure they were all in top condition.

"Now, we'll be playing Durmstrang first, so I need you to start thinking tactics," Angelina instructed. As both the eldest and most experienced player on the team, she had been elected as captain and so far was flourishing in the role. "Remember, they may have got Krum, but I don't want you going out there ready to lose. We know we're the best team around - we've just got to act like it, play like it and prove it. I'll see you back here tonight for evening practise. That was a good session, well done all of you."

Shouldering their broomsticks, the team headed for the showers.

*

Ginny clutched her broken umbrella and peered through the pouring rain and thick mist that was blowing violently across the Quidditch Pitch. At this distance it was almost impossible to see the players, let alone distinguish one from another. This was the fifth time this week she had come out to watch the School Squad practise, and her plan didn't seem to be working at all. There was no way he would notice her, not if he couldn't even see her. Besides, she was starting to get the feeling that being a tagalong wasn't the best approach. It didn't suit her and it didn't appeal to him. She was an individual - she had a unique and fiery temperament that wasn't accustomed to the role of drippy groupie. She began to descend the stairs and walked away from the empty stands. It was time for a change of tactics.

*

How can I impress her? Ron wondered. The fire in the common room was burning low, and seemed very sombre to the boy who was sitting in front of it disconsolately and alone. How can I make her like me?

Everyone knew that no guy stood a chance with Alicia, Dean had told him so. But she had plenty of male friends! He had often spotted her in the company of Blaise and Draco. Yes, they were tall and good-looking and clever and witty, but they were only the same age as he was. Even though she'd never shown any kind of romantic interest in them that he knew of, she never insulted them. She never laughed at them with her friends. What made him so different? Why did everyone seem to think it was so hilarious that he liked her in that way?

He'd tried to be mature and show her his sensitive side after the chat-ups didn't go as planned. The moonlit serenade that came as a result had been met with nothing but disgruntled complaints about disruption of beauty sleep and a bucket full of icy water cascading onto him from her balcony. He was at a loss.

His thoughts were interrupted when the door to the girls' dormitory opened and two of Hogwarts' most attractive females emerged looking very secretive about something. Their arms were linked and they were whispering to one another. He pushed himself deeper into the high-backed chair he was occupying so as not to be spotted. Alicia and Hermione were both in dresses and heels, and were obviously sneaking out somewhere. It was Saturday night, and most of the 'in-crowd' from the sixth year and above could be found in Hogsmeade. The village had developed an active clubbing scene over the last few years and was enjoying the extra revenue pouring in from students keen to have a good time away from the eyes of the teachers.

The girls slipped out quietly and the Fat Lady closed disapprovingly behind them. Ron was about to return to silent reverie when an idea struck him. Her dorm was empty! He could sneak in and have a look around... find out what she liked, maybe discover a way to make a good impression! He began to climb the stairs up to the dormitory as quietly as he could, still admiring his own genius.

*

Ron pushed open the door to Alicia's room. It creaked loudly and he flinched, praying nobody would wake up and discover him. Because she was an 8th year, she was allowed a room all to herself. They were only small dorms, but they were private. They were much envied by all of the younger students who still had to share with their classmates.

She certainly seemed to have fitted a lot of stuff into a small room. Unknown to Ron, this was the result of a space shifting charm that Hermione had learnt especially for that purpose. The walls were covered with photos of her and her friends... holidays and shopping trips, skiing, diving, dancing, clubbing... she really was out of his league.

In the centre of the room was a double bed with a tasteful quilt and lots of cushions. There was a large desk where she did her schoolwork and on top of this was a CD player and a wide and varied selection of music. This would be useful - he could drop some names into conversation next time he spoke to her. She also had a TV, video and... what was this? A mini-fridge! The small red object of desire was tucked down by the bed. A quick examination of its contents yielded strawberries and champagne as well as some ice cubes. Nice! Thought Ron, dreaming of the day when he would be invited to partake of them. But... I hope she's not an alcoholic!

Ron was very confused, especially when he looked under the bed and found the most prolific collection of Swedish pornography he had ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on. She did have a boyfriend! She must be very liberal to allow him to keep his stash of 'Playboy' here... and put up posters of female celebrities on her walls. Maybe one day she'd let him move in...

He also rummaged in her drawers and wardrobe. These were mainly full of expensive designer clothing but there were some surprises... some extremely kinky underwear and a squidgy blue thing which he couldn't work out the purpose for. Maybe Dean would know. He'd ask him, later.

*

"You looked in her fuckin' room?" Dean asked in disbelief. "Fuckin' hell, mate!"

"Why? What's wrong with that?"

"First, you don't just walk into a girl's fuckin' room like that! It's against the rules. If she finds out you've been in there..." Dean made a violent gesture that caused Ron to cover himself protectively.

"Second, do you have any idea how many people have tried that and failed? Come on, what'd ya find?"

"That's what I came to ask you about. See, there was this thing, right? A blue, squidgy thing, a few inches long…kind of looked like a-"

Dean hushed Ron, a look of ecstasy on his face. "Don't - speak - to - me," he said slowly, "I'm trying to keep this mental image."

"You don't need to," said Ron, "I brought it so you could look at it."

"You WHAT? You fuckin' retard!"

"I thought you'd be pleased."

"Don't let her see you with that. Oh, please fucking God, don't let her know you nicked her di- er, hi, Angelina!"

Ron quickly stuffed the offending object into his pocket and grinned widely at the black girl who was looking at the two boys very suspiciously.

"Um, hi. I was just wondering if you'd seen Katie anywhere. No? Oh, well. Thanks, Dean."

She swept away and Ron sighed with relief.

"So... what is it then? Tell me, please!"

Dean leaned down and whispered in Ron's ear. Slowly, a smile spread over Ron's face, and it didn't disappear for the rest of the day.

*

A few days later, Ron decided it was time to speak to Alicia again. He had to make sure he was subtle - she couldn't know that he'd been in her room, especially not after what Dean had told him she would do to him if she found out.

He found her in the corridor on Wednesday morning and trotted along beside her, chattering enthusiastically. Every now and then she would throw a disparaging glance in his direction.

"So I hear you like The Strokes. Cool, aren't they?"

"Not if you think so," she replied.

"What about Less Than Jake? The White Stripes?"

"Ron, do you really like those bands?"

"Er... yes!"

"Who is the lead singer of the White Stripes?"

"Um... Billy Bob Thornton?" Ron guessed wildly.

"Guess again," she said, shaking her head in disgust.

"Er... er... oh, I know, wait a minute... it's... Salvador Dali!"

Alicia smiled slightly. Ron pressed on.

"So, you like Britney Spears a lot?"

"Oh, yeah," she said. "She's great."

"Which is your favourite song?"

"Song? Oh, I'm not really into the music."

"Right. I see," said Ron, which he didn't. He decided to change tack.

"What's your opinion of Swedish Porn?"

Alicia wheeled around and looked at him closely. Ron ran a finger under his collar which felt too tight all of a sudden. Then she answered.

"It's better than British Porn. Look, I can't believe I'm having this conversation so I'm just going to end it here before you get yourself into more trouble than you can handle, okay?"

"Okay," said Ron. She turned and began to walk away. Well, that went as well as could have been expected! He thought, cheerfully. She doesn't suspect a thing. But... hold on! He'd forgotten something.

"Alicia, wait!" She turned back to see him waving something in the air in full view of all passers by. "I forgot to give you back your dildo!"

*

The Beauxbatons carriage touched down smoothly on the lawn in front of the castle, the huge stallions tossing their heads proudly and stamping on the frosty ground. On the lake, the Durmstrang ship was already floating gently, looking imposing with the tattered sails silhouetted against the pale sky.

A procession of figures in blue streamed from the carriage and greeted the Hogwarts students who had come out to meet them. Dumbledore and Madam Maxime shook hands cordially and were soon engaged in conversation. In the distance, Hagrid could be seen puffing his way up the hill, his horribly hairy suit out in full force.

The last figure to emerge from the blue vehicle was tall and slender, and with the sun glinting on her straight sheet of blonde hair she looked positively angelic. Fleur's ladylike, meandering stroll soon became a run when she saw Alicia waiting for her, smiling widely. They embraced tightly and, as is the French custom, kissed each other on each cheek. They had gotten to know each other very well the last time the foreigner had visited and Alicia had been happily anticipating her return over the last few days. In Quidditch they may have been arch rivals, but down on the ground they were very firm friends.

Ron watched the two blonde girls as they set off across the lawn, sighing lustfully as their curtains of hair swung off into the distance. Now both of his favourite girls were here to taunt him.

Harry was standing by his side, looking nervous but excited. The first match was tomorrow and Ron knew how much it meant to his friend that they win. The tension in the air had mounted to an almost tangible level and lessons for the rest of the day were suspended after it became obvious nobody could concentrate.

That night in the common room, money was changing hands rapidly as Lee collected bets on the outcome of the tournament. As no matches had been played yet, there was no real way of telling which team would be the best.

"It's gotta be Durmstrang," said Ron, who was faithful to his idol to the last, "They've got Krum!"

"Like Charlie said once, they've got one good player. Hogwarts have seven," Harry chipped in. He wasn't speaking much, the nerves having got to him worse than everyone else. After all, he was the star seeker for the school - everyone was counting on him. A lot of people agreed with Harry that Hogwarts were the best, but the 'superstar' players like the Delacour Sisters and Krum were extremely popular too. As things stood, the number of bets on each school to win was fairly equal. Quite a few people were holding back their money until after the first match so they would have a better guess at the outcome. Lee's bag of cash was still quite light, but he had no doubt that soon it would be full and so would his pockets.

*

The crowd assembled in the stadium on the morning of the match was the largest and most excited that Hogwarts had ever seen. Bigger and more enthusiastic than they had been even for the Triwizard Tournament, it seemed that the rows of students extending back into the distance were infinite. The air was filled with the sound of screaming, cheering and whistling, with banners and scarves being waved frenetically by most people. These mostly bore slogans such as 'Durmstrang es Prima!" "Hogwarts Kick!" and "Beauxbatons sont le mieux!" but there were some more colourful efforts, including "Durmstrang are a load of ugly mingers who should all be fuckin' shot on sight," from Dean.

Lee sat in the commentary box positively glowing with joy at being appointed Chief Master of Ceremonies for the duration of the tournament. This was what he did best, and he was thoroughly looking forward to it.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, teachers and servants, oh, and Ron too, welcome to the 56th International European Schools Quidditch Tournament!"

A tremendous cheer went up. Lee tried hard not to explode with happiness.

"And today for your viewing and sporting delight we have the first match of its kind played for 43 years - HOGWARTS VERSUS DURMSTRANG!"

Lee waited again for the noise to die down before continuing.

"Playing for Durmstrang, in order of Keeper, Beater, Beater, Chaser, Chaser, Chaser, Seeker, I give you-"

He looked closely at the small piece of paper on which he had scribbled down the foreign names. Shit... I should've used a better pen, he cursed as he realised that after being caught in the rain the writing had run in several places. Oh well... nobody'll notice! He dismissed this problem as a small inconvenience and did his best anyway.

"Fishfaceski! Blubberisevitch! Von Carthorse! Fattynov! El Skankio! Chestykoff! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand... Viktor Krum!"

The seven players shot out onto the pitch with tremendous speed, circling menacingly in their dark green robes.

Their star player had 'grown into his looks' as Hermione put it, after he brushed arrogantly past her in the corridor, shoulder length black hair flouncing behind him. After the terrible nasal damage he'd suffered at the Quidditch World Cup, he'd obviously decided if he was going to have plastic surgery then he was going to have it properly. An entire facial re-sculpture had left him looking more like a tanned Spanish model than a disgruntled Bulgarian sportsman. As soon as he appeared onto the pitch, the sea of green-clad supporters in the crowd went wild. He had lost none of his precocious skill, swooping and diving as he showed off to his fans.

Harry watched all this from where he stood in the tunnel at the Hogwarts end of the pitch. He was eagerly anticipating his first chance to play against the 'world's greatest seeker' (according to Quidditch Monthly no. 245) but was also feeling very intimidated. He knew that as Krum's rival he wouldn't be very popular on the pitch.

As Lee started his banter again, Angelina pulled all the team together for one last word of encouragement.

"You know we're ready. You know how good we are. And you know just how sore their sorry asses are going to be once we've finished whipping them. So let's go!" Everyone mounted their brooms looking grim and determined. All of them had the light of challenge burning in their eyes. "Oh, and Harry?" the captain had time to call before they kicked off, "Krum might have been good once, but now he's nothing more than a pretty boy celebrity. You have something he doesn't. Show him what that is and we'll have no problem." She winked at him and then pushed off of the hard ground, zooming away in a flash of ebony hair.

"And representing Hogwarts for the first time in international competition, I give you... Chang! Cor, lookin' good as always, Cho...Weasley! Weasley! Can't tell 'em apart, don't need to, both crackin' geezers...Spinnet! Johnson! Bell! There goes a nice pair o' legs, pair o' legs, pair o' legs! Three lovelier ladies were never seen, except for Hermione of course..."

Down in the crowd, the beautiful brunette's smile got a little bit wider as she heard her friend's unprompted compliment. Pansy, sitting a few rows back, scowled horribly and threw some popcorn at her sometimes-arch enemy.

"Last and least, only joking my son, the team wouldn't be complete without 'im, our very own homegrown hero, Haaaaaaaary Pottaaaaaah! Alright, yer little git?" McGonagall looked disapproving but decided she was too caught up in the moment to care.

In their new robes, which were flattering and resplendent in a deep and attractive purple, the 'magnificent seven' had never looked better. They swept onto the pitch in a carefully timed and precise arc to clamorous applause.

"And what's this?" Lee yelled into the microphone, "Madam Hooch is gettin' her balls out! Haha, calm down, Nev..."

In no time at all the players were in position and the balls had been released. The snitch glimmered between Harry and Krum for a golden moment before it disappeared in a flutter of silver wings. The shrill whistle blew and the players shot into motion.

For the first half-hour, play was fast, unrelenting and furious. Cho was flourishing in her newfound job as Keeper. After Harry stole the position she'd coveted, she decided that instead of giving up she'd try for another role instead. Being light and nimble meant she could move very fast and had proven herself worthy already by pulling off some miraculous saves.

Fred and George were born to be beaters and they whacked the iron balls hard, fast and with deadly accuracy. Each time the Bulgarian chasers got hold of the red leather scoring ball, a well-placed Bludger would make them drop it and roll over in pain.

The three chasers seemed to inhabit a world of their own. Their impenetrable triad of pure talent was a force to be reckoned with and there was no way their Bulgarian counterparts could compete. It could be said that they were the centre of the team, the key players... certainly without them they would have had a very hard time indeed. They seemed to be able to read each others thoughts as they soared in faultless formation above the roaring crowds. The Quaffle passed between them with such speed that it was impossible to tell who had possession. They scored goal after goal until the score stood at 120 - 30. Lee was running out of praiseworthy adjectives to describe the beauty of their gameplay... and their figures.

Harry was flitting from one end of the pitch to the other as fast as his Firebolt would take him, always keeping his eyes tuned, focused and trained on the air below him for the slightest glimpse of the snitch or anything that resembled it.

He had to keep reminding himself not to look at Krum. The words Angelina had spoken were whizzing around his head. Was Krum just a useless pretty boy? What had happened to him? At first, Harry couldn't see any difference in the way his rival was playing. His flight was as natural and graceful as ever, his daring dives and swoops just as breathtaking. Or were they? After watching him for a while, Harry decided something was missing from his play. It was not very noticeable, certainly not to anyone on the ground. But Harry was an experienced player now, and he could clearly remember how Krum had looked two years ago through the pair of Omnioculars that he still owned. There had been a glint in his eye that plainly stated his ambition, his drive, his pure lust for winning at the sport that he loved and that had made him famous. Now that glint was gone, replaced by something else... a far off vanity that distanced him from the game by miles. It was as though he thought this trifling little match was beneath him. He played for his country now... what use was a school tournament, where your adversaries were mere children?

Harry knew he'd found Krum's weakness and suddenly felt filled with a strength and courage like he'd never felt before. He may only be a child, but he was a child who could play a mean game of Quidditch. Harry had to think of a way to turn Krum's disaffected attitude against him. He had to pull something so daring, so arrogant, that Krum couldn't possibly expect it... and he knew just how to do it.

Waving his hand in the air in the way they had agreed before the match, Harry signalled for Time Out. Angelina spotted him straight away and flagged the rest of the team down onto the ground.

"I was just about to do that myself," said the captain. "Chasers, talk to me." She formed a huddle with Katie and Alicia and began discussing tactics. Fred and George took the opportunity to rest their aching arms and have a quick sip of drink. Harry took his chances and slipped away into the crowd.

"Hermione?" Harry tapped her on the shoulder. She turned round and listened while he explained his scheme and why he needed her assistance. Her eyes lit up and she followed him back to the changing rooms where there was no chance of them being seen.

Climbing back onto his broomstick, Harry kicked off and rocketed away. Now all he had to do was wait for the right moment, and pray everything went right.

"And after 96 minutes, the Hogwarts chasers are wiping the floor with their opponents," cried Lee, "they must be running out of moves to show us! Come on, Harry... we need a capture and we need it fast!"

When Lee said this he had no idea just how fast the seeker in question would fulfil his hopes.

Almost 100 feet above, Harry was circling, gripping his broom handle determinedly. The air was thin up here and the roar of the crowd nothing but a faint hum. His stomach was tying itself in knots. Nobody in his knowledge in the whole history of Quidditch had ever attempted what he was about to try, at least not from this extreme a height.

Krum was tailing Harry bemusedly. Vot vas ze Potter boy doing all ze vay up here? He decided he should keep watching him closely. Maybe he had seen ze sneetch. Viktor didn't see what all the fuss was about with Harry. From what he'd seen today, the seeker was by far the weakest member of the team. He had been very impressed by the others, especially the chasers. He would have to talk to them later... give them some tips. But unbeknownst to Krum, Harry was about to prove just what it was about him that made him so special.

Feigning intense concentration, Harry suddenly jerked his head towards the ground as though he had spotted something of the utmost importance, in this case the Snitch. Viktor picked up on this instantly and was by his side in seconds.

Come on, you stupid Bulgarian bastard, Harry thought fiercely, If you're going to follow me, then you're going to follow me all the way. And turning his broom downwards he dipped into a sickeningly steep dive.

It was as though somebody had pressed 'pause' on a VCR. Everyone stopped to watch, falling silent as the two tiny coloured specks in the sky plummeted towards the ground.

Harry was almost blinded by the speed of the wind blowing into his face. His velocity was increasing steadily and for the first time since this idea had struck him he wondered if it would work without him being grievously injured in the process.

By the time Viktor realised that Harry had not, in fact, seen the snitch, and that he was about to become the victim of perhaps the most impressive Wronski Feint in history, it was far too late to pull out. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed something extraordinary happening. Harry was climbing on top of his broomstick. Still clinging to it with his hands, he was placing his feet along the shaft. At the speed they were travelling the air-resistance must have been immense but Harry held on grimly, knowing that if he let go his life would certainly end in a splattered mess.

At twenty feet above the ground, Viktor pulled his broom up as hard as he could but the motion was not forceful or quick enough to save him. His broomstick took the brunt of the impact and snapped instantly. The next thing to break was Viktor's leg as his body hit the grass with horrifying force. He lay in a crumpled heap on the ground, but nobody was watching him. All eyes were on Harry, who at 10 feet above the ground was getting ready to make a leap of faith. Letting go of his broom handle, he jumped with as much force as he could muster, vertically into the air. He figured that it was only the same as jumping up and down in a plummeting lift so that maybe you wouldn't be on the floor when it landed, only this time you had a better chance of survival.

He was right. His broomstick hit the ground and shattered just as Viktor's had done. Harry landed soon after it, but bent his legs and rolled to absorb the impact. While medi-wizards rushed onto the field to save Viktor, Harry stood up shakily and managed to execute a twirly bow before collapsing elatedly to the sound of the most tumultuous applause he had ever heard in his life.

After that most spectacular of performances there really was no question as to who would win the match. Durmstrang had to replace Viktor with a small dark-haired boy who looked so terrified of Harry he hardly dared move for the rest of the match. This left the way open for the Hogwarts Seeker to make a swift and efficient capture only moments after he came back onto the pitch.

*

That night while the celebrations were getting underway, Angelina finally asked the question Harry knew would be coming at some point.

"Er... I hate to bring this up when you're still enjoying your euphoria and all, but... how the hell are you going to play Beauxbatons without your Firebolt? I mean, you were okay for the last few seconds of today's match but you didn't have any competition. You can't go a whole match against Gabrielle Delacour on a shitty school broom. Not that I don't think it was worth it for a front page in Quidditch Monthly." She beamed.

"Ah. Well actually I thought of that in advance," Harry told her, enjoying the effect this statement had.

"You did? You really are amazing me today."

"Thankyou. Anyway, I knew that Viktor would never fall for the feint if he knew I'd changed brooms, so during time-out I went to Hermione and asked if she could help me. Of course she could, she's the best magician in the school. All it took was a simple bit of transfiguration and one of the worst brooms in the school looked like a Firebolt. Because it's so slow and ricketty, it wasn't going as fast as Viktor's during the dive, which was a real help. Worked like a charm, if you'll excuse the pun. The real broom is safely tucked away in my dorm."

Harry grinned with the smug satisfaction only known to those whose plans have all gone perfectly. "Simple, really."

*

The second Quidditch match was drawn as Beauxbatons vs. Durmstrang. Once again the stadium was packed with students, all bedecked in their team colours. Many Hogwarts students were keen to size up the opposition for the final – nobody had seen Beauxbatons play before and their new seeker, Gabrielle Delacour, was gaining a reputation in international Quidditch circles as 'one to watch.'

After Durmstrang's loss to Hogwarts and the untimely retirement of their star player owing to grievous bodily harm, the Bulgarian team were severely demoralised. Their heads were hung low as they came onto the pitch and their lineup sounded rather unimpressive without the name "Viiiiiiktaaah Kruuuuum!" announced triumphantly at the end.

Beauxbatons looked to be in far better shape. They zoomed onto the pitch with confidence and panache, their powder blue robes streaming behind them as the Spring breeze made the flags around the pitch flutter jauntily. Gabrielle Delacour was 15 years old, light, nimble and just as pretty as her older sister. Fleur was also on the team, as one of the chasers. Though they were both fairly tall, they moved with grace and agility which marked them out from all the other players. Harry, in the stands, watched Gabrielle with interest and admiration. She was very beautiful… and a really good Seeker, too. He felt a strong jolt of excitement as he realised he would be playing opposite her in a few days time.

Unfortunately for those expecting an exciting match, play was over before it had really begun. Gabrielle made a stunning capture in only seven minutes, which still left the Beauxbatons chasers enough time to score eighty points against the Durmstrang keeper, an ugly lummox who seemed too upset to even attempt stopping the goals.

Despite the superb performance by the Beauxbatons team, nobody felt they were a match for Hogwarts. Angelina, Alicia and Katie had been elevated to celebrity status and couldn't go anywhere without eager first and second years clamouring for their attention. Harry, too, was enjoying the appreciative whistles and cheers which followed him everywhere.

Lee was almost overwhelmed by the volume of bets he was receiving. 10 galleons on Hogwarts to win… 15 galleons on Hogwarts to win… 400 galleons on Hogwarts to win (Draco evidently felt optimistic)… The only people willing to back Beauxbatons were Gabrielle Delacour and, inexplicably, Professor Trelawney.

*

The money bag that Lee was holding was extremely heavy, and getting moreso by the minute. Everyone was sure the home team would win just as easily over Beauxbatons as they had over Durmstrang. The students were very loyal to their school at most times anyway, but throw patriotism and Quidditch into the equation and they became almost rabidly enthusiastic.

The young entrepreneur turned to Blaise, who was doing some rapid and scribbly calculations on a spare bit of paper and looking slightly worried.

"Uh… Lee?"

"Yes, my lad. What seems to be the problem?"

"Y'know… with Hogwarts being the obvious favourite to win, far more people are betting on them than on Beauxbatons. It's completely uneven."

"So?"

"So, my dreadlocked companion, if Hogwarts do win then at the odds you're offering, we're going to owe a lot of people a lot of money. We can't possibly afford it."

"Ah," said Lee quietly, "but what if they don't win?"

"Look, I'm sorry to disappoint you but it's just not going to happen. Our team's too good… Beauxbatons don't stand a chance. We'd better close down for tonight before you get us into a deeper mess than we're already in."

"Listen, son. I've got it covered, okay? Don't worry yer little self about it."

"Please would you stop with the paternal act? I'm only two years your junior, y'know."

"Sorry, my boy. Oops, I mean… my Blaise. I mean…Blaise."

Blaise lowered his reading glasses and looked at Lee, hard.

"As your financial advisor, I really think I ought to be let in on the whole of your little 'scheme'. If it goes wrong, (and I urge you to remember the 'Spring Mistletoe – because every season is kissing season' sale last week which was a complete disaster,) I am going to be in the shit as much as you are. Now spill."

"I'm sorry, but that is a private matter."

"Tell me or I'll put all of your profits towards Hannah Abbot's 'Curvy Girlz Cheerleading Campaign'."

"Okay, okay," said Lee, looking alarmed. "Go and ask Hermione. She'll tell you all about it."

*

Blaise looked over to where Hermione was sitting. The common room phone was tucked under her ear and she was flipping through a magazine while sketching something onto a notepad. He caught a few sentences of her conversation.

"Look, Mom. Would you just – No, of course not. I told you last time, I – Yes, of course I am still a virgin... Drugs? Now who's being immature?… No, I will not drop my 'insolent attitude.' Gosh, is that the kettle boiling? I have to go now… Oh, hi Blaise."

The multi-tasking girl indicated silently that she needed a few more minutes and so he took a seat next to her. Hermione resumed attempting to converse with her mother.

"No, he's not my boyfriend…. No, I have not slept with him…. BONDAGE?! Just calm down… I promise I – would you please listen to me?"

Blaise was clearly tired of waiting. He pulled the phone away from her grasp.

"Hi, Mrs. Granger. My name's Blaise Zabini… I don't think we've met. I'm a multi gallionaire and, uh… I'm fucking your daughter. Please leave her alone so I can tie her to my bedposts and force her to smoke cannabis while favouring me sexually. Okay, bye now. It was nice speaking to you too." He replaced the receiver in the cradle and turned to face Hermione.

"Now do I have your attention?"

"Well, that's my allowance gone for the next six months." She was slightly open-mouthed. "My mom will probably disown me now. I'm disowned!"

"Oh, there there," he mocked. "She sounds like a bitch to me."

"That is so not… okay, so it is true. You're just not meant to say that stuff about other people's moms."

"What do you mean? Hey, Lee!" Blaise yelled, "Your mum's a dyke and your dad's a fag!"

"Thankyou, my friend," Lee hollered back. "I hope your family all die in a freak yachting accident!"

Blaise grinned. "See?"

Hermione just shook her head and laughed. There was a moment's silence.

"You are not fucking me."

"Maybe not right now…"

"Would you like to?"

Realising what she'd said, she covered her mouth in surprise and blushed. She was acting like some immature little girl-scout, just because he was reasonably… okay, extremely… attractive.

Though they had fallen into the habit of flirting outrageously every time they saw each other, they'd never been that forward before. She made a valiant attempt to recover her dignity and act like it was nothing.

"You know… thinking about it, I guess I owe you a 'thank you.' You just got my mom off of my back for at least a year, and that's gotta be worth something."

"What kind of 'something' did you have in mind?" He asked mischievously as his ice blue eyes struggled to maintain a look of innocence. Hermione looked at him closely, unable to hide her delight, very aware of the strong hand that was resting on her thigh.

"Well, Cannabis has never agreed with me, but…" She tailed off, and was forced to leave her suggestion there as Blaise leaned over and kissed her forcefully.

*

It was time. He had to let her know how he felt. He was in love with her! She was his goddess, his angel, his princess! Floating on what felt like a fragrant bubble of happiness, Ron made his way towards the room where he knew his blonde temptress resided. She was probably sprawled on the coverlet, eyes closed, virginal and pure, waiting for her Prince Charming to carry her away. It was every girl's fantasy – surely it must be hers? He felt confident in her desire for him.

But what if she wanted to make passionate love to him? He was pretty sure he knew what to do. "The man inserts his erect penis into the female's vagina…" He had memorised this passage from Explaining Sex to Your 5-Year-Old, a book he'd found at home during the holidays.

He stood outside Alicia's dorm. It was half past ten at night, a time by which he was sure any visiting friends should have left. However, he'd clearly been wrong about that. There was the distinct sound of two voices from behind the pink paintwork of her door. One was Alicia's. The other's sounded… muffled. And foreign.

"Oh… please… please…" Alicia moaned. Was she in trouble? Did she need rescuing from her mysterious continental assailant?

"Give it to me! Now… yes…yes…"

Give her what? What did she need so desperately? He was unsure as to whether to go in. He didn't want to make himself look a fool.

A loud, passionate and very feminine cry of absolute ecstasy issued forth from the chamber beyond. Unfortunately, Ron mistook this for a cry of pain. He burst through the door with an almighty crash, wielding the only weapon which had come to hand – a stuffed beaver which had been resting on a pillar in the corridor.

SHIT.

At least he had been right about something. Alicia was sprawled on her coverlet and her eyes were closed… but she could not have been further from virginal or pure. Her long, blonde hair was tousled but glossy as it fell in cascades over her satin pillows. She was wearing the kinkiest (and only) French underwear Ron had ever laid eyes on and still sighing with pleasure as another blonde girl who he instantly recognised as Fleur Delacour finished doing something very, very naughty underneath Alicia's camisole. It was the French girl who noticed him first.

"Alicia?" said Fleur, looking worried.

"Fucking hell, that was fantastic…"

"Alicia! Oo is zat deesgusting boy?"

"Oh baby, that was… RONALD WEASLEY, WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING IN HERE?!"

Ron was still reeling somewhere between disappointment and disbelief. His fragrant bubble of happiness had just been burst unceremoniously.

"Fleur…Alicia…Fleur….Alicia! You're lezzies!"

"OF COURSE I'M A FUCKING LESBIAN, YOU INCOMPETENT FUCKING FUCKRAG!"

Alica was yelling so loudly that the attention of the whole corridor had been attracted. Doors began to open and quite a crowd was accumulating outside.

Alicia was not done yet. Any hope Ron may have been cherishing about retreating unscathed were dispelled when she threw a glass half full of champagne at his head. It smashed right on target.

"Ow!" yelped Ron. "Are you on your period?"

"FUCK YOU!"

"You do seem to be retaining a bit of water. Are you always that fat? I mean… big? Curvaceous?" Alicia was a size 6 and prided herself on her sylphlike figure.

"A TALL, BLONDE FRENCH SUPERMODEL HAS JUST BEEN LICKING MY PUSSY! DOES THAT SAY 'MENSTRUAL' TO YOU?!"

"I can recommend some herbal tea and a warm bath…"

"THE ONLY THING I WANT RIGHT NOW IS YOUR UGLY HEAD ON A TEN FOOT FUCKING SPIKE!" Alicia screamed, her complexion flushed but still looking arrestingly beautiful. "GET OUT!"

"Remember to change your pantyliner every three to five hours!" He called helpfully as he started to leave. Alicia's rage was now beyond screaming point. Her only retaliation to this was to rip the entire mini-fridge from the wall and throw it at the offending young man with disturbing force.

"I think you've broken my leg!" Ron whimpered, as he crawled away down the corridor.

*

"I mean, really. A person does something purely by accident, that could have happened to any self respecting fellow just minding his own business, and just because by some extraordinary chance that accident happens to be interrupting a beautiful girl's lesbian love frolicks, a chap gets a mini-fridge thrown at his leg!" said an exasperated Ron who was soapboxing in the great hall from the standpoint of his wheelchair.

"I was a victim – you could be too. So join my campaign today – Stop the Stressy Menstruating Lesbians who Throw Mini Fridges! STSMLWTMF for short!"

It was perhaps foolish of Ron to expect to get away with this without incurring some sort of recrimination. It began with small and petty (though none the less painful) acts of loyalty to Alicia, such as Dean pushing Ron's wheelchair out of the window into the lake at midnight while he still happened to be occupying it.

There was a distinct lack of support for Ron's campaign. In fact, the only people who even seemed to notice were a first year (who didn't speak English and felt sorry for the 'poor crippled boy,') and the Lesbian and Gay support alliance, who sent him strongly worded hate mail by owl on a daily basis urging him to 'stop the ignorance' and to 'promote free love in a culture fuelled by hatred.'

Somebody (Ginny) obviously thought it would be very amusing to put used pantyliners in Ron's bag whenever he wasn't looking, though Alicia insisted truthfully that this had nothing to do with her. She hadn't realised quite how much power she wielded as a super-popular cheerleader with model looks. It seemed that if she took exception to a person, the whole school was quite prepared to follow suit – and they did.

Alicia's rival organisation, Campaign for Locks In dorms To Omit Ron Interrupting Sex, was a runaway success, gaining 1142 Hogwarts members in under half an hour. At first she was pleased that so many people wholeheartedly supported her cause, but as Hermione pointed out a few days later, the main motivation was probably childish amusement at wearing badges printed with her acronym.

*

"So what exactly are you and Lee up to?" asked Blaise. Hermione, who was lying in his lap in the common room, made sure nobody was listening before she answered.

"You were right when you said that Beauxbatons don't stand a chance at the moment – our team are too good. So we were thinking – what's the only way we can give them a shot at winning?"

"Sell the chasers to a Mongolian slave trader? Just joking," he added as Hermione looked at him sharply. "Besides, I don't have the addresses of any slave traders, Mongolian or otherwise."

"We have to change the team," Hermione told him. "Think about it. There are over 1000 students who have staked all they've got on Hogwarts to win. The only way Lee can get out of this without losing his entire business and personal fortune in the process is to make sure it's Beauxbatons who take the trophy. They're complete outsiders – he'll rake in the profits from everyone's losses and hardly have to pay out anything."

"Very clever in theory," said Blaise sceptically, "but how the hell are you going to get the best team we've had for... ever, to give up?"

"I have my ways," Hermione said mysteriously.

"You're not thinking bribery, are you? 'Cause… I am not getting involved in that."

"Nope. My way will mean that they leave of their own accord. Let's just say… it'll be in their best interests not to play on Saturday."

"Blackmail? Corruption?"

"Only on a minor scale."

"You know something? You are a very, very clever young lady."

*

"So, uh… Harry? Can I speak to you for a moment?" Hermione didn't give him the chance to refuse before she grabbed his arm and pulled him into an empty classroom.

"I have a proposition for you."

"Oh? What is it?"

"I want you to drop out of the Quidditch team."

"WHAT? Why?!"

"That's for me to know and… you not to know."

"Why should I? Let me tell you now, nothing you could possibly say or do could induce me to drop out. There, has that saved you the trouble?"

Hermione didn't like his tone one little bit. It smacked of insolence.

"You had better quit," she said, her voice quiet and dangerous, "or I'll tell Cho about your little… indiscretion with our dear Virginia at Draco's party. Does that convince you?"

Harry's face went a deathly shade of white.

"How – how do you know about that?"

"Oh, I've seen things you wouldn't believe," she said briskly. "Now, are you going to do this the easy way or the horribly embarrassing, hurtful and unpleasant way?"

"Er…"

"I'm waiting."

"Um…"

"CHO!" Hermione yelled. "CHO, YOU'LL NEVER GUESS-"

"Okay, okay!" Harry said quickly. "I'll drop out. I promise. Just, please… please don't…"

"There's no need to cry," she mocked, seeing his horrified and upset countenance. "All you gotta do is drop out of the team. Oh, and… read this list and memorise it. Okay?"

Harry took the small piece of paper she handed him and read it.

"Is there any point at all in me doing this stuff?" he asked, dazedly.

"Nope. That bit's just for my own personal, twisted amusement.

"I don't even know if I can trust you!" he said, exasperatedly.

"If you keep your part of the bargain, I'll keep mine," said Hermione evenly.

Harry nodded, gave her a last scared look and ran away.

*

"Well, that's one down. Six to go…" Hermione looked pleased. She was enjoying this an almost unhealthy amount.

"I congratulate you. One thing, though… how do you know Ginny won't have an attack of the conscience and tell Cho herself?"

"Um, Blaise… do you really think any self respecting girl could live with that kind of shame? Nobody likes admitting they got smashed and slept with a loser, especially not if it's Harry."

"If Harry is such a loser, why does Cho go out with him? She's popular… she could have her choice of guys."

"Cho is a little… inexperienced," said Hermione confidentially. "She lost one of the best boyfriends a girl could ask for. It can't have been great for her judgement. I guess Harry is a kind of safe option… she knows she won't get hurt that way."

They looked over at Harry who was sitting very uncomfortably next to Cho on one of the sofas by the fire. They seemed to be having a very forced, un-enjoyable conversation. In fact, as soon as Harry saw Hermione and Blaise looking at them, he panicked and tried to make a swift exit.

"Oh, Haa-rrry!" she called. He trotted over obediently, looking frightened.

"Have you memorised my list?"

"Y-yes."

"Good."

"D-do I still have to-?"

"Of course," she said, matter of factly.

"Okay. Can I go now?"

"Sure."

He almost tripped over himself in his haste to get away from her. .

"Pussy," said Hermione, eyeing the retreating ex-Quidditch star in disgust.

*

"So how did you get Fred and George to quit the team? I never thought you'd manage it," said Blaise admiringly through a mouthful of fries. "They're, like, the biggest Quidditch fanatics in the school!"

"I know," said Hermione, who was watching her companion as he devoured his 'mid-morning snack' with alarming speed. "To be honest, I wasn't sure my original plan would work. I was just going to threaten to tell Mrs. Weasley the real reason that last supply teacher left… but I decided I'd better throw in something extra as a bonus."

"Oh yeah? What was that?"

"The password to the girls' toilets with the little hole that lets you see right into Alicia's dorm. I mean, everyone loves a lesbian peepshow. Uh… except me, of course. Ha… ahaha."

"Don't worry, I believe you," reassured Blaise, who didn't in the slightest.

*

Hermione thought hard. As much as she prided herself on having all of the dirt on practically every student in the school, she was stuck. Alicia, Angelina, Katie and Cho were all pretty clean. Everyone knew Ally was a lesbian, Katie and Cho were too unadventurous to ever have done something seriously naughty, and Angelina was just… too scary to blackmail.

Hermione didn't like to admit it but she was getting herself in over her head. She had promised to try and make the whole of the Hogwarts team quit before she'd even known if it was possible. What if she couldn't do it? Lee's business would be ruined… all their hard work would have been wasted.

She looked down at the piles of paper in front of her and sighed. Head Girl applications, timetables, schoolwork, catalogues, flipcharts, graphs, marketing schemes, pages of figures and finances… she was busy. Very, very busy. What started as an uneventful term had become one of the most challenging ones of her whole school career. She had a tremendous responsibility to Lee, to Parvati… Cho had spent so much time helping with her Head Girl campaign that she couldn't give that up, either.

Oh, well.. she had to start somewhere. It was time to get organised. She started to put her scattered letters and documents into piles, paperclipping them together, filing everything away into its proper place. She was almost done when a small, glossy booklet that had been buried under a heap of faxes caught her eye.

British Cheerleading Association Catalogue Spring Season 2002, said the cover in bold lettering. Somewhere in the back of her mind a small cog started to whirr. The booklet was full of uniforms, pom-poms, sneakers… even customisable socks. She had been dying to pick out a proper outfit for her beloved cheerleading team but had put it on the back burner over recent weeks because of an immense workload in other areas.

The team had been started mainly to fulfil the first target of Cho's manifesto: to show your awareness of the importance and benefits of an extra-curricular activity. Exercise of the sport kind had never really appealed to Hermione, but she felt she had come up with an enjoyable way to get around it. Cheerleading was athletic, glamorous and fun. It kept you fit and it allowed you to socialise. Besides, she had known it would attract lots of members. Even McGonagall had been very impressed by her 'initiative and commitment.' All in all, it had been successful. But what if it could be used to her advantage in an even bigger way…?

The team was good – really good – so good that she had already considered going professional. They practised for two hours a time twice weekly and had mastered some very impressive routines. But up until now it had just been for fun, another thing to put on her list of activities.

Maybe… maybe now was the time to take the next step. Her many plans were rapidly falling into place. Would it work? She hoped so…

Opening the booklet, she began to read, already scribbling down notes at a furious pace.

*

Ron decided it was time to end the feud with Alicia. He had given up his STSMLWTMF campaign and he was sick of getting howlers screaming 'STOP THE SPREAD OF MISINFORMATION AND IGNORANCE – JOIN THE LESBIAN AND GAY SUPPORT ALLIANCE' while he was trying to eat his toast every morning. He didn't have much trouble finding her – all you had to do was look for a huge gaggle of excited first years and you could bet she'd be at the centre of them.

"Out of my way, you gaylords!" said Ron, attempting to push the rabid 11 year olds away and clear a path to reach the object of his affections. The 'Alicia Fan Club' didn't take very kindly to their idol's arch nemesis, and responded by kicking him violently while loudly mocking his poor insult.

"Ow! Ow! Alicia, make them stop!"

"Quit it, will you? He's obviously got something pitiful to say." The errant rabble fell into submissive silence and scurried away as she waved her hand dismissively.

"I didn't come here for an apology, Alicia…"

"Which is good, because I certainly didn't come here to give you one."

"I think," he said, assuming a wounded air, "that we should end our little love affair here."

"Ron… we haven't had a love affair-"

"I don't want to hear it!" Cut in the gangly ginger boy. "We could have had something really special… you can't deny the chemistry between us."

"Ronald, I'm a lesbian. Even if you were Brad Pitt, I wouldn't be interested."

"How can you dismiss heterosexuals as uninteresting when you've never even had one?" Ron asked questioningly.

Alicia looked as though she was debating whether to tell him something.

"I have," she said, flatly.

"When?" cried Ron, sounding horrified. "Who is the scoundrel who wrenched your delicate flower away at the tender age of 10?"

"I was 15, and more than a bit drunk, and anyone will tell you that Draco in the 3rd year did look very effeminate."

The boy in question happened to be passing at that moment, and seemed to object to Alicia's description.

"Hey! What's with spilling your dark secrets to Weasley?!" The blond boy exclaimed. Alicia flashed him a smile.

"Don't worry yourself, Malfoy, your masculinity remains intact. Besides, I was loving it until I realised the… thing… was real." Draco grinned in the knowledge that he was a very lucky boy and blew her a kiss before sauntering away.

Alicia turned back to Ron, who had more to get off of his chest.

"I'm glad you brought up the little matter of your sexuality," he said, patronisingly. "I know you must feel very lonely and confused sometimes. Many teenagers experience a period of 'latent sexuality' when they feel that they want to experiment with members of the same sex, and I sympathise, I really do. I have had my own fair share of difficult experiences in that area. But it hurt me that you didn't choose to confide in me! Quite frankly I think that your inability to share your feelings with someone so close to you shows a lot of immaturity on your part." He sniffed in a dignified and hurt manner.

Alicia stared.

"Firstly, Ronald, I have been out since I was eleven. I can promise you that in the eight years since, I haven't had any feelings of loneliness or confusion. See, unlike you, I have friends, and I don't have trouble with simple things like tying my own shoelaces. Secondly, I suggest that you see a counsellor about your 'difficult experiences' and sort out your own homosexual tendencies before you try and sort out mine. And thirdly," she said, looking at him like he was a piece of dirt on the floor, "I would wait until your voice has finished breaking before the next time you tell me I'm immature."

To Ron's immense shame, he felt a tear trickle down his freckly cheek. "Then I guess…" he sobbed, "It's really over this time, isn't it?"

She nodded.

He began to walk away, shoulders hunched, eyes to the floor. Alicia, who was still watching him, felt a tiny pang of guilt. Had she been perhaps the tiniest bit cruel?

Before he reached the end of the corridor, he turned back one last time.

"I don't expect you to return all of the condoms…" Then he left.

Alicia smiled.

*

"I have called this emergency meeting of the Hogwarts School Cheerleading Team to make a very important proposition," said Hermione, trying to keep her voice level and calm although inside she was quailing with fear. She knew everything was hanging in the balance.

"There are a number of reasons why in a moment I am going to ask you all to perform a small favour for me."

A ripple of curious chatter ran through the 11 girls who were assembled in front of Hermione in the gymnasium. It was the night before the match - what could possibly be so important?

"I'm sure it has not escaped your attention that Parvati Patil has recently left this school on grounds of maternity. Nobody, not even someone as capable and intelligent as me, could possibly keep up their schoolwork and look after a child. She may have been careless and she may have been stupid to think pregnancy wouldn't happen to her, but it did. And it could happen to any one of us, no matter how careful we are."

Only Alicia looked sceptical.

"So hers is a plight we all have a duty to sympathise with," said Hermione authoritatively, employing her most sincere tone of voice. "We can help her. We can do the small amount it is in our power to do and change somebody's life for the better."

"That's all very nice," said Angelina icily, "but what do we have to do?"

It was crunch time. Taking a deep breath, Hermione said it.

"I want you to cheer for the school tomorrow."

There was instant uproar, not least from the three chasers and Cho, who couldn't have looked more horrified if she'd asked them to donate their limbs. The Cheerleaders who weren't also on the Quidditch team looked excited and pleased, but were making just as much noise.

"Please," Hermione called, "listen to me!"

"Why should we?" said Angelina angrily. "You feed us some sob story about a stupid slut who should have kept her legs crossed, and then expect us to give up the chance of a lifetime to give her a pitiful bit of help she doesn't even deserve?! What kind of proposition is that?"

Hermione was gobsmacked. She hadn't expected this to be easy, but she hadn't planned on provoking such animosity from a very pissed off Angelina.

"I - I've worked hard for this team," Hermione pleaded.

"And you can bet I've worked harder for mine," said Angelina fiercely. "Do you think I'm going to let them down like that?"

"It seems a shame to disappoint you," spat Hermione, unable to keep the bitchiness out of her voice, "but I think you'll find they've already jumped ship."

Angelina fell silent while this sank in, her face suddenly looking shocked and hurt rather than angry.

"Oh, I am sorry," Hermione said smoothly. "Did I spoil your little 'team spirit' moment?"

"I - I don't believe it," Angelina stuttered. "You're lying... you must be. Fred, George, Harry... they wouldn't just quit like that!"

"Go ask them," said Hermione confidently. "You're defending a team that doesn't even exist."

Angelina still looked angry and disbelieving.

"Ally?" Hermione turned her imploring brown eyes onto her blonde friend. "Will you help me?"

Did Alicia look... tempted?

"I'm sorry, Hermi, I just-" She hesitated.

"Isn't there anything I can do to make it worth your while?" coaxed Hermione, widening her eyes even further and ladling on the innuendo.

"Oh... I - but..."

Hermione nonchalantly bent down to wipe some non-existent lint from her Louis Vuitton sneakers. Incidentally, this allowed Alicia the exciting view right down her low-cut top.

"I'm in," sighed Alicia.

"And what about those of us who don't think with our pussies?" said Angelina disgustedly.

"Don't listen to that frigid bitch," muttered Alicia to Hermione.

"What's the matter," Angelina retaliated, "did they raise the V.A.T. on strap-ons again?"

There was a collective, suspenseful 'ooooooooh' from all those present.

Alicia looked Angelina squarely in the eye.

"You've never forgiven me for turning you down that night, have you?" She said triumphantly, knowing she held a trump card.

Angelina shrieked in shock and tried to smack Alicia around the face.

Fortunately Blaise, who had entered quietly during the tumult, intervened and pulled her away before any damage could be done.

"Ladies, please. Hear your beautiful spokeswoman out."

Hermione smiled at him thankfully as she waited for silence to be resumed.

"As I was trying to explain before our closet muff-diver here tried to interrupt," (with this, she cast a disparaging look at Angelina who was still struggling to escape Blaise's vice-like grip) "If you cheer with me tomorrow, you can really help to make a difference. You all know how many people have bet on the Hogwarts team to win. If the reserve squad have to play in their place..." (she couldn't help snickering at the very notion - Hannah Abbot played for them,) "Beauxbatons will easily win. Lee will rake in the cash from his betting racket, and he'll give enough of the profits to Parvati to make sure she never has to worry about money for her baby again. She can pay a childminder to look after Ranjit and come back to school. Don't you want to help her?"

"Not that much," said Cho, who could be merciless at times as Hermione well knew. "I'd rather play Quidditch."

Katie nodded in agreement with the keeper even though Padma looked ready to explode with rage.

"I'll use my cut of the money to buy you all a new cheerleading uniform!" added Hermione.

They remained unconvinced.

"With matching socks?"

Still no response.

"Personalised matching socks?"

Cho just raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, fine," said Hermione exasperatedly. "I hoped I wouldn't have to resort to this, but... whoever says 'yes' next gets to sleep with Blaise."

"WHAT?" he said in surprise, but Katie and Cho were already arguing about who had offered their consent first.

"No need to argue, ladies... there's enough of me to go around," Blaise beamed.

"That's enough of the sleaze from you, you lucky fuck," said Hermione affectionately.

Only Angelina remained unmoved. Hermione took a moment to reflect on how she would feel if her plan had all gone horribly wrong and all of her work had been ruined in a few minutes. She wouldn't have felt too good either.

"Look... I know you don't want to hear this right now, but I am sorry," said Hermione, regretting her bitchiness earlier.

"Yeah, I bet you are. Heartbroken," Angelina muttered bitterly.

"I know what it's like to work as hard as you have for something. I - I'm really, really sorry it has to be this way, but..."

"Look, save your pity for somebody who needs it," said Angelina defiantly. "You can't stop me from playing tomorrow."

"I know I can't... but maybe I can still persuade you not to."

Angelina could not possibly have looked more incredulous.

"Listen. If you cheer for us tomorrow..." Hermione paused and grimaced, "I'll kiss Ron full on the lips for one whole minute."

Angelina couldn't help giggling. "You'd do that?"

"With tongues," Hermione promised recklessly.

Angelina couldn't deny that the thought of the most popular girl in the whole school kissing perhaps the ugliest boy in the whole school for one delicious minute was very, very appealing. And if the whole team had already quit... what purpose would playing the match tomorrow serve? She'd only make a fool of herself. Which would be nothing compared to what Hermione was going to do if she kept her side of the bargain.

"I'll do it," said Angelina eventually.

Hermione squealed in delight and hugged Angelina hard.

"I promise you Angel, you will not regret this!"

*

It was the night before the final match of the International Schools Quidditch Championship. Everyone was feeling tense, nervous and very excited. Hermione, Blaise and Lee had done all they could to ensure a Beauxbatons victory. Now there was nothing left to do but watch and wait, praying for the best. Well… almost nothing.

Hermione still had one smug, self-confident card up her sleeve, and it was one which was going to cost her dearly to play. Of course she didn't know it at the time, which is why at ten minutes to seven on Friday evening she looked meaningfully at Harry and coughed once, audibly.

Harry gulped and looked pleadingly at Hermione. She just smiled almost imperceptibly and raised an eyebrow. Tentatively, he leaned over and put his hand on Dean's knee.

"Watch it, Potter. Don't fuckin' come on to me, mate!"

Harry blushed. Everyone laughed.

Hermione coughed again.

Again, Harry's hand sneaked its way onto Dean's leg.

"Fuck off, Potter! What are you, gay?" Dean pushed Harry's hand away violently.

Harry went an even deeper shade of crimson and looked at his placemat as the table erupted with laughter.

This time, Hermione picked up her spoon and hit her glass so that it made a tinging sound.

Harry swallowed and said,

"Blaise Zabini is a cock sucking motherfucker."

"Hey, what was that? Shut up, Potter!" Blaise couldn't help noticing that Hermione was trying very hard not to have hysterics.

Now everyone was looking at Harry in bewilderment. Was Potter drunk on his own celebrity? Who did he think he was, insulting someone like Blaise?

"Are you alright, Harry?" said Hermione pointedly. Harry mooed and kicked Blaise in the shin.

"Fuck you, man!" Blaise said angrily, "You kick like a girl, Harry."

"Baa!" Harry kicked Blaise again.

"What are you fucking doing? Don't you-"

Ting! Hermione hit her glass again.

Harry quailed. She hit her glass again, harder, and stared at him intently. He cracked.

"Hannah Abbot has lovely firm round breasts."

More laughter of the raucous variety.

Cough

This time Dean hit Harry on the shoulder before he'd even managed to touch his leg. "Fuck OFF, Potter!"

"Jesus, what's up with you, Harry?" asked Draco.

Once again Harry made an animal sound (this time he clucked) and kicked Blaise.

"Look, man, you are really fucking me off right now," said an incensed Blaise. This time he kicked Harry back, and as he was wearing steel toed dragon hide boots it must have hurt considerably. Harry whimpered and clutched his kneecap.

Ting!

"Last time I saw McGonagall, I got a massive hard-on," said Harry, sadly.

"EEEEW, HARRY!" said Hermione.

"Neeeigh!" Kick. This time Blaise threw a trifle into Harry's face.

Ting!

"Gosh, Pansy, I'd really like to suck your nipples."

This time it was Draco who hit Harry. "Don't let me ever hear you talking that way about Pansy again," he said sharply, stuffing a cream cake down Harry's back.

Ting!

"Last night I let Hedwig bite my balls," Harry muttered disconsolately.

Ting!

"Ron has a huge hairy penis."

Ron looked flattered.

Cough Ting Harry!

This time Harry grabbed Dean's crotch instead of his leg, said "When I'm alone I like to wear women's clothing," impersonated a seal and kicked Blaise very, very hard.

This time he got a glass of punch in his face, a swiss roll over the head and a bowl of hot soup in his lap. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and began to sob.

Ting!

"Last week I pooed my pants just to see what it felt like." The tears were falling freely now.

Ting Cough Harry! Cough Harry! Ting Ting Cough

"I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!!!" Yelled Harry, his voice cracking. "AT DRACO'S PARTY I GOT VERY DRUNK AND I SHAGGED GINNY WEASLEY, OKAY?"

Silence.

All eyes shifted from Harry to Ginny. The pretty redhead was absolutely mortified and buried her face in her arms to temporarily hide the shame.

Hermione looked horrified that her plan had backfired, but her expression was nothing compared to Cho's. The wronged Ravenclaw stood up.

"Harry Potter, you cheating bastard!" She was livid. "I can't believe I went away for one week and you ended up fucking some sleazy whore! Sorry, Ginny."

"No, that's fair," the redhead replied good-naturedly. "Oh, and you can hardly say it was a 'fuck'. More of an inexpert fumble, if you ask me."

Harry burst into tears for a second time.

"That's it," said Cho decisively. "We're over. You are officially dumped."

This speech was rewarded with heartfelt applause from all those present. Cho smiled graciously and resumed her seat while Harry decided that now was probably the time to leave.

*

The day of the match dawned bright and clear. Everyone awoke very early, and almost everyone was busy with last minute preparations for something.

Lee had closed his betting racket the night before and was counting up his money, already planning how to reinvest his cut of the profits. He had decided to leave the fate of the match resting in the hands of his two employees.

Blaise and Hermione both knew they were not out of the woods yet - there was a lot of work to be done and they both looked a little pale and tense, even if Blaise did grin broadly and unashamedly every time Cho or Katie hurried past.

"I take it somebody had a good night last night?" said Hermione dryly after he had done this for the fifth time.

"Yeah, you might say that," Blaise replied, resting his arm casually around her shoulder as they walked. "You know, I'm going to find it hard to repay you for that one."

"Oh, I'm sure I'll think of something," she replied deviously.

*

The Cheerleader uniforms (complete with personalised socks) arrived by owl at half past nine that morning. They were received with great excitement and even Angelina had to concede that they were very, very well designed. Flattering and also fairly revealing, they were rich purple in colour with gold lettering and a deep pink trim. The socks matched the trimming and there were also barrettes so even the hair would be co-ordinated. Hermione didn't like to think how much they must have cost. She'd ordered them on credit and if the unthinkable happened she would never be able to pay for them.

It fell to Angelina to tell McGonagall that the entire Hogwarts squad would have to be replaced with the reserves. When Minerva had been revived with the aid of smelling salts, the hapless reserve squad were informed of the change of plans and instructed to get the school team kit on immediately.

The Hogwarts reserve team were in the most part a luckless bunch. Almost everyone who had tried out for the school team at the beginning of term had given up with good grace when they realised that they would never intrude into the hallowed ranks of the 'magnificent seven.' But some people just didn't want to give up… and these people had signed up to join the reserve team on the offchance that Harry might die or that Alicia might chuck in the Quidditch and become a model instead. Until now nothing remotely resembling these situations had happened, so they had never been given the chance to play. This match would be their debut.

Draco was delighted to receive the news that he would be playing against such a good side as Beauxbatons, and he had always really wanted to represent the school. It wasn't that he was a bad player – it was just that there wasn't room for two seekers on a team, and his closest rival had been Harry Potter, God's gift to Quidditch. He was less delighted to find out that Harry Potter, God's gift to Quidditch would also be playing and that he, Malfoy, would only be a humble Chaser.

Draco was joined by Seamus and Neville, Hannah and Susan were appointed as Beaters, and Terry Boot (or 'Mad Dog Tez' as he preferred to be known) was in goal.

So it was that in the final of the 56th International Schools Quidditch Cup, Hogwarts School was represented by "Boot! Bones! Abbot! Longbottom! Finnegan! Malfoy! aaaaaand… Potttaaaaaaah!"

The Beauxbatons team were a far more formidable crew. Tall, lean and athletic, they swooped and arced across the pitch with precision and accuracy as Lee stutteringly introduced them. This time he had taken the precaution of using a decent pen on a proper bit of paper, which didn't do him much good considering that when he whipped it out of his pocket to read from it, a freak breeze snatched it from his hands and blew it away.

Bollocks. Lee didn't know much French, but he decided to put his limited knowledge to use.

"I give you… er…La Table! Fromage! Oo-ay la twalettes! Bonjore! Merd! whoops…I mean, er…la Cyclisme! Fattygay! aaaannnd… Voolay vous cooshay aveck moire say swoire!"

Looking at the pitch he realised that he had neglected to mention the names of the only two players he did recognise – the Delacours.

"May I take this opportunity to apologise to the shagtastic babes whose names I forgot… the fit blonde ones are of course the lovely DELACOUR SISTERS! The tall one with the legs up to 'er armpits is Fleur and the little one with, er…no tits is 'er younger sister Gabrielle!"

Despite Lee's introduction, wild and enthusiastic applause greeted the two star players.

Fleur and Gabrielle both waved and smiled to the crowd because luckily they didn't understand any of Lee's slang-ridden English and his French was so badly pronounced they only caught one bit about cheese and tables.

One shrill whistle from Madam Hooch and the match was underway.

Down on the ground, the Cheerleaders were preparing for their moment of fame. Their new uniforms looked great and their routines were well practised and polished.

They had a hard task ahead of them in winning over the crowd's support... half the people watching were supporting Beauxbatons and the other half were bitterly disappointed that the team they had put their money on had changed rather drastically at the last minute.

When Hermione ran onto the sidelines followed by her team she felt very grateful that their new uniforms showed a bit of flesh – without this pleasant distraction she doubted they'd have got far without being booed off of the pitch. But… there was a lot to be said for having a squad made up of the prettiest and most popular girls in the school. Most of Hogwarts' male population already looked as though they'd come round to the idea of supporting the cheerleaders rather than the actual school team, who were looking very unimpressive.

Fifty feet above, Beauxbatons were wiping the floor with the Hogwarts reserves. The French chasers were not as good as Hogwarts' ones would have been, but they were good enough to put several points onto the scoreboard in only the first few minutes.

As a goalkeeper, 'Tez' certainly had determination, often going far beyond the call of duty to express his rage when he let in a goal. This sometimes meant just a little display of annoyance, such as elbowing the offending chaser in the head, but managed to escalate to more impressive acts such as attempting to tie 'Oo-ay la twalettes' to the goalpost and whack a series of bludgers at his face.

Harry was facing problems of his own in the form of Gabrielle Delacour. She really was beautiful, he noticed, now he was close enough to see her face properly, and Lee hadn't been quite right when he said she had no tits…

She was younger than him by two years but she didn't look it. She was fairly tall for her age, with the same sheet of long, white blonde hair as her sister. For Quidditch purposes this was tucked behind her head in a neat bun. Her eyes were a piercing blue in colour and her skin was perfect… but that wasn't what he was meant to be concentrating on.

She had speed and agility as well as skill and she matched Harry easily in originality of manoeuvres. Every time his resolve, determination and quality of play started to improve above hers, she would disarm him completely with a dazzling smile or a wink as she swished past him. This simple tactic would reduce his legs to jelly and make his head fill with pleasant imagery that refused to go away. She must really like him! He felt another jolt of excitement as he wondered what would happen after the match. Did she want him? Was she telling him something? He hoped so. If she really did fancy him then he could forget about Cho and all the pain his relationship with her had caused. He could start afresh… show everyone that Harry Potter was capable of getting – and this time keeping – a girlfriend.

These thoughts were rudely interrupted when a bludger went whizzing past his head with alarming proximity. He whirled around angrily to find out who was responsible and found Tez grinning at him inanely.

"Soz, mate!" The keeper yelled, "I thought it'd be funny."

"Yeah, well…" Harry eyed Terry's bulging arm muscles warily, "Just… don't, okay?"

Tez's shock tactics were actually working fairly well. The Beauxbatons chasers were so fearful of the revenge he would exact if they scored that for a while they kept clear of the goal area entirely, choosing to focus on defense rather than attack.

The Hogwarts chasers' extra practise during countless lunchtimes had certainly paid off. Although they lacked the inherent intuition that Alicia, Angelina and Katie had been blessed with, through constant practise they had learned to read each other's signals fairly well. Draco's speed and impressive degree of skill coupled with Neville's reliability and Seamus'(… well actually, they usually tried to avoid passing to Seamus) meant that they put away a good few goals even with the Beauxbatons chasers' extra defensive capabilities.

The scores were becoming worryingly even. Hermione had expected this to be a walkover match in which Beauxbatons would achieve an embarrassingly easy victory. However, this was clearly not going to be the case. She hadn't expected the Chasers to be so good! Damn them. It was time to take some action.

Between cheers, she formed a huddle which excluded Pansy and explained her newest plan. The rest of the squad listened readily and nodded when they fully understood.

The next time the team attempted the hugely challenging 'double basket toss,' Pansy was hurled into the air just as they had discussed. However, instead of catching her just as they had always did in rehearsals, a rather unconvincing cry of,

"Look, there's Travis, the new Calvin Klein underwear model!" from Hermione meant that the whole of the rest of the team wheeled around and squealed… at nothing.

"Oops… evidently not," she said nonchalantly as Pansy crashed to the ground in a tangled heap of little limbs behind them. "Must have just been Hagrid. My mistake."

Cruel as it may have been, the plan had its effect. Up in the air, a horrified Draco watched as his little princess was dropped onto the grass in a most painful looking manner. He immediately called for 'time out' and hurtled to the ground to minister to his most perfect angel.

Pansy was quite all right, though severely annoyed and very, very tearful.

Hermione muttered a hasty apology and sent her to Alicia for a plaster, intercepting Draco before he had the chance to get to Pansy.

"Look, I'm sorry about her, but I have a more important reason for bringing you down here."

Draco was in a huff at having his Quidditch glory interrupted for no apparent purpose. He decided to give her the silent treatment.

"Don't sulk, it gives you wrinkles," Hermione reprimanded, pressing on regardless. He rearranged his face into an expression less damaging to his complexion and listened.

"I need you to stop playing so well," she said, flatly.

"What? Why?"

"I can't explain it now… no time. But if it helps, Blaise is in on this. I know you trust him even if you don't trust me."

This was true – they were best friends.

"Look, Hogwarts have got to lose or Lee, Blaise and I are stuck in it right up to our necks," she pleaded. "And Parvati and her helpless, underprivileged little baby are out on the streets!"

"But I've got 400 galleons on Hogwarts to win," he moaned, his expression pained.

Hermione looked at him imploringly.

"Don't you want to give your money to a single mother?"

"No."

"Wrinkles, Draco. Remember the wrinkles."

"But I don't want to. And if I know Hermione Granger, the only reason you're doing this is because you want to fuck Blaise and make a tidy share of my 400G."

In any other situation, Hermione would have pointed out that a) she was easily capable of getting Blaise into bed without joining Lee's crackpot moneymaking scheme and b) 400 galleons was probably less than Draco spent on his last shopping trip…

Instead, her lip quivered endearingly and she let her eyes fill with tears that were only half fake.

"How can you say that, Draco? I thought you had a heart, but…"

He looked at her and tried to keep his expression neutral.

"If you think you can win me over with that cute little girlie act, then… then… oh, fuck it, Hermione, I'm a complete pushover when it comes to you. What do you want me to do? I'll go along with it… just promise you won't drop Pansy again, will you? She's very delicate."

"Wheeeee! Look at me, Draco, I'm a jumping star!" Pansy was clearly all better. "Alicia gave me a Barbie plaster, look!" She showed him her knee which now had a small pink adhesive square on it.

"It's lovely, Pansy. Now, are you going to be alright?"

"Oh, don't worry your pretty little head about me, Draco. Angelina gave me a lollypop for being a very brave little girl. Hermione, can you throw me again? It was fun!" With this, she skipped away holding Alicia's hand.

Hermione and Draco exchanged looks.

"Just distract the other Hogwarts players," Hermione instructed. "You should be able to bribe Hannah with food… tell Susan that S Club 7 are visiting Hogwarts and she has to leave now if she wants to meet her favourite band… seduce Neville…" she grinned. "Just use your famous initiative."

"You know I'd do anything for you," he told her, "…except seduce Neville. I'll find a way around that one if you don't mind." He shouldered his broom and began to leave – time out was nearly up.

"I don't mind what you do as long as you lose. I'll do what I can from down here. Oh, and…" she called to his retreating back, "I promise to spend my cut of your 400 galleons on you!"

Regardless of the fact that the cheerleading team were waiting impatiently for their captain, and that Lee was hollering at Draco to 'get his arse back onto the fahking pitch and stop chattin' up girls', nothing could have prevented him from running back to where Hermione was waiting and pulling her into his arms.

*

While all of this excitement was going on, there were two people who were unfortunately missing the action. Ron and Viktor Krum, both wheelchair-bound, were being detained in the hospital wing by Madam Pomfrey, who disapproved of Quidditch intensely.

Poor Viktor had been left facing a blank wall for four days, and as his limbs were all in plaster, he was unable to move himself so that he was looking at something more interesting. He also had the company of Ronald Weasley to contend with. After Ron had overcome his initial shyness in the presence of his idol, he had lost no time in telling the Bulgarian superstar all about himself.

"Did I tell you about the time I encountered a Marmite flavour Bertie Bott's bean?" he asked, brightly.

"Ja," replied Viktor, dully. This did not deter Ron from repeating the exciting tale.

"Twas a fine, sunny day... the season of Spring had just come into bloom, and...

*

Draco needn't have worried about bribing Hannah with food. During time out she had discovered the refreshments tent and eaten all of the after-match feast. This was a fairly impressive feat as she'd only had ten minutes to eat fourteen 3-course meals, but... she was Hannah Abbot. The subsequent bloatedness and increase in weight meant that she could hardly mount her broom, and when she finally had it wedged between her barrel-like thighs the rickety old Cleansweep 5 could only move at the rate of a Special Olympic Hurdler. Despite this limitation she insisted that as she 'could still move her eyes' she should be allowed to play and that no substitution could be made.

Susan Bones was no harder to dispose of. One passing mention of Jon, Tina, Bradley, Hannah, Rachel, Paul and Jo being on the school premises and the bony Ravenclaw abandoned her broom immediately in search of her favourite pop stars. Clutching her autograph book firmly in her hand, she disappeared into the crowd.

This meant that when the Hogwarts team took to the skies again they only had 5 players capable of movement. Despite this, Tez was still doing a good job in goal and he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. Nobody had ever been sent off in a Quidditch match before, but then... nobody had ever stabbed an opposing player with a trowel before, either.

While Draco was still very reluctant to seduce Neville himself, he was sure that a similar tactic could be employed to great effect. The next time the blond chaser got near enough to his team-mate, he stage-whispered confidentially,

"Hey, Nev... I think Oo-ay la twalettes fancies you!"

"Really?" said the pudgy boy excitedly. "He is very good looking..."

"Oh, totally," confirmed Draco, "See the way he keeps whacking bludgers right at your face? It's always a sure sign."

With one chaser (Seamus) being totally incompetent as it was, and another one mooning over his Foreign fancy, the only useful players left were Draco, Harry and Tez. Draco had been watching Gabrielle closely every time he had a spare few seconds, and he was sure she was more than a match for Harry. But... amazingly, the team scores were still too even to ensure a Beauxbatons victory. If Harry caught the snitch now, Hogwarts would win. He hoped fervently that down on the ground, Hermione had something good up her sleeves.

*

The girl in question was watching the skies intently as she high-kicked and yelled semi-enthusiastically. The rest of the girls were doing a fantastic job, and the audience were responding very positively. It seemed they had finally succeeded in winning over the crowd's support, even if it had taken some extremely impressive moves to do so.

Nobody except Draco had had more than 15 Galleons on the outcome of the match, and as Tez had ensured singlehandedly that the final had been one of the most exciting games ever played at Hogwarts, nobody seemed to mind that the A-team had quit anymore.

Hermione decided that as the match could be over at any moment, it was time for their piece de resistance - the pyramid.

"Okay, girls, let's show them what we've got!" she yelled. "I want Angelina, Alicia, Katie, Padma and Mandy on the bottom row..."

The girls obliged willingly. "Now, Cho, Lavender, No-knickers-girl and me will get on top..."

They did so.

"Chiyo and Pansy, you next!"

The small martial arts fanatic hopped onto Hermione's shoulders, but Pansy was looking severely mutinous.

"I WANT TO GO ON THE TOP!" She yelled from way down on the ground.

"YOU CAN'T!" Hermione yelled back. "GINNY'S DOING IT!"

Pansy ran over and kicked Angelina in the shin. The pyramid wobbled dangerously.

"Ow!" said Angelina, struggling to keep Lavender balanced.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Hermione called down to her.

"IF YOU DON'T LET ME BE AT THE TOP THEN I'LL KNOCK YOUR WHOLE STUPID PYRAMID DOWN!"

"TRY IT AND I'LL KICK YOU OFF THE TEAM," threatened Hermione.

Pansy considered this and ceased her attempts to bite Alicia's knee.

"Don't worry, Hermione!" shouted Ginny, who was still on the ground. "I'm sure me and Pansy can sort this out rationally and sensibly." With this she pulled Pansy into a violent headlock and rubbed her knuckles forcefully on the blonde girl's skull.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, OW!" Squealed Pansy. "Get off me, you ginger minger!"

"Fuck you, gutterslut."

"You can't go at the top. You're too fat."

Ginny stamped on Pansy's toe.

"That was a really big lettuce leaf you had for lunch, Pansy. Are you sure you don't need to go and throw it up?"

"Ooooh, bitchy. You know, you really shouldn't introduce so much anger into the team," Pansy said morally.

"You'd better shut up before I introduce my foot into your arse."

"You're a cow." Pansy grabbed Ginny's hair and pulled with all of her puny might.

"I'm sorry, did somebody try to insult me just then? Only...I thought I felt a pathetic, useless little gust of air go past me as it vanished into nothing."

"That must have just been you, farting in your own face," said Pansy, maturely.

"Uh, Pansy?" said Alicia, who was feeling the strain of having the weight of two healthy girls on top of her, "You look very sexy in that tiny little skirt of yours. Bear in mind that if you want to climb all the way up to the top, I might not be able to stop myself trying to finger you."

Hermione looked at Alicia gratefully. Alicia's well chosen, though untrue words had their effect. Pansy looked absolutely disgusted.

"EEEEUUUURGH!"

"I don't mind," said Ginny liberally, quickly hopping up over Alicia's shoulders, getting a leg-up from Hermione and reaching her rightful place at the top of the splendid pyramid.

They received a huge round of applause and some very admiring looks as the four-storey construction was completed, but Pansy was not quite beaten yet.

"EVERYONE KNOWS YOU'RE ONLY DOING THIS BECAUSE YOU FANCY DEAN!" she screamed.

Ginny did not justify this accusation with a reply. Instead, she jumped off of Chiyo's shoulders and plummeted 15 feet right onto Pansy who was still standing below.

They fell to the ground heavily and began tearing, biting and kicking each other in earnest.

*

Susan had taken off her thick spectacles before she ventured onto the Quidditch pitch as she hadn't wanted them to get broken. Now, however, she felt they would have been rather useful. Finding the members of her beloved pop group was proving to be rather difficult, as her field of vision only extended to about a yard in front of her.

Despite this hindrance, she was doing rather well in her own opinion. She had already collected " Tina's " signature from a rather bewildered Hagrid and was hoping to get some others. She may not have been so confident if she had known that 'Bradley' was in fact a small Chaffinch and the band member she had suspected to be Hannah was in reality the Whomping Willow.

*

While all this was happening, some further developments had occurred in the match.

Neville had mysteriously absconded with Oo-ay la twallettes, leaving Draco and Seamus to chase alone.

Tez had finally retired with rather bad grace after knocking himself unconscious, and was now sipping some pumpkin juice through a straw while watching from the sidelines and making violent threats at the opposing team. He was very proud of the fact that he had broken nearly all of the 700 rules, and would have achieved the full set had there been any sheep available and a Tomahawk had been to hand.

Beauxbatons were really taking the lead now - the scores stood at 80 - 230 which meant that a French victory was almost assured.

Harry was chasing Gabrielle closely, adopting an old tactic of Cho's and following her every move rather than choosing to look for the snitch himself. He knew that as soon as she sighted it and made her move, his superior broom would ensure he got there first. He needed a capture soon - if Beauxbatons scored one more time, even the extra 150 points awarded at the end of the match wouldn't be enough for Hogwarts to win.

But what was this? Gabrielle had suddenly taken off like a bullet and was speeding across the pitch towards a tiny glint of gold. Harry was on her tail at once, urging the Firebolt forwards as fast as it would go.

In the commentary box, Lee was almost hysterical with apprehension and excitement.

"MY GOD, JUST LOOK AT THEM GO! A HOGWARTS CAPTURE MEANS A DRAW AND A REMATCH BUT IF GABY GETS THERE FIRST THE FRENCHIES TAKE THE TROPHY!"

Meanwhile, unnoticed by anyone, Seamus had possession of the Quaffle for the first time in the entire match, and with a cry of 'Begorrah!' he was making his way towards the golden hoops of the scoring area. If he could only score, then Hogwarts would certainly win! He'd be a hero! There was no doubt that Harry would reach the Snitch first - you couldn't beat a Firebolt. If he, Seamus, could lower the difference in scores by just 10 points, victory was theirs! He was 100 feet away... 90...

*

Hermione was watching Seamus like a hawk. She had to get the timing just right or... she shuddered. It didn't even bear thinking about. The crowd were all on their feet, screaming and yelling like maniacs. All this was happening in a matter of seconds.

NOW!

"PLAN 'B'!" She screamed. The rest of the Cheerleaders aligned themselves as they had arranged and Hermione gave the signal to Lee, praying he'd pick up on it in all the excitement. He did.

"WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT?!" He yelled, right on cue. "SOME GORGEOUS BABES ARE FLASHIN' THEIR TITS!"

"Now, girls!" she commanded. On her orders, 11 of Hogwarts' finest lifted their tops and bared all to the world. No-knickers-girl, the 12th, had heard the orders wrong and was mooning everyone delightedly.

For a split second, everybody stared. Not even Quidditch was better than the chance to see some tits.

Seamus had only been a few feet from glory when it happened. As soon as he sighted the marvellous array of bosoms, he dropped the Quaffle in surprise and stared for a moment. But... he was still travelling at 120 m.p.h! He realised there was no way he could avoid what was going to be the most painful experience of his life. He smashed into the central goalpost with his legs wide open and slid an excruciating 50 feet down to the ground.

Harry couldn't help it... he was only human, after all. When else would he get such a chance again? And though he knew it wasn't wise, he spent a few seconds just ogling.

These few seconds were easily enough for Gabrielle to draw level. As one with Veela blood, she was immune to such distractions and had a fierce level of concentration which was certainly an advantage to her now.

The streak of blue which whipped past Harry's ear brought him sharply back to reality.

He began to chase her again but those precious seconds had given her too great an advantage... hadn't they? He put in one last burst of effort... he was drawing level! Yes! Yes!...Yes!.......................................... No!

An arm reached out and grabbed his sleeve, hard. He swung round, out of control.

Gabrielle's lips touched his in a blissful moment of fire and passion which took away his breath and made him shiver with lust.

Then she broke away and let go of his arm, her face joyful and her spare hand clenched tightly around the little golden ball.

"OUI!" She cried ecstatically. "Beauxbatons sont la mieux!"

*

It would be impossible to fully describe the happiness which this fleeting moment caused for all those who had brought it about. Lee, Hermione, Blaise, Draco, Alicia, Angelina, Katie, Cho, Pansy, Ginny, Chiyo, No-knickers-girl, Padma, Lavender and Mandy all leapt into the air and screamed, kissed, hugged and generally celebrated in the appropriate manner. Lee kissed Hermione who kissed Blaise, who in the height of the confusion kissed Lee. All of them had a happy glow inside which told them they had just become very, very rich.

Ginny leapt into Dean's arms and kissed him passionately.

"Little slut," said Pansy affectionately as she watched them. Draco swooped down and grabbed Pansy by the waist, hoisting her onto his broom and giving her a lap of honour around the pitch before setting her down again and disappearing off to celebrate further.

Fleur and Gabrielle were embracing, tears of happiness gracing their cheeks as they jointly accepted the huge silver trophy.

After a lot more of the same, the crowds in the stands finally began to disperse. As the post-match feast had been cancelled, everyone was keen to get to the parties which would doubtless be happening in every common room until the early hours of the morning.

*

As much as Harry had wanted to win, he was finding it hard to feel in any way sad. Gabrielle liked him! She had kissed him and it had felt wonderful! He decided he should speak to her, but when he scanned the pitch he couldn't see her.

"Fleur? Have you seen Gabrielle?"

The tall blonde turned around from where her and Alicia had just begun a small celebration of their own and looked at him like he was a stain on an Evisu T-shirt.

"Oh, eet is you, ees eet? Gabrielle said she would be waiting for a boy in the changing rooms eef 'e asked for her."

Full of excitement, Harry scurried off to find the girl of his dreams. He was desperate to feel her touch again, to feel that fire which had seared his very heart.

When he reached the changing rooms there was warm steam issuing forth from behind the door. She must be using the showers!

Harry felt a small stirring in the region of his crotch. He could hear her voice, calling to him...

He pushed open the door. Now he was in the room, he realised he could hear two voices, not just one. Sickened, he listened silently.

"...and so I 'ad no choice but to keeess him. C'etait tres horrible, naturellement..."

"Poor you... I hope I'm more to your liking?"

"Oh, oui... your breath does not steeenk like his... you taste... delicieux!"

From the sounds of things, she proceeded to taste him some more.

Harry was horrified. She didn't like him after all! He'd been deluding himself. The only reason she'd flirted with him was to win the game. Oh, what a cruel temptress!

He was sure he recognised the other voice, but he had to know for sure... he rounded the corner which led to the washing area and screamed.

A slippery, foam covered entanglement of lightly tanned bare skin and wet blonde hair looked to be having a lot of fun up against the wall of the communal showers.

Draco and Gabrielle made no attempt to disentangle themselves from each other and barely even looked at Harry.

"Oh...Go away, will you Potter?" Draco managed in between moans of pleasure.

Harry wasn't surprised Malfoy was enjoying himself. Gabrielle was pressing the fabulous front of her naked body against him and twisting his hair around her fingers playfully in between kisses as they stood under the powerful jets of hot water.

"Ooh la la, Gabrielle!" The blond boy giggled as she pinched his behind, hard.

"Potter, are you still here? Please just take a hint and fuck off..."

Harry fucked off.

*

Before the end of the night, just one small loose end remained to be tied up. The Gryffindor common room had been chosen as the main venue for the post-match celebrations, and the area was packed with students. Loud music was belting out from somewhere and the alcoholic beverages were flowing freely.

"Hermione?" said Angelina, a faintly malevolent glint in her eye. "I have one Mr. Ronald Weasley here who is owed a full minute of kissing. With tongues, if I remember rightly. So... is he going to get it?"

Hermione, who was in the middle of a very entertaining drinking game with Lee which involved removing articles of clothing, looked up in horror.

"Can't you give me a minute?" she asked.

"No," said Angelina.

"But Lee's nearly naked," whined a still-fully-clothed Hermi. "I want those pants off!"

"It can wait," the black girl insisted. "You don't want to keep Ronnikins waiting, now do you?"

The wheelchaired Ron was almost peeing himself with anticipation. He was wearing an unflattering brown knitted jumper and his plaster cast (which read "Please get better soon" followed by Viktor Krum's signature) was partly hidden by some very baggy orange shorts. His plastic-y sandals had made a comeback, and with his Chudley Cannons hat clashing with his hair, he did not look appealing.

Perhaps if Hermione had consumed a little more alcohol she would have done it right there and then. But... she was definitely still much too sober. And idea struck her.

"Oh, Blai-sie?" she called affectionately. "Where are you?"

She soon found him sprawled on one of the sofas with Katie Bell on top of him. They were very involved in each other and he didn't look happy at the interruption. Still, he consented to come and talk to her in private.

"Blaise, do you remember that teeny, weenie little favour I did for you yesterday?" she asked, fishing out a handkerchief and attempting to remove some lipstick stains from his ear. "You know, that one where I hooked you up with two of the hottest girls in the school?"

"Yeah," he said dreamily. "I totally owe you. Katie's hardly been out of my pants since."

"I heard that!" interjected the accused girl from the sofa where she was trying to re-hook her bra.

"Well, it's true," he said, defensively.

"Seeing as you 'totally owe me,' how about you help me out... now?"

"Do I have to?" he asked, looking longingly at Katie. Her hair was very tousled and she too had lipstick all over her face.

"Yes."

After much grumbling on his part, she finally coerced him to do her bidding.

After five minutes in the boys' dorm, Hermione was safely concealed under Harry's cloak and Blaise had undergone a dramatic (though temporary) transformation.

"Wow..." said Hermione in wonder as she looked at him. "Am I really that hot?!"

"You'd better believe it," he grinned. He was having far too much fun fiddling with parts of her anatomy that he should definitely not be touching.

"Blaise, would you get off my body?"

"It's mine for now," he said. "Hey... my voice sounds like yours!"

"Duh. You are me. Which does not give you the right to touch my nipples."

He looked crestfallen.

"If you want to feel my body again, then I am definitely going to be in possession of it," she said, firmly. This seemed to cheer him up.

"How long will this stuff last?" he asked.

"Uh... about... an hour? Now, put some clothes on and... go kiss Ron."

Blaise paled. Hermione grinned. "You'll be fine. Just don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

*

Much to the amusement of all who saw the event, somebody who to all intents and purposes was Hermione kissed Ron full on the mouth for almost one whole minute... with tongues.

Much to the amusement of Hermione, the potion she'd given Blaise wore off after just fifty nine seconds, exactly as she'd planned. After an undignified transformation, he was left standing in the middle of the common room, still locking lips with Ron, wearing some very girlie clothes which were several sizes too small especially in the panty department.

The fact that Hermi had cheated her way out of yet another scheme didn't seem to bother Angelina - she and everyone else had had the pleasure of watching Hermione and Blaise kiss Ron, and so the fact that Hermione hadn't actually done it was of no consequence.

If Blaise had been a different person, he might have been embarrassed, but he wasn't ... he was just, well... Blaise. So naturally, he milked the attention for all it was worth and spent the rest of the evening proceeding to 'prove' his straightness by getting off with as many females as would have him.

And as for Ron? Well, Blaise had looked like Hermione, and felt like he assumed Hermione would feel, and tasted like he'd hoped she would taste... and he was a very good kisser... so the ginger boy was more than happy at the way things had turned out.

Draco and Gabrielle arrived at the common room about an hour later, lapping up the public interest they aroused as they did so. Alicia had put Pansy to bed early, anxious to prevent an ugly confrontational scene from unfolding. The minuscule blonde had not objected to Alicia's offer of a bedtime story, as she was exhausted after the day's events.

However, the 'all you can read special' turned out to be a mistake on Ally's part, and she only escaped giving a fifth rendition of 'Percy the Pimply Pixie down in Dingly Dell' by sedating Pansy's hot chocolate.

Harry had finally been convinced by Ron to leave his dormitory where he had been sobbing quietly for ages, so even he didn't miss out. So what if he had to hang around with first years? At least a few of them thought he was a bit cool.

Even Hannah Abbot and her trusty sidekick were having a good time.

Susan was beaming because Jo (a.k.a Dean) had signed her autograph book. It was probably lucky that she still couldn't find her glasses, as she would have been disappointed to note what her favourite band member had written.

Hannah was still mildly glazed and euphoric from her food binge earlier. She wasn't even indignant that a tittering Blaise had given her a chauvinistic slap on the rump and commented that she was a "stout, healthy piece of ass."

*

"So... you're giving how much money to Parvati?"

"About 5000 galleons," said Lee. "That'll be enough to see her through the last three years of school and pay for everything Ranjit will need."

"That's great!" Hermione said, happily. "I'm just so pleased this all worked out."

Padma came over to the two friends and joined them.

"Thankyou so much for everything you've done," she said warmly. "I don't know how we can ever repay you."

"Oh, don't worry," said Hermione, grinning. "I made a fortune... I've got enough to pay for the cheerleading outfits in full, I'm going on one hell of a shopping trip this weekend and I'll still have about 5500 galleons in the bank. That's enough reward for me."

"As long as you're sure..."

"We're sure," Lee and Hermione reassured her together. Padma smiled gratefully and left.

Hermione handed Lee his boxer shorts. He was still butt-naked after losing their drinking game miserably.

"You'll probably want to put these back on now."

Lee did so, and soon wandered off after being distracted by a rapidly increasing circle of people playing a game involving dice, chocolate and an assortment of fancy-dress clothes.

Hermione was left alone for a moment. Their plan had been a huge success... everyone loved the cheerleading team... Parvati was saved... she'd got an absolute ton of money to spend. After the flashing incident, she wasn't sure where her campaign for Head Girl stood with McGonagall. She was sure her straight-laced teacher hadn't been too impressed.

But... never mind that now - it was great to be in a party atmosphere again.

Katie's knickers on the chandelier... Harry, in the corner, playing 'Paper, Scissors, Stone' with Susan Bones... Blaise enthusiastically attempting to organise a 'guess whose bottom is sticking through the curtain' game... Tez breaking Seamus' wrist in an arm-wrestle... Hogwarts' second best band playing deafeningly loudly while Tequila Slammers were served at midnight.

She was the star of the moment - she had her pick of people to talk to and she knew she could have almost any guy... or girl... in the room. She could jump onto a table and dance, or start a conga line, or take all her clothes off and sing 'I will Survive' in French while waving her underwear around.

She fully intended to do all of these things, possibly more than once. Pulling her hair free from its ponytail and removing her shoes, Hermione went looking for some fun.

*

End of Part Six

A/N:

· Extra points to any kind reviewer who can tell us the American definition of 'skank/skanky'. In English Slang it means rubbish, poor, bad quality, or anything Ron wears, says or does.

· We are considering making a glossary to accompany this story so that readers not familiar with our use of language can find find definitions of our rather English vocabulary. If you don't understand what the hell we (or Lee) are on about, please tell us so in your lovely reviews so that we can help you out. K?

· After reviewing earlier parts of this story, we have decided that they do not adequately reflect a)the characters' personalities b)the time and effort we put into episode 6 and c)our ability as writers. When Aurora and Drosera have time, they will overhaul the whole lot and re-issue it so that the whole story is of equal quality and does not contain scenes like the one with Crabbe and Goyle in turbans

or lines like "Somehow, he found himself wanting to shag Hermione less… "

I mean... would anyone who actually knew her ever say that? Ha ha.

Thankyou for bearing with us and we hope you enjoyed this part. Stay tuned for part seven... and start thinking 'Talent Show'. We love you, readers. ^_~ A & D