Author's Notes: I'd like to thank Enfleurage for bring to my attention a slip in my storytelling. You're right, but the mistake was a typo. I had missed it. As of Chap. 6; the score stands 70-20 with the Teachers in the lead. Thank you for pointing this out. Also, Alexander is Severus' middle name and what he was raised to answer to. I mention it briefly in my story "When the Past Comes Back." and plan to explain it in greater detail in a later story, till then- Enjoy the Game!

There were a few times in Harry Potter's young life he knew he was going to die and for some reason they were always at Hogwarts. As he watched Snape mount his broom, he was getting the sinking feeling that this was one of those times. The animosity between them was legendary but normally Harry wouldn't have feared too much for his life, especially with Dumbledore so close. Lucius caught his eye, sneering sinisterly. Still, Harry thought, a lot could happen in a Quidditch game.

"Focus on the Game, Harry!" Roger Davies said as he flew by.

Harry nodded but decided not to take the advice. He wiped the sweat away and looked at the score board. The teachers were killing the students, and if ever they was a time for him to catch the Snitch it was now.

"No pressure Harry." He murmured to himself.

He watched as Draco Malfoy whirled in and out, slamming Bludgers at everyone. Draco had found his calling (although McGonagall looked murderous.) Lockhart had finally moved from his post near the sixth years to a higher perch near some recent alumnae. Apparently, it had finally occurred to him that his fantasies where illegal. Harry blinked the sweat away from his eyes again and nursed a few fantasies of his own. Like a long drink of water or pumpkin juice or tea...Cho could serve it to him in a nice bikini...

He noticed Snape staring at him curiously and he stopped smiling. He recalled his conversation with Dumbledore last year and wondered how much could he trust Snape. There was something not right about him. He appeared to hate the students yet he still taught, and he appeared to have no love for Muggles or Muggle born wizards, yet Dumbledore trusted him beyond words.

"If you are ready...if you are prepared." Dumbledore had spoken those words to him in a tone that had suggested trust and affection.

Harry asked himself the same question that had been plaguing him all summer. Could he really trust Snape? If he had to rely on his gut instinct the answer was a resounding no. Still, Dumbledore trusted him, didn't he? There was still the issue of Snape never getting the position of Defense teacher, maybe Dumbledore was just pretending to trust Snape. Harry was getting a headache, there were too many What ifs.

The crowd cheered as the students scored. Harry grimaced, it still wasn't enough to secure a win. Not to mention Vector suddenly grabbed the Quaffle again and was speeding towards the goal.

Harry thought back to his past matches. He still remembered the thrill of the first time he caught the Snitch. It hadn't been a glorious victory but it had been a victory and he smiled to think how much it had meant to him. He tried to shake away the truth of in a few months time from that game, he faced his parent's killer. Or, that the happiness he gained from these simple games were only pinpricks of mirth in his long, drawn out struggle. He gritted his teeth, feeling the hatred well in his throat and tried in vain to stop it. He hated Voldemort more then he loved anything in his life and sometimes it scared him to admit that. What would happen to him if he let that hatred win? That was another What if, he didn't like the answer too. He swallowed hard and tried to forget, this game was all that mattered for the moment.

Severus had to admit he admired Harry. The boy, as pathetic and annoying as he was, deserved a lot more then his lot in life. The boy noticed he was staring at him and suddenly looked away, nervous to have the man that so openly despised you play against you. He smiled. He had hated when he played James Potter when they had been young and he thanked God Sirius was too stupid to play. He smirked.

"Oh right, we're suppose to be friends now." He reminded himself. "I'd rather kiss a Troll. They'd probably smell better then that flea bitten dog anyway." His mind wandered to the crowds below him, he picked out Lucius sitting next to his wife. "Inbred swine, the whole lot of them. Then again, so are you Severus." He smiled at sat up slightly. "Or as it more apt to include Alexander Rinaldi Snape."

Something caught his eye from the stands. He ignored the game (which was becoming a trait with the Seekers) and lowered himself just slightly. It was a hooded figure. The person removed their hood and smiled. Snape felt a rush of joy. It was Kaiya Alchemy, the girl he had taken under his wing; gentle and looking up at him in pride. He smiled at her and nodded softly before feeling a familiar pang from the past. He pulled up on his broom and rose. Some times he liked to forget the world and pretend he lived a normal life. These wants were always magnified when Alchemy was around. He shook his head. Thing would never be 'normal' not for people like him. It was foolish to dream like that; he'd be driven insane from the What ifs.

Just then, a flash of gold flew past followed by a wind he assumed to be Harry Potter.

"Blast it all!" He hissed and took off in pursuit.