Disclaimer: I own the Hufflepuff quidditch team and Professional Quidditch Illustrated magazine. JK Rowling owns Hogwarts and the rest of its inhabitants. The song "We Will Rock You" belongs to Queen. (I just realized I've mentioned it a couple of times in this fic and never gave Queen the credit! All apologies.) The book-reading scene was inspired by the cool (heheh) movie Mystery, Alaska starring Russell Crowe, Burt Reynolds and the New York Rangers (YAY!). Justin's "ear" comment was inspired by the Tyson-Holyfield fight (and the line of chocolate products it spawned). Finally, Wayne Gretzky belongs to himself.

Technical Notes: I retained much (if not all) of the Slytherin quidditch team from Prisoner of Azkaban. I believe this was because I was too lazy to think up my own names :D And again, please refer to Chapter 9.

Author's Notes: (Man, I love these pre-story comment things :D) I've got an inter-House study group going in this chapter. While JK's characters seem to stick only to each other in her books, I like to think that the Hogwarts students mix with each other — except maybe Slytherin, who are kind of aloof. Some people may have an issue with that and I do now, but please bear in mind that this is my first-ever Harry Potter fanfic, so I've developed a bit since then. Thank you! Now, on with the show!

The Great Gretzky Fake-out

"There will be no mercy, ladies and gentlemen!" Justin Finch-Fletchley ranted during his pre-game commentary on the appointed Sunday afternoon. He really was a nice guy, but from the minute he heard about the confrontation with Malfoy, he began hyping up Hufflepuff versus Slytherin as the grudge match of the century. "There will be broomstick artistry like you've never seen, some blood and bruises, and possibly a broken bone or two, but I guarantee that there will be no retreat, no surrender!"

"That guy could make a living as a fight promoter," Hex observed as he waited for Justin to get on with the introductions, "or a televangelist."

Peggy, who had been restlessly pacing the tunnel, looked up. "Are you sure you're all right, Hex?"

"Yes, Mom, I'm just fine," he replied in a singsong voice. He knew the Hufflepuffs were genuinely concerned about his health, but couldn't help thinking that some might be more worried about the house's quidditch winning streak. "There's no need to call off the match."

"Oh, Hex, that's not what we're worried about at all," Bridget told him.

"We don't want you to get hurt," Samira agreed.

"Well, I won't," Hex said. "I'm fine. We've got Jeremy all suited up and ready to call in anytime you want." Having the reserve Beater waiting in the stands had been the only way he could persuade Professor Sprout to let him play that afternoon. "But I swear you won't need him."

Peggy frowned. "If this is about Malfoy and your stupid male pride—"

"Draco is not an issue," Maeve told her firmly. "Hex just wants to play."

Hex smiled at her briefly and turned to the rest of the team. "Look, you guys, this may be our last game of the season." Hufflepuff still had a rematch against Gryffindor coming up, but the appearances of the Dementor and Eris Lestrange gave rise to talk that quidditch could be called off for the year. Dumbledore had agreed to go on with that afternoon's match only because the students took extra Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons (whoopee, extra helpings of Professor Snape) and teachers were patrolling the grounds in case another Dementor — or another Lestrange — showed up. "We begged them to let us play today. Maybe I do want to prove to everyone that I'm OK, but more than that I just want to be out there with all of you. It's where I should be."

He looked at all their faces. Some of the girls looked convinced, but Robert arched a derisive eyebrow. "To borrow a phrase from you, Hex, that was a crock of shit."

Maeve giggled. "OK," Hex averred, "how about this — we all watched Jeremy practice and I'm sure he's going to do his best if and when he plays, but I still work better with Peggy than he does. And I'm fine. Will that do?"

Samira laughed as Justin told the crowd to get ready to rumble. "It'll have to. Get on your broomsticks, everybody. It's time."

"Good luck," Robert said as his name was announced. And they were off.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is Beater Hex Holmstrom's return to active duty after his encounter with the Dark Side," Justin told the crowd as seven yellow blurs circled the arena. "At first, his health was a concern, but I've seen him in practice, folks, and let me tell you, the man is back at one thousand percent!"

Hex grinned and gave the roaring Hufflepuff supporters a thumbs-up as he did a lap around the pitch. Then the last echoes of "We Will Rock You" died down and the Slytherin side of the stands began to cheer.

"And their opponents…" Justin intoned, sounding much less enthusiastic. The Slytherins cheered as Justin announced their house team's names and the players took to the air. On the other hand, the Hufflepuff supporters all opened thick schoolbooks and began to read them in silent dismissal of the team now circling the pitch.

"This was a brilliant idea," Hermione giggled as she and Ron ducked behind Hogwarts, A History.

"You're not reading for real, are you, Hermione?" Fred asked.

"No wonder so many people borrowed books this morning!" Madam Pince murmured.

"Taking books out on the grounds!" Professor Snape hissed. "There should be five points taken from each of them!"

"Oh, hush, Severus," Professor Sprout told him. "You're just mad that we got the idea first."

"Taking books out on the grounds is against the rules!"

"There is nothing in Hogwarts regulations about where students are to read their books," Professor Dumbledore said as the green-clad Slytherin players took their places. "I appreciate your concern for school property, Severus, but I am certain that the students will store and return their books properly after they are used during this match."

On her way to her place in the lineup, Maeve stopped to wish Hex luck. "Take care of yourself," she said. "They'll be aiming for you."

"I'll be fine."

"I know." And she leaned over and kissed him, right in front of everyone. "Good luck."

"Oi!" Ron put down his Omniculars. "Are they doing what I think they're doing?"

Hex blushed and grinned as the crowd cheered them on. Behind her, their opponents were gaping. And Malfoy looked absolutely furious. "That was a mean thing to do to poor Barf-boy," he told her just before kissing her back, "but I forgive you."

"Public displays of affection!" Professor Snape exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at the pair. "Twenty points must be taken from each of them!"

"Oh, can it, Severus," Professor Sprout snapped, doing a little "borrowing" of her own.

"The two young people are in love," Maggie McGonagall sniffled. "Isn't it beautiful?"

It was a struggle right from the opening whistle. No amount of mental preparation could have readied the Hufflepuff team for the knockdown drag-out fight against Slytherin. "OW! Another flying elbow by Chaser Montague!" Justin cried as Madam Hooch blew her whistle for the nth time that morning. "Another foul, ladies and gentlemen…it looks to me like Slytherin is finally running out of moves — Quidditch Through the Ages doesn't have a very long list of illegal moves and it can only take you so far—"

"FINCH-FLETCHLEY!"

"Yes, Professor…as I was saying, Houlihan takes the penalty shot—BAM! Beats the Slytherin Keeper, the score is 50-30 in favor of Hufflepuff! Did you hear that, fans? Hufflepuff is leading Slytherin!" This last statement was met with a mixture of cheers and boos as the crowd expressed its sentiments. "Slytherin's, er, cutting-edge style of play has drawn many fouls, of which the Hufflepuff Chasers have taken full advantage. However, Slytherin has so far managed to hold its own during this match. The game resumes, Slytherin in possession of the Quaffle."

Hex aimed his Bludger at Slytherin Chaser Ian MacNair, cussed when it went wide, then flew to catch up with him. "You're gonna miss, dude!" He scooted a little closer. "Miss, miss, miss; you're gonna miss…"

MacNair glared at him, but the focus in his beady eyes told Hex that someone was coming up behind him. "OW!" Justin cried as the crowd groaned in sympathy. "Slytherin tries to sandwich Holmstrom, but the Hufflepuff Beater dives in the nick of time, and MacNair and Derrick collide! MacNair drops the Quaffle, Holmstrom ready and waiting — clubs the Quaffle to Derwent! Derwent's tearing up the pitch, ladies and gentlemen; meanwhile, Seekers Malfoy and Moondaughter are still circling overhead…"

However, even with Peggy covering his back against any Bludgers, Tim's shot was turned back by the Slytherin Keeper. "Don't worry about it," Bridget consoled him. "We're still leading."

But not for long. Hufflepuff's other shots were similarly denied, while on the other side of the field, Slytherin's Chasers — one after the other — tied the score and took the lead, 60-50. "Who's kicking whose ass now, Mudblood?" Malfoy gloated.

Hex growled and aimed a Bludger at him, drawing a foul and allowing Slytherin to up the score at 70-50. "You've got to keep cool, Hex," Samira said during the succeeding time-out. "We want to make them angry, remember?"

"Sorry," he grumbled, glaring at the ground. "Barf-boy was being a jerk."

"Well, the best way to put him in his place is to beat Slytherin." She laughed. "Whether you want to thrash him after the game is your business."

"If it makes you feel any better, Hex," Peggy said, "you're playing like you were never hurt at all. I don't know why we ever thought we needed the reserve."

"I never thought we needed the reserve," Maeve declared as there were nods of agreement all around.

Hex managed a grin. "Thanks, you guys. That does help some. Let's go out there and get our game back, shall we?"

"Come back for more, have you?" Malfoy sneered as the teams again faced each other on the pitch. "I always knew they had nothing but idiots in Hufflepuff."

"That's enough!" Madam Hooch snapped. "If you can't keep a civil tongue in your head, Mr. Malfoy, I'm forfeiting this match this instant!" She eyed both teams and, satisfied that everyone's tongues were civil again, blew her whistle.

Swish!

"Bloody hell!" Ron howled as the Hufflepuffs went wild. "Did you see that?!"

"Ladies and gentlemen, Bridget Houlihan scores for Hufflepuff!" Justin announced. "She grabbed the Quaffle at the whistle and launched it straight toward the Slytherin goal!"

"She made the shot from almost half a field away!" Harry exclaimed. "And it made it past Flint!"

"The score is now 70-60 in favor of Slytherin, folks, and the lovely Miss Houlihan has earned a place in the history books!"

"Yea, Bridget!" Peter roared, quite forgetting himself in the excitement of the moment.

"Yea, Bridget! Yea, Bridget!" the Hufflepuffs chanted, waving their banners and cheering wildly once more.

"One more goal, and we're out of the hole!" Justin bellowed, dancing up and down in his seat. Professor McGonagall, still dumbstruck by Bridget's miraculous move, did not censor him.

The action shifted to the Hufflepuff side of the field as Slytherin Chaser Warrington made his way toward the goal. The Slytherin Chasers were grouped closely together and quickly passing the Quaffle among themselves. However, Samira, Hex and Peggy formed a cluster of their own and plowed into the Slytherin group, causing Montague to drop the Quaffle right into Timothy's waiting arms.

Samira dodged Warrington's huge fist and sped away to help protect Timothy's back as he flew toward the Slytherin goal. "Pee-yew! Get away from me, man," Hex snapped as a Slytherin Beater (he wasn't sure which one) glued himself to his side, trying to get through to Timothy. His new Siamese twin didn't smell too fresh. "When was the last time you had a shower?"

Hex said a few choice words (and thanking his lucky stars that Madam Hooch was out of earshot) as the Slytherin nudged him again, and again, harder this time. Finally, he grunted and they collided, but Hex managed to stay on his broomstick while the other boy dropped back, bellowing and holding his head.

He had taken a Bludger meant for Hex, who grinned as the two Slytherin Beaters decided to settle their differences with their clubs. "What are those two imbeciles doing?" Malfoy said angrily as he sped toward them, momentarily distracted in his search for the Snitch.

"Derrick! Bole! What are you doing?" Professor Snape called from the stands. "You're Beaters, not prizefighters!"

"Bite his ear!" Justin suggested to the combatants.

"FINCH-FLETCHLEY!"

Hex caught up with Timothy, who was on a breakaway, just as a Bludger crossed his path. He clubbed the black ball toward the Slytherin goal, and the opposing Keeper instinctively went for it, clearing the way for Timothy to score.

"And Hufflepuff is out of the hole!" Justin raved. "Thanks to a Great Gretzky Fake-out by Beater Hex Holmstrom, Timothy Derwent was able to tie the score at 70 and put the Yellow and Black Attack back in the game!

"According to the October 2001 issue of Professional Quidditch Illustrated, the Great Gretzky Fake-out was developed by Canadian Beater Wayne Gretzky, who has made the same waves in his part of the world as Mr. Holmstrom has here at—was that the Snitch?" The tiny golden ball zipped quickly around Montague's head before disappearing again. However, that didn't stop Maeve from giving him a good smack upside the back of his head.

"Miss Moondaughter!" Madam Hooch scolded as the Hufflepuffs laughed. "You're not going to catch the Snitch that way! Cup your hand a little next time!"

"Yes, Madam Hooch," Maeve said sweetly.

Justin was staring hard at the pitch, but the Snitch had disappeared again. "FYI, ladies and gentlemen, if Maeve Moondaughter catches the Snitch now, with the score tied at 70, Hufflepuff is in the quidditch final against Gryffindor! …No pressure, of course, Maeve…"

The Hufflepuff Seeker made a face at the commentators' stand as she rose above the action again to survey the area for the Snitch. Malfoy followed suit. "You know, Maeve, if you let me win this game, I might just let you go on living with my family."

"What's this?" Hex asked as he joined Maeve in order to protect her from any Bludgers. "Are you trying to blackmail her into throwing the game, Barf-boy?" He tsked and shook his head, then knocked a passing Bludger away. "Say it ain't so, Joe!"

"I suppose she doesn't need to throw the match," Malfoy replied smugly, "since she won't win, anyway."

Maeve ignored the barb, remaining focused on the task at hand.

Hex sent another Bludger toward a Slytherin Chaser, forcing him to drop the Quaffle. "How are you so sure about that?"

"My dear boy, it is practically a certainty. Hufflepuffs never win anything. They're worker bees — valued more for their backs than their brains. Granted, maybe Diggory was a fl—"

"Moondaughter dives!"

"What the—" Malfoy spun around in time to see Maeve rising back in the air, with a brilliant smile on her face and something clutched in her fist. Madam Hooch's whistle blew.

Below them, the Hufflepuffs went mad, cheering, waving, stomping, crying, hugging each other, gaping in disbelief. "Ladies and gentlemen," Justin announced, his voice hoarse, "Hufflepuff is in the quidditch final!" The scoreboard read Hufflepuff: 220, Slytherin: 70.

"All frickin' RIGHT!!!" Hex whooped, thrusting his arms in the air.

Malfoy glared at the other boy with pure hatred. "You distracted me."

"You distracted yourself," he replied. "Waah waah waah," Hex said mockingly as the Slytherin sped over to argue with Madam Hooch. From the look on the flying teacher's face, she was similarly telling Malfoy that his inability to beat Maeve to the Snitch was his own fault. Hex grinned in satisfaction and went to celebrate with his teammates.

"Who's the idiot now, Malfoy?" Bridget asked the pale Slytherin tartly as Maeve did a lap of honor around the pitch, holding the Snitch high above her head.

"The look on Malfoy's face was priceless!" Ron crowed as they sat in the courtyard a few days later, studying for their Ordinary Wizarding Levels (O.W.L.s), the standard examinations all Hogwarts students took in their fifth year. "Maeve stole the Snitch from right under his snotty little nose!"

"Malfoy always wastes too much time making fun of people to pay attention to the match," Harry said. "It's a particular failing of his."

"Yeah, Barf-boy's a moron, but that's not the only reason why we won that game," Hex reminded them. "Don't forget, Maeve's really good at diving—" he grinned at the girl beside him "—whether she's on her broomstick or not."

"We'll see how good she really is at the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff rematch," Dean said cockily.

"Boys," Hermione broke in, "quidditch is very exciting indeed, but can we get back to studying?"

"But Hermione, you don't need to study," Ron told her. "You've been reviewing since last year!"

"One can never be too prepared," Lisa Turpin, a fifth year Ravenclaw, said in a perfect imitation of Hermione's holier-than-thou voice. Everyone, even Hermione, laughed good-naturedly.

With the O.W.L.s drawing nearer, the fifth years had begun reviewing in earnest. Hex and the other fifth year Hufflepuffs had convened their study group the day after the quidditch match against Slytherin, only to be thrown out of the library by the seventh years who had taken it over to study for their Nasty Exhausting Wizarding Tests (N.E.W.T.s). Displaced, they had joined the fifth year Gryffindors, whom they found studying in the courtyard. The inter-House study group eventually came to include the fifth year Ravenclaws as well.

"What were we studying again?" Hermione asked, deciding that playtime was over and consulting her notes. "Second year Transfiguration, was it?" She was naturally leading most of the study group's discussions, being the smartest witch in the year.

"We haven't even gone through first year Transfiguration," Seamus protested.

"Yes, we have," Lavender informed him, frowning. "Maeve was talking about it just yesterday. Weren't you listening?"

"He was probably looking interested for other reasons," Ernie teased as Maeve turned a fetching shade of pink.

"And how did you know that?" Hannah asked, her blue eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Terry Boot smiled and shook his head at all the lovers' quarrels beginning to erupt around him. "Well, it's obvious that we need to review first year Transfiguration all over again," he said calmly. "Why don't I do the talking?"

"Good idea," Justin told him, grinning. Terry was a wild-haired, scholarly Ravenclaw who had more than his fair share of adolescent acne. "That way, we'll all be able to concentrate on the lesson."