A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews ^_^. I probably should write a longer chapter, but I'm being lazy. If you can help me with a better title or summary (or give me any constructive criticism!) I will love you forever.

"Well. The brilliant Hermione Granger is fighting? Tut tut," said Draco Malfoy.

"I'm not fighting. I'm trying to get these students to stop fighting," Hermione replied stubbornly.

"Drawn, yet you speak of peace? Don't take me for a fool," the Slytherin said laughingly. "Not only are you repugnant, you're hypocritical." With that, he stepped back, drew his wand and attacked her with Pervalidus Frigus.

Hermione ducked. What is that idiot doing now? She turned around and headed for the Headmaster's office and . . . ran into a solid wall. Blast. Draco had managed to back her into a corner. With no options left, she faced her attacker and fought back.

Soon the rest of Gryffindor and Slytherin awoke and joined in the fight. Ron was absolutely furious when he saw Draco; he grabbed the blonde by both shoulders and practically hurled him across the hall. They were soon engaged in a rather brutal fistfight.

Hermione, after Ron had started fighting Malfoy, was 'attacked' by a group of Slytherin first-years. They didn't really want to fight, but thought it would be best to show house spirit and it might be a good way to practise spells. The Gryffindor Prefect hid a smile and humoured them; blocking their spells and the last minute so it looked like they were winning and Hermione didn't actually get hurt.

But, in the mess of broken furniture, fistfights, duels, injured students, Gryffindor, Slytherins and irate Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs futilely trying to break up the fights, Harry Potter never showed. How Malfoy managed to smirk and inform Ron of this coldly through a split lip, broken nose, black eye and a rather large collection of bruises, we'll never know.

All of this continued until about eight o'clock. Then a single word rang through the hall.

"Stop."

The battling students hushed instantly, broke off their fights and turned to see Dumbledore.

"Put your wands away," the Headmaster said, his blue eyes now steel. "This entire school and I have had enough of your childish fights. The next people fighting will be expelled." Dumbledore paused and made sure this sunk in. "You will all receive detention, no exceptions. Gryffindors today, Slytherins tomorrow. Prefects stay here, those of you that are injured, follow Madame Pomfrey. The rest of you are dismissed for breakfast."

Ron walked toward the Great Hall, cradling his sprained wrist. Yes, he was injured, but there was no way in hell he was going to let Malfoy have the pleasure of seeing him in the infirmary. Wonder if he'll try to do the same. That'd be funny, the prat pretending he was fine with a black eye and broken nose, no less! Ron snorted. More likely he's wailing about it to Dumbledore.

"He could have killed me! That maniac attacked me without any reason. I fought back, but that was self-defence. It's not fair that we get the same punishment!" the slender Slytherin whined.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Mister Malfoy, I'm sorry, but there were simply too many fights. We cannot single out students; it would take much too long. You will have to take the detention with the rest of your classmates. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to speak with Caretaker Filch."

Draco grumbled some more, but let the Headmaster pass and walked toward the Great Hall. He was starving.

Angelina Johnson was going insane. Her most important player was nowhere in sight, the rest of the team was still getting together and they needed to be practising now. She spotted a Weasley and, since all three boys were on the team and Ginny was a reserve chaser, grabbed the back of their robes and whirled them around.

"Ron. Have you seen Harry? I didn't see him in the fight, I hope he wasn't there, he wasn't injured was he? The match tomorrow is absolutely vital, he's going to need a very graceful catch, we're going to be playing a mostly defensive game tomorrow, we don't want to look like we're disrespectful to Cedric but we still need to win, you should be out there too, where is everybody else? Oh, I'm so wo—"

"Angie dearest," Ron cut her off sarcastically, "there's this thing called breathing. No, seriously, calm down. It's going to be fine. You're an excellent captain. I'll find Harry, take care of a minor problem," he said glancing at his wrist, "and we'll be out on the pitch ten minutes tops. Alright?"

"Right," Angelina said, taking a deep breath. "I'll go find your brothers."

Ron clambered through the portrait hole and spotted a bushy-haired someone behind a pile of books.

"Hermione, do you know how to fix sprained wrists?"

"Yes." Hermione looked at him suspiciously. "Why?"

Ron held up the limb in question.

"Ron! You were supposed to go to Madame Pomfrey if you were hurt!"

"Please?"

"Oh, alright," Hermione sighed and continued more sternly, "but you shouldn't have gotten into the fight in the first place. I can take care of myself. Come here."

"Of course you can." Ron said, walking up to her. "But you were going to just duel with him. Malfoy deserved to have his head beaten in."

Hermione hid a smile and quickly did the charm. "There."

Ron flexed his wrist and grinned at his friend. "Amazing. Thanks!" Then he remembered what Angelina had told him. "Do you know where Harry is?"

"Um," Hermione said, looking up from one of her million books, "I think he's up in your dormitory."

"Right." Ron started up the stairs.

"Harry, you in there?"

"Yeah. What is it?" Harry said in a deadened tone.

"Quidditch practise, mate. C'mon."

"Oh. Right. Let me grab my broom," came the rather melancholy reply.

Ron looked at Harry rather curiously as they trudged down the steps together, but didn't say anything to him.

"Hermione, come watch the practise."

"I'm studying."

"It's the weekend."

"What better time to study?"

"Oh, come on."

Hermione rolled her eyes but allowed herself to be dragged along besides Ron and behind the silent Harry.

A/N: Please review.