Author's note: Great fight scene ahead! I might need help on deciding what to do at the end, but I'm sure you'll suggest ideas and your opinions. I'm grateful for the reviews I've gotten, you all made my day! ;) Chapter 8 should be up soon, if I can make up my mind on how to make the plot go. Okay! Here it is!

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The cool September air twirled around Harry like a cyclone. The sun was just rising in the distance and not even Peeves the Poltergeist had awoken, which led Harry to wonder why on earth Professor McGonagall had called him to the quidditch field the night before at dinner. She gave no clue to what Harry would be doing there or why she even called for him to be there. All she said was this:

            "Meet me on the quidditch field at five o'clock sharp, Potter. You'd better not be late."

            As the quidditch field grew closer and closer, so did the shadow of Professor McGonagall, marching back and forth like a mechanical army man. She looked up saw Harry and smiled. Harry breathed in deeply. At least he was not in trouble.

            "Good to see you on time for once, Mr. Potter.'

            "Same to you, Professor McGonagall. But would you mind if I asked you just what on earth we're doing here at five o'clock I the morning? What could not wait until about noon? It is after all, a Saturday."

            "Yes, the first Saturday in September. You know what this means, don't you, Mr. Potter?"

            "No, what?" Harry asked, now scratching his nose, because he now noticed a broomstick from behind Professor McGonagall's back.

            "Oh, tell me you're joking! Quidditch try-outs are being held this weekend, Potter! And, now that about a third of the quidditch team has left, including the quidditch captain, we're in need of a team. Which is why I call you here today."

            Professor McGonagall handed Harry the broomstick from behind her back. Surely it was not what he thought it was –but there it was- a Firebolt 1000. Harry stood gaping at the broomstick, not even lifting a hand to touch it, as if it were a gift sent from heaven. Professor McGonagall smiled after seeing the expression on Harry's face.

            "Along with this broomstick, Mr. Potter, I give to you the position of Gryffindor quidditch captain. The responsibility of the team is now bestowed unto you, along with my blessings. I can only ask one thing of you."

            "What would that be?"

            "Get Gryffindor the quidditch cup. There will be sheets posted all around the Gryffindor common area. I'm hoping that your name alone will bring out some of the greatest Gryffindor quidditch team since-your father."

            Harry smiled and took the broomstick, still amazed and shocked as ever. After finally composing himself, he found the courage to ask Professor McGonagall one question.

            "How did you know I'd accept?"

            "Potter, what fool wouldn't accept the offer of a Firebolt 1000? Now, go back to bed. Try-outs begin at 10:00 sharp and I expect you here by at least 9:30."

            "Yes Professor McGonagall! Yes Ma'am!"

            Harry ran back to his dormitory beaming, unable to go back to sleep.

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            Scipio awoke early the next morning, for some reason, he felt he had to; both Ron and Harry had left him asleep and gone down to breakfast. Muttering silently, Scipio made his way to the bathroom, hair strung all over his very sullen and moody face and emerged a perky well groomed young man, throwing himself out of the dormitory and out into the breakfast hall, where he was surrounded by flyers of many colors. Flyers of green and scarlet stood out more than the other two colors. Wondering to himself, Scipio made his way to a scarlet flyer and picked one up. There, on the sheet, was Harry, diving for a snitch most beautifully, making a single handed catch. Underneath was a message:

            Try-out for Gryffindor quidditch with Harry Potter today at 10:00 am on the quidditch field! Positions available: Beaters (2) and Chasers (2). Hurry and reserve yourself a position on the team!

            Scipio smiled and jauntily strode over to the Slytherin table where he was met with open hostility. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle looked up and unsuccessfully held back what was an unmistakable gagging noise. Malfoy looked up and smiled, however.

            "What do you want, Gryffindor Cousin?"

            "Not much, Slytherin Cousin. I just wanted to know if we were still up for buying my broom next Hogsmeade weekend."

            "That's next Saturday, why would you need it so soon, pray tell?"

            "Because by then, I'll be on the Gryffindor Quidditch team."

            Silence hung in the air and stares were exchanged from Malfoy and Scipio.

            "You're trying out for Potter's team?"

            Malfy, Crabbe and Goyle laughed hysterically, pretending to almost hit the ground in their laughing fit.

            "Yes. I can't try out for your team, now can I?"

            "Well, if you insist upon being the laughing stock of the school, let me ask what position you play."

            "I can play any position, I prefer to play keeper, but that position is taken already."

            Malfoy made out what seemed to be an undeniable grin of malice.

            "There's absolutely nothing holding you back from that position, Scipio."

            "There most certainly is, it seems to be taken."

            "No, Potter's just waiting to replace someone on the team who can't play: even if there was a galleon prize depending on it, and that says a lot."

            Pansy Parkinson and others now joined in the chorus of laughter.  Scipio was under the impression he had their approval for some odd reason and he didn't like it. Still, Draco said the position was open for somebody better than there already was, he had to steal the opportunity.

            "Well, I'll need to borrow your broom then, Draco."

            "Borrow? If you take that position, I'll let you keep my broom and buy you another broom in addition!"

            More Slytherins joined in the chorus of laughter. Feeling this was a time to go, Scipio retreated to the Gryffindor able, where Harry, Ron and Hermione sat.

            "Hey guys! Harry! You didn't tell me you were quidditch caption for Gryffindor! I want to try-out today!"

            "Are you any good? I'm going to see some really bad ones today, Scip, and I can't stand the aggravation. The way it looks so far, I can get you in for a try-out around noon, my block is full. Can you do that?"

            "I can do that and more!" Scipio announced sitting next to Hermione who was now picking up her books. Instantaneously, all three boys asked the same question at the same time.

            "Where are you going?"

            "It's a Saturday, Hermione!" Harry bellowed, trying to reason with her.

            "Tell me you're not going-!" Ron began.

            "To the library, yes. I want to study extra hard for a test on Friday in Muggle Studies." Hermione finished.

            "Hermione, that's ridiculous! First, you're a muggle-born! Second, it's a Saturday, the test is on a Friday! That's six weeks!" Harry spat, clearly on the brink of annoyance.

            "And time is still ticking away, Ron. You boys go about your quidditch and whatnot. I'll be in the library, should Scipio make the team or break his neck."

            "What about me?" Ron asked, hurtfully.

            "If you're hurt, I'll come out in a few hours to make sure you're dead." Hermione said, lifting herself from her seat and walking of towards the library.

            The three boys watched her leave and smiled to themselves, purely unaware that they were all having the same thoughts: I'd gladly trade places with one of Hermione's books any day.

            "So Harry, twelve you say?"

            "Yes, right before I go to lunch. Ron and the rest of the team will be there as well, in case you're worried about nerves."

            "Oh now Harry, you know me by now! The more people there are to impress, the better I am."

            "Scipio, are you always that sickly charming?"

            "I do it for-"

"Yes, we know-"

"The ladies."

            All three boys laughed and helped themselves to seconds on breakfast.

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            Harry was very leased with himself. Today, he'd found what seemed to be at least 3 good beaters and two good chasers. Wood and Angela would have been proud, not to mention Fred and George, who closed their shop for lunch just to watch the try-outs.

            "Bloody good day, isn't it Harry?"

            "Yeah, and the players aren't that bad either!"

            "You'd wonder where all these people have been hiding all this time!"

            "Probably away form you two, you were rather-"

            "Intimidating?"

            "Malicious?"

            "Mischievous?"

            Frightening?"

            "And the list goes on and on, you two."

            Just then, Scipio walked onto the field, reluctantly being trailed by Malfoy and a gang of Slytherin sixth years. Harry shook his head, feeling sorry for Scipio. He had to live with the git and probably now put up with the string of teases coming next. But surprisingly, Malfoy handed Scipio his broom and the Slytherins sat off under a tree, watching, laughing and muttering.

            "What are they here for?" Ron spat out at Scipio.

            "I needed a broom and Malfoy said I could borrow his. I didn't expect to be trailed out here, if that's what you mean."

            "You could have borrowed my broom, Scipio, all you had to do was ask. But that's no problem; you're the last try-out of the morning. What position?"

            "Keeper."

            "You can't have that position, that's-" Ron began.

            "Somebody else's position, I know, Draco told me. But what if I was better than that person, you know what I mean?" Scipio added at Harry, winking.

            Harry saw Ron's face turn a shade of red that would have made his hair blush. He looked over at Malfoy and understood now: Malfoy wanted Scipio to take Ron's position just for the fun of it, and Scipio had no idea that this was Ron's position. Not wanting to be too obvious yet to the Slytherins, Harry told Scipio to mount his broom. Ron was furious.

            "You can't do that, Harry! That's my position!" Ron muttered angrily.

            "Don't you see why the Slytherins are here now, Ron?"

            "No, probably just to ensure that Scipio gets my position!"

            "I'll tell you afterwards then, but in the meantime, remain calm."

            Scipio mounted his broom and as soon as Harry had blown the whistle, her was off at the rings, gliding though the air with greatest of ease. When Harry blew his whistle, Fred and George beat balls towards the rings.

            Scipio must have been superhuman, because the way he blocked every single ball was unnatural. He would block a ball and send it flying, and return to his calm stature as if it was the easiest thing he'd ever done. Blocking every single ball that Fred and George blocked had to be a feat and even the Slytherins looked up in astonishment. When it was all over, claps erupted from the Slytherins as well as some the Gryffindor members. Harry tried to maintain a straight face, but he was astounded. He couldn't have expected what had come next though.

            Ron had flung himself onto Scipio, pounding punches after punches and Scipio, who was a great deal taller and stronger, returned the heavy blows. He boys were on the ground when Fred and George came to break them up. Ron had a black eye and Scipio a bloody nose and lip. Harry stood in fear of what the two might say after they realized what had happened.

            "You-no-good thief! That's my position!"

            "Well obviously you couldn't have kept it up so good because you're the one beating me up for giving a spectacular performance!"

            "Spectacular? Ha! My sister can keep better than that!"

            "Hey!" Ginny announced, both angry and surprised that Ron would put her in this.

            "I think we'll let Harry be the judge of that, won't we, Harry?"

            Harry stood frozen in place. He was in the worst predicament he'd ever been in between his two friends. He couldn't deny that Scipio was a great deal better a keeper than Ron, but the position was Ron's. Maybe he would have given it over before, he didn't much like the position anyway, but after Scipio's words and spectacular playing, he'd not see to it that Scipio was even put on the team.

            "Harry? What do you say to all of this?"

            "I need to think for a moment, you two are sickening. I'm not even sure if I want to play quidditch captain for a team of thieves and barbarians who fight like drunken sailors!"

            Harry stormed off leaving Ron and Scipio at each other's throats with only Fred and George between them. He made a beeline for Malfoy under the trees.

            "You! You told Scipio he could try out for Ron's position, didn't you?"

            "Well, you needn't fuss, Harry, we both know Scipio's ten times better than on. Or are you just blinded by friendship with the Weasel?"

            "I would beat the crap out of you, but there's been enough bloodshed on the quidditch field today. I hope you're happy, Malfoy. This is your dream come true, isn't it? You're such a spoiled self-absorbed little prat! I almost feel sorry fro your father!"

            Malfoy flung himself on Harry and they rolled in the ground, pulling each other's hair and exchanging powerful blows to the head and gut. Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape came over to break up the fights. After weighing the injuries carefully, they sent the boys to the informatory without lecture and got everyone off the field, with the exception of the Gryffindors and Slytherins who'd seen the fights. When Professor McGonagall came in moments later, she held a scowl on her lips, annoyed.

            "I have heard what has happened and what I say is this: you made asses of yourselves!"

            Ron, Scipio and Harry jumped at hearing Professor McGonagall curse. Malfoy only smiled.

            "I have figured out how this whole incident occurred, Mr. Malfoy and I regret to say you've been let off the hook. Had you been in Gryffindor, I would have banned you from quidditch permanently. But for you three who are in my house, a month's detention with a decision from you, Harry."

            "What decision, Professor McGonagall?"

            "Who gets the position of keeper and the one who gets the boot."

            "What? No! I can't do that! They don't know how this started, it wouldn't be an issue! It was Malfoy's doings, Professor! You can't have me choose like this!"

            "I'm afraid you must, Harry, unless things can be resolved here."

            Professor McGonagall strode out of the room and left Harry storming mad.

            "You three are so insolent and so . . .sickening! My life would have been better of if I hadn't known any of you! Ron and Scipio, you've fallen for the stupidest trick in the book! Malfoy wanted you two to have a brawl, which is why I asked you to remain calm when Scipio tried out, Ron! Scipio, you listened to your evil conniving cousin and your own thick skull when Draco told you that position was available! I know you read the flyers! I honestly don't know what to do now! If it were between me, I'd kick both of you off! But I'll trust when we get out of here, this thing will die easy. Am I right?"

            "Yeah."

            "Whatever."

            Harry turned to his side and grunted. Of all the topics he couldn't handle, he got stuck with the category of between friends and quidditch.

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            Author's note: I don't know what's ahead, but I figure it'll be good. Stay tuned and don't forget to review!