Harry and Ron walked down to the quidditch pitch at 3 o'clock, brooms shouldered, discussing their first History of Magic lesson for the sixth year. They reached the pitch, and Ron almost snatched the Firebolt when Harry offered it to him, ecstatic in his joy of getting another ride on it. Harry wandered into the captains office, and took an old quaffle, signing his name on the 'equipment borrowing' book, scribbling 'Harry Potter, Gryffindor, Quaffle 7' and jogged out to get a school broom. He and Ron kicked off, soaring up above the stands, the wind rushing through their hair. This was where Harry belonged, soaring up through the air. Ron broke off over to the goalposts, rolling his shoulders and warming up. Harry shot towards him, riding a Comet Two Sixty, the same as Cho's. He threw the quaffle as hard as he could at the right goalpost, and, surprise surprise, Ron missed it, this time a dive with arms outstretched, the quaffle soaring belatedly through them. This continued for the next hour until Angelina came down to the pitch and called them down. Harry quickly jogged into the captain's office and signed the quaffle back in and got changed into his robes. "Right team, this is it, game on tomorrow, and according to Harry, Malfoy has..." "Broken his arm" Harry continued. "Yeah, we noticed" said Fred Weasley, Ron's older brother.