DISCLAIMER: I would just like assure you that your reviews make a huge difference to the quality of the story. All together now...I don't own Harry Potter, JKR does. If you feel you need to flame, please do. I find them amusing. Hell, just enjoy!

When Professor McGonagall arrived 5 minutes later, nobody had moved much. Harry was still standing at the top of the stairs, Ron was still unconscious on the floor and the crowd was still buzzing round the casualty, not really knowing what to do.

McGonagall addressed the crowd.

'What happened?'

'Potter pushed him, Professor!' That wasn't on, thought Harry.

'Come off it, he fell!' he retorted. He didn't know why he bothered, McGonagall still beckoned to him and led him out of the common room, passing Madam Pomfrey on the way out. She led him all the way down to her office, where she held the door open for him then strode round her desk to face him.

'Sit.' He sat. 'You will write down exactly what happened,' –she placed a piece of parchment in front of him, it had the Hogwarts crest at the top- 'I will be back in five minutes.'

When she returned as promised, Harry had written exactly what had happened-all two lines of it. By the look on Professor McGonagall's face, she had expected more than that. She took a pinch of Floo powder from the pot on her desk and cast it into her fire.

'Potter's statement, Headmaster.' She said as she handed the parchment into the flames. 'Because of the nature of this attack, I feel that Potter cannot be trusted with other students at this time.'

Dumbledore's voice answered;

'I agree Professor, a letter will be sent to his home. Please isolate him for now.'

Harry felt helpless; he hadn't meant for Ron to fall, but nobody seemed to care. Everyone was treating him as "dangerous". He was led to a room halfway up the astronomy tower.

'I'm sorry Potter, but we have to follow school rules in situations like these.' Said Professor McGonagall, for it was she who had led him to this room. 'Wait here.' Then he was left alone. He heard the door lock. It wasn't fair, why was everyone being so...so...argh! Harry lost his temper like he had never done before. Tables and chairs went flying, some hit walls and smashed.

He was nearly out of things to break when the door opened behind him. Harry stood in the middle of the destruction, looking lethally at Dumbledore, Cornelius Fudge and a tall man with long jet-black hair. The man surveyed the room with one glance and turned to Dumbledore;

'Proves my point, Dumbledore! I don't want this boy at school with my son.' He said in a sharp malicious voice.

'If you have a problem with the school, Mr Zabini, you are perfectly entitled to make an official complaint. At this very moment, however, that is slightly impossible. Good morning, Mr Zabini.' Replied Dumbledore, with his contrasting quiet nevertheless energetic voice. Mr Zabini looked highly affronted, turned on his heel and stalked off.

'He has got a point though, Dumbledore.' said Fudge.

'Cornelius, please remember that you are here on my invitation. Don't give me reason to ask you to leave too.' –He turned to Harry- 'This is one of the reasons why I put you in close proximity to Draco Malfoy. I expected an incident like this-'

'It was an ACCIDENT!'

'Either way, young Master Malfoy has an excellent method of controlling his anger. I was hoping he would pass it on. He might yet, but this particular incident is now outside his control; we must follow school rules.'

'You will remain in isolation until Mr Weasley regains consciousness, he will then confirm or deny your statement. If it truly was an accident, no more action will be taken. If he decides to accuse you, I will explain further proceedings at that point.' Harry was at a loss for words.

'So how long will that be?' he asked.

'Madam Pomfrey says no more than twenty-four hours.'

'He's in the hospital wing, then? I mean, he's not in St Mungo's?' That was something, at least it wasn't that serious.

'He is. I must go now, Harry. Oh,-' he handed Harry a golden plate '-I do apologise, I nearly forgot. If you wish to eat tonight, you will need that plate. Please do not destroy it or-' he glanced over Harry's shoulder '-frisbee it out the window.' Harry saw the old twinkle in the headmaster's eyes and smiled.

'I won't, sir.'

Harry's day crawled by slowly, and Harry, like at the beginning of last year, alternated between states of extreme lethargy and being so pissed off it hurt.

The sun was high in the sky and Harry was lying sprawled across a table when his lunch appeared on the golden plate next to him. As he ate, he was sure he heard a light tapping on the door.

'Hello?'

'Harry, it's me.'

'Draco! What the fuck're you doin' ere?'

'Later. Do you have a plate from the Great Hall?'

'Yeah, what's goin' on Draco?'

'How d'you get into the kitchens?'

Harry told him.

'Cool, gotta go.'

'Wait! I ain't spoken to anyone all day!' but Draco was gone.

Darkness had fallen when, as Harry had almost given up hope, his dinner magically appeared. The wall was pockmarked, where Harry had spent all day sending random spells at it. He was just tucking in to his shepherd's pie when he noticed a small roll of parchment on his plate. It had a slightly familiar, seeping quality to it, and read:

"Hey Harry! I'm using the same magical link as the house-elves to send up food to the plates in the Great Hall. I'm in the kitchens now, so you can answer on the parchment and I'll get it when the elves recall the leftovers.

Wassup anyway? Everyone says you blasted Weasley through a door, then threw him down some stairs. No-one seems to know why, though. He's apparently still in the hospital wing recovering.

Please reply, unfortunately I can't use the link again till tomorrow, so I'll speak to you when you get out.

Draco"

Harry had written his reply by the time he had finished eating;

"Hey Draco, doesn't life suck?

You know how rumours go and no, I didn't do anything of the sort. Ron Reductored the door, and then when he tried to have a go at me he fell down the stairs.

Tell me if Ron comes out of the hospital wing,

Harry"

He returned to his worries, and destroying the wall.

A squashy purple sleeping bag appeared later, and, having nothing to do, Harry went straight to bed.

The door opening was what woke Harry up next morning. He looked drearily at the figure in the doorway and then put his glasses on.

'What're ya doin' up here?' It was Ron

'Ron! Oh thank god.'

'Come on, Breakfast!'

They sprinted down to the Great hall, both laughing about the shit Harry was nearly in. Just before they reached the Entrance Hall, Ron stopped Harry.

'This doesn't mean I've forgotten about Malfoy, but there's a time and a place.'

'Cheers Ron. I'll tell you I swear.'

'Yeah, yeah. Can I eat now?'

But as they entered the Great Hall, it became apparent that Ron was more forgiving than the rest of the school. Most did nothing to hide their hostility, and a great roar went up and they passed the Slytherin table. They were congratulating Harry on nearly killing Ron, and seemed to think it was hilarious. A flash of silver-blonde hair was visible, laughing with the rest, then it was gone. In fact, all through breakfast the Hall was full of a sort of angry buzzing noise – not that Harry cared. He was just standing up when the post arrived. After glancing up and not seeing a speck of white among the mass, Harry turned to leave – that was until an official-looking owl landed on his shoulder. He took off the parchment and the owl took flight immediately.

"Dear Mr H Potter

Congratulations, you have been selected as Team Captain for Gryffindor House Quidditch Team. Please note that the position of Chaser (x2) needs to be filled before your first match, which is on the 1st of November. Tryouts will be held at your discretion, please see Madam Hooch for booking of the Quidditch Pitch.

Head of Gryffindor House,

Minerva McGonagall"

Harry and Ron exchanged looks.

'"Captain and Seeker" eh?' said Ron.

'Yeah...' Harry was still trying to register the information.

'Sounds good, suits you.' Harry looked at him, it was starting to sink in.

'Cheers.'

'If I were you, I'd kick Kirke and Sloper off and have tryouts for new beaters, too. I wouldn't be surprised if you kicked me off as well.'

'Oh, stop it, you ain't goin' nowhere.' He didn't have time for Ron's sorrow, he was Quidditch Captain. A grin slowly spread across his face. He felt good, he was QUIDDITCH CAPTAIN! He was invincible, nothing could stop him. He was on top of the world, he was the BEST.

'Where's 'Mione? I wanna tell her.'

'You know what? I haven't seen her since Saturday.' said Ron looking worried.

'I'm sure she's fine.' said Harry. Nothing could bring him down from this feeling just yet.

'Yeah, okay. Come on, Charms.'

It was long since dark when Harry finished. He had been busy since the end of lessons doing homework, and writing up posters for tryouts. He had taken Ron's advice and opened up the Beater slots too. Ron was worried, Hermione had not been seen since Saturday. He was on the point of going to Professor McGonagall when Hermione herself climbed through the portrait hole. Ron was first to her.

''Mione! Where the fuck have you been?'

'What? Oh, nowhere. Hermione was always a bad liar. She looked very tired.

Well, there it is! Thanks to: lothmeldo, yummyguitars and Kellie Mclean for the reviews so far.

PLEASE: If you read it, why not review it? I need lots of peeps to readreview so that i can improve - good, bad, I don't care. So if you want me to improve, or you just wanna see your name posted up, REVIEW MY FUCKING FIC!