Rated R for swearing, violence, and suicide (and/or suicide-related issues). If this offends anyone, don't read. Thought I'd add that I own nadda. All characters, names and related indicia are property of J.K. Rowling. I am merely trying to share some of her goodness in a non-illegal way. :)

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Chapter 13: Slytherin vs. Gryffindor

It was early morning. The sky was a dark gray and the air was damp with dew as the birds sang their songs through the silence of the waking world. So early that the sun hadn't even rose, and through the dim the mist was creeping and curling around the trees, the hills, the rocks, and the little hut which sat on the edge of the forest, the beginnings of smoke seeping out of the stone chimney as its inhabitant prepared tea. The earth was still.

Severus Snape liked it this way. It was quiet, serene, undisturbed and fresh, as though nature was starting all over again and hadn't known any human habitation before. He always went for walks this early as Hogwarts still slept, grateful for the personal space and time to think that this allowed him. His days were getting so busy and hectic he wondered exactly how it was that he stayed sane, then he'd tell himself that he'd probably gone mental long ago and just hadn't noticed it. Too busy cleaning up Longbottom's melted cauldrons, he guessed with a small sneer.

His boots were soaked with dew as he walked his usual path around Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, his black robes rippling in his wake. Somewhere above him an owl hooted eerily through the fog, and a drop of rain landed on his cheek. He glanced irritably at the sky. Didn't it normally stop raining during the month of October?

He sighed and began to round one of the massive corners of the school. A stretch of faintly visible mountain came into view and he suddenly stopped to pull out a mugwort plant by its root. He could use it later, and he stuck it in a pocket.

The potions master paused again, and looked down once more on a sudden double take. A few feet away from the plant's previous home lay a torn piece of paper, and close beside it, another one. He snatched the two up off the ground and began walking again.

It was a photograph; he registered, upon turning the paper around. He stopped dead and his breath caught in his throat in shock. It was James and Lily Potter, apparently on their wedding day. Lily's hair was done up with flowers...lily's, actually. How bloody ironic. Snape's eyes took on a strange gleam as he saw a young Sirius Black on the other piece, who would have been standing beside the couple, but was cut off from his two friends by the tear in the picture. All were looking very forlorn, and were studying the rip closely. Snape sniggered a little, but very half-heartedly. For some reason he didn't find this funny...he found it disturbing.

Potter.

Snape looked up as though trying to see something directly above him in the sky but there was nothing, except for the astronomy tower, which was hardly viewable in such poor light. What was he looking for, anyway? He had no clue. He glanced down at the photo again and suppressed a shudder. These three people were dead.

He turned around and began stalking back to the school, sticking the tattered bits of photograph into a pocket, suddenly not in the mood to walk anymore.

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"Do we have practice today?"

"Don't think so. I think Angelina gave us the weekend off."

"Brilliant...we've been training non-stop for weeks now."

Ginny took a sip of her hot chocolate and smiled faintly across the table. She didn't know why she was awake this early, and from the look on Harry's face, he wasn't sure either.

She tilted her head to one side, observing him, a small smile playing on her lips. "You know...your eyes are even more green when you're sleepy."

Harry yawned and rested his own head on his hand. He smiled, meeting her gaze. "Haven't heard that one before."

Ginny bowed in her seat.

There were three other people in the Great Hall at the Ravenclaw table. Other than that, Professor Flitwick and Madame Hooch were reading yesterday's copies of The Daily Prophet up at the staff table, large steaming mugs of coffee in front of them. It was oddly quiet in the normally eventful room. The ceiling was misty and gray again and he found that he was beginning to like the cloudy weather.

Harry took a gulp of his hot chocolate and silently blessed whomever it was that had invented it. He looked at Ginny who was chewing thoughtfully on her banana muffin.

"What's on your mind?"

The girl started and met his eyes almost hesitantly for a moment, and shook her head ever so slightly. "It's nothing."

Harry cocked an eyebrow. "Liar."

Ginny rewarded him with a provoked stare and quickly drank deeply from her mug again. Harry glanced amusedly at her and she nervously lowered her eyes.

"Well?"

"Well..." she said slowly. "I'm just thinking...Harry, do you remember that night a few weeks ago when you were sitting alone down in the common room...and I came down 'cause I couldn't sleep..."

Harry's throat tightened. Yes, he certainly did remember it.

Ginny put her hot chocolate down and squashed half of her muffin underneath it. "And you were all fevered and...and you were...I don't know, it was really dodgy, Harry. You wouldn't talk to me. You wouldn't move."

Harry had been expecting this. He reached across the table and lifted Ginny's mug off her muffin for her. "I don't know what it was," he said, although in his mind he had a very good idea. He couldn't afford voicing it to her, though. Not like he didn't trust her...he needed to speak to Snape about it first, however daunting the task may be. He settled for remaining apparently unaware. "I had a weird dream that night and...I was debating on it with myself and...I don't know what it was."

Ginny looked unconvinced and Harry blushed. "But your eyes..." she said quietly, her face changing to a look of utmost seriousness and concern. "They...they changed, Harry. Didn't you feel that?"

Harry gripped his mug tightly. The glamour spell was holding up well, and his knuckles looked unblemished. He really didn't want to lie to Ginny.

"No," he said, almost in a whisper. The girl had to lean in to hear him. "I don't remember anything else...I think I fell asleep or something. Are you sure you weren't hallucinating?"

Ginny looked at him searchingly. "I wasn't hallucinating," she said. "Something happened to you whether you remember it or not. I might have been tired, but that...that was..." She trailed off and picked at her mangled muffin uneasily.

Fuck it. Kill me now, Harry thought. Like she'd really think fondly on him now that she knew he was slowly turning into a replica of Voldemort. He narrowed his eyes painfully and bit his bottom lip. Oh, this was awkward. This was insane. This was...

"Good morning Harry...Ginny."

Harry jumped. Professor Lupin sat down beside Harry with a glass of orange juice and smiled heavy-eyed at the two Gryffindors. Harry could have kissed him for saving him like this. He smiled back at the Marauder and was severely grateful when talk turned to Quidditch and schoolwork instead.

It was still quite early, but a few more students had begun entering the Great Hall for breakfast. Ginny drained the last of her hot chocolate and stood up.

"I should be getting back," she said hurriedly. "The showers...best to get in and out before everyone wants to use them."

Harry and Lupin bade her goodbye and sat in silence until she had disappeared from the room. Lupin turned in his seat to face Harry more. He looked at the boy for a moment, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"We haven't exactly gotten a chance to talk since I arrived here, Harry."

"I know."

Lupin exhaled slowly through his nose and looked around blearily for a moment. Harry noted how pale he was getting. The full moon was approaching, anyway.

"I'm sorry."

Lupin chuckled. "Don't feel bad, Harry," he said, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Everyone's lives are...a little more disrupted this year."

Harry nodded. He took a bite from his long abandoned piece of toast and crunched away on it, the bread suddenly feeling like rubber in his mouth.

Lupin's gray eyes were sad. "I'm sorry I made you duel with Professor Snape," he apologized. "That was ridiculous of me."

The corners of Harry's mouth twitched. "It's no big deal," he replied, forcing the bit of toast down his throat with a difficult swallow. "It was a little while ago. You won't believe what happened after, though..."

Lupin looked at him inquiringly.

"Snape and I started laughing," Harry said. "I didn't know Snape could do that and not die of shock or something..."

Lupin's eyes brightened. "Snape laughed, eh? Perhaps he realized how ludicrous that whole thing was, too. It was a good duel, though, I must say."

Harry grinned. "I wonder what Sirius would..." he stopped talking and looked at his breakfast as though it was suddenly fascinating. Lupin sighed beside him.

"Harry..." the older man said. He paused for a moment and Harry looked at him. Lupin was staring at a wall, his eyes glassed over as though not really seeing it. "I know what you're thinking, Harry."

"You do?"

"I do. And it's not your fault."

Harry gasped. His eyes filled with pain and he whispered, "Why are you saying this?"

"Because it's true," Lupin replied softly, putting a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "Nobody holds anything against you, Harry. This is not your fault."

Harry murmured painfully, trying to make sound around the lump that was forming in his throat.

The Great Hall was steadily filling up with students and Ron and Hermione had just emerged and were heading their way.

"We will talk later, Harry," Lupin said thickly, standing up.

"Sure."

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"No, no, Dean...it does up the other way."

Ron hastily rushed over to the new Beater's aid and helped him with a last- minute robe adjustment. Dean had the buttons all done up on the wrong clasps and he was holding his broom shakily, very green in the face.

"Thanks," he gasped after Ron finished while the redhead quickly resumed his position in the mouth of the opening that led from the dressing rooms to the Quidditch pitch. Ron gave him a quick thumbs up and the Gryffindor team waited anxiously to be called.

"Don't worry mate," Ron said encouragingly. "You'll be brilliant!"

The crowd outside was making a great deal of noise. Harry could just make out the waving of red flags all over the Gryffindor end of the pitch and he took a deep, calming breath to steady himself. Ron hadn't spoken to him all day and he couldn't figure out why. It was bugging him.

Harry couldn't wait to get out into the air. His morning had taken quite the unpleasant turn, but hopefully with the game his mood would improve. Flying always did that to him, no matter what. He couldn't help but smile to himself as his excitement overtook him.

"OK," Angelina said over her shoulder from her place ahead of Harry. "I think Lee's about to call us all out now. Good game everyone!" She smiled brightly at them.

"And here are the Gryffindor's!" came Lee's booming voice as the team shouldered their brooms and began running out onto the pitch.

Harry sprinted forwards clutching his Firebolt and squinted as a blast of sunlight bathed him and the crowd roared madly in his ears.

"Johnson, Spinnet, Bell, Thomas, Weasley, Weasley and Potter! We all welcome the two new Beaters to the team, promising new talent right here for the first game!"

The Gryffindor team stood on the pitch as Lee proceeded to call out the Slytherins.

"And here's the opposition, the Slytherin team! Bletchley, Montague, Warrington, Pucey, Crabbe, Goyle and Malfoy!"

Deafening booing erupted through the crowds and the Slytherin end hissed and jeered loudly. Harry locked eyes with Malfoy as the green-robed players made their way out onto the pitch and smirked.

Madame Hooch strode out to the teams carrying the Quaffle under her arm. Angelina and Montague stood a few feet apart, their eyes sending daggers into one another.

"Captains, shake hands!"

Angelina and Montague shook - or rather, crushed - each other's fingers as Madame Hooch met them and gave the signal to Lee.

"Team, mount your brooms! And a fair game, now!"

Harry mounted his broom and saw, out of the corner of his eye, that Dean looked positively nauseous. Ginny on the other hand, was braced and staring defiantly at the Slytherin Beaters, her club clutched tightly in her gloved hand.

Madame Hooch blew her whistle and threw the Quaffle up into the air. Fourteen people kicked off from the ground and the bludgers and Snitch were let loose. Ron zoomed off towards the goal hoops and Harry's eyes followed the tiny, glittering ball as it flew swiftly off towards the Slytherin end.

"And it's Bell, Bell with the Quaffle, tearing up the pitch like wildfire!" Lee was shouting into the roaring crowd as the teams went into action. The wind whipped through Harry's hair and he laughed out loud as his spirits soared. His worries and faults were shattered as he sped off after the Golden Snitch, catching the shimmer off its wings as the sun hit it.

A bludger whizzed by him, narrowly missing hitting the tail of his broom, and Harry was veered off-course. Crabbe guffawed from somewhere behind him and in the lapse of time it took for this to happen, the Snitch had vanished. Malfoy didn't seem to be tailing it, however, and Harry zoomed off around, squinting his eyes in search.

Suddenly there came a tidal wave of noise as the Gryffindor supporters were screaming their delight, and an excited Lee Jordan was yelling, "SHE SCORES! TEN - ZERO FOR GRYFFINDOR! My, that was quick!"

Harry grinned and looked round at Katie, who was smiling broadly and slapping Ginny a high-five.

"Your bloody girlfriend's on the team now, is she Potter?" came Malfoy's jeer in his ear.

Harry looked at the blond boy and shrugged. "Apparently...I mean, she's flying around with a Beater's club in her hands, but I could be wrong..."

Malfoy's lip curled and Harry sped off towards the Gryffindor goal hoops, passing Dean on the way.

"All right?" Harry yelled.

"I'm doing OK!" Dean hollered back, smiling. "This is great!"

"And it's Warrington with the Quaffle," Lee was bellowing. "Warrington of Slytherin flying across the pitch! Come on now, Beaters, show us what you're made of!"

Harry's breath caught in his throat and he stared hard at Ron. The Snitch was fluttering just underneath his left foot. Looking around swiftly, he spotted Malfoy a little ways off, whose attention was fixed the other way. Harry took his chance and put on a burst of speed.

Ron caught sight of Harry barreling towards him and just sat there, his eyes wide in shock as the crowd gasped and Lee cried out, "Oh my!"

Just stay still, Harry thought to Ron. Please just stay put...

Ron panicked and lowered himself to make room for Harry to zoom by, meanwhile knocking the Snitch out from under him with his broom and sending the tiny ball zooming away again. Harry almost collided with the redhead and was forced to veer into a sharp circle to avoid knocking the boy over.

The crowd groaned all around them and Harry threw Ron a frustrated look before muttering, "Sorry," and flying off in the direction of the Snitch.

"Too bad, Potter," Lee said, his voice booming over the pitch. "Oh, nice bludger work there from Weasley! Spinnet has intercepted! Spinnet of Gryff - never mind, it's Pucey with the Quaffle! Ah...scratch that, it's Spinnet once more! Spinnet of Gryffindor in possession who passes it to Johnson - "

A furious cry erupted from the crowds and the Slytherins all hissed and cheered wildly. McGonagall was standing in the risers, hair escaping from her bun, waving and yelling furiously at Adrian Pucey, who had punched Angelina on the side of the head and had grabbed the Quaffle from her hands.

Madame Hooch's whistle sounded.

"PENALTY!" the crowd roared.

"Penalty!" Madame Hooch echoed, meeting the Gryffindor captain in the air and checking to see if she was OK. "And this soon into the game, too! Horrible tactics, I must say!"

Angelina nodded to show that she was all right and was prepared to take the penalty shot, her eyes ablaze with anger. Harry wrenched his gaze away and shook his head for clarity, and flew all around the pitch, keeping his eyes peeled for any signs of a flash of gold...

Judging by the crowd's reaction a moment later, Angelina hadn't managed to score.

"Scar face!" Malfoy yelled as Harry passed him again. Harry rolled his eyes.

"She's fumbled the shot, but it's still a ten - zero lead for Gryffindor!" Lee shouted into the air as the game once more resumed play. "And it's Montague with the Quaffle! Montague of Slytherin heading towards Gryffindor!"

A sparkle of gold. Harry looked, craning his neck...and fell back disappointedly. It was only Goyle's watch.

"Come on Weasley, you can do it...aahhh...Slytherin scores! Ten - ten tie between Slytherin and Gryffindor! Bad luck, Ron."

"Weasley was born in a bin,

He always lets the Quaffle in,

Weasley will make sure we win,

Weasley is our King..."

Malfoy was laughing madly. Ginny hit a bludger furiously and sent it hurtling at him, forcing the blond boy to dive out of its way.

"Spinnet passes the Quaffle to Bell - dodges a bludger from Crabbe - and reverse passes it back to Spinnet! Spinnet of Gryffindor in possession - oh, she's been hit by a bludger from Goyle and the Quaffle falls to Pucey! Oh, nice bludger work by Thomas! That's a bludger to the head from Thomas and Pucey drops the Quaffle - caught by Johnson of Gryffindor and she's zooming up the pitch towards Bletchley!"

The crowd gasped and shrieked as the Quaffle was caught and dropped in rapid succession. Ginny and Dean were excellent Beaters, and made it hard for Slytherin to stay in possession for long.

Lee was thinking along the same lines. "Smashing work done by Weasley and Thomas of Gryffindor!" he hollered excitedly. "Montague dodges a nice bludger from Thomas and Johnson still in possession...she's at Bletchley...YES! ANGELINA JOHNSON SCORES, TWENTY - TEN FOR GRYFFINDOR!"

The Gryffindor supporters were going mad. Luna's lion hat roared spectacularly above the noise and, laughing, Harry went on a wide lap of the pitch and passed Montague, who glared murderously at him. Harry saluted and kept going.

"Aaaaand its Warrington with the Quaffle! Warrington passes to Montague who heads towards Gryffindor! Oh, what a nice bludger from Weasley and the Quaffle is dropped - caught by Pucey of Slytherin! Spinnet intervenes - never mind - Spinnet hit by a bludger and Pucey charges up the Gryffindor end!"

Harry wasn't having much luck, and judging by the frustrated expression on Malfoy's face, he wasn't either. He desperately looked around the Slytherin goal hoops but saw nothing, and decided to circle the pitch once more.

"Ron Weasley of Gryffindor in for a save...ohhhhh!"

The crowd groaned again and the Slytherin end exploded with snake-like hisses. "Slytherin scores! Twenty - twenty tie!"

Harry was forced to roll in mid-air to avoid a bludger from Crabbe that he hadn't seen coming, due to him watching Ron at the goal hoops. He snarled and rose a few feet higher to let Dean in underneath him to smack the bludger off towards Montague, who was tailing Katie Bell.

"Gryffindor in possession! Whoops, Pucey now in possession - I hope that bludger didn't do any serious damage, Katie - PUCEY FEINTS AND SLYTHERIN SCORES! That's thirty - twenty for Slytherin! Come on, Gryffindor, you can do better!"

"JORDAN!" McGonagall shouted warningly. "What did I say about being biased?"

The Gryffindor crowd was jeering madly at the Slytherin end, who were all singing "Weasley is our King" as though trying to drown out the commentary. Ron's ears had turned bright red and his brow was furrowed in frustration.

"Looks like your precious Weasley friend is rubbish after all," Malfoy sneered, pulling up beside Harry on his broom. "Make sure to thank him for me when we win!"

Harry grinned suddenly. Malfoy's expression changed to mingled smugness and uncertainty for a moment.

"Yeah?" Harry said, his emerald eyes sparkling. His fist snatched out in a blur of swiftness into the air a little behind Malfoy's head and Harry brought the struggling Snitch around and held it very close to Malfoy's face. "I dunno...this looks like a Snitch to me..."

"He's caught it!" Katie was screaming. "Harry's caught the Snitch!"

Madame Hooch's whistle sounded shrilly and Lee Jordan was yelling. "POTTER'S CAUGHT THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WINS, ONE-HUNDRED-AND-SEVENTY TO THIRTY! Wow, and right from under Malfoy's nose, too!"

The Gryffindor team was flying at Harry in the air and they all collided in a mass of tangled robes and broomsticks, laughing and sinking slowly back to earth.

Harry couldn't see anything for the amount of bodies pressing up against him and he laughed as he grabbed the collar of Ron's Quidditch robes and held him there, restraining him from leaving. "Good game, mate," Harry said into his ear.

The Gryffindor's were screaming and clapping and making a good deal of noise, and there was so much confusion and crowding that no one saw the bludger coming until it was too late. A second later, Ginny was hit fiercely on the back and she was flung onto the ground in a heap of scarlet robes.

"GOYLE!"

Ron rounded on the boy, who lurked about five feet in the air on his broom. He furiously pulled out his wand and was about to curse him when Katie and Alicia grabbed his wrists and held him back.

"No!" Katie was saying shrilly. "Don't...let Hooch deal with him!"

"Is Ginny OK?"

"I dunno...oh, sorry Harry...she's over here, Ron..."

Ginny was getting to her feet, but she was forced to hunch as she stood, and her face was contorted with pain. "What the fucking bleeding hell was that all about?!"

"It was Goyle," Angelina said angrily, looking over her shoulder as Madame Hooch escorted him off the field by his ear. "Looks like he'll be serving detention tonight..."

"Ginny, are you all right?" Ron asked. Ginny nodded and smiled.

"Oh Ron...Quidditch is brilliant!" she suddenly raved excitedly, hanging onto her brother for support. "I had so much fun...Dean! Where's Dean? Oh there you are...wasn't that bloody fantastic?"

Harry felt a tap on his shoulder and he turned around to see Oliver Wood standing there, beaming at him proudly, looking taller and much more fit than when he'd seen him last.

"Hey, Harry!" he said fondly, ruffling his already horribly messy hair. "Great catch! I almost laughed myself silly when it happened!"

Harry smiled at him. "Wow, Oliver...it's been ages! How's Puddlemere United?"

"Smashing!" Wood said happily, adjusting his dark crimson robes and pulling the collar up against the chill. "Absolutely brilliant. Training is harsh, but it's great. You know, Harry, if you wanted to get into the league, I know a few people who'd be willing to have a look at you."

Angelina caught sight of Oliver and shrieked, then flung herself at him in a giant hug. Harry grinned and mouthed to Wood that he'd talk to him later, and picked up his Firebolt and followed Ron into the changing rooms.

Ron was moodily pulling his Quidditch robes over his head when Harry got in, and didn't say anything to him. Harry watched for a moment as Ron struggled with them, but the opening for his head didn't seem to be big enough to let him free and so he remained stationary for a long moment, wrestling furiously with the fabric. Harry took pity on him and went over to help.

"Hold still, Ron, the buttons are still done up," Harry said, undoing a few so that Ron could get away.

"Thanks," Ron said grudgingly, eyeing Harry with severe dislike. Harry was taken aback.

"What's the matter?"

Ron threw down his robes so they landed in a heap on the floor and rounded on Harry. "What's wrong? What's wrong?! I'll...I'll fucking tell you what's wrong!" He sat down on the bench and put his head in his hands.

Harry's mouth hung open and he stared at the redhead before sinking down onto the bench beside him. "Ron...did I do something?"

"Oh god, Harry," Ron moaned. "It's what I didn't do. I'm horrible at this! Every time we play I feel like such a coot...all I do is sit there and let Slytherin score. I look like a prize idiot."

Something in Harry's short-term memory was jogged at his choice of words, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He sighed and looked at Ron. "It's all right," he said. "Nobody's holding anything against you, mate. You're still a good Keeper, you've just got to take your confidence up a few notches and you'll be brilliant."

Ron met Harry's gaze. "I will, huh?"

"Bloody hell yes, Ron, I've seen you during practice."

Ron sighed and wiped his eyes. Harry's heart sunk for him. "Harry, do you think Hermione likes me?"

Harry choked. He stared, wide-eyed, at Ron and cleared his throat. That had been fucking unexpected. "Hermione?"

"Yeah," Ron replied, picking up his robes and stuffing them in his cupboard. "Well...do you think I'd have a chance with her, then?"

Harry realized his mouth was hanging open again. He quickly clamped it shut and smiled. "I don't see why not," he said, pulling off his own robes and folding them. Ron's face brightened.

"You honestly think so."

Harry thought. "Yeah," he said. "I mean, the way you two fight all the time...you already sound like a married couple."

Ron blushed and Harry laughed.

At that moment Oliver and the team poured into the changing room, all chattering excitedly and Harry had never felt so good in a long while.

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Thanks to everyone who's reviewing my story! I'm typing away like a madman, so I'll have more chapters up ASAP. Thanks again!! :)