(A/N: Ashley, I hope I get published one day too! That would be wicked cool. You can be my publisher, how about it? Haha. Thanks everyone, for the great reviews. Crazay, I'm glad that my grammar is still good, and the spelling. I make stupid mistakes all the time because I am usually up at about… oh… five writing these and then I just post it, so I appreciate you looking out for those darned errors. Carl: Rupert is bloody brilliant, is he not? Hehehe. Read on my fellow fellow-types.)

Kate ran a bit further that night and her lungs didn't scream in pain. Her head spun a bit as she collapsed against the castle wall, but she felt pretty good. Her breathing was certainly heavy and her heart-rate elevated, but that was how it was meant to be.

"Ascendo," she whispered. With a small breezy noise, she was sucked back into the common room. She quickly did her exercises before showering. Humming "Kissed by a Rose," she rinsed her hair then emerged into the bathroom to dry herself. She donned her robes and pocketed her wand before leaving. After she got back into the common room, she jumped and cried out softly.

"Ah!" There was a burly fifth year sitting on the sofa, leaning over complex notes and lists in a would-be focused sort of way. She recognized him vaguely, having seen him before. He was the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. His name slipped her mind at the moment. "What are you doing here?"

He rubbed his eyes, looking drawn and sleepy. "I'm not sure."

"Scratch that," Kate shook her head, "how long have you been here?"

"Um…" he checked his watch, "five minutes."

"Oh." Kate was greatly relieved. At least he wouldn't know why she'd been up. She just hoped he wouldn't be making a habit of getting up early. "Okay." She sat down in a squashy red chair and pulled out her Potions homework to finish it.

"How long have you been up?" He asked, barely looking at her and stifling a yawn.

Kate shrugged. "Longer than five minutes."

"Oh." They didn't speak anymore, which was uncharacteristic for Kate, but she was focused on a few things. What if people started getting up early and found out what she was up to? And what the heck was the word she had written on the third line?

Mushroom, you dunderhead.

Brushing her hair back a bit, she found it nearly reached her earlobes now. At least it was getting longer, but her face still felt round as the full moon.

Morning came and found the Gryffindors descending, yawning and complaining about the brightness of the sun. It was the first Saturday of term. The Quidditch captain was off of his sofa and scouting out his teammates to see if they were still playing or whatever it was Quidditch captains had to talk about. Harry and Ron were the first 1st years to come down and so she left for breakfast with them.

The great hall, as usual, was attacked by owls with the morning mail. Kate remembered suddenly that she had written a note to her parents. She didn't know how to get it to them.

"Harry," she started, "how do I send an owl to my parents?" Kate showed him a folded piece of parchment that was properly addressed.

"Here, give it to Hedwig, she'll take it for you." Harry said, stroking his snowy white pet.

Kate handed the letter to Harry, who attached it to the dutiful Hedwig. Her leg was stuck out and she stood patiently waiting for him to finish.

"How does she know where to go?" Kate asked, as Hedwig flew off.

"It's the mystery of the owl." Ron shrugged, spooning some porridge into his mouth.

"Oh." Kate swallowed the rest of her milk and took an apple from the fruit pile. "Ouch," she started picking at her tooth, "I hate when the skin gets caught there. It digs into the gum and it never comes out." She pulled it out successfully.

Harry and Ron looked at her and laughed.

"That wasn't too lady-like, was it?" She was steadily turning crimson as the apple she held in her hand. "I have a plan. And it's a plan of action." She used a slicing charm with her wand and cut the apple into eight neat sections.

"…of course, my father thinks it's a shame that first years can't play on the team, what with my talents on a broomstick…." Draco Malfoy's drawl drifted over to them as he walked by, surrounded by an unsightly gang of Slytherins. "Oh, it's Potter. Still worried about Potions? You do stink, don't you?"

Harry turned red and Ron to match him. Kate sighed.

"Don't bother with him." She said to them as Malfoy walked by, laughing. "What will come of it?" Harry and Ron glared at her, though she knew the glares were really meant for Malfoy. "Wait until you've got something really good on him. It will be so much more fun that way." She finished. The boys nodded, grudgingly accepting her words of wisdom, but already fantasizing about wringing Malfoy's neck.

Sunday night brought Kate into the common room after a shower to find the Quidditch captain again sitting up and staring at a piece of parchment. She had no homework to do. She could have read a textbook, but she wasn't much in the mood, so she decided to look at what he was doing.

It was a piece of paper with six hoops on it, three on either side. Fourteen players covered the field, represented by color-coded broomsticks based on position. They wriggled about as the fifth year poked them with his wand and shook his head.

"Quidditch plans?" She asked quietly, to show that she wasn't trying to be annoying.

"Yeah, but… I really need the season to start. I wish practice would start sooner." He frowned deeply. "Such a pain, all this waiting."

"Looks it." Kate stared at the parchment in wonder, intrigued by the moving figures. Magic still amazed her, even though she was in a school that taught the subject. "Do the plans help?"

The boy thought for a moment, "I'm not sure. I figure it's worth a shot."

"True."

He leaned back into the couch and exhaled, puffing his cheeks out. "Dunno. Oh well." He looked up at Kate as though she had only just gotten there. "Who are you?"

"Kate Slate." She introduced herself.

"Oh, I'm Oliver Wood." He smiled at her in a sort of forced way. She grinned uncertainly back at him, afraid she was annoying him. Not only was he older but he was a lot bigger than she was. Though, she didn't think he would hit a girl, but just in case. His smile became authentic after hers appeared.

Me and my jolly cheeks, she thought somewhat miserably, eager for the moment that they disappeared forever.

"What are you doing up so early, anyway?" He asked curiously.

"Getting a shower and avoiding the rush," half truths worked, she decided.

"That's not a bad plan." His eyebrows rose as though he had never thought of such a thing.

"I agree with you on that one." Kate winked. "How long have you been playing Quidditch for?"

"Since before I came to Hogwarts. My uncle played for Puddlemere United."

"That's pretty cool." Kate nodded. "What position do you play?"

"Keeper." He responded. "Do you play Quidditch?"

"Nope. I'm Muggle born and am only a tennis player, if you've heard of it."

"I think I have. It's a French sport, right?"

"Yes."

"I've never seen it."

"You're missing out."

Oliver shrugged. "I like Quidditch, so I'm all right."

"It's not against the law to like more than one sport." She suppressed a smile.

He laughed. "I guess not." He changed subjects. "Where are you from? Your accent isn't one I know."

"I'm from the States," she admitted. "Are you Irish?"

"Welsh." He shook his head. "In the States they like that game Quodpot, right?"

"Um, I think that's what the book said."

"That's right, I forgot, you're Muggle-born."

"Oui"

"Do you have any interest in Quidditch?" He asked, stuck to the subject like it was the air that he breathed.

"Yeah. I'm pretty eager to see a match."

"Good." He beamed at her. She couldn't help laughing. "D'you know the sport at all?"

"A little." She shrugged. His face lit up and he went about explaining everything high and low about the game to her. She loved watching his eyes and arms, because they seemed so alive as he elucidated the game to her. When the first bleary-eyed students came down the stairs, he was still on about the game, but onto complex moves like the Wronski Feint and the Starfish and Stick.

"It's really called the Woollongong Shimmy? I can't believe such a name is allowed."

He grinned at her, and then caught a glimpse of his watch as students crowded the common room.

"We should get to breakfast."

"Yeah. Not a bad plan."

They walked down together and she asked him more about the finer points that she had been vaguely confused on and whether or not his teammates used such tactics.

"Well, I'd like them to. The thing is they're not simple. But I guess that's good."

"The Wronski Feint would be fun. Can your Seeker do it?"

"We don't have a Seeker right now. No one's tried out for awhile. Our reserve Seeker isn't any good, better at being a Beater, and even that's a stretch. I'm hoping this year's try-outs turn out better players than last year's."

Kate shrugged. "It may."

Thursday afternoon found the first years outside for their first ever flying lesson… alongside the all-spited Slytherins. Even Kate was beginning to have troubles with them. She wasn't thinking about them, though; Kate was watching Hermione, who was now the color of old porridge and was still muttering to Neville what she had learned from Quidditch Through the Ages. Neville was twiddling his Rememberall nervously between his fingers. It was still a misty crimson, indicating that he had forgotten something. His grandmother had sent it to him just that morning. The Monday prior, Kate had gotten a long letter from her parents about how life was at home and how proud they were of her. Apparently Meghan was making quite the group of friends. Her parents had found out how to get into Diagon Alley on their own and had bought more books on magic so they could help her when they got home. They had met a few families in the neighborhood: the Danby's, the Lenhardt's, and the Dursley's. The Slate's were quite happy to have found so many friends in the neighborhood. Kate hadn't written home yet, but wasn't planning on mentioning that Harry was related to the Dursley's. Mentioning Harry might put an unnecessary damper on things.

It was a cool, crisp day and the wind held the promise of winter. The grass was still green, but soon would be yellow as grass about to be covered in snow. Kate stared at the dark forest that was forbidden to students and wondered what dangerous things lurked in its depths. Kate's attention wandered back to the twenty or so broomsticks lying on the ground. They were battered and the twigs stuck out at odd angles. Kate stood between Harry and Ron, who were watching Malfoy with a sour look on their faces as he boasted about a time that he narrowly escaped a Muggle helicopter from seeing him. Kate noticed that a lot of Malfoy's flying stories ended similarly.

"The wizard version of driving, and we're only eleven." She grinned at Harry. "When do people start driving in England, sixteen like in America?"

"Eighteen, in our area." Harry said.

"Oh." Kate pushed a tendril of hair behind her ear as the wind blew it in front of her glasses.

A yellow-eyed woman with short, gray hair marched out to the lawns. A whistle dangled at her chest catching the sunlight as it bounced with her every step. Her name was Madam Hooch.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" She barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

People that didn't already have a broom ran to stand by one.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," she instructed, "and say 'Up!'"

"UP!" Kate cried in unison with the rest of the class. The broom shot into her hand, a little overeager, like she was. She looked around and saw that over half the class had failed at this endeavor. Harry had succeeded perfectly and Ron got it on his second shot. Hermione's broom had barely twitched and Neville's hadn't moved an inch. Malfoy had also succeeded and was smirking in a self-satisfied way that made Kate sick to her stomach.

Madam Hooch showed them how to mount their brooms and how to stay on. She showed them a grip which reminded Kate of how to hold a tennis racket. Madam Hooch moved up and down the rows correcting grips.

"Well, Mister Malfoy, you've been doing it wrong for years then."

Malfoy turned a pretty shade of pink. Kate, Ron and Harry grinned unrestrainedly at one another.

"Now, when I blow my whistle," she looked around meaningfully at the students, "you kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle- three- two-."

"Ah!" Neville squeaked as his broom rose uncontrollably into the air.

"Come back, boy!"

Neville looked terrified, white faced and trembling, as he rose higher and higher, tilting slightly forward and he jerked himself back, to the side. He was slipping. He gasped audibly and fell sideways off his broom.

WHAM! There was a thud and a crack that indicated that Neville had broken something. Kate ran instinctively forward, a look of concern etched into her freckled face. The round-faced boy lay face-down in the grass, heaped over his arms as though afraid to move. Kate fell onto her knees and felt his back to see if he was breathing. Madam Hooch ran over to Neville, her face white as his had been.

"Help me get him up, won't you?"

Kate touched Neville's shoulder gingerly and helped him to sit up. His face was red with tears and his lips trembled. His wrist was in a terrible way.

"Broken wrist," Madam Hooch muttered, "Come on, boy- it's all right, up you get." She was trying to be gentle. She looked back to the rest of the class. "None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.'" She lifted Neville to his feet. "Come on, dear."

Neville hiccupped and was on his way. Kate stood reluctantly from the ground, watching Neville as he went. They retreated into the castle and Malfoy spoke up.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?"

The other Slytherins started up as well.

"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" Pansy Parkinson, an unattractive Slytherin girl teased. "Never though you'd like fat cry-babies, Parvati."

"You know, even if you don't like someone very much, you can still feel sympathy for them." Kate spat, growing steadily furious at the cruel Slytherins. Even her friend, Blaise was smirking, standing close to Malfoy as though wanting his praise. She caught his eye, glaring angrily. Blaise blushed and looked down.

"Look!" Malfoy grabbed something out of the grass and everyone went silent to pay attention to him. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

The Rememberall glittered for all to see.

"Give that here, Malfoy," Harry said quietly, stepping forward.

Kate felt her heart leap in an unexpected way.

Malfoy smirked.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find- how about- up a tree?"

"Give it here!" Harry yelled. To everyone's surprise, Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. Kate was surprised to see that Malfoy could actually fly well. Draco floated above a large oak tree and smiled nastily down at them.

"Come and get it, Potter!"

Harry grabbed his broom.

"No!" Hermione Granger squealed. "Madam Hooch told us not to move- you'll get us all into trouble!"

Kate didn't think that mattered at the moment. She was more worried that Harry's anger would make him lose. She wanted for him to win more than anything.

Hermione continued to protest but stopped when everyone saw the boy fly through the air without trouble. Kate gasped in awe along with the rest of the girls. Ron whooped admiringly. Harry turned sharply to face Malfoy. Malfoy's face was priceless as he stared in shock at his unpracticed opponent.

"Give it here," Harry called, "or I'll knock you off that broom!"

Kate clasped her hands together hopefully.

"Oh, yeah?" Malfoy was looking a bit frightened.

Harry zoomed forward and nearly knocked Malfoy down, but he only just avoided the danger.

Kate raised her hands and started clapping wildly for her friend.

"Sic 'im Harry!" Ron called, jumping up. Kate saw Crabbe and Goyle looking confused out of the corner of her eye.

"Catch it if you can, then!" Malfoy shouted. He threw the Rememberall high into the air and it plummeted towards earth, and with an uncanny speed, Harry chased it. Kate felt her heart race as though she thought Harry were about to die. There was no way-

Harry did it! He pulled up just in time and rolled onto the grass with the Rememberall in hand just as a furious Professor McGonagall ran outside.

"Never-" Professor McGonagall strode onto the field, eyes narrowed into angry slits, "in all my time at Hogwarts…. How dare you- might have broken your neck!"

"It wasn't his fault, Professor!"

"Be quiet, Miss Patil-"

"But Malfoy-"

"That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now."

Harry gave a droopy look to Ron and Kate before leaving. He trudged after McGonagall looking as though his life had just ended.

"Oh no," Kate breathed.

"That wasn't fair." Ron agreed.

"He… he broke the rules." Hermione said, as though this made everything better.

"Hermione, just this once," Kate started, breaking Ron off before he could say something awful, "can't you accept that the rules deserved to be broken?"

Hermione looked speechless.

Madam Hooch returned to the field and had them continue their flying lesson.

Afterwards, Kate felt she would have enjoyed it much more if she hadn't felt she'd never see Harry at Hogwarts again.