Harry's training began immediately the next day. He was called by Flint to skip meals, and spend most of his free time on the Quidditch field, rather than on homework. His teachers were beginning to notice the slip in his work, despite Harry's most desperate attempts to keep up. Some of them sympathized with his workload, and since he was still pulling good grades and turning in his homework regularly, didn't bother him about it. But others, such as McGonagall and Snape, were less accepting of lower quality of work he was handing in. McGonagall, unsurprisingly, simply seemed unwilling to accept any work that was obviously less than his best for a good grade. She also seemed distant towards Harry, now. She obviously knew about his new position on the Slytherin Quidditch team, and seemed unwilling to forgive him entirely for daring to compete against Gryffindor. But any spite she harbored due to his new founds talent, she attempted to overcome or hide. Snape was another story. Harry's position on his team seemed to be almost more than he could endure. If he had hated Harry before, it was almost impossible to tell what it had progressed to at this point. But it wasn't just anger that was tearing at Snape. He seemed torn between cheering for his team and bad-mouthing Harry. He wanted Slytherin to win...the case for the trophy in his office proved that. But how could he possibly want Harry to win and be happy or good at doing anything?
Harry made his way to the Quidditch field without exactly knowing how he felt about the whole deal. Originally, he had just been excited for the chance to fly, again. But now...well, he wasn't sure if it was worth it. Every relationship he had worked to build seemed to be stressed by the added weight of intra-school rivalry. Harry was beginning to understand just how fickle his friendships were. Sean, Olga, and Patricia were still talking to him, although not quite as much as before. Harry tried to tell himself that it was just because the swing of the school year was underway, and work was overwhelming. After all, he told himself, they were in a higher year than him, he had to remember that. But he knew that couldn't be all of why he was being slightly ignored, deep down. He could tell that they were angry with him for associating with Flint. Harry was angry with himself, even but sometimes that best thing for yourself required making acquaintances where you'd rather not.
As soon as he was back on a broom, though, all his reservations about joining the Slytherin team seemed to have stuck to the ground. Here he was, flying fast, and nothing evil or angry could catch up with him.