I know, this was a quick update compared to what I've been doing recently, but hey. I got sudden inspiration. So much, in fact, that I wrote a whole chapter of RtG in one night! But it hasn't been beta'ed yet, so don't get your hopes up.

And don't worry... James' foot isn't broken anymore... I can't believe I forgot that, thank you so much!

"Are you ready?" Harry asked as he watched Draco strap on his Quidditch boots. The Slytherin raised an eyebrow, pausing.

"When am I not?"

"When you've just woken up?" Harry suggested innocently. Draco gave him a wry smile and bent over his boots again. Harry picked up his broom and looked it over.

"Don't you try and sabotage it before my match," Draco accused without looking up.

"I'm not!" Harry protested. "I was just wondering if you wanted to use my broom."

"What's wrong with mine?"

"Well nothing. It's just that mine's the latest Firebolt model, and probably quite a bit better than this old Nimbus."

"I seem to remember that when I first got that, you were still riding an old Nimbus 2000, and continued to use it until third year. So don't lecture me on brooms."

"Come on, Draco, you know you want to… the Firebolt 42… Moon won't shut up for the whole match. You'll be the star of the pitch…"

Draco finished with his boots and stood up suddenly. Harry stepped back as his boyfriend folded his arms crossly.

"You just love to torment me, don't you?" he asked irritably. Harry grinned.

"Love it almost as much as you."

"Go get it then," he sighed in a defeated manner and waved his hand as a dismissal.

Harry kissed him on the cheek and hurried up to the Tower. His foot was still slightly sore from where Seamus had broken it, but Pomfrey's Skele-Gro had, of course, sorted it in a jiffy - even if he had retched whilst taking the potion. A few people gave him suspicious looks as he walked through the common room with his Firebolt clutched in his gloved hand.

"Where do you think you're going, Antares?" Ron snarled as he passed him. Harry sighed and paused before the portrait hole.

"To fly around the pitch during the match and distract everyone with my immense sex appeal, thus causing Slytherin to win as their Seeker appears completely immune to my sex appeal. Why do you ask?" he said sarcastically. For a moment Ron looked as though he might believe him, but then his face clouded over.

"What are you really doing?"

"It's not really any of your business, but if you must know, I'm lending my broom to Draco so that the match is in the bag. Happy now?"

"That's not allowed!" Ron protested. "Ravenclaw won't stand a chance!"

"I think you'll find that there's nothing at all in the rules that says you can't borrow someone else's broom. It's just not normally one for Gryffindors to help Slytherins, is it? Now, close you mouth or a talent scout will grab you for a part in a musical about fish."

Harry slammed the Fat Lady shut behind him. She squawked in annoyance.

"Sorry," he sighed, sitting down on the floor beside her. "It's just that all the Gryffindors seem to hate me. Except maybe Neville, and the younger ones."

"I'm sure it's just a phase. They'll get over it," she said kindly.

"I don't think so," Harry said sadly. He stood up and walked down to the dungeons. Draco was emerging in his Quidditch robes, looked flustered.

"I was wondering where you got to," he said, taking the broom off Harry. "You were taking ages."

"I had a little argument with Ron,"

"That Weasley ought to be locked up. He's a menace."

"It doesn't matter. I'll get over it."

"Good."

Draco took Harry's hand and he felt a slight surge of magic sifting beneath the material of their gloves, trying to get out and join, but not able. So instead it tickled the palms of their hands. They walked out of the Entrance Hall and out across the grounds. Few people gave them a second glance – it was by now common knowledge that they were together.

"Do you think you can win?" Harry asked as they strode across the grass. Draco snorted.

"Of course. We can beat any team now. The Gryffindors, frankly, are crap now they don't have you. The Weasley female is far from the same league."

"Are you complimenting my Seeking skills?"

"Don't act as though I've never said anything nice about you in my life," Draco replied huffily. "I do it all the time."

"Yes, you do," Harry agreed. "Especially when we're in bed."

"Don't say that so loud!" Draco hissed, scanning the surrounding people to see if they had heard. Harry grinned mischievously, and received a punch to his shoulder for his efforts.

"Let's change the subject then." He suggested brightly.

"It's too early for you to be so energetic." Draco grumbled.

"You've never complained before." Harry replied innocently. Draco choked.

"Stop doing that!"

"Now I don't often hear you saying that…"

Harry shut up rather quickly as Draco's hand covered his mouth, the Slytherin glancing around wildly, and then when satisfied that nobody was giving them funny looks, turned on Harry with a hiss.

"If you don't stop twisting every last thing I say, I'll take my bracelet off. Then you'll be stuck as how to get down to the dungeons on a night."

In reply, Harry stuck his tongue out and licked Draco's palm. With a growl, Draco removed his hand and replaced it with his lips. Harry smiled and wrapped his arms around Draco, letting out a small whimper of annoyance when his boyfriend pulled away.

"Now stop it!" he whispered. Harry bit his lip to stop himself replying and nodded mutely. Draco took Harry's hand again and they carried on down to the Quidditch pitch.

"And they're off!"

Harry wrapped his Cloak around himself and silently climbed the stairs up to the teacher's stands. Higher than the rest of them, it would be a perfect place to watch Draco. After all, he didn't really want to sit with the Gryffindors, and besides, everyone would be confused if he was cheering the Slytherins on – even if he was shagging one of them. Gryffindors supporting Slytherin just didn't happen,

Harry emerged onto the stands as Moon finished her description of the Ravenclaw team. He caught sight of Cho's face and had to say that it was amusing. She looked ready to kill the Hufflepuff. The Slytherins took the opportunity to score whilst the Ravenclaws glared at Moon.

After the incident in Dumbledore's office, they had deduced that someone in the school had Cho under Imperio. Although Snape had been particularly eager to have her put on trial, Dumbledore had decided that she had been acting against her will and no punishment was inflicted.

"Ten points to Slytherin!" Moon announced over the megaphone. Harry grinned and scanned the pitch. Draco was doing the same, fifty feet up in the air. Cho had recovered from her mood and was tailing the Slytherin relentlessly. Suddenly, Harry spotted a flash of gold at the Ravenclaw end. With a quick calculation, he realised that if Draco caught it now, they'd still be behind – Ravenclaw had won the matches against Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. Slytherin needed to be at least fifty points up. He pressed the sapphire and ruby on his bracelet. He bent his head and whispered into it.

"The Snitch is at the Ravenclaw goalposts. Draw her away."

Up in the air, Draco had paused and raised his hand to his face in the pretence of scratching his hair. He nodded, something that nobody else would have understood, and suddenly shot off towards the Forest. Cho followed as fast as she could. Harry smiled to himself.

"Did you hear that?"

Harry froze as Snape turned slowly to stare at him. Or at least, the place where he was standing. Sinistra turned too.

"Hear what?"

"It sounded like something hissing something. But nobody's there. Pity."

"Why is it a pity?"

"Because students aren't allowed up here. If one were to be caught, he would probably get a detention there and then. That would have been enjoyable to administer." Snape sneered. Harry swallowed. Obviously Snape knew he was there. So why wasn't he doing anything?

"Another ten points to Slytherin!"

Harry edged away from the Potions Master and moved to the side of the stands where he could see better. Draco and Cho still hadn't reappeared from the Forest.

"The Slytherins have to win by at least two hundred points if they want to win when they go up against Gryffindor later on. But by how Gryffindor have been playing lately, I don't think they should have too much trouble – Weasley seems to have messed up when choosing people to fill positions this year. Or is it just that Gryffindor haven't got all that much to offer? From what I've been told, James Antares had potential, but Weasley took him off the team. What was the boy thinking?"

Harry bit his lip to stop himself sniggering. He could see Ron's red hair from across the Quidditch pitch and from what he could see, he looked furious. Wrapping his Cloak more tightly around himself, he leaned over the stands and peered out towards the Forest. Squinting, he saw a stream of black shoot into the Forest through the trees.

"FOUL!"

Harry snapped his head back to watch the game. Apparently Belcher had grabbed a Ravenclaw Chaser's broom to prevent him from scoring. Terry Boot took the penalty – and missed. The Quaffle slipped down and the Slytherin Chasers put it neatly through a hoop at the other end.

"Slytherin are on forty points to nil – they only need one more goal, then if Malfoy gets the Snitch they've got a chance against Gryffindor!"

Harry prayed that they would hurry up so Draco would come out of the Forest. He pressed the stones again.

"Draco, come out. You'll be needed in a minute. Slytherin only need one more goal, then you're on." He whispered. He waited for a response, but got none. Then suddenly a crackling came through, and a scream. Then it stopped.

For a split second, Harry considered going to Draco via the bracelet. But then sense demolished the idea, as he reasoned that he could end up coming through to the place where Draco had been a second ago and end up falling down a hole. Merlin knows what could happen in the Forest.

"Slytherin score!"

Harry was about to alert Dumbledore of Draco's absence when out of the Forest came a rather fast green and silver blur followed by a stream of black. But no – it wasn't a stream of black, it was a flock of crows, hell-bent on getting to Malfoy. The Seeker shot in all manner of dangerous and almost impossible moves, streaking around, in, and through the other teams. The spectators screamed when the realised what was happening. Dumbledore was on his feet in an instant.

At every twist and turn Draco took, the moved with equal ferocity and speed. It looked as though he was getting desperate. Harry pressed the stones again, this time not caring who heard him.

"Use my magic!" he yelled, and then pressed all three together.

He felt as though his body had been drained; he felt completely empty and strangely light. Before he blacked out, he saw Draco raise his hand, then a blinding light, then darkness.

At this point, I run out of things to say... apart from the fact that I now hate touching electrical appliances as I get an electric shock every time I do. I blame Newlands!

Reviews very welcome and much appreciated.

Your fees, and I leave you...

smokey

has a new friend - Horus!