Since I haven't got the next chapter written, I decided to post this now and then work out the next chapter over the next week. This is me being optimistic though, I can't promise anything. Feel privileged that you've got two chapters in as many days.

"James?"

Harry looked up from his Potions essay as Neville stuck his head around the dormitory door. He set his quill down and turned his focus to the round-faced boy.

"Yes?"

"Ron wants you downstairs. Says it's kind of important."

"Tell him to come and get me himself." Harry replied coldly, taking up his quill again and dipping it in the well. He heard Neville leave, and various hushed whispers from the common room down the stairs. After a few minutes, heavier, more awkward footsteps sounded on the stone stairs. Harry was aware of Ron's presence, but chose to ignore it and continued blithely with his essay until Ron cleared his throat.

"Yes?"

"I'll get straight to the point." Ron said briskly, striding over to Harry's desk and standing beside it. Harry looked up at him.

"You'd better hurry up then. It might escape."

"Look, this isn't easy for me to ask, so stop making it harder!" Ron snapped angrily Harry raised his eyebrow and leaned back in his chair. "We, that is, the Quidditch team have spent the time since our last match deciding on whether to change the team around or not. In short, we've decided that we should. And we want you to play Seeker."

Harry's eyebrows disappeared into his mop of hair.

"You're a bit late asking, aren't you?" he asked incredulously. Ron shifted nervously.

"We think you're our best chance of beating Slytherin. They've got a really strong team this year, and ours… it's seen better days. Believe me," his expression hardened. "I wouldn't be asking if we had any other choice. But it's become obvious that we need extra help to keep the Cup. So there's your choice. Play for us or don't. It's up to you, but we, as a team, hope that you agree. The match is on Friday afternoon, so I need an answer Friday morning at latest."

"I'll do it." Harry said immediately, to Ron's shock.

"You will? Just like that?"

"Yes. I think it'll be fun to play a bit of competitive Quidditch. All this just flying around is getting boring."

Ron stared at him.

"We are playing against Slytherin, you know." He said slowly. "And Malfoy's Seeker. Don't you two have a sort of… thing going on?"

"Not at the moment, no," he replied smoothly, and Ron at least had the sense not to ask more.

"Good. Well, don't say anything. You're going to be our secret weapon. Don't let anybody else see you fly either. We want it to be a surprise." He gazed at Harry for a while. "So yeah. Friday afternoon. Don't miss it." He finished, and went back downstairs, where the buzz of chatter paused briefly as Ron relayed the information, then came back louder as they discussed it. Harry smiled to himself and bent his head over his essay. His bracelet sat shining on his bedside table.

The shock on Draco's face when he walked out onto the pitch in full Gryffindor Quidditch robes was priceless. He physically stopped in his tracks in shock, mouth open and eyes staring. He wasn't the only one.

"It appears that Captain Ron Weasley has been shuffling his team around and has actually recruited James Antares to replace Ginny Weasley as Seeker! This really is a shock for Slytherin, who were probably just expecting the old formation. Just look at Malfoy's face!" Moon yelled gleefully as Draco walked numbly across the pitch to shake hands with a rather smug-looking Ron.

"Mount your brooms. No cheating."

Harry saw Ron roll his eyes at Dean, who gave him a thumbs-up. Harry swung his leg over his broom and waited for the whistle.

"And they're off!"

Ten minutes in and Harry had seen neither hide nor hair of the Snitch. He had, however, noticed that Draco still wore the bracelet around his wrist. He surreptitiously slipped off his gloves, hiding them in his Quidditch robes as he hovered high above the crowds and other players. Dean scored against a rather distracted Bletchley, and Harry swept downward to avoid a Bludger as it rocketed his way. Malfoy kept on sending him quick glances in between searching for the Snitch, and he was sorely tempted to hit him around the head. But a brief flash of gold in the corner of his eye, and he hauled the Firebolt 42 around sharply and shooting after the Snitch as it swerved and dodged around the players, moving up towards the sky.

"James Antares has seen the Snitch!" he heard Moon calling, but blocked out the noise, concentrating instead on the small ball just out of his reach. Throwing all reservations aside, he reached deeper inside of him, pulling out the powerful magic that he knew was simmering just below the surface, anticipating his call, pushing through the magical block that Dumbledore had put on him to reach out and reel in the Snitch…

"FOUL!"

Harry hurtled off course as Malfoy slammed into his side, and his concentration broke, the Snitch disappearing once again into the sky. He righted himself and swerved around to where Malfoy was hovering.

"What the hell are you doing?" he roared, advancing upon the Slytherin captain, who stood his ground firmly.

"You were cheating." He said simply. Harry scoffed.

"Since when does that matter to you?" he snarled. Malfoy sneered at him.

"It doesn't. But Harry Potter would never have done something like that."

"I'M NOT HARRY POTTER!" Harry bellowed, and half the players stopped playing to stare at them both, glaring daggers at each other from three feet. Malfoy lowered his voice considerably.

"Oh yes you are. You're Harry Potter whether you like it or not. Whether I like it or not. There might be only a few people who know who you are, but they do know." He moved closer to Harry. The Gryffindor's glare intensified, but he didn't back off. "I know that you are Harry Potter, and I still love you."

With lightning reflexes, Harry's right hand shot out and grabbed him around the throat. Magic sparked between them as he tightened his grip as the other players carried on with the game.

"Don't push me, Malfoy." He snarled viciously. Malfoy simply sat there, not moving.

"I'm not trying to. I just want you to play as you normally would. Don't lose yourself because of something that I said!" he hissed. Harry pushed a small amount of magic through his scar, and Malfoy grunted in pain as it seared his skin.

"Don't be so self-centred." Harry spat. "This has nothing to do with you!"

"What is it then, just proving to the Gryffindors that you are capable? Why do you need to? What does it really matter what they think?"

"Everything matters!" Harry growled.

"What about your integrity?" the Slytherin asked quietly. "Could you live with yourself afterwards, knowing that you had cheated just to show that you could win? Because that's still not winning, you know. Prove that you can win without help, and then you'll have something to be proud of."

"I could beat you without magic anyway." Harry sneered. Malfoy raised an eyebrow.

"Really? Prove it."

Forcing magic out through his skin, he was propelled away from Harry was a crack as the magics collided and released Harry's grip. Not looking back to the Gryffindor, he sped upwards to where a glint of gold was hovering near the top of the Slytherin goalpost.

He could feel it more than anything else as Harry caught up with him, his broom carrying him forward towards the ball. Pushing his old Nimbus 2001 as much as he could without using extra magic, he reached out his hand and closed it around the Snitch at the exact same time as Harry drew level and made a grab for it.

He briefly registered Harry's warm hand overlapping his before they were both whirled away by the Portkey to some unknown destination.

Harry's deep blue eyes snapped open in the darkness. He groaned, the cold, wet stone beneath him chilling him to the bone, and rolled over slowly and awkwardly. For a panicked moment, he suddenly thought he had been rendered blind bysome unknownspell's power – but no, he could faintly see a chink of light from beneath the door. At least he had something to remind him of the outside world.

"Draco?" he whispered cautiously. There was no answer. Cursing himself for taking off his bracelet, he struggled onto his knees and crawled forward, one hand held out to feel for anything. The palm hit the dripping wall of the cell, a bit hard for his liking. With a small grumble, he shuffled around and moved away from the wall. He froze as he heard another sound cut through the air, separate from his uneven breathing and the swish of his robes on the floor.

A faint jingle of something metal came from over where the door was, getting nearer. Keys, perhaps, wielded by his captors. Using the wall for support, he slowly hauled himself to a sitting position, not feeling that his legs would hold him up, hands patting himself down frantically for his wand. Completely unsurprised when the search proved fruitless, he held his right hand facing the door as the footsteps stopped and the keys were pushed roughly into the door.

He blinked against the sudden brightness as the door was flung open, screwing his eyes up though he knew he really shouldn't. He cracked them open and squinted at the figure in the doorway. It certainly looked like a Death Eater – the person was wearing the customary black robes and white mask. He – Harry decided it wasn't a woman – stalked up to him, and whipped out one arm to grab Harry's wrist in a cold, tight grip and hoist it above the Gryffindor's head violently.

"My… haven't you got yourself in a bit deep this time, Antares?" the man sneered, and Harry instinctively shrank away from the silky voice, although the hand and wall did a wonderful job of ensuring he couldn't move anywhere. "And there's nobody to help you this time." Harry brandished his right hand – the one that Snape wasn't holding – and hissed a brief stunning spell.

"Don't be stupid. You can't cast in this place."

He let go of Harry's wrist and took out his wand.

"Come. You've kept us waiting long enough."

Harry hauled himself to his feet and took a few unsteady steps to make sure he could actually do it. It got easier as he approached the door, and he fingered the coldrunic band now around his wrist as he followed Snape down the corridor.

"Ah, Mister Antares." Lucius said smoothly as he and Snape emerged from the dungeons. "We've been waiting for you."

"So I've heard." He said snidely. Lucius sneered, and in one swift movement, struck him across the face with his cane. Harry's head jerked back sharply, and he tottered for a moment before regaining his balance. Turning his head slowly back to face Lucius, he snarled at the pompous git.

"You have no idea what you're getting into." He spat. Lucius raised an eyebrow.

"And I thought that Potter was arrogant. It seems that you are even more so."

"You have no idea." He drawled in his best impression of Draco, aware that he couldn't be recognised in this form but still cautious to hide any of his own idiosyncrasies.

"But I shall do soon." Lucius said smoothly, and jerked his head to Snape. "Come. He is getting impatient."

I do hope that more than one person reading this actually wants to know what happens next. In fact, if you do, please let me know!

Comments very welcome and much appreciated.

I feel like a stuck record. Argh.

smokey

is feeling exceptionally benevolent...