Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me.

Author's Note: You're going to have to bear with me, as this is my first shot at Quidditch. Oh well, I'm going to have a damn good go at it anyway.

A/N 2: I'm posting this because someone reviewed, and I wasn't expecting it. I thought nobody read this! Thankies.

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Much to the relief of the Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch teams, Sunday turned out to be just like Saturday: clear, sunny and cloudless.

Harry woke early, and his first thought was of the match, which was putting the fear of God into him. More than ever, he wanted madly to beat Malfoy. The incident of the previous night had made him hate the blond traitor more than ever before. He could not believe that Draco had taken Pansy to the Room of Requirement. Now, Harry was not the most experienced teenager when it came to relationships, but even he knew that you do not take your new boy/girlfriend to the place that was special to you and your ex. If he had been angry at Draco before, it was nothing to how he felt now.

He dressed quickly and hurried down to the Great Hall. His current feelings of anger and nervousness made breakfast something of an unattractive prospect, but he knew that playing Quidditch on a totally empty stomach was more than a little likely to make him pass out. Having fallen fifty feet from a broomstick before, he had no desire to do it again, though it might be a little less embarrassing to pass out from hunger than from seeing Dementors, like he had last time.

He was rapidly consuming breakfast when the rest of the team arrived and sat down. They all looked equally nervous, and Harry made an immediate effort to encourage them.

"Why so concerned?" He asked lightly, as he spread butter on his toast. "We can flatten Slytherin, I know we can! You were all brilliant in training!"

"Just try and catch the Snitch quickly, will you Harry?" Natalie said weakly.

"Not a chance," Harry replied, brandishing his toast for emphasis. "I'm not catching the Snitch until you guys have had a chance to show everyone how good you are. By the way," he added to Timothy and Jack in an undertone, "if you can aim the Bludgers at Malfoy, it would help a lot."

The two Beaters looked quite confused by this, but they nodded.

"Oh yeah, and you three?" He addressed the Chasers. "Remember that Hawkshead Attacking Formation we tried in practice?" Ginny, Natalie and Euan nodded. "I want to see you use that, you did it really well yesterday."

As the team all began eating breakfast, looking a little less nervy than before, Harry saw Draco Malfoy enter the Great Hall. Harry was pleased to see that Draco looked as bad as he felt. He just hoped that this would affect his performance in the match.

Suddenly, Draco caught Harry's eye and gave him a look of such pure vitriol that Harry's stomach turned to ice. All of a sudden, Harry's nerves resurfaced and began registering their objection to how much life sucked at the moment. Why him, why now, why Malfoy?

The team remained at the Gryffindor table for about ten more minutes, before going back to the common room for last minute straightening of tail twigs and polishing of broom handles. Holding his gleaming Firebolt made Harry a little more confident, as he remembered that Malfoy only had a Nimbus Two Thousand and One. The speed difference would, if nothing else, aid Harry in keeping his distance from the stupid prat.

At eleven o' clock, the streams of students wearing red and green began flooding across the grounds and down to the stadium. As usual, most of the crowd was wearing red in support of Gryffindor, as neither Ravenclaw nor Hufflepuff had any great predilection for supporting Slytherin. This was heartening to the Gryffindor team, who were just entering the changing room and putting on their scarlet Quidditch robes.

Harry was trying to hide his nerves from the team, and was not doing a bad job of it, as the last few weeks had given him good practice in hiding his emotions.

At last, the teams filed out onto the pitch to riotous cheering from the stands. Madam Hooch also walked on carrying her broom. Harry glanced up at the stands, trying to locate the announcer, whoever they were. He could not see anyone at first, but then a familiar voice rang across the stadium, saying: "Hello, everyone, and welcome to the first match of the new season, Gryffindor versus Slytherin!"

Harry's jaw dropped slightly. This was the voice he recognised from such phrases as 'It's called football, Ron, everyone plays it in the Muggle world' and 'Harry, have you seen my socks?' - it was Dean Thomas. Harry felt proud to hear another Gryffindor doing the announcing. The job had been done by Lee Jordan ever since Harry had started at Hogwarts, and somehow it just wouldn't seem right for someone from another house to be doing it.

"Captains, shake hands!" Madam Hooch's voice reached his ears and gave him a rather nasty realisation. Oh crap, physical contact. Harry reluctantly shook hands with Malfoy. They both dropped each other's hand as quickly as possible.

The players mounted their brooms, and on Madam Hooch's whistle, kicked off.

"And Gryffindor in possession of the Quaffle!" Dean shouted. "Mostly new line-up for this team this year, now under the captaincy of Seeker Harry Potter. And it's still Gryffindor in possession, Abercrombie heading for goal…"

But Seeker Harry Potter was not listening to the commentary. He was too busy gliding up and down the pitch, watching carefully for a sighting of the Snitch and trying his utmost to keep as far away from Malfoy as he could.

He did notice, however, when Euan scored the first goal. Harry was pleased to see how furious Malfoy looked at this. Now grinning, he carried on soaring over the game.

He also noticed when Natalie scored the second goal, and the third, putting Gryffindor up thirty - zero. This was the point when the Slytherin team began playing dirty. Several fouls were called. Ginny ended up with a startling black eye from one of the Slytherin Chasers resorting to cobbing. She quickly gained revenge though, putting the penalty she was awarded directly through the centre hoop. Malfoy called a time out at this point, which seemed to be purely for the purpose of giving him an opportunity to shout at his Keeper for letting Ginny score. Harry took the chance to give the team further words of encouragement.

"You're all playing great," he said, grinning around at them as they stood at the edge of the pitch. "Ginny, great penalty."

Ginny grinned back. "Well, it had to be done," she said modestly.

"If we just carry on like that, we'll be fine," Harry said rapidly, as Madam Hooch was signalling to him and Malfoy to wrap it up. "I haven't seen the Snitch yet, but I'll have to sooner or later. Just keep going like before!"

Dean's voice filled the stadium again, as the players kicked off again. "And we resume play, Gryffindor leading seventy points to ten!"

Harry rose over the others, grinning even more broadly now. Seventy points to ten! Boy, they WERE flattening Slytherin.

The Slytherin team seemed to have registered this too, as the game became even dirtier.

"FOUL!" Dean bellowed as the Slytherin Keeper deliberately flew at Natalie, who had just entered the scoring area. "Flying to collide! Free kick-" He was interrupted suddenly by Professor McGonagall tapping him on the shoulder and muttering something. "Sorry, that's a penalty to Gryffindor!" Harry shook his head in amusement. Dean still couldn't give up his allegiance to football.

Natalie took the penalty and scored, putting Gryffindor up eighty points to ten. This spurred the Slytherins to try harder, and the green-robed Chasers managed to pull back to eighty – thirty. And still there was no sign of the Snitch.

Harry was starting to feel a little concerned by now. Malfoy hadn't done anything; he hadn't even glared at him… This was oddly worrying.

A minute later, his worries were proved to be well founded, as he found a green blur heading directly at him. He arced downwards just in time, and Madam Hooch blew her whistle, awarding a penalty to Gryffindor for Malfoy's blatching (flying with intent to collide, see Quidditch Through the Ages). This time, the penalty was saved, and Harry began to feel under pressure. Seconds later, Harry saw it at last. He dived straight down, heading for the tiny gold speck he had seen just above the ground. He saw, out of the corner of his eye, that Malfoy was diving too, just behind him. As the ground got closer, Malfoy began to draw level. Harry felt Malfoy try to elbow him out of the way, but no foul was called. Unfortunately for both of them, Malfoy's 'tactic' meant that neither of them realised just how close the ground was getting. With a sickening thud, both Seekers hit the floor.

Harry dimly heard Madam Hooch's whistle as he lay on the ground, wondering vaguely whether he had concussion or not. Evidently not, as within five minutes, both he and Malfoy were back on their brooms and back in play.

The next time the Snitch hove into view, the two Seekers were at opposite ends of the pitch. They both saw it at the same time, but Harry was slightly nearer. They both zoomed towards the Snitch, and Harry soon felt his fingers close around the golden, walnut-sized ball. A split second later, Harry felt something distinctly less good, as Malfoy collided with him and they both headed for the ground, this time not intentionally. Harry's last thoughts before he hit the ground were 'Yay, we've won', and 'Oh crap, this means I'm going to end up in the Hospital Wing AGAIN'.

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Author's Note: I love that ending! Hope this worked. Review!