The amount of sleep Aralynn Weasley had gotten since Halloween was positively dismal. Despite her exhaustion, she was still managing to keep up with her classes. It wasn't the mountain troll that had been keeping her awake. Of course, during the moment, she was certain that she was going to die. For a few short days after the battle with the creature; she had suffered from nightmares. Nevertheless, she had since relinquished the fear she had experienced that night. The reason for her lack of sleep was because of Harry—Harry and the connection that had sparked between them in the girls' lavatory. There hadn't been enough time, while facing off with the troll, for her to really put stock into what had happened. However, she had since had an ample amount of time to reflect.

Memory of the connection had come back to her in a dream. The scene was exactly as it had been, only, when Aralynn and Harry's hands touched; the rest of the world seemed to fade away. There was something of a spotlight on their linked hands. Even while asleep, the spark bolted through Aralynn's body, causing her to wake. The dream became a reoccurrence and severely hindered her ability to get a full night's rest.

Hermione, ever observant, had noticed the exhaustion peeking out underneath Aralynn's eyes. The questioning began the morning before the first Quidditch game of the season—between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Harry was on edge, and Ron noticed, but Hermione seemed to zero in on Aralynn.

"You don't look well," Hermione said.

Aralynn chuckled. "Thank you, Hermione."

The girl reddened. "Oh, I only mean—you look like you haven't been sleeping well."

The redhead waved her hand. "I know what you meant, 'Mione."

Hermione nodded. "Well… what's wrong?"

"Nothing more than a dream," Aralynn told her.

"Not a nightmare?"

Aralynn shook her head. "Not a nightmare."

Ron had been watching Harry, who was doing nothing more than poking at his breakfast. The boy frowned, pushing the plate toward his friend. "You should eat something, Harry," he told him. "You'll need your strength for the game."

"I'm not worried about Quidditch," Harry told him. "I mean, I am, but… my mind is elsewhere."

Aralynn looked over at Harry, silently hoping that he, too, had noticed their connection, and was cycling through the same questions she was. "Where is it?"

Hermione centered her attention on Harry as well.

Harry Potter sighed. "When some of the professors came in after we knocked the troll out, I saw that Professor Snape's leg was bleeding."

Aralynn was disappointed, but quickly shoved it away and looked curiously at Harry. "Is that suspicious?"

"Well, yeah," said Harry, glancing over to Snape—who was walking down an aisle between the tables. "He quickly covered it with his robes when he caught me looking at it. He's limping, too, if you hadn't noticed."

Hermione stared at him. "What's your point, Harry?"

"When we were learning the Levitation Charm, Aralynn told me that she thought that whatever Hagrid retrieved from the vault at Gringotts is what the three-headed dog is guarding," Harry explained. "What if Snape let the troll in as a diversion so that he could head up to the third floor, and try to make it past the dog?"

"You think that Snape would suffer that dog for whatever it's guarding?" asked Hermione.

Harry shrugged. "It would make sense."

"Why, though?" questioned Ron.

"I dunno," answered Harry. "That's what I have to find out."

Aralynn blinked. "What we have to find out."

Harry seemed surprised. "We?"

Hermione nodded, smiling. "We're in this together, Harry."

In the distance, there was an owl screeching. Their attention was drawn to Hedwig, Harry's snowy owl. She was flying toward them, carrying a long, thin parcel within her talons. Hermione glanced at Harry. "Isn't it a bit early for mail?"

"I wouldn't know," Harry told her. "I've never gotten mail."

Aralynn studied it. "Well, go on, Harry. Open it."

Harry began to open the parcel and Ron quickly jumped in, helping him tear the wrappings off. Once the paper was gone, there was a broom lying upon the table—sleek and shiny and mahogany handled. Harry was gaping at it. "Someone sent me a broom!"

Ron shook his head. "Not just any broom, Harry! This is the newest model—the Nimbus 2000!"

Harry was in awe. He couldn't believe that someone had sent him mail at all—let alone a broom, and the newest and fastest model, at that. "Who would do this?" he asked. "I don't know anyone who would send me a broom!"

Aralynn picked up a note that was attached to it. "Could be from whoever left this."

Harry looked embarrassed. "Right," he muttered. He took the note and opened it, reading over the words. "It's from Professor McGonagall!"

Draco Malfoy was ambling by. When he noticed the broom, he turned on his heel, and stared at it. "What?" he hissed. "First-years aren't allowed to have brooms!" He reached out to grab it, but Aralynn smacked his hand.

"Harry is allowed one," she said matter-of-factly. "He's on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team."

Draco was outraged. "That's impossible!"

Hermione turned her nose up. "He owes it to you, really. McGonagall noticed his talent when he went after Neville's Remembrall."

Furious, Draco went to report the forbidden item to the nearest professor—Flitwick. However, Professor Flitwick didn't seem to be paying attention to him. Instead, he was standing alongside some students that had since gathered around Harry, admiring the broom with them.

Aralynn smirked at Draco before he stormed away. She turned back to Harry. "The match will be starting soon. You should find the other team members and prepare."

Renewed of his gusto, Harry shoveled his breakfast into his mouth and ran off to find the other members of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. Aralynn, Ron, and Hermione laughed at his newfound glee—as he was practically bouncing out of the Great Hall.

When it was time for the match to begin, nearly all the students and faculty bundled themselves in warm clothing to try their best to stave off the cold November air. Hermione, Ron, and Aralynn walked to the Quidditch Pitch together, following the rest of the Gryffindors. Amongst the crowd was exhilarated prattle. Some of the students were even placing bets on which team they thought would win the match. Most seemed to be betting on Slytherin, if only because Harry was a first-year student and first-time flyer. However, those loyal to Harry, who believed in him, were insistent that Gryffindor would win. "They have Harry Potter," the students would argue. "If He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named couldn't defeat him, what makes you think that Slytherin can?"

The Quidditch Pitch was a large arena with several tall, towering spires. Every other stand was decorated with the colors of the teams who were playing the match—green and silver for Slytherin, scarlet and gold for Gryffindor. The students colored the stands with their sported house-centered garb. The various colors seemed to be waving, as they were not forced to sit with their houses, and instead allowed to intermingle.

Aralynn, Ron, and Hermione gathered near Neville Longbottom who, with Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas, were waving triangular flags with Harry's face on them. When Ron noticed the flags, he pointed them out to Hermione and Aralynn. The girls laughed.

"A bit creepy," Aralynn chuckled.

"His reputation precedes him. He'll always have fans," said Hermione.

Together, the three of them unfurled a large banner they had been working on for weeks. The words, Potter for President, had had their letters charmed by Hermione so that they would blink brightly, like neon lights.

"Quiet!" Ron hissed, though nobody was talking. "The match is starting."

In the center of the arena, Madam Hooch was standing on the ground, speaking to both teams. She then blew on her whistle and tossed the Quaffle into the air, as the Bludgers and Snitch were already zooming around the field, allowing the teams to begin fighting for it. This was also when Lee Jordan, the announcer, began speaking.

"Welcome to the first Quidditch match of the season!" called Lee over the loudspeaker. "Opponents this game: Slytherin versus Gryffindor! The Quaffle is up, and the match begins!"

The players were dashing around the field on their brooms, showing quick flashes of silver, green, gold, and scarlet whenever they zipped by. The students in the stands were clapping and bouncing excitedly. Half cheered for Slytherin, and half cheered for Gryffindor. The chants bundled together.

"Go, go, Gryffindor!" – "Go, go, Slytherin!"

Aralynn, Hermione, and Ron kept their sights out for Harry. He was higher than the rest of the players, looking out for the Snitch from above. Aralynn clapped, keeping her eyes on him. "Go Harry!"

"Angelina Johnson has the Quaffle!" announced Jordan. Those in the stands turned their attention to watch her. "Excellent dodges from those nasty Slytherin cheaters!"

"—Jordan." came McGonagall's warning voice.

"There she goes! She scores! Angelina Johnson scores! Ten points to Gryffindor!"

A Slytherin player dove underneath George, grabbing ahold of the Quaffle. He then threw the ball to their team captain. "Damn, the Quaffle goes to Slytherin; in the hands of Captain Marcus Flint!"

"Jordan!"

Lee waved his hand. "Sorry, Professor," he said, watching the game intently. "Flint goes for the score—OH! Blocked by Gryffindor's Keeper, Oliver Wood!"

One of Slytherin's players when to snatch the Quaffle, but they were too slow for their opposition. Lee was almost leaping over the railing excitedly. "Nice job! Katie Bell has retrieved the Quaffle!"

Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell flew side-by-side, passing the Quaffle back and forth. Ron watched, tilting his head. "What d'you think they're doing?"

"Strategizing," said Aralynn.

"Angelina throws the Quaffle—and through the goal! Ten points to Gryffindor!"

Hermione squealed. "We're winning!"

"The Slytherins look angry," Aralynn pointed out.

Marcus Flint flew over to one of the Slytherin Beaters, plucking the bat from his teammate's hand. A Bludger went whirling over to Flint, who whacked the ball in Oliver Wood's direction. The Bludger slammed into Wood's stomach, knocking him from his broom and to the ground. The crowd gasped.

"CHEATING!" shouted Lee. "That's a foul!"

With the Gryffindor team distracted by Wood's fall, Slytherin managed to score. Flint and another teammate flew to Angelina, shoving themselves against each of her sides to box her in. They rattled her back and forth before falling back, allowing her to slam into one of the towers, fall through the capes, and hit the ground.

Lee turned on the faculty. "They're cheating!"

McGonagall glared at him until he went quiet. With Angelina ejected from the game, Slytherin managed to score again. Hermione hit her fist off the stands' rail. "No!"

Aralynn placed her hand on Hermione's wrist. "Relax. We still have Harry."

Harry, who was floating about the rest of the game, lowered his broom. He looked over the players, scanning between them with focused eyes. His broom then suddenly began to whip back and forth and tried bucking him from the seat. Aralynn lurched forward, white-knuckling the rail. "Hermione, what's going on?!"

Ron stepped forward, staring at the broom. "It's gonna throw him off!"

Hermione pulled the pair of binoculars she had borrowed from Hagrid up to her eyes. "It looks like someone is jinxing Harry's broom!"

Aralynn took a ragged breath. "Who?"

She scanned the stands with the binoculars. "It's Snape!" she said. "He's muttering something under his breath!"

"What are we supposed to do? Harry could die!" Ron whined.

Hermione handed the binoculars to Aralynn. "Keep an eye on Snape. I'll handle it."

Aralynn eyed the binoculars but passed them off to Ron. Her focus was solely on Harry. She wanted to throw herself over the stands and jump onto Harry's broom, hoping that she would be able to do something to help him. She wasn't sure why, but there was a sinking feeling in her stomach. As though, if Harry were to fall from his broom, she would lose something direly important.

Ron brought the binoculars up to his face, looking through the stands to find Hermione. "I can't see her!" he said. "Wait—there she is! She's by Snape now!"

As much as Aralynn wanted to look, she couldn't pull her eyes from Harry. Her breath was hitched in her throat, and her heart was about to burst from her chest. "Come on, Hermione," she whispered under her breath. "Help him."

Harry's broom stopped jerking. He was hanging off the Nimbus, and once it stilled, he climbed atop it again. Aralynn looked to Ron. "What happened?"

"Snape was distracted," he told her. "Hermione set his robes on fire."

Hermione then reappeared from shoving her way through the crowd. Aralynn smiled brightly at her. "Brilliant, Hermione. Truly."

Hermione beamed at her, but then frowned. "You're crying, Ara."

Aralynn reached up to touch her wet eyes. "I guess I am. I didn't know."

Once Harry regained control of his broom, he noticed that the Slytherin Seeker was chasing after something. As he figured it was the Snitch, he went following him. Hermione, who was standing between Ron and Aralynn, grasped their hands. "Go Harry!"

Harry and Terence Higgs were side-by-side now, repeatedly bashing into each other. They dove down, going after the small golden ball that was much faster than they were. They were nearing closer and closer to the ground. For a moment, it looked as though they were going to plow straight into it. Fearful, Terence withdrew from the hunt. At the last second, Harry leveled his broom. It was too close to the ground for him to stay mounted. Instead, he stepped onto the wood, balancing as well as he could. He took a few steps forward, hand outstretched toward the Snitch. He took another step, onto the handle, but tumbled forward. He rolled into the ground, and once he stopped; he stood up.

The crowd was on the edge of their seats, watching Harry with intense eyes. The boy placed his hands on his stomach and retched. Aralynn bit her lip. Hermione exhaled. "He looks like he might be sick," she said.

Then, Harry spit something from his mouth. He held it in his hand and raised it, bestowing it to the crowd. It was the Golden Snitch. The crowd began to cheer. Lee clapped. "Harry Potter has caught the Snitch! That's one-hundred-and-fifty points for the team! Gryffindor WINS!"

The crowd began chanting again, but now it was the whole crowd. "Go, go Gryffindor! Go, go Gryffindor! Go, go, Gryffindor!"

Standing in the middle of the arena, Harry was absolutely twinkling.