The next morning, Remus began seriously regretting his lack of hangover potions.

The two had been up until the early hours of the morning, reminiscing about their days at Hogwarts and drinking inhuman amounts of firewhiskey. Sirius was worse off than Remus, having made the mistake of falling asleep in his Animagus form, which- as he'd learned in school- inexplicably made a hangover worse. They'd never worked out why.

"I didn't send any owls off last night, did I?" Sirius managed to say once he transformed back and finished throwing up.

Remus grimaced. "A while back I got one of those cages that won't open if I'm inebriated."

"Rough couple of years?"

The werewolf just grunted and put the kettle on. They had stayed in his apartment that night, and he made a mental note to snoop around Sirius' safe house. He was no expert in runic spellwork, but any information he could glean about their new 'employers' might help.

Several cups of black coffee and a round of numbing charms later, the two were functional enough to begin planning again.

Sirius' first instinct was to go to Dumbledore, but Remus was already shaking his head before he had finished the thought.

"If I knew where he was I would," he said, putting on breakfast. "Two years ago, he resigned from all his positions- including Hogwarts- and dropped off the map. I've tried sending letters to him before and they've all come back unopened. As far as I can tell no one knows where he is anymore. Might even be dead."

Sirius tried to process the idea of a wizarding world without Dumbledore and came up completely blank. The old man, however eccentric he might have been, had been there watching over Hogwarts for longer than Sirius had been alive.

"Surely there must be some old comrades from the first war that might help?" Sirius mused.

"I doubt it. It's been a long time, and I spent a lot of it outside of Europe or in the Muggle world. Besides, would you want to risk it? If anyone was caught conspiring with us it could get them thrown in Azkaban."

Sirius felt something inside him harden at that. He hadn't even considered the potential consequences for Remus when he'd involved him in this, and thinking about that damnable prison was enough to convince him at once not to put anyone else at risk.

"Don't bother apologizing," Remus said, waving him off before he could voice his thoughts, "Things weren't going great for me anyway- I'll risk Azkaban to have at least one of my friends back. For that matter, I'd risk Azkaban just to get Pettigrew."

Sirius nodded. "It's just us then."

The two spent the next few hours throwing ideas back and forth, discussing the various defences of the Ministry, and what exactly it was they were stealing. Getting into the Ministry would be easy enough, Polyjuice potion and some sneaking about would suffice for that, but the Department of Mysteries was an entirely different story.

Neither had any idea about how the DoM organised their archives, so neither could begin to guess based on the information given- Wing 7, Room 21- or why it had to be stolen specifically on December 14th. A little over four months gave them some wriggle room for fact-finding, but neither even knew where to start.

"Can't be a prophecy," Sirius said through a mouthful of toast and eggs, "or they'd have to be more specific. Actually, that means it has to be a one-of-a-kind thing, right? Something that needs a whole room to itself. Narrows it down a bit."

Remus looked lost in thought, staring off into the distance as Sirius kept talking.

"And it has to be something we could transport easily enough, or they would have told us to bring a trunk or something. So... some sort of powerful, unique, and small- or shrinkable? - artefact. What we really need is an Unspeakable to just tell us. Don't suppose you know any?"

Only half listening, Remus replied in the negative then moved swiftly across his apartment. He started scanning his bookshelf- small, but packed full- and then rummaging around in a drawer when that failed. Sirius turned, noticing his friend's lack of attention.

"I swear, if you're just now realizing you had some hangover potions in there this whole time, I'm going set this bloody place on fire."

"Shut up Padfoot," Remus replied absently, abandoning the drawer and entering his bedroom. "I know it's here somewhere... where did I put the bloody thing..."

"Maybe we could just kidnap an Unspeakable and steal some Veritaserum. I suppose they all know Occlumency. It'd suck to prove I was innocent and then get thrown back in Azkaban for using the Imperius, but if-"

"Found it!" Remus came back, holding a thin, black book. "I'd just about forgot I had this. Dumbledore gave it to me during the war in case he died or had to go underground. It's a guide, of sorts, meant to get me into Ireland undetected."

Sirius blanched. "Ireland? There wasn't someone in the Order that wasn't a werewolf that could go?"

"The Irish might not like Lycanthropes as a whole, but our 'friend' didn't mind, and he's not one to fear the local ministry. The book showed a pathway that led directly to his residence, so I never had to deal with Hunters."

Remus sat down next to him, opening the book. The pages were thicker than regular paper or parchment, and seemed to be completely coloured a glossy black, with no discernible markings. He took out his wand, thoughtfully tapping it against the cover, deep in thought. Sirius had seen books like this plenty of times before- most of the inner vault at his family's old manor were enchanted similarly. It was a simple matter of remembering the password.

"What was the bloody password!"

Simple indeed. Sirius stood up and went to make himself another cup of tea- it was only a day away from the full moon after all, and he remembered well how temperamental werewolves could be during that time.

He wondered who exactly Remus was talking about. It was an open secret that the Order of the Phoenix had only been able to fend off Voldemort because of its many hidden, and often unscrupulous allies. Dumbledore had plenty of resources to make deals with, and there had been stories of him liaising with parties that would likely be his enemy in different times. The Dark Lord's wholesale massacring of the British Vampire population was widely attributed to his fearing they would side with the order.

It was a necessary evil, Sirius knew. The ministry may have eventually led the charge against Voldemort's legions, but it was the Order that had kept him from conquering while the bureaucrats wrung their hands and tried to negotiate.

"Rose Fortunes," Remus said, tapping his wand against the cover of the book four times in a pattern. "Shit, I know it was some sort of flower. Lavender Fortunes?"

Sirius chuckled. "Who is this guy anyway? And why do you think he'll even help us, last I recall most of our more shady friends retreated back into hiding after the war ended. He owe you or something?"

"Sort of. He owed Dumbledore, which is the only reason I'm bothering with this. As for who, I can't actually really say. We called him the Gilded King, some sort of mob boss, but I only ever met him through his underlings. Marigold Fortunes?"

Finally, the book gave a long shudder, and thick black smoke began rising out of it, hovering in a cloud above. When Remus opened it this time, the pages were covered in writing and strange symbols which seemed to be written in a thick, unpleasant-smelling oil. It seemed to be wet, as though only written moments ago, and Sirius realized it probably had been. Magical protection could be bypassed, but not if there wasn't anything actually written down until the password was given.

"Not exactly subtle is it," Sirius said, hurrying over to get a good look. "Would hate to explain that one to the Muggles." Remus was flicking through the pages rapidly, trying not to touch the pages for fear of smudging them and occasionally muttering under his breath.

"Bollocks!" the werewolf snarled, letting his anger get the better of him for a moment. "The usual passages have all been discovered or are blocked this time of year. The only one that'll be open in time comes out right in the middle of Dublin- about sixty miles from where we need to be."

"So, I guess that's out of the question then," Sirius said, shrugging. "I can think of easier ways of getting you killed then by travelling through Dublin. Are you even sure we need help doing this?"

"That's not-" Remus suddenly paused, going tense as though suddenly realizing something. Sirius raised an eyebrow and made a subtle hand signal, but the other man just looked away, out the window.

"You know what, it's a beautiful day, let's walk and talk. I know a place a few blocks away." His voice was calm, almost cheerful, which made Sirius more suspicious. They had looked for potential listening charms and bugs the night before, but had found nothing. Did Remus think they hadn't been thorough enough? More importantly, what was he going to say that he was so worried about someone listening in?

"Alright," Sirius said, keeping his tone light, "Let's take a walk."

Sirius and Remus moved through the streets of Muggle London quick enough to throw off any followers, but not quickly enough to attract suspicion. Remus led, taking a seemingly random route until he settled on a cafe, arriving twenty minutes after they'd left his apartment. The two of them entered quietly and sat down in a booth, Remus swiftly throwing up a subtle privacy charm around them.

The had disguised Sirius with a notice-me-not charm and some of Remus' old war-era gear- a fake moustache and eyebrows, glasses, a ginger wig and some stick-on freckles. In short, he looked almost exactly like a Weasley, to Remus' amusement.

There were plenty of more "magical" ways to disguise someone, but they didn't have any potions on-hand, and appearance changing spells wouldn't hold up to a simple Finite Incantatum. The chances of a wizard seeing them was slim, but neither wanted to take the risk.

They had been right to be cautious. On the far wall of the cafe there was a poster of Sirius, with an information hotline that no doubt led directly to the Ministry.

Sirius, who hadn't been in a Muggle Cafe since he and James had snuck out once during fifth year, was looking around fascinated.

"The one thing I could never get used to in the Muggle world is how nothing floats."

Remus just chuckled. "They have airplanes, just hope you never have to get on one of those."

"I've seen them before, you'd have to Stun me," Sirius said, looking around the cafe carefully before casting a privacy charm of his own, "Why the subterfuge, we checked over your apartment."

"We were also fast asleep for more than long enough for someone to sneak in, and I really didn't want your benefactors overhearing what I'm about to say," Remus replied, "I don't want to contact the Gilded King to help us break into the Department of Mysteries, I want him to help us after."

Understanding dawned in Sirius' eyes. "You think Atticus- or whoever he works for- is going to screw us over?"

"Why wouldn't they?" Remus said, "Pettigrew is easy for them to control, and we know from past experience he's cowardly enough to succumb to threats. My bet is that as soon as we get out of there they nab us, take whatever we stole and wipe our memories- or just kill us."

Sirius sat back thoughtfully, mulling it over. He'd suspected a potential double-cross when he'd accepted the offer, but had ultimately dismissed it as a problem for another time.

"Atticus said something when we met at the safe-house. Something about how me proving my innocence would help them."

"That could make sense," Remus murmured, "You were in Azkaban for thirteen years, and it's widely known you were put there without a formal trial. If the public finds out that you were wrongfully imprisoned, a lot of senior ministry employees would have their careers ended over it. There would have to be an overhaul of the whole justice system."

"Maybe these guys are trying to bring down the Ministry?"

"Then they're probably terrorists, and we don't want them getting whatever it is we're stealing," Remus concluded with an air of finality. He'd clearly made up his mind to go to Ireland, but his logic made sense.

Sirius grunted and fell silent, frustrated. There were still too many blanks, too little to go on. Maybe Atticus' organisation was anti-ministry, maybe it was a clever misdirection that he'd fallen for. They were smart enough for it, that was for sure, and he still couldn't work out how they'd known about Pettigrew, or how they'd found him.

In either case, Remus was right- if there was a chance their heist being successful would help lead to another wizarding war, then they couldn't risk it.

"What did this Irish guy do for us in the war?" Sirius eventually said, finally finding a question one of them might actually know the answer to.

"Bad business. He was our go-between man with the I.L.G, but according to Dumbledore he also has a hand in every bit of criminal activity that goes on in Ireland, wizarding and muggle."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "The Irish League of Goblins? The hell were we doing with them?"

"Trying to get Gringotts to break neutrality and help us, same as Voldemort. Bloody bankers been secretly funding the I.L.G for years. We thought we could influence them by making a deal with the paddy's first, but it fell through."

Well, that was a surprise. Sirius had known about the Order's efforts to get the old Goblin families of Gringotts to help them, but involving the League must have been a secret known only to those directly involved.

The I.L.G was infamous for their ruthlessness and complete refusal to deal with Wizards. Huge swathes of Ireland were still under their direct control, and they were credited with dozens of acts of terrorism and murder against the Irish wizarding community. As far as Sirius knew they were the last holdout of Goblins that were still fighting for independence from wizardkind.

If it weren't for a complex web of legal treaties and political tensions, Britain would have stamped them out years ago like they had done with the British equivalent, but the Irish alone were too few in number to do it.

"He ended up giving us a load of underworld contacts as well, and supplied us with information about the Death Eaters," Remus continued. "I'm hoping he'll still be sympathetic to our cause. Plus, he probably assumes that Dumbledore is still in contact with the Order's old inner circle."

Sirius smiled, the beginnings of a plan starting to form. Getting through Dublin undetected wasn't going to be easy, they still didn't have a particularly solid plan on getting into the Department of Mysteries, but at least they had a goal, a first step they could both agree on. Finally they had some stable footing to walk on, a path forward illuminated though murky

The Ministry, Atticus' organisation, the Irish- Fuck em' all, Sirius thought.

Even at half-strength the Marauders could take them all on at once and win.

"Stupefy!"

"Protego! You're really quite good at this you know Harry."

"Huria!"

Luna cheerfully skipped out of the way of his spell, slinging back a tickling jinx by way of reply.

The two of them, as well as Justin and Susan- currently engrossed in some sort of trashy romance novel- were relaxing in an abandoned classroom. Justin had transfigured several of the chairs into some more comfortable couches.

"Why exactly did I agree to this again?" Harry said, smiling.

"Because," Justin said lazily from the sidelines, "You're a softy. And because you've been spending so much time in the Library I'm quite sure Pince can legally adopt you."

A few days earlier, Harry had gone to Luna to tell her about Hagrid's note.

"Thank you for keeping me up to date," she had said, to his puzzlement. Luna had been the one to originally find out the Dementor was missing after all, of course he'd tell her what was going on.

When he'd said as much she just went quiet, staring at her book and not saying anything for a few long moments. Harry could just barely make out from across the table that she was reading a guide on enchanting items with hexes. What was she doing with that? Harry hadn't taken Luna for a prankster.

"Could you teach me some spells?" Luna said out of nowhere, "I'd like to be ready for duelling club next year, and I never see any Snicklesnacks following you around so you must have time."

"What do- wait, what are Snicklesnacks?"

The second-year girl smiled cheerfully. "You haven't heard of them? They're six-legged lizards that like to stalk over-worked people and steal their paperwork. The ministry is constantly having to clear them out of their offices."

Harry, now thoroughly confused, tried to work out if he was being played or not. Had anyone else said that he'd laugh it off, but Luna seemed so innocently sincere about everything she said it was impossible to tell how serious she was. He certainly hadn't seen any lizards stealing his homework, but then magic did exist so who could really say?

"Um, I could help you out," Harry said, trying desperately to get his train of thought back on track, "But I'm not that good really. Aren't there any Claws' that can help you out?"

Luna paused, then quietly said, "They're all busy."

Harry felt a keen pang of kinship and grimaced at his own obliviousness. Dudley had made sure he'd spent most of his childhood without any real friends, and those few he had had were always distant to him, the barriers of family difficult to overcome. It had been a lonely childhood. When he'd come to Hogwarts, the first thing he'd resolved to make sure his schooling here was as different as possible from his old life.

He also belatedly realized why she was learning how to hex objects. He never had much to steal in Surrey, but that never stopped the crueller children from taking what little he had.

It occurred to Harry for the first time that outside of Hannah- who he had only seen with Luna once- and himself, the girl might not have any friends at all.

He decided to help her.

Not that she needed much. It quickly became apparent that Luna was smart enough to figure out how to stick some weak hexes to a piece of bait clothing or paper. The two spent the rest of the afternoon working out what would be the funniest combinations.

They eventually agreed on combining a tickling jinx with a confusion charm. Neither could work out how to set it to a delay, and Harry resolved to ask Professor Flitwick the next time he saw him.

Neither of them outright stated why Luna was learning it, but they didn't need to.

After that, the girl had started spending more with the Hufflepuffs, and eventually Harry had given into her pestering and agreed to teach her about duelling.

"If I didn't spend so much time in the library Justin," Harry belatedly replied, letting Luna take the offensive, "I wouldn't be able to whip you so easily."

Justin scoffed. "I'd like to see you do transfiguration as good as this. I'm a prodigy I am."

Harry had to give him that. The other boy was far and away the best transfiguration student in their group, and maybe in their year. Unfortunately, he hadn't worked out the complicated art of duelling with transfiguration, leaving him stranded in that arena.

"Don't forget about potions Harry," Susan chimed in, "You barely passed that one last year."

Harry parried a well-aimed stinging jinx and sent one of his own at Susan, much to Luna's amusement. "That's just because Snape hated me, I'm fine with Bubble."

"Think that's his real name?"

"Our Herbology teachers name is Sprout, what do you think."

Justin chuckled. "Magic is weird. Speaking of weird, have you talked to Hagrid yet?

"Haven't had a chance, he doesn't leave his cabin much and things have been so bloody hectic that- Merlin Luna, who taught you the Crucifixion curse?"

The Hufflepuffs had discussed Hagrid's note, but ultimately it hadn't told them much more than they already knew- the story about disgruntled Centaurs was bollocks, and there was something very dangerous in the forest. They'd mostly ended up talking in circles and wildly speculating so much that Ernie had ended the conversation convinced the Dementor had been bitten by a werewolf.

Harry had considered Hagrid's comments carefully and decided that he was probably right about not antagonizing the Aurors. The whole thing was well beyond his paygrade, and he'd successfully put it out of his mind. Between homework, trying to work out how to beat Draco in duelling club, and the upcoming Quidditch match, he had enough to think about.

The fourth week of school rolled around, then the fifth, and despite the restrictions Quidditch went ahead as normal. McGonagall was wise enough to predict the probable riots that would occur if they cancelled the game.

If he had to be honest, Harry was almost been hoping it would be delayed. There had been sparse time to practice in the weeks before, and as a result he was feeling decidedly rusty.

Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff seeker, was predictably calm and cheerful. While everyone else was wracked with nerves, he joked around and gave out words of encouragement to anyone who looked like they needed them. Easy for him- he could actually ride a broom at home during the holidays. Harry's only practice had been his brief stay at the MacMillans. While the pick-up games he'd played with Ernie and Susan had been fun, they didn't do much to prepare him for an actual game.

With any luck he wouldn't actually have to mount a broom today.

"You alright Harry? Looking a bit peaky." Cedric said, grinning and sitting next to him.

"I'm fine, but do me and favour and don't get knocked out will you? Bloody Weasleys have it out for me."

Cedric winced. In the final game of last year Harry had ended up playing Chaser after Jonathon Stone fell off his broom and broke his leg. Roughly five minutes after lifting off the ground, Harry took a Bludger straight to the chest. Three shattered ribs later, he still had some decidedly uncharitable feelings for the Weasley twins.

"More likely it'll be one of the chasers again," The older boy said, "but I'll do my best to end it quick yeah?"

Harry nodded. While Bludgers would often be directed at the Seeker, they had less to think about than the Chasers, and were trained to be manoeuvrable. Harry had only even started being a reserve Chaser halfway through last year, after both the team's reserves quit in the same week. He'd proved good enough in the role that Cedric cheerfully made him a reserve for both roles, promising to put him on full time if there was a proper vacancy.

So far, that hadn't happened, but players being taken off was so common he frequently got to play anyway.

Their conversation was interrupted by the first whistle, signalling the player's entrances. Cedric gave him a pat on the back, and the team exited.

Harry shared a grin with his fellow reserves, and they made their way to the lookout box to watch.

The second whistle blew and the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor players lined up against each other, engaging in some friendly trash talking. The assorted players fell silent as Madam Hooch laid out the balls and gave them the ceremonial "follow the rules and don't be cheating twats" speech. It was only really warranted in the Gryffindor-Slytherin matches (where it would be ignored anyway), but it wouldn't be a proper game without a threat of expulsion before the game started.

Before long the third whistle blew, and both teams took to the sky. Harry grinned at the spectacle, realizing how much he had missed the sport, even if he was relegated to only watching for now.

That grin was quickly replaced with a scowl as the Gryffindor team scored almost immediately.

"And Johnson takes an easy first goal for twenty points!" Lee Jordan, the announcer for this game, bellowed through a soronus charm.

Harry winced at the quick lead gained by Gryffindor. Wilson should have blocked it easily, but he'd expected a fake-out and jumped to the side, letting it go through uncontested.

The first minute of the game set the tone for the next twenty.

While Hufflepuff's chasers held their own enough to prevent the other team getting too far ahead, it was clear that they were outmatched. Harry watched carefully, taking quick notes after each interaction- one of the roles the reserves were meant to be doing was to give critique to his teammates after the game, though most of the time they got caught up in the excitement and forgot.

The Weasley twins were completely dominating, using the Bludgers to constantly break up any formation the Puffs' tried to make. While their own beaters weren't playing badly, they were being too defensive, trying to guard Cedric- who could look after himself- and their Keeper, who was barely being targeted.

"Possession!", Lee roared as the Quaffle leapt through the air of its own accord, into the arms of Wilson, "That's the second time Spinnet's been caught out this game!"

The red-and-gold clad stands groaned as a Hufflepuff chaser, Roberta Preece, scored.

Harry watched curiously as Cedric swooped close to one of their Beaters, excitedly yelling something at them. Moments later it seemed whatever he'd said had an effect and they completely changed strategy, abandoning their defensive positions and moving aggressively onto the Gryffindor keeper. It paid off quickly as Preece scored again, bringing the game to a mere twenty-point difference in the Gryffindor's favour.

"We're not used to the Lions Chasers being challenged, but it seems the Badgers change of strategy is working! If this keeps up for too long- BARRINGTON IS MOVING, HE'S SEEN THE SNITCH!"

Harry swore and moved his attention to the Gryffindor Seeker, who turned hard and started speeding straight down. Cedric followed close behind, both Seekers reaching out while trying to maintain their brooms stability.

"It's a Wrongski Dive folks, but is this a feint or the real thing?"

It was real- Harry saw the tiniest glint of gold a mere meter ahead of Barrington. The two were hurtling at the ground at impressive speeds, only taking a few moments to start nearing the ground. The stands went quiet few seconds as both the seekers nerves were tested in an improvised game of chicken. Surely they couldn't both keep up the dive?

Barrington broke first, wrenching his broom up and then turning in a wide circle, trying to intercept the snitch when it too pulled out of the dive. Cedric kept it up for another second until he was only meters away from the ground, and at the last minute twisted desperately, arm still reaching out, still on the snitch's trail. It must have been staying barely out of reach, and the crowd starting roaring again as the tension broke and Cedric seemed seconds away from taking the game for Hufflepuff.

Then, disaster.

The seekers leg slipped out of position and brushed against the ground beneath him. It wasn't much, but at the tremendous speed he had been going the slight nudge sent the front of his broom down, hitting the ground and sending Cedric hurtling over the front.

"BLOODY HELL!", Lee announced, letting his decorum fail at the spectacle, "Diggory has been sent spinning across the pitch, and it doesn't look like he's getting back up any time soon!"

Harry swore. From here he could see the spike of bone jutting through the Seekers' right elbow. Another whistle blew, and the game was briefly paused as Cedric was stunned and taken off the field on a stretcher. Shit.

"Guess you're up mate," one of the other reserves said, patting him on the shoulder.

Harry ran down to the pitch, stretching on the way, a complex mix of excitement and terror churning around in his stomach. He really wished it was legal to chuck on a quick Relaxation Charm. If I throw up on the pitch I'll never live it down.

Before long he was running onto the pitch, barely taking in the journey, to the cheers of the Hufflepuff side. He desperately tried not to show off how sick he felt as he gripped his broom.

Harry took a running start and leapt onto his broomstick. The Nimbus 2000 felt alive in his hands, like it had been locked up for too long and was eager to be racing again. It vibrated excitedly underneath him, straining to be let off the leash and go all-out.

Like always, the anxious anticipation he felt melted away as soon as Harry was in the air, until he could hardly remember why he'd been worried at all.

The freedom of flight was like nothing else- there was simply no equivalent to a broomstick, no comparison that could be made against the feeling of soaring through the air with nothing but a glorified stick keeping you up. Harry took both hands off the Nimbus for his first lap of the pitch, controlling it with just his legs and thoughts, grinning stupidly.

"And it looks like Harry potter had taken to the field to replace Diggory," Lee yelled, "Last time this happened he ended up in the hospital wing- hopefully he fares better this time around!"

Technically I was playing Chaser last time, Harry said inwardly, shooting a glare at the announcers' booth. Knowing the Snitch would have long escaped in the chaos, he began doing wide sweeps of the pitch, keeping an eye on Barrington while trying to spot the tell-tale glint of gold.

"Bell gets an easy ten points for the Lions! Cedric getting taken out must have really shaken the Badgers, what are they doing?"

Jordan was right- Harry could see the Hufflepuff's chasers were letting the other team walk all over them. They'd reverted back to playing defensively, but the combination of the Gryffindor chasers and the Weasley twins were shredding through their lines. Wilson in particular looked like he was going to throw up. Clearly some of their team had weak stomachs, and the bloody sight of Cedric's arm practically snapping in too. Harry had only seen it from a distance, and he didn't envy his fellow Hufflepuffs.

Slowly, Gryffindors' lead crept up, until it seemed inevitable they would get the crucial fifty-point lead that would stop even the snitch being caught from winning Hufflepuff the game. Harry didn't have much time. And I was enjoying myself, too.

"Blatant foul by Fred, or maybe George," Lee hollered, "I knew I shouldn't of let them at my Firewhiskey stash last might!"

There was a brief pause in the announcing as Mcgonnagall presumably grabbed him by the ear and gave the errant fourth year a stern talking to.

"Hm, and Spinnet scores again, putting the Lions forty points ahead," he continued a moment later, sounding somewhat more subdued.

Only one more goal and Harry's window of opportunity would be closed unless the Hufflepuff chasers could recover their momentum and bring the scores back together.

Suddenly, something caught his eye. A flash of gold, almost imperceptible, hovering slightly behind one of the Gryffindor players. He started to kick the Nimbus 2000 underneath him into action, before belatedly realizing the snitch was hovering behind Barrington- the Gryffindor seeker.

Swallowing hard, and not wanting to give away that the other boy could turn around and win the game in a few seconds, Harry accelerated hard. He aimed at a point far ahead of Barrington. The other seeker took the bait, twisting hard to cut him off while trying to find the snitch himself to no avail.

In the centre of the pitch, Spinnet caught the Quaffle out of a long throw over the heads of the distracted Hufflepuff chasers and started speeding towards the goals.

"It looks like we have another chase on our hands, both seekers going for the Snitch, but who will get there first?"

Just a few more seconds... NOW! Harry jerked hard to the right, struggling to keep the broom under control. The whiplash of the sudden movement nearly wrenched his hands from the broom, but he barely managed to keep his grip.

Spinnet streaked towards the goals, lining up a clear shot.

Barrington realized that he'd been fooled, desperately trying to turn his broom completely around without throwing himself off, but it was too late. The snitch also realized it had been found too late. By the time it started fluttering away from Harry, it was already without striking distance.

He reached out-

-Spinnet hurled the Quaffle-

-fingertips brushing against the wing-

-feinting to the left, but actually aiming for the centre hoop-

-it turned wildly but he turned with it, swinging wildly-

-perfectly aimed, blurring past Wilson and through the goals-

Harry's hand closed around the Snitch, and he pulled up hard at the last second to avoid hitting the spectator stands. He turned to the scoreboard, breathless and red, just in time to see the Quaffle falling and Alicia Spinnet grinning. Had he been too late?

The scores didn't move for a second, as though even the enchantment wasn't entirely sure which team had scored first. The stands and Jordan went quiet.

Slowly, the Hufflepuff score shuddered and increased by fifty points.


A/N: Yes, I'm being that author that changes the rules of Quidditch. It's such a cliche that I wasn't going to do it originally, but eventually decided that it was small enough of a change that it wasn't a big deal.

Oh well.