Guys, I am SO sorry for the late update! Unfortunately, my computer was stuffing up last week, so I didn't get a chance to work on this chapter and then I had something to take care of, but enough excuses! Here's the next chapter! Enjoy!

Disclaimer/ I don't own anything

Chapter 10

The next day, we spent our time planning. Harry had reluctantly agreed, and we now sat in a quiet corner of the library going through our plans.

"You can't let them know you're only there for information," Hermione warned me. "You're going to have to be subtle. As much as I hate it, I don't think you'll find out much tonight. I think it's going to take several visits for them to start even remotely trusting you."

"What?!" Harry exploded. "No way."

I shushed him when we got a harsh glare from Madame Pince.

"Yes, Harry," I hissed. "It's the only way this will work. Do you really think Malfoy will reveal anything straight away, after a year of hating him?"

My brother sighed and then gave a reluctant shake of his head.

"Good," I say. "Now, as much as it pains me, I think I'm going to have to start spending less time with you three. It'll be suspicious if I just go in there with no reason. I think maybe we could stage a fight?" I looked at the other three.

Hermione nodded in understanding while the boys just stared at me blankly. I sighed.

"It should be with Harry and Ron," Hermione suggested. "That way, you and I still have a reason for talking to each other."

"Hang on," Harry suddenly interrupted. "Why do you two get to 'stay friends'? I'm her brother!"

"Which means there'll be a reason for us eventually making up and start talking again," I say. "Besides, this way, I can still sleep in the Gryffindor dormitory if need be and spend time in the library and whatnot."

He gives a huff but then agrees. We spend the next few hours going through our plans until finally, we're ready to put them into action. Unfortunately, the best time to do it would be later tonight, so we had to wait. To make it more believable though, Hermione and I went off together while Ron and Harry went somewhere else.

I knew this was a risk, but we had to take it. I couldn't shake the memories of that night from my head. The cold voice demanding death and finding Mrs Norris petrified haunted me. That's why, after taking a deep breath, I entered the Great Hall with a scowl on my face, stomping over to where Hermione, Ron and Harry sat. My presence had not gone unnoticed, and most of the Gryffindors sat wide-eyed as I approached the three. A few people from the other houses also seemed to be watching, although much less conspicuously. Good. Preparing for what was about to come, I took a calming breath, before yanking Harry up from his seat by the neck of his robes.

On his part, he does a surprisingly good job. His eyes widen in astonishment and slight fear before he assumes a defensive position.

"Do you mind, Isobel?" he complains loudly. "What was that for?"

"For this," I seethe, holding up the tatters of several robes. "You ruined my clothes!"

Harry laughs a little.

"Oh, don't worry about them, it was just a prank, right, Ron?" he said, glancing down at the redhead.

Ron stood up with a grin.

"Yeah, don't worry, Bel," he said.

I glared at them as best I could.

"YOU RUINED MY ROBES!" I shriek, holding back a triumphant smirk when I successfully grab the attention of everyone in the Hall. "Now I have nothing to wear!"

"Just wear the one you've got on," Harry suggests.

"For the rest of the term?" I yell. "I have no other robes!"

"Just use Hermione's," Ron said. "I'm sure she won't mind sharing."

"You git!" Hermione shot back, standing up in a rage. "What makes you think you could ruin Isobel's robes? You know she can't get any new ones!"

Before either of the boys could say anything, Professor McGonagall was suddenly swooping down on us.

"Quiet, all of you," she said sternly. Then, to the rest of the Hall, "Return to your meals. You four, follow me!"

With that, she started out of the Hall, and we had to jog to keep up. I glanced at the other three behind McGonagall's back, and Hermione gave an encouraging nod. This was all part of the plan. McGonagall leads us into a nearby empty classroom before turning around with a glare.

"What is this meaning of this Mr Potter, Mr Weasley?" she demands.

"It was just a harmless prank, Professor!" Ron said immediately. "We didn't think Isobel would react like this!"

"How else was I supposed to react, Ronald?" I snap. "Happy, that you've ruined all my robes?" I scoff.

McGonagall interrupts before he can retort.

"Enough! Five points from each of you for your disturbance. Another five for the destruction of another students property," she directed the last part to the boys. "Now I suggest you four sort this out before creating another scene! Miss Potter, new robes will be sorted out for you as soon as possible."

She left in a swirl of robes, leaving the four of us in silence. Once we were sure she was gone, we breathed a sigh of relief.

"Do you reckon we were believable?" Ron asks hesitantly.

"I think so," Harry answered. "It's not the best thing to get mad over, admittedly, but I think it will do. If not, we can just put it down to Isobel's stubbornness," he joked.

I swat his arm, albeit with a small laugh.

"Now I just have to get the Slytherins to warm up to me," I sigh.

"Hey, you'll be fine," Harry said, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me into an affectionate side hug. "As long as you put on enough charm, you can get anyone to like you. I mean, who wouldn't?" he grins.

I smile gratefully at him.

"Come on, we should go before people start getting suspicious," Hermione suggested after a moment. "Dinner will be over soon."

We nod and Harry and Ron exit the classroom. Hermione and I wait a moment before leaving as well. We discreetly make our way closer to the dungeons, where we often saw the Slytherins coming and going from, which meant their Common room had to be somewhere near there. We pretended not to notice though as we took up residence against a wall, talking quietly to pass the time. We kept an eye out as we did until Hermione suddenly nudged me. I glanced around and grinned when I saw the lonesome blonde girl. A Slytherin in our year, her name was Daphne Greengrass, and I had sometimes seen her around the castle and of course, in classes. She always seemed to be on her own, although sometimes I saw her talking to Tracey Davis and Sophie Ropher, two of the other Slytherin girls in our year.

Time for the show to begin.

"Bye Hermione," I said sadly, knowing Daphne would hear.

Hermione smiled brightly and gave me a wave which I half-heartedly returned before she walked off, leaving me alone. I tried not to be too obvious as I watched Daphne, but I also needed to make sure she knew I knew she was there. I knew it was kind of mean, doing the whole guilt-tripping thing, but, oh well, she's a Slytherin, I'm sure she'll handle it.

I watch as Daphne seems to have a mental debate with herself before she sighs and starts towards me. I turn away to hide a grin on the pretence of wiping tears away.

"Uh, hey," Daphne says awkwardly.

I whirl around, almost giving myself whiplash as I do. I stare at her for a moment before mumbling a hey. We stand there, awkwardly for a moment before she speaks.

"Er – are you okay? Just – I, uh, well I heard you and your brother fighting with Weasley and…" she trails off.

"I'm fine," I say harshly.

Then I soften my voice a bit.

"Sorry, I'm just a bit wound up."

She looks at me in surprise for a moment.

"It's fine," she says. "Um, do you want to talk about it or something?"

"Not really," I answer, knowing that would make just as uncomfortable as it would make me. "I just need some time away from him and the others."

She nods.

"That's understandable. Well, do you want to come with me? I'm sure they won't bother you if you're with the snakes," she scoffs the last part out, and I look at her in genuine surprise.

"Um, sure," I say, internally jumping with joy that I had managed it.

She flashes a quick grin before leading me away, presumably to the Slytherin Common Room.

"So, uh, why do I get the feeling you're not particularly fond of Slytherin?" I ask, attempting to make conversation.

She bites her lip, glancing around as if to make sure no one else is listening.

"I am," she's quick to defend her house. "It's more so the people. I'm not entirely on board with all the purebloods thinking they're better than everyone else and showing that in the rudest way possible."

I look at her curiously. While I had intended to make 'friends' with her, I hadn't thought it would be genuine. I thought she would be like all the others, and I would have to grit my teeth to stop myself from saying something that could make my plans fall apart. But I found myself actually wanting to know more.

"You mean you're not like that?" I ask.

She scoffs.

"Of course not. Not all Slytherin's are, as hard as that is to believe. We just tend to keep to ourselves rather than calling attention to it is all."

"Is that why you're always on your own?" I ask, wincing as soon as I say it. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that, I just –"

She surprises me by laughing.

"It's fine. I know what you mean. And to answer your question, sort of. It's also because I don't really get along with the others, so I don't have many friends," she shrugs nonchalantly, fidgeting with the strap on her shoulder I presume is holding books of some sort.

"Oh."

Thankfully, at that moment we come to a stop. I look expectantly at Daphne, not knowing what to do.

"Pureblood," Daphne says, not looking at me.

I crinkle my eyes in confusion before a passage reveals itself from within the bare stone wall.

"Come on," Daphne laughs softly at my amazed expression.

She leads me into the passage and guides me through it until we emerge in what I assume is the Slytherin Common Room. I gasp when I see it.

The room was elegant, and a striking contrast to the Gryffindor Common Room. Most of the furniture was green or grey, and silver seemed to be the only metal present in the room. Several windows revealed that we were beneath the Great Lake, giving the room an even greener appearance.

I'm so caught up in admiring the room that I don't notice it had gone silent until Daphne clears her throat slightly. I startle and look around, realising everyone's eyes were on me. I flushed, looking to Daphne for help. She seemed just as embarrassed as me though, so we just stood in silence, waiting for someone to speak. Sure enough, someone did.

"What are you doing here, Potter?"

I hold back an eye roll at the unmistakable voice of Draco Malfoy. It took me a moment to find him amongst all the students, but it ended up being easy because he was the only one in the room moving.

Flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, he had his usual sneer on his face as he walked over to me, stopping a few metres away from Daphne and I. He looked at me expectantly for an answer.

"In case your dense brain has forgotten, Malfoy," I fire back. "I'm welcome here. I'm also in Slytherin."

Several people sneer at the reminder, but it has the opposite effect on Malfoy. His sneer drops, and surprisingly he laughs. I glare incredulously at him.

"Something funny, Malfoy?" I cut in.

He stops laughing to look at me, amusement still evident in his eyes, however.

"Yeah. Do you think you're welcome here, Potter? I find that really funny."

This time I don't hold back an eye roll. I'm tempted to just up and leave, but I know how important it is that I gain some sort of trust among the Slytherins. So I bite my tongue and take a deep breath to calm myself.

"Look, I'm not here for a fight, Malfoy," I say, raising my voice so everyone can hear me. "So save it. I'm just getting away from my brother."

Malfoy scoffs.

"Trouble in paradise Potter?"

I clench my jaw, trying to keep the irritated look off my face.

"Fine," I say, desperately hoping Daphne was right before about not all Slytherin's being evil. "It's obvious you don't want me here, so I'll just – "

"Wait."

I stop, looking around for the person who spoke. A tall boy, a sixth year, I think, fights his way through.

"Leave her be, Draco," he says, speaking to Malfoy. "You heard their fight. Just give it a rest for a day, won't you?"

I feel slightly guilty about deceiving them, but I put it aside. There were more pressing matters at hand here. I bite my cheek as Malfoy stares the older boy down, anxiously tapping my foot against the ground. Finally, Malfoy looks away from the boy in an obvious sign of surrender. A sigh of relief escapes me as everyone seems to get the message and slowly but surely, everyone returns to their own thing, leaving Daphne and me looking gratefully at the boy. He walks over to me and holds his hand out.

"I'm David Selwyn, sixth-year Prefect," he offers.

I let out a breath of relieved laughter, taking his hand.

"Isobel Potter," I say.

"Yeah, I figured," he laughs.

I grin awkwardly.

"Thanks for that," I say. "I meant what I said. I'm not here to fight."

He nods.

"I know. That's why I stepped in. Just stay away from the not-so-friendly lot, okay? I'm sure Daphne can help you with that," he flashes a grin at the blonde.

She nods, returning the smile.

"Thanks, David," she says, before beckoning me into the room, over to a quiet corner.

I sit down, and without even an invitation, she starts pointing out people I should avoid and who's alright. I find myself laughing at her jokes and talking easily to her once the initial awkwardness is gone. The whole time I'm itching to say something about the Heir of Slytherin and the Chamber of Secrets, but I know it's too soon. So instead I just enjoy the conversation and find my eyes slowly falling shut as people start heading off to bed. I fight off sleep; however, as Daphne doesn't seem to be growing tired.

I realise she's probably never really spoken to someone like this before, and I find myself feeling sorry for her. She seemed like a decent person, and nothing at all like the typical Slytherin's I had only encountered before now.

Eventually, I can't fight sleep off anymore, and I fall asleep right there, no longer paying attention to Daphne, unsure if she was even still awake herself.

The next morning I wake to the sound of voices. I wearily blink myself awake, looking around in confusion at my unfamiliar surroundings. Then it clicks. I was in the Slytherin Common Room. I had fallen asleep on the couch, and someone must have found me during the night because I now had a blanket over me. Frowning, I pushed it off and looked around. Only a few people were awake, and Daphne was nowhere in sight. She had probably been sensible and slept in her dormitory rather than opting for a couch. Lord knows it was more comfortable. I groaned as I stood up, my back aching slightly from the cramped position I was in. I stretch it and sigh with relief when it cracks into place.

Figuring I should probably go before people started filtering in, I folded the blanket up and then headed out of the Common Room. I realised I couldn't completely remember where to go, so I waited for a moment for the golden path to light up and guide me. Sure enough, it did, and I gladly followed it through and up into the Entrance Hall. Knowing most people would still be asleep, I crept through the castle to head for Gryffindor Tower. When I reached it, I slipped inside and went up the stairs to the dormitory, silently grabbing some clothes before heading into the shower. When I emerged, I saw Hermione's bed was empty, so I quickly grabbed my things before heading down. I grinned when I saw Hermione, and I went over to her, surprising her as she snapped her book closed.

"Isobel!" she exclaims. "How'd it go?" she continues quieter.

"Pretty good," I say, launching into an explanation.

Harry and Ron join as not long after, and luckily none of the Gryffindor's asks any questions about it, so we talk for a bit before deciding to head down to breakfast. Hermione and I break off as part of the plan and eat quickly before it's time for class. Unfortunately, Defence Against the Dark Arts is our last lesson of the day, and Lockhart calls the four of us back, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Harry and I were supposedly not on the best terms.

"So, Harry, Isobel," said Lockhart. "Tomorrow's the first Quidditch match of the season, I believe? Gryffindor against Slytherin, is it not? I hear you're a useful player, Harry. I was a Seeker, too. I was asked to try for the National Squad but preferred to dedicate my life to the eradication of the Dark Forces. Still, if ever you feel the need for a little private training, don't hesitate to ask. Always happy to pass on my expertise to less able players…"

I held back a scoff as Harry made an indistinct noise in his throat and then hurried the three of us off. Once we were outside the classroom, Ron turned to us.

"Less able players?" he demands. "Does he not realise that you two are the youngest Quidditch players in over a century?"

I laugh lightly as Harry blushes.

"Oh, shush, Ron," Hermione scolds him, still flustered over Lockhart. "He was just being nice."

Harry and I glance at each other as Ron raises his eyebrows at her. Harry hauls him away; however, before he can say anything, and we quickly follow.

"So I suppose you'll be going back to the Slytherin's tonight?" Harry asked me in a slightly defeated voice.

Ron muttered to Harry, loud enough for me to hear, "It'll be a lot less hassle if you can just knock Malfoy off his broom tomorrow."

I hold back a grin as I answer Harry.

"Yeah. But I don't think it will be too bad. Daphne's pretty nice."

We spend a little more time talking and making plans before we hear someone coming by and quickly separating, not wanting people to think we're on good terms again. That would just mess everything up.

Before I knew it, it was Saturday morning and lay awake in my bed in the Gryffindor girl's dormitory while thinking about the upcoming Quidditch match. I was nervous, mainly at the thought of what Wood would say if Gryffindor lost, but also at the idea of facing a team mounted on the fastest racing brooms gold could buy. I had never wanted to beat Slytherin so badly. Even after spending some time amongst them, I knew they were still, on the whole, a bunch of gits.

Eventually, I got up and dressed and went down to breakfast early, where I found the rest of the Gryffindor team huddled at the long, empty table, all looking uptight and not speaking much.

As eleven o'clock approached, the whole school started to make its way down to the Quidditch stadium. It was a muggy sort of day with a hint of thunder in the air. Ron and Hermione came hurrying over to wish Harry and I good luck as we entered the locker rooms. We pulled on our scarlet Gryffindor robes, then sat down to listen to Wood's usual pre-match pep talk.

"Slytherin has better brooms than us," he began. "No point denying it. But we've got better people on our brooms. We've trained harder than they have, we've been flying in all weathers -"("Too true," muttered George Weasley. "I haven't been properly dry since August")"- and we're going to make them rue the day they let that little bit of slime, Malfoy, buy his way onto their team."

Chest heaving with emotion, Wood turned to Harry.

"It'll be down to you, Harry, to show them that a Seeker has to have something more than a rich father. Get to that Snitch before Malfoy or die trying, Harry, because we've got to win today, we've got to."

"So no pressure, Harry," said Fred, winking at him.

I gave Harry a reassuring smile as we walked out onto the pitch. A roar of noise greeted us; mainly cheers, because Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were anxious to see Slytherin beaten, but the Slytherins in the crowd made their boos and hisses heard, too. Madam Hooch asked Flint and Wood to shake hands, which they did, giving each other threatening stares and gripping rather harder than was necessary.

"On my whistle," said Madam Hooch. "Three… two… one…"

With a roar from the crowd to speed us upward, the fourteen players rose toward the leaden sky. I instantly went after the Quaffle, quickly shifting into Quidditch mode. Before long, however, it was apparent something was wrong.

The Bludger's were usually pretty violent, but today they seemed even more so. I found I was struggling to doge them and putting more effort into staying out of their way than flying with the Quaffle.

At one point, I found myself stopped near Harry to catch my breath.

"Are you okay?" he asks worriedly.

I nod but widen my eyes as I spot a Bludger coming for us.

"Watch out!" I cry, zooming out of the way.

"Close one, Harry!" I hear George, say from behind me, and turn to see him streaking past Harry with his club in his hand, ready to knock the Bludger back toward a Slytherin. However, the Bludger changed direction in midair and shot straight for Harry again.

I couldn't pay it much mind as Angelina shot past with the Quaffle, tossing it over to me. I caught it and sped off, dodging through the Slytherins and Bludgers. But with the Bludgers constantly heading for me, there wasn't much I could. I was forced to toss the Quaffle off to Katie in the hopes she could score a goal, as the Bludgers didn't seem too focused on her. It was no use, however. The Slytherins were too fast.

It had started to rain; I felt heavy drops fall onto my face, cutting into me like glass.

"Slytherin lead, sixty points to zero," Lee Jordan announced as Slytherin scored another goal.

Meanwhile, the mad Bludger was doing all it could to knock Harry and me out of the air. I had noticed it going after him as well, so now, Fred (on me) and George (on Harry) were now flying alongside us to stop the Bludgers.

"Someone's – tampered – with – this – Bludger -" Fred grunted, swinging his bat with all his might at it as it launched a new attack on me.

"We need time out," yelled George, trying to signal to Wood and stop the Bludger breaking Harry's nose at the same time.

Wood had obviously got the message. Madam Hooch's whistle rang out, and we dived for the ground, still trying to avoid the mad Bludger.

"What's going on?" said Wood as the Gryffindor team huddled together, while Slytherins in the crowd jeered. "We're being flattened. Fred, George, where were you when that Bludger stopped Angelina scoring?"

"We were twenty feet above her, stopping the other Bludger from murdering Harry and Isobel, Oliver," said George angrily. "Someone's fixed it – it won't leave them alone. It hasn't gone for anyone else all game. The Slytherins must have done something to it."

"But the Bludgers have been locked in Madam Hooch's office since our last practice, and there was nothing wrong with them then…" said Wood, anxiously. Madam Hooch was walking toward us. Over her shoulder, I could see the Slytherin team jeering and pointing in his direction.

"Listen," said Harry as she came nearer and nearer, "with you two flying around us all the time the only way I'm going to catch the Snitch is if it flies up my sleeve. Go back to the rest of the team and let me deal with the rogue one."

"Don't be thick," I said. "It'll take your head off."

I wasn't so concerned about myself. With me flying through everyone anyway, the Bludger wasn't too bad when it was going for me. Wood was looking from Harry and me to the Weasleys.

"Oliver, this is insane," said Alicia Spinner angrily. "You can't let Harry and Isobel deal with that thing on their own. Let's ask for an inquiry…"

"If we stop now, we'll have to forfeit the match!" said Harry. "And we're not losing to Slytherin just because of a crazy Bludger! Come on, Oliver, tell them to leave us alone!"

Reluctantly, I nodded along, knowing we would just have to deal with it.

"This is all your fault," George said angrily to Wood. "Get the Snitch or die trying, what a stupid thing to tell him–"

Madam Hooch had joined us.

"Ready to resume play?" she asked Wood.

Wood looked at the determined look on Harry's face.

"All right," he said. "Fred, George, you heard Harry – leave him and Isobel alone and let them deal with the Bludger on their own."

The rain was falling more heavily now. On Madam Hooch's whistle, I kicked hard into the air, racing across the pitch. I kept one eye on the Bludger and Harry, the other on the Quaffle and the game. I was too busy focusing on scoring a goal that I almost missed it.

Harry had stayed still for too long, and the Bludger hit him. I instantly pulled to a stop, watching in fear as my brother fell sideways, right arm dangling uselessly, forced to swerve out of the way as the Bludger heads for him again. For some reason he kept flying, speeding towards Malfoy. Harry took his remaining hand off his broom, leaving only his legs to grip his broom. I screamed as he fell to the ground; my cries lost amongst the crowd. I raced towards him as he hit the ground and rolled off his broom. His arm was hanging at a bizarre angle, but I saw a flash of gold in his good hand. The crowd must have seen it too because there was instant whistling and shouting. But then Harry fainted, and I dived to the ground, quickly followed by a bunch of Gryffindors and Lockhart. I gritted my teeth as Lockhart kept me aside as he leant over Harry, who was slowly coming around.

"Oh, no, not you," Harry moaned when he saw Lockhart.

"Doesn't know what he's saying," said Lockhart. "Not to worry, Harry. I'm about to fix your arm."

"No!" said Harry. "I'll keep it like this, thanks…"

He tried to sit up, and Colin clicked away on his camera.

"I don't want a photo of this, Colin," Harry said loudly.

"Lie back, Harry," said Lockhart soothingly. "It's a simple charm I've used countless times–"

"Why can't I just go to the hospital wing?" said Harry through clenched teeth.

"He should really, Professor," said a muddy Wood, who couldn't help grinning even though his Seeker was injured. "Great capture, Harry, really spectacular, your best yet, I'd say–"

"Stand back," said Lockhart, who was rolling up his jade-green sleeves.

"No – don't -" said Harry weakly, but Lockhart was twirling his wand and a second later had directed it straight at Harry's arm.

I didn't want to look, but I couldn't tear my gaze away. As soon as I saw, however, I wished I hadn't. Colin Creevey began clicking away madly.

"Ah," said Lockhart. "Yes. Well, that can sometimes happen. But the point is, the bones are no longer broken. That's the thing to bear in mind. So, Harry, just toddle up to the hospital wing – ah, Miss Potter, Mr Weasley, Miss Granger, would you escort him? – and Madam Pomfrey will be able to – er – tidy you up a bit."

As Harry got to his feet, he looked down at his right side. I watched as he obviously tried to move his arm, but nothing happened. Poking out of the end of his robes was what looked like a thick, flesh-coloured rubber glove.

Lockhart hadn't mended Harry's bones. He had removed them.

Madam Pomfrey wasn't at all pleased.

"You should have come straight to me!" she raged, holding up the sad, limp remainder of what, half an hour before, had been a working arm. "I can mend bones in a second – but growing them back–"

"You will be able to, won't you?" asked Harry desperately.

"I'll be able to, certainly, but it will be painful," said Madam Pomfrey grimly, throwing Harry a pair of pyjamas. "You'll have to stay the night…"

Hermione and I waited outside the curtain drawn around Harry's bed while Ron helped him into his pyjamas.

"How can you stick up for Lockhart now, Hermione, eh?" Ron called through the curtain. "If Harry had wanted deboning he would have asked."

"Anyone can make a mistake," said Hermione. "And it doesn't hurt anymore, does it, Harry?"

"No," said Harry. "But it doesn't do anything else either."

Me, Hermione and Madam Pomfrey came around the curtain. Madam Pomfrey was holding a large bottle of something labelled Skele-Gro.

"You're in for a rough night," she said, pouring out a steaming beakerful and handing it to him. "Regrowing bones is a nasty business."

So was taking the Skele-Gro apparently. He coughed and spluttered as it went down. Still tut-tutting about dangerous sports and inept teachers, Madam Pomfrey retreated, leaving the three of us to help Harry gulp down some water. "We won, though," said Ron, a grin breaking across his face. "That was some catch you made. Malfoy's face… he looked ready to kill…"

"I want to know how he fixed that Bludger," said Hermione darkly. "We can add that to the list of questions we'll ask him, Isobel," said Harry, sinking back onto his pillows.

The door of the hospital wing burst open at that moment. Filthy and soaking wet, the rest of the Gryffindor team had arrived to see Harry. "Unbelievable flying, Harry," said George. "I've just seen Marcus Flint yelling at Malfoy. Something about having the Snitch on top of his head and not noticing. Malfoy didn't seem too happy." They had brought cakes, sweets, and bottles of pumpkin juice; they gathered around Harry's bed and were just getting started on what promised to be a good party when Madam Pomfrey came storming over, shouting, "This boy needs rest, he's got thirty-three bones to regrow! Out! OUT!"

I wanted to stay, but Madame Pomfrey was having none of it. So, reluctantly, we were forced out, and we trampled back to Gryffindor Tower. There was a celebration of sorts, but my heart wasn't in it as I worried for Harry.

Eventually, it came time for bed, and I was too exhausted to do much else, so I showered, changed, and then slipped into bed.

I was so tired that I didn't even stir as a wave of magic travelled through the castle, illuminating the walls in a golden hue.

So I hope you liked the bit at the beginning. As I've said before, from here on out we're travelling away from the original story a bit, so please leave your thoughts and comments in a review:) I hope to update soon!