Apparently, Rose really did fall asleep in the summer grass because she was shaken awake by Max. She sat up to find that the sky was auburn and the house elves were shooing them out.

"Almost light out!" they squeaked. "You is to be in bed!"

He picked her up by the arms and helped direct her from the gardens. She always took at least five minutes after waking up before she could move on her own.

"Where's Alcor?" she asked, noticing their absence.

"They headed back an hour ago," he replied.

"Why didn't you leave?"

He shrugged. "I was skipping stones, and you were still asleep."

She suddenly remembered something that gave her a burst of energy.

"Did you learn anything about Alcor's secret?" she asked, but already knowing the answer.

There was a silence "No," he replied with a shakiness to his voice.

Suddenly, she heard him grunt and double over. With terror, she knelt to find that he was coughing up blood.

"Oh my God!" Rose exclaimed, not knowing how she could help.

"I'm fine!" he spat.

"No, you're not!" she said, deciding that she would rip his tie off allowing him room to breathe.

"No, really," he grunted painfully. "This isn't new. You go on to the- *cough* castle."

"Are you nuts?" she asked angrily. He was now sputtering.

"I'll have Yoman make me tea," he gagged. "It's getting late. Go!"

She scowled and stood up.

"Max, I really don't think-" she started but he glared up at her with red eyes, and she fell silent. "Fine." She knew it would be no use in arguing further, not when his eyes were that color.

She turned and continued through a door hidden from the outside by ivy. With one more glance at Max who seemed to be recovering on the ground, she closed the door behind her. It was rather chilly outside; she hadn't realized. She thought about what had just happened. She had only seen him do something similar once before, in the common room after hours when he had lied to Calvert in the previous year. She knew that it was greatly painful when he lied due to his mother's dark spell to keep him from falling into this habit. But why would he have lied to her?

"Did you learn anything about Alcor's secret?"

"No."

He did, he knew something and had knowingly endured immense pain to keep her from finding anything out. She was confused and angry, curious, and excited, scared, but mostly enraged.

Trust. Why? What had she done to prevent her friends from trusting her? She thought carefully. Had she spoiled any surprises of theirs or accidentally tattle told. She had tried to tell about Max's ransom last year, but Al and Scor had been on that one. Well, there was that one year where she took Albus and Hugo under the porch and taught them how to properly peek at presents and rewrap them. But she found that event to be innocent fun and not a good reason to be excluded.

Her curiosity was turning to anger. They were a team, a package deal, one body. They had told each other secrets and trusted one another to keep them. Why would they leave her out? She could help, she was a Gryffindor after all and quite keen on most adventures and could be rather reckless. Scorpius, he seemed like a straight forward guy and had always been straight with her. She found the fact that Al was hiding something to be hurtful but not unlikely, he was growing up and becoming a bit more like James. But Scorpius wasn't one keen on hiding anything, though he could quite well, he never had before. But above all, Max, why Max? She had thought and been quite pleased that the whole keeping secrets deal from last year had been resolved adequately. He had told her his darkest secrets and most shameful aspect of his past and earlier childhood. No more secrets, that what he had said, she had made him pinkie swear. He wouldn't have… yet he did… She had thought… She had thought… She had thought wrong.

She stepped into her common room a few long minutes later. Her Quidditch team was lounging on the couches and grinned when she walked in.

"Hey, Weasley!" Ishmael called. "Early morning practice. 5: 00 am!"

Rose nodded silently.

"Hold up," said Isaac Fisher, sitting up from having been hanging upside down over the couch as Max always did. "You're angry?"

She sat over the arm of the sofa with the guys from her team and didn't respond.

"What's up?" Isaac asked, leaning forward and resting on his elbows to listen.

Rose thought for a moment about how to phrase her problem without making it too personal. She made up her mind and opened her mouth, but Isaac interrupted her.

"Wait, this isn't anything feminine, is it?" She raised her eyebrows at him. "Okay good," he said. "Continue."

"I'm one to trust, you know that. But, how come even though I've done nothing dishonest toward them, they still feel as though they must keep things from me? To keep secrets?"

Isaac stared blankly for a moment, not knowing how to respond.

Rose sighed. "I could just do with a little honesty."

"Honesty?" said Isaac. "Uh, sure. I have a bald spot on my head; that's why I always comb my hair to the right. Enoc?"

"Uh," Enoc thought. "I have a wart on my hand from the beaters bat; you're gonna get 'em too."

"I have Turophobia," said Rocky. "Don't judge! I had a traumatizing incident."

"James!" Isaac called over to James who was sorting through a pile of leaves in front of the fireplace with Tyler. "Honesty!"

"I think pandas are fat," said James matter a factly with a smug look at Tyler.

"Well I think giraffes are the oddest-looking animals in existence," Tyler joined in with a look at James who scowled.

The team looked over at Watson Trout who hadn't divulged a secret yet.

He sighed obligated. "It's true," he muttered, turning red slightly.

The guys roared and laughed as they ruffled his messy blonde hair and hit him on the back.

Isaac turned toward Rose who was watching amusedly. "We knew he liked Nolly Madison!" he laughed triumphantly.

"Thank guys," said Rose scooting off the arm of the couch and heading toward her dorm, not being tired but not feeling better either.

She was going to skip late night studying with Max tonight. She hoped that he wasn't going to stay up and wait for her, but then again… Rose sat on her bed and noticed something silky at her hands. She hadn't realized that she was still holding Max's red and gold tie. She stared at it for a moment, then glared before throwing it at the wall. Rose felt slightly better, then hurried across the room to pick it back up. She grabbed her plaid button-up nightclothes and dressed.

She heard scratching and found Cromwell, one of her roommate's barn owl, scrapping its claw on her school books. Most would become angry to see an owl tearing your books apart, but Rose had gotten to know this bird well enough to understand that it was reminding her to do her homework.

"Not tonight, Cromwell," she whispered, stroking its feathers. "Have you ever felt betrayed?" she asked it. The bird hooted merrily. "I suppose not. I have these friends, right? You've met them. And I thought that we were close and trusted each other, but apparently, it's a three-man deal, no room for girls. Do you think that's what it is? Because I'm a girl, they don't want me involved…? No, that's not it…" she thought as the owl stared at her with its big brown eyes.

Rose lied down in her bed and clenched the red and gold tie in her fist. She had only been angry at Max once before, like, actually angry. She debated whether she should be or not. Perhaps he was holding true to his word, to a promise, to his friends, well, two of them. To her, though, that didn't justify. She felt rage sear through her, but at herself for being so nosy and irksome, then at Max for keeping a secret, then at herself again for being angry at Max for keeping a secret. Talk about confliction.

Why should he not be allowed privacy?

It's not just him, Alcor's involved too.

But what if they have a good reason for keeping me out of the loop? They're clever enough boys.

Maybe they're too clever, don't need your help anymore.

Don't be ridiculous; they've never needed my help. I was just 'there' before.

But you were the 'smart' one. What if Scorpius or Al is now the smart ones? Where does that put you?

I don't want to be so selfish.

You? They're the ones being selfish!

What? Because they're keeping a secret from me?

Maybe they're trying to avoid you.

That can't be the case. Max is my best friend, and Al has seen every side of me.

Think about it. You don't bring any recourses to the group besides the fact that you're a party-pooper who doesn't have any fun. You're nosy, and loud, you think you know better, and you always want to be the center of attention. You're their mother!

Rose turned over in her bed and threw her pillow over her head, not having a reply for her conscience. Cromwell hooted softly and snuggled against her arm. Slowly she felt her scowl relax into sleep.

"Wake up, Rosie, wake up!" someone's whispering voice broke her dream of drowning.

"You have Quidditch practice! They've started without you!" At this, her eyes flew open, and she saw Max kneeling before her.

Anger rushed through her again at the sight of him, and she couldn't remember right away, why. She sat up, rigid as her muscles stiffened and she grabbed her neck in pain.

"You fell asleep angry, didn't you?" said Max standing up straight with his eyebrows raised in disappointment. "You know what I say, never go to bed angry! The tension will tear your muscles apart."

"Can't imagine why I would have done that," she said tensely, now remembering why.

"Come on, we've got to get you to the pitch," Max whispered as Danielle Daniels stirred. "Before certain people wake up."

She did as was instructed and left the common room with her broomstick in hand feeling rather lousy. She was sore and upset, and she hadn't done anything with her red frizzy hair.

"How'd you know to get me?" she asked. "You guys don't come down until the half hour at the end of practice."

"Rocky sent me a whispering howler informing me that you weren't there, which was no doubt still loud."

"Why didn't they send me one?"

Max shrugged unconcernedly. Rose felt a bit of the bitterness that had welded up inside of her slip away. He had received a howler for her not being at practice, then he had gotten up and dressed, and somehow got up the girl's boobytrapped staircase to wake her up. He didn't complain; he didn't rant about the inconvenience of it, nor did he get fussy with her not getting up on time. She reached over and held his arm, partly because she felt a sudden compassion for him, partly because she was so tired she thought she was going to fall over.

Quidditch practice was just what she needed, not to forget about being upset, she was still upset, but to take her mind from the situation for a few short hours. She was a fine beater, and there was nothing more therapeutic than hitting bludgers at people. Max had just been joined in the stands by Scorpius and Al who was hauling food as usual. She felt anger again when seeing the new golden trio and swung her bat which made contact with Watson's stomach rather than the bludger that also hit Watson in the stomach.

Rocky blew his whistle and called the end of practice, partly because the breakfast boys had arrived, partly because Watson was coughing up blood. The whole team flew to the ground, and Rose dropped her broom as she rushed to Watson Trout.

"I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed in horror. "Really Watson! I didn't mean-!"

"Hospital," he gagged. "Take me to the hospital wing."

Watson didn't sound angry as he rarely was, but he did sound stern and serious. Rose hoisted Watson's arm over her neck and began helping him off the pitch. It was lucky he was rather small. There was a rustling of footsteps, and the weight of a body was lifted off her shoulders. She looked up to see Scorpius looking extremely exhausted with large bags under his eyes but still taking the Gryffindor from her.

"I've got it, bud," said Max, striding over and taking Watson from his friends' shoulders. "You need your energy, go eat." Scorpius nodded and took back to the stands.

"Max, you really don't have to help me," she said as Max adjusted Watson over his neck.

"I'm not," he replied. "I'm taking him, and you're going to the stands to eat."

"No, I'm not!" she exclaimed. "I hit him; I take him to the hospital."

"You also just worked your tail off in practice and need to eat," Max replied sternly.

"Well I'm not leaving you to deal with my mistakes," she said crossly, fighting to take Watson back.

"That's what friends are supposed to do," Max replied, pulling Watson toward himself again. "You were going to let Scorpius help you!"

"That's only because-" she stopped herself. "No, I wasn't!"

"Yes, you were!" Max exclaimed triumphantly. "You had to stop yourself. That's your 'oops. I didn't mean to say that' face!"

"Okay!" They stopped arguing to see Watson say painfully struggling away from them like he had been trying to do since the start of their tug-of-war. "As much as I would like to find out who wins, I think I have a broken rip and am going to crawl to the hospital wing if you don't mind."

Max sighed and hoisted Watson back onto his shoulder before rolling his eyes at Rose who took Watson's other arm around her neck and continued off the pitch. She knew one thing now; Max still thought of them as friends, and he wasn't avoiding her.

Getting Watson to the hospital wing would have been easy if he didn't groan in agony and grasp his side with a gasp every time they took a step. Rose felt horrible, absolutely like the worst person in the world. They were able to finally drag him onto a cot where they alerted Madam Pomfrey of the situation. They would have stayed by his bed until all three of his rips were mended, but the Matron shooed them to class. They missed the first half of Charms but were otherwise okay.

"What can I say?" Rose asked worriedly after classes while hurrying down a crowded corridor toward the hospital wing. "Gee Watson, sorry I broke your ribs and nearly punctured your lungs?"

"Calm down," Max advised. "This is Watson. It would be different if it were Rocky or James, but he doesn't hold grudges."

"I still think I should have brought him a sweet basket," Rose thought.

"He's vegan, remember? Mother's a doctor; father's a chicken farmer. There would be very little that you could bring him."

Rose stopped before the doors to take a deep breath and think about what she was going to say, but Max hadn't noticed and threw them open. Watson looked over from his white linen bed and smiled at them good-heartedly. Watson was rather tall and thin with wavy blonde hair and big brown eyes. He tried to sit up, but the bindings around his waist and chest prevented him from moving much in that area. Rose and Max helped lift him by the arms, so he was in mostly an upright possession.

"Thank God," said Watson. "I've been bored out of my mind. Pomfrey's making me to my homework." He gestured to the many papers over his blanketed legs.

"You haven't had any more visitors?" Rose asked feeling bad.

"Classes just ended," Watson shrugged. "Most of everyone is depositing their school bags." Max and Rose both had their slung over their shoulders. "I'm not offended."

"Watson," Rose pleaded. "I am so sorry, really, I feel horrible."

"It's fine," Watson assured her. "I'm still alive."

"How are you feeling?" asked Max, taking a seat at the end of the cot.

"Well, I can feel them mending," he replied hesitantly.

"Painfully?" Max asked.

"I wasn't going to say anything," he replied with a sideways glance at Rose who was gripping her hands close to her mouth. "They feel like microscopic magnets connecting one at a time."

Rose had no idea what microscopic magnets were.

"But Madam Pomfrey can mend bones in a minute," Max said confusedly.

"The broken pieces were too close to my lungs to mend that fast, they have to be slowly gathered away from my center chest before healing can begin."

"So, have you had anything to eat all day?" asked Max, but Watson had suddenly stopped paying them attention.

A small group of girls had just entered the hospital wing and walked straight up to his bed. A beautiful blonde girl was being jostled encouragingly as the other girl's giggles and shoved her over. She was gazing fixedly at him from the front, but Watson's gaze was for a girl Rose knew as Nolly Madison, a caramel-skinned, black curly-haired, kind smile Gryffindor, girl in the back of the group.

"I heard about what happened," said the blond girl with an angry glance at Rose. "So, I made you brownies galore!" she said, holding up a basket of chocolate chip, gooey brownies. She apparently didn't know that he was vegan.

"Er, thanks," he said taking the basket and setting it on the table next to him.

There was a moment of awkward silence as Watson glanced around, the blonde girl (Hannah Young) stared at him dreamily, and Rose and Max dared not to speak. Luckily, the silence was broken by the bang of the hospital doors bursting open by force of the remaining Gryffindor team.

"Trout!" Rocky called, striding over. "How're you feeling?"

"Uh, well," he struggled for words.

"Oooh, not good Rocky," said Ishmael.

"Even worse," started Isaac, he nodded discreetly toward Nolly.

"But you'll be good for practice tonight?" Rocky asked.

"Well, I-" Watson started.

"No, he cannot!" came the stern voice of the Matron emerging from the side room with a cup of medicine which she handed to Watson after pushing through the crowd of girls. "Even small movements in the torso can rip the bones back apart, and we'd have to start all over!"

"Well," Rocky thought. "How long will this take, surely by tomorrow-"

"No, not tomorrow either!" Pomfrey interrupted again.

"But we have the first game of the season tomorrow!" Rocky exclaimed.

"Don't shout at me, Rockward," said Pomfrey. "I am only mending what has already been done."

A few people glanced at Rose who was white-faced.

"But we can't start a game with too few players!" Rocky exclaimed. "We'd be forfeiting!"

"We are not forfeiting to Hufflepuff!" said James.

"We need a new chaser!" said Enoc. "Watson, do you remember who was runner-up?"

"No," said Watson. "They all sucked."

"What about Powel?" asked James.

"That long-haired kid?" asked Isaac. "He's a hippy, dude. Our substitute needs to be aggressive."

"Not aggressive? Have you seen what he does to people who touch his guitar?"

"Hey! I've got it!" said Watson. "Al! We'll have Albus fill in as a chaser! He's done it before!"

"That was in practice," said Ishmael. "We can't legally have a Slytherin play in an actual game."

Rose was horrified at the mess she had caused so close to a game. If they lost to Hufflepuff, it'll be all her fault.

"It won't matter guys," said Rocky, thinking hard. "We can't take on a novice this close to a game; they won't know any of our methods or tactics. We need someone who is familiar with how we fly, or procedures, tricks, and overall style…" There was a silence that followed his words where everybody in the room thought hard.

Then, all at once, in unison, every head in the room, including Madam Pomfrey who had been thinking too, all turned to look, at Max.

Max still had his head down and was thinking of who could fill in that knew all their methods. Someone cleared their throat, and Max looked up, now uncomfortably aware that everyone was watching him.

"What?" Max asked awkwardly. "Did you guys think of someone?"

"For Merlin's sake Vlad, we mean you!" said James.

"What? No!" he exclaimed too loudly, backing up as though they were going to grab him, though Rose wouldn't put it past them.

"Oh, come on!" said Isaac. "You've been there always! In the stands during every practice. You eat with us during our after-practice recaps! You gave us the idea to talk in code, which saved our tails, I might add! You know our ways better than I do! You're perfect!"

Max was blushing crimson, whether from flattery, embarrassment, or fear Rose didn't know, but she was very lukewarm about the idea.

"Rose has seen me play! She knows how bad I am! Remember? Over the Holiday?"

Rose thought back to last year when she, Al, her dad, and Max had played a night game in her backyard. He had been very mediocre, but he hadn't missed a catch. A smile suddenly spread across her face at the idea and Max's face went white, as though this were his death sentence.

"There we go then!" said Rocky, hitting him on the back. "Meet us on the pitch at… well, you know." And the team left the room.

Max looked at Watson pleadingly, but Watson was too busy laughing. "I can do very little for you now, Max," he said.

"Not too hard, Trout, or you'll crack further," said Pomfrey.

"I can go down there for the game tomorrow, can't I?" asked Watson imploringly, doing his trademark puppy dog eyes which he was a pro at and which made Hannah visibly melt.

Pomfrey perused her lips and thought. "Well," she said slowly. "As long as you don't get too excited. I may go down there myself."

Max remained white all the way back to the common room and flopped on the couch when they arrived.

"Oh, come on!" said Rose happily. "This'll be fun!"

"No," said Max. "Watching with popcorn and face paint is fun. But I have never envied you guys."

"Why? Because we're in the spotlight?"

"No, there's nothing wrong with the spotlight. But you guys carry the weight of Gryffindor on your shoulders. The house that wins the Quidditch cup usually wins the house cup too."

"Not necessarily," said Rose. "My parents and Uncle Harry-"

"Were awesome! They were awesome heroes who saved the wizarding world! You need to stop comparing our generation to theirs. We are nothing like them! Harry Potter was incredible, and I am nothing compared to the Golden Trio. I know you don't think about it that way because you know them, you are one of them, but think about it from the rest of our point of views. They are, you are something, and the rest us by comparison, we are, I am nothing."

Rose didn't say anything; she had no idea what to say to that.

"I'm going to take a nap," said Max, glancing down at her watch. "I don't suppose I'll get a lot of sleep tonight."

Rose watched as he walked miserably up the boys' staircase. She had a sudden twinge of guilt. She thought that this would be a fun experience for her. For her to finally be the one assuring him, to be the one who knows more in this circumstance. That they would laugh at silly mistakes or that he would finally understand what it takes to be a Quidditch player and would stop pestering her to do her homework directly after school without taking a nap first. But Max was truly miserable and dreading. She felt as though a good friend would have stood by him and told the team off for forcing this upon him without his consent. But she hadn't done that; she had been selfish. Rose sighed heavily and fell from the arm of the couch onto the sofa where Max had just been sitting. Could she do nothing right?

"Someone's mopey." Rose opened her eyes to see Tyler Garner leaning over the couch at her.

"Not now, Garner," she said rolling over.

Tyler sighed. "Look, I know your problem, really, every Gryffindor knows when your upset, why. I'm not going to get so say it for a while so… you need to make it up with that metamorphmagus kid."

"Don't act like you don't know his name," Rose said.

"You two are always together… always. You need to talk to him, tell him what's bothering you. He'll tell you what's bothering him and you'll be happy again. That's how it's been for almost two years; I'm surprised that you haven't figured it out yet."

"Why do you care if I'm upset?" she asked perplexedly.

"Well, really I don't. But Gryffindor has a game tomorrow, and I need you focused if we're going to win," Tyler replied.

"Why aren't you going to get to say it for a while?" she asked.

Tyler opened his mouth to respond, but James tapped his friend on the shoulder, and he stopped to roll his eyes as they both walked to the center of the room. Rose sat up, interested but also dreading that James was about to do something stupid. The boys climbed onto the table in the middle, and James whistled with his two fingers. Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing to watch, some looking excited, other looking worried.

"May I have your attention, please!" James called in a demanding and authority tone. "I suppose that the greater part of you have at some point have been told off for talking in class!"

There was a murmur of assurance.

"But we are Gryffindors aren't we?" There were a few whoops. "They shouldn't tell us what we can and can't say!" More whoops. "You know what I propose?" James paused for effect. "I say we give them just what they want!" shouts of agreement. "We staying silent!" Only two people cheered at this but quickly stifled.

There was a pause. "You're saying we stop talking?" asked a fourth-year girl.

"Yup," James replied.

"That's the dumbest idea I've ever heard," said a first-year boy.

"Look here!" called Tyler. "We give them what they think they want and show them how little they actually want it!" There was another silence where the room stared confusedly. "What bothers teachers more than anything else?"

"When we talk," said Obadiah obviously.

"No, it's when we don't answer their questions! They think they don't have our attention. We spend a month not talking they'll be begging for our us to talk."

"That's a stupid plan."

"No, it's not actually."

There was a murmur of conversation as students discussed the idea.

"In the name of Potter-Garner, we call strike!" called James. Half the room cheered, the other half looked hesitant.

James and Tyler made a gesture of zipping their mouths and climbed from the table. Rose watched James walk past. She had heard his speeches before, the ones he was passionate about or decided, but this wasn't one.

What were they up to?

Snoopy crept in again as she found herself following them up the boy's staircase. James and Tyler retired to their dorm and shut the door behind them. Curiosity swept through her again as she thought. The second most logical thought met her interest; the first would be to turn and walk away. She swept down the halls until she came across the door with a brass number '6' that was most damaged and burnt and she swung it open, hoping that she was right. Fritz Nutter was in this room drawing out the school grounds on a giant map with many pins and arrows cluttering the canvas. Ortho Truette was on his bed studying Language Arts when she walked in, and both boys froze.

"Red?" said Fritz, quickly ripping the canvas map from the wall. "Are you lost? Or are you just looking for-"

"Shut up and give me Fred's spyglass!" she interrupted, searching around what she assumed to be Fred's bed based on the pile of trinkets and food wrappers atop the covers.

"Yes, your Majesty!" said Fritz sarcastically, taking the spyglass from Ortho who was handing it to him. Rose snatched it up and ran from the room. "Mischief must run through the family," Fritz whispered as she shut the door.

She crouched to the base of James and Tyler's dormitory door and pressed the spyglass upon the wood before looking through it. Another trick from the Weasely's Wizard Wheezes, the spyglass looked like an ordinary drinking glass but when the bottom in placed against a solid surface it gives the user the ability to see through the glass and into the other side of the solid surface. This product was dangerous and only sold to Ministry corporations, but of course, Fred had one.

Rose slipped the hood of her robe over her matted red hair to prevent boys at first glance from realizing that she was a girl as long as they didn't find it suspicious that s/he was wearing a skirt.

She spotted Tyler and James rummaging through James' dresser to finally emerge with a small wooden box that was Hagrid's gift to James in first year. James took a deep breath and pulled from the box two… things… They were flat and small, maybe bread, maybe leaves, maybe some potion ingredient. The two boys took a deep breath and together said four words, all starting with either 'A' or 'O' (the spyglass didn't enable hearing) and put the flat piece of whatever under their tongue. Rose pulled away from the door, perplexed. She turned back to the spyglass and peered through. James and Tyler were now making wide hand gestures at each other and responding to them like they were having a conversation… they were speaking in bloody sign language!

What were they doing? Why? Rose covered her face. This was not what she needed, another mystery. You couldn't leave it alone, could you? She thought. That's what you get when you listen to Snoopy.

She pulled off her hood and turned to leave but found that her path was blocked by probably half the guys that live down this hall. They were all gathered around, watching her curiously, including Fred, Ortho, and Fritz.

"Is that my spyglass?" asked Fred.

Rose looked from Fred to the glass in her hand, then back to Fred. "Yes," she answered composedly, shoving the item back into his hands and pushing through the crowd.

"You don't have to do this," said Rose as she and Max made their way toward the front door for practice.

"Yes, I do," he replied. "I do now."

Rose felt guilty again. She wanted to take his mind off Quidditch in the only way she knew how. "You know, James and Tyler are up to something. I found out; they're going on a silent strike for a bigger reason than what they're letting on."

Max became suddenly excited. "That's odd!" he said, taking Rose by surprise. "You should defiantly look into that! I'll help if you want."

"What happened to let them have their space and give people privacy?" she asked, now halfway across the grounds.

"Oh, come on," Max shrugged. "That was with Scorbus. This is James and Tyler, they are probably up to something much more dangerous than our boys, not that I'm saying Scorbus is up to anything dangerous at all!" he hurried.

Rose didn't respond. She found this behavior of mischievous nosiness to be more suspicious than if he hadn't responded at all. They emerged onto the Quidditch pitch and were both welcomed by slaps on the back. Max placed Al's broom that he was allowed to borrow against the wall of the dressing room as he left to dress into a spare uniform. He emerged with the white pants, red and gold turtle-neck and long strapped red robe with the number '2' on the back. He looked good.

Max was terrified, Rose could tell. He took to the air sloppily and played. He wasn't terrible, but he was no Watson. He had little accuracy but a good arm and catch, but he wasn't swift on his broom, though nobody would know that because the Firebolt broomstick he was riding was a naturally swift ride making him travel the same speed as the rest of the team but not riding the broomstick to its full potential. At the end of it all, the team agreed only to pass to Max if there was no other way, and Max wholeheartedly agreed.