Fred sat up slowly and wiped rain and mud from his eyes. Professor McGonagall was already on the field, running towards them. Madame Hooch was kneeling next to him and looking at something. What something? George! Of course! No, why of course? He couldn't think straight. And who could expect him to with his head pounding like this? Lee Jordan's voice was talking continuously, though Fred couldn't make out a single word that was said. Whatever it was, it didn't sound polite.

"My Goodness! Are they alright?" Minerva McGonagall's voice reached them from several feet away. Madame Hooch was leaning over George. McGonagall gasped when she saw his blood soaked hair and face.

"I don't know," Madame Hooch sounded worried, "let's get him up to Poppy straight away."

Fred stood as quickly as he could manage. He was going anywhere George was, he knew that much.

"Oh goodness, let me see him." Madame Pomfrey was hurrying across the grounds. She reached them and kneeled next to Madame Hooch. "I heard the commentary from my office and- Oh dear." She murmured a spell and some of the blood cleared from the side of George's head.

By now a small crowd of students and teachers were standing next to the three on the ground, along with the Gryffindor team.

Pomfrey looked up at Professor McGonagall. "It looks like he cracked his skull, I need get him inside. We have got to hurry before he loses much more blood. It's quite bad Minerva."

"Clear out all of you," Pomfrey called to the students now crowding around, "Professor Lupin, would you please help me get Mr. Weasley up to the Hospital Wing?"

The Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor stepped past the Quidditch team and gently lifted George while McGonagall turned to Fred.

"Are you alright?" She put a hand on his shoulder. "It looked like you landed underneath your brother."

Fred stared at her, completely bewildered. There was George, currently losing copious amounts of blood from the head. And yet here she was asking him if he was okay because he fell off of a measly, bloody broom!
He decided not to press the issue.

"Yeah I'm fine, great." He said quickly, turning back towards George who was now being carried in the direction of the school.

"Fred, if you're okay, we've still got a game to play." Wood looked to Madame Hooch. "We are finishing the match, aren't we ma'am?" He was clearly praying the answer would be yes.

"I'm not sure Wood. I think… Wait just a moment. What do you think Minerva?"

McGonagall looked distracted and worried. "Let them play, it will give them all something to do. I am going to see if Pomfrey needs any kind of help."

"Right then. Captains, get your teams assembled!" Madame Hooch said loudly, causing students that had started to go back inside hurried toward their seats. Oliver Wood turned to his team, grinning like they had just won the Quidditch Cup.

"Okay people, we're going to go with the…" his expression turned from jubilant to sick. He moaned and covered his face with both hands. The team just stood and waited, they were used to this.

Finally he said something, "There is no way we will be able to use that plan I showed you at practice yesterday with only one beater, and it's all that I had planned to keep us winning. We'll have to think of something else, and fast. Come on, something, something…." He snapped his fingers distractedly.

"Oliver, this is easy," Alicia stated, rolling her eyes, "Call a break and use a replacement. Jamie Riddsen really wanted to play beater this year." Wood looked doubtful. It was hard to picture Fred cooperating well in a planned play with anyone besides his twin. "Jamie has been practicing all year," she continued, "even if he isn't as good as George, apparently we need him."

"We don't need Riddsen," Fred was staring at the window of the Hospital Wing. Until Oliver reminded him, Fred had forgotten about the game. Now he remembered everything, including that there was no way that Bludger hitting George was an accident. He turned to his team. "And we don't need your plan Wood, we can win without it."

He wasn't even going to bother talking to a teacher about what had happened. He knew how that worked, there wasn't any way he could prove it. Anyway, he was sure that Lee had already tried his hardest. But there wasn't a chance that anyone was going to keep him from getting revenge. The Slytherins were not going to get out of this easily. Fred flexed his fingers and gripped his broom tightly, ready to kick some wimpy Slytherin rear.

"I've always known that George Weasley was a complete idiot, but even I expected that he could at least stay on his broom. How that one ever got to be on even the Gryffindor team I'll never understand." Draco Malfoy's comment was easily heard by all who were standing nearby. Including Fred.

All of the loathing that Fred was feeling towards the entire Slytherin Quidditch team was now focused to one person.
Draco.

"I've always known that George Weasley was a complete idiot, but even I expected that he could at least stay on his broom. How that one ever got to be on even the Gryffindor team I'll never understand."

Draco Malfoy was feeling very good about himself. Nothing helped a victorious mood like a good insult. And now it was time to get back to his game, and win.

He took off into the air once again and immediately started looking for the Snitch, turning his broom in a complete circle for a quick scope of the field.

There was Potter on the other side of the pitch, looking ridiculous in those rain-proof glasses. Draco smirked. Potter looked stupid no matter what he was wearing. Okay, no time for this. Back to finding the Snitch.

Draco hated games in the rain. As if it wasn't hard enough already to find a miniscule, flying ball that is actually trying to keep away from you. He circled the pitch a few times, with no success. He was about to fly to the centre and start over again when a feeling of dread seized him. That Bludger heading directly for his chest could not be a good thing.

He let out a scream and spun onto his side to avoid being hit. The wind pulled at his robes as the Bludger passed over him by inches. He righted his broom and spun in furious circles to make sure that the Bludger was not coming back for him. Amused laughter sounded beneath him, and he looked over the edge of his broom to see Fred Weasley, grinning up at him. Fred laughed again before flying off down the pitch.

Oh…Weasley would pay for this.

But Draco had no time to further plot against Fred, as a glimmer of gold had caught his eye. He quickly started off after the Snitch. Too quickly. Potter saw him and followed in the same direction.

So now it was just a race. Nimbus 2000 against 2001.

Draco was determined to beat Potter this time. He leaned forward on his broom and sped up. Harry circled around so that they were headed toward each other, the Golden Snitch between them. Draco still had a head start and a better broom. If he could just keep it up he would make it.

He leaned forward a bit more. Harry did the same. Stupid git. Draco accelerated his broom to top speed and reached out his hand. Time seemed to have slowed down just to torture him. Potter tried to push his broom further, but it was already at it's fastest.

Draco stretched his fingers and was almost able to touch it. The Snitch. He was finally going to do it. He was finally going to beat Harry Potter! He reached out once more. This was it! Then -

A flash of ginger hair, panic, and a Bludger front and center. Draco went flying backward off his broom.

"HARRY POTTER HAS THE SNITCH!!! THAT'S THE GAME! Final score Slytherin - 60 Gryffindor - 190!" A deafening roar came from hundreds of triumphant students in the stands. "Gryffindor! Gryffindor!" The chant worked its way from one end of the pitch to the other until nothing else could be heard. Only Madame Hooch paid any attention to Draco Malfoy lying whimpering in the sand below.

Do I get a review for letting the Gryffindors win?? Considering what I could have done, I think I deserve it…