Harry was late for quidditch practice when they returned. He barely said goodbye before bolting for the pitch, knowing Seamus would scold him in front of the rest of the team, if only to show he didn't play favorites. Ron's eyes were bugging out of his head as Harry tore past them and ran straight to the shed to put on his gear. He yanked his broom off of the rack and headed straight outside, then mounted and kicked off.

Seamus did indeed have some choice words for him, but a few promises not to let it happen again seemed to help. They had a match against Ravenclaw coming up and they needed to buckle down and practice in order to be ready.

The beaters ran drills against the chasers, and Harry lobbed balls at Ron to test his keeper skills. Then he darted around his teammates at top speed as they played, so they could practice not being distracted by the seekers. They finally broke two hours later and packed up their equipment in the shed. Harry was glad for the exertion, and more glad that he'd thought to have a good meal before expending so much energy.

He and Ron headed up the hill back to the school, and he half-listened as his friend rambled on about Hagrid's circus of unimaginable animals in the Forbidden Forest. Ron was learning a lot, and in spite of himself he seemed to be enjoying the work. Harry hated to admit it, but it seemed less and less likely that Ron would join him in Auror training. Their plan to stick together after graduation might not be such a sure thing.

Harry grabbed supper a bit later, just a quick in and out and back to his room for some studying. His herbology class was his worst course this year, and unfortunately it took up a large portion of the N.E.W.T exam. If he didn't master the material, his whole score would be in jeopardy. Once again he fell asleep at his desk and woke late, forcing him to run to class in a rumpled jumble of arms and legs and robes and books.

He arrived as the door was closing and collapsed into a desk near the wall. He scrambled through his materials for his herbology homework, the parchment he'd stayed up so late completing. It was gone. He flipped through his book and his stack of parchments again. How could it be gone? He'd scooped everything up and it had been on top. It had to be here!

Suddenly a crinkly sound rasped by his ear. He whipped his head around and saw his homework levitating next to his head, bobbing up and down in the air. He snatched it and slumped down in his seat in relief, heart pounding with anxiety. He looked up belatedly, glancing around to see which of his classmates had come to his rescue.

Malfoy was seated on the riser behind him. His wand was in his hand and his eyebrow was raised in a gentle chiding expression. Harry smiled weakly and nodded his thanks, self conscious that the blond Slytherin was seeing him so disheveled. He felt like a mess, unshowered and rumpled like a sack of old rags. He'd never had a reputation for fastidiousness, but he didn't like being caught in total disarray.

After class Malfoy drifted gracefully from the room without a word. Harry wondered if he'd had any troubles with the adhesive muggle bandages the tattoo removal place had sent him home with. He supposed not, otherwise he was sure a green spark would have summoned him for help.

The next few days were busier than Harry would have liked. If it wasn't homework, it was practice, and if it wasn't practice, it was Slughorn. He dragged himself to bed each night, too exhausted to even wank. Sometimes he managed to squeeze one out in the shower before class, but it was hard to get it done when there was a long line of Gryffindor boys waiting for one of the stalls to open up. He was starting to feel a bit pent up, wishing for a break so he could tend to his own needs for once.

The Ravenclaw match was Saturday, and the stands were packed with students and their families. One side of the stands was packed with a red and gold throng, and the other side was a riot of blue and bronze. Hufflepuff and Slytherin students either joined the side they preferred or stuck to their own stands, preferring to observe rather than rally.

Harry had managed a good night's sleep and a good morning wank, so his head was clear and his energy was high. The teams kicked off and took to the sky, and Harry circled above the jostling chasers and beaters. A bludger whizzed past his ear, but he expertly dodged the familiar hazard. He spiralled down a bit lower, scanning the ground for a glint of gold. The Ravenclaw stands went mad as one of their chasers put the quaffle past Ron. Harry gritted his teeth, promising silently to cuff Ron across the back of the head for that.

There! He saw a flash of gold whiz past one of the Ravenclaw goal hoops. He was off like a shot. Of course, the Ravenclaw seeker's strategy had differed a bit from Harry's. Instead of watching for the snitch, she had spent her time watching Harry, knowing he would lead her straight to it. He saw her scan the area below to triangulate the location of the golden ball, and then she was off like a shot, too. She had a slight advantage, having been closer to to goals at the moment Harry spotted it. No matter, Harry didn't play to lose. He leaned forward and put on a burst of speed, blasting past her with enough tail wind to blow her off course.

The snitch didn't give up so easily, zipping and dodging and fleeing to the other end of the field. Harry pulled out of his dive and swung around, heading back towards Ron as the golden ball whizzed past him. Ron ducked, and in his moment of distraction Ravenclaw scored again.

"Stay focused," Harry snapped as he blitzed by his friend, eyes on the prize. The snitch shot straight up into the air and stopped, hovering directly in front of the Slytherin stands. The small group of green and silver clad students did not cheer Harry's approach; their rivalry with Gryffindor made them natural Ravenclaw allies. A few held flags of blue and bronze, and their excited stares over Harry's shoulder told him the other seeker was on his tail. Up ahead one Slytherin boy watched Harry alone. He was taller than most of the others, older than the majority of his housemates. His blond hair was neatly styled, not a strand out of place, even in the windy high stands. He stared directly at Harry as he tore towards the bleachers with his hand reaching out for snitch. The Slytherin boy somberly raised a red and gold flag in a show of traitorous support for a Gryffindor win.

Harry grinned, and caught sight of the Ravenclaw seeker's outstretched hand as she closed the gap. With bolstered confidence and practiced skill he darted at full speed past his target, snatching the snitch out of the air with deft accuracy. The referee blew the whistle and called the game as the announcer declared Harry the winning seeker. Victory for Gryffindor. The stands erupted as students cheered and crowed. Harry took a lap and soaked in the excitement, enjoying the thrill of the win.

It had been a close one. Ravenclaw's keeper was especially good this year, and he hadn't let a single goal through. Ron, on the other hand, had hardly blocked a pass, letting the opposing team rack up an impressive 100 points. It would have only taken a few more goals for the snitch to have ended the game with a Gryffindor loss. Seamus, as team captain, made that fact abundantly clear in the changing room after the game. He berated Ron for his performance and demanded better focus and more practice. Ron was understandably ashamed, and spent the after-game victory party down at the lake drinking himself into a quiet stupor under a tree.

Harry loved quidditch victory parties. The students who were of age were permitted to drink, and those who weren't usually managed to sneak enough sips to enjoy themselves thoroughly, too. There was usually dancing and cheering and laughing, and as the night wore on couples partnered up for some good old fashioned snogging. Hermione held Ron's head in her lap and soothed his wounded pride. Harry had no place at their pity party, so he circulated amongst the merry makers who lined the docks and splashed along the shoreline. He wasn't interested in getting wet, now that October had brought a chill to the nighttime air. He retreated from the water and found a quiet place between a pair of nightflowering trees.

"I would have caught it sooner," a familiar voice at his back made Harry smile.

"I guess you'll have to prove that at our next match," He turned and met Malfoy's gray eyes. The Slytherin boy was dressed in a black jacket and he had a green and silver scarf wrapped around his neck.

His judgement a little fuzzy after a few drinks, Harry darted his hand out and snagged the scarf, tugging it to draw Malfoy closer. Malfoy was caught off balance and took two steps forward. He stopped, reaching up and yanking his scarf out of Harry's grasp. He gave Harry a warning look, then glanced around to see if any of their classmates had noticed. But the revelers were in their own world, caterwauling at the lake's edge as an enormous water fight broke out.

"The Weasel was off his mark tonight," Malfoy remarked. "You can bet we'll be discussing that at our next practice."

"He'll be better focused next time," Harry said defensively.

"What's on his mind?" Malfoy asked, reaching up and straightening his scarf.

"I don't know," Harry glanced over at his two best friends, who were now in full repose, legs and arms entangled and active. "We don't talk much these days."

"Probably hard to talk when your mouth is full of Granger's tongue," Malfoy said dryly, following Harry's eyes.

"At least it's full of someone's tongue," Harry sighed, glancing back at the lake, where some students were gleefully shedding their soaked clothing.

"Been a while?" Malfoy asked the obvious.

"A bit."

"I noticed the Weasley girl has been making herself available to anyone who will notice," Malfoy said delicately.

"It's not her fault," Harry said sadly. "She's been trying to get back at me since we broke up this summer. Show me she doesn't need me."

"That's a bit self-centered," Malfoy said. "Maybe she just likes getting around."

"Not Ginny," Harry shook his head. "She's a good girl. I shouldn't have gone with her in the first place."

"She's looking to change that reputation," Malfoy inclined his head, pointing his chin towards the dock where several students had stripped to their knickers. Ginny had her arms wrapped around a Hufflepuff boy in the class behind hers. "She's even approaching the less reputable boys these days," he added. "Bringing home a Death Eater, that ought to get Daddy's attention."

"You?" Harry turned and narrowed his eyes in disbelief. "She hates you."

"That no longer seems to be a barrier for her," Malfoy scratched his nose and shrugged.

Harry turned back and watched his ex-girlfriend's exposed frolicking. If Ron didn't have his face buried in Hermione's he might have run over and covered her up, knocking out a few of the handier boys in the process. But it wasn't Harry's place to intervene. In fact it might make things worse.

And what was she doing coming on to Draco Malfoy? His reputation hadn't recovered so fully as to make him a viable dating prospect. Her parents, namely her father, would never approve. Harry's eyes flashed, feeling a rush of jealousy. Ginny and Malfoy? Over his dead body. He turned back to say as much, but he was alone. Malfoy had departed without so much as a goodnight.

Harry's face burned hotter, drink adding to his temper. Who did he think he was? What if he'd agreed to Ginny's come-on? What if Harry had seen them, lip-locked and humping passionately? What would he have done? His heart seethed with jealousy and he decided to call it a night. He stalked angrily back to the castle, promising himself that he would ensure the vision of Ginny and Malfoy together would never be a reality.