A/N: Lots of people wondering where Harry gets his quidditch ability from, and that's totally legitimate. My thoughts on the subject… (1) In canon, James Potter was a chaser, not a seeker. Rowling has strongly suggested that Harry's quidditch ability is hereditary, so Harry should be a pretty good chaser. He never got the chance for Gryffindor, because he was immediately made seeker. Now he's getting a chance. (2) Harry is younger than Flint, Pucey, and everybody else on the team except for Draco. Harry also had a rough (and sometimes malnourished) childhood. And if we take Daniel Radcliffe's height as approximating Harry's, then Harry is a short guy. All this adds up to lower strength for shots and passes than his fellow teammates. But lower strength does not mean less effective on the field… and that's Flint's shortsighted error. (3) What Harry does have copious amounts of is an intuitive understanding of how quidditch is played. The ability to throw hard is completely separate from the ability to understand where you need to be on the field in a given situation. Since Flint has always run tryouts as a "drills only" operation, he hasn't seen Harry's skill as a chaser in a game situation.

Sports history is full of players who aren't the biggest, fastest, or strongest, but are somehow exceptionally good at their sport. Many times, that player's success can be attributed to that player's ability to understand the game and anticipate the course of play. A good player might be thinking one or two moves ahead for himself, but a great player is four moves ahead for every player on the field. That's what Harry has.

The match against Ravenclaw was an odd experience for Harry. Harry, like most of the school, attended all quidditch matches, even those that didn't involve his own house. But this was the first time in almost two years that Slytherin would play a match in which Harry was not flying. Cheering for his team but having no way to affect the game felt foreign.

Harry was crammed into the bleachers next to Tracey Davis. Pansy was two rows forward, cheering wildly for Draco. Harry was finding it difficult to muster any enthusiasm. As the teams took the pitch, the Slytherin section began its organized cheering. Harry halfheartedly yelled along, just loud enough that nobody would notice his apathy. Intellectually, Harry knew that he should be cheering for his best friend, but Harry couldn't shake the feeling that he should be the one playing seeker. Seeker was his position, not Draco's. Seeker was what Harry did. All those cheers for Draco should have been cheers for Harry.

Despite Harry's misgivings, Draco was a competent seeker. Ravenclaw's seeker was a pretty girl named Cho Chang. Chang generally flew a blocking style similar to that of Katie Bell, the Gryffindor seeker. Both Bell and Chang used their maneuverability to repeatedly move into the flight path of the opposing seeker, preventing their opponent from flying directly at the snitch.

Almost immediately after the game started, he rocketed across the field.

"It looks like Malfoy has seen the snitch already!" said the voice of Lee Jordan over the loudspeaker.

Chang floated upward and into Draco's flight path, but Draco barely seemed to care. Draco slowed his broom, but only slightly. Draco crashed into Chang, and both seekers were sent tumbling through the air by the impact.

Madam Hooch's whistle blew. "Foul against Slytherin. Penalty shot to Ravenclaw!"

Draco flew to Madam Hooch and said a few quiet words. Harry could imagine the conversation easily: "If Chang flies in front of me, what am I supposed to do?"

The game resumed after Ravenclaw missed their penalty shot. Slytherin took the quaffle down the field and scored to go ahead ten to nil. After a minute or so of ongoing play, Draco again accelerated in a straight line across the field. Chang moved to intercept, and slowly moved into Draco's flight path. Again, Draco pulled up his broom, but not quickly enough. The two seekers slammed into each other, and Chang came away from the collision holding her elbow.

Madam Hooch stopped play with her whistle. "Foul against Slytherin. Penalty shot to Ravenclaw."

Draco flew over to Madam Hooch once more, again exchanging words. Draco's pleading must have worked, because Madam Hooch flew over to Cho Chang and said something quietly to the Ravenclaw seeker. From the look on Chang's face, the Ravenclaw was unhappy.

"What's going on?" asked Pansy.

"Madam Hooch warned Chang to give Draco more space. It's okay for Chang to get in Draco's way, but she has to give him enough time to stop or dodge. That's what Draco's been complaining about. Next time it happens, I bet the penalty will be on Ravenclaw."

Harry's prediction was correct. Draco timed his next trip across the pitch to coincide with some chaos caused by the Slytherin beaters, which had drawn most of Madam Hooch's attention. As Draco shot across the pitch, Chang moved into Draco's flight path. It was obvious that Draco had enough time to stop or dodge, but he did neither. Instead, Draco rammed Chang directly in her ribs. Draco's broom spun away from Chang, and the Slytherin seeker let out a cry of surprise.

Madam Hooch's head whipped around, and she saw the seekers both flying away from the collision. Her whistle sounded. "Foul on Ravenclaw. Penalty shot, Slytherin!"

The Slytherin section erupted in cheers, while the other three quarters of the stands began booing. On the penalty, Flint blasted a shot past the Ravenclaw keeper and extended the Slytherin lead. As Draco began circling the pitch, Chang kept a substantial distance away.

Harry leaned over to Tracey. "Chang's off her game. Draco's a better flier, so he'll beat her in a fair race to the snitch. Her only chance is to keep blocking him, but she's already hurt. If she keeps it up, she'll get hurt worse. And Madam Hooch will call that penalty against Chang for the rest of the game, regardless of whether she's actually at fault." Really, Draco's strategy was rather brilliant, and it proved to be remarkably effective. Chang had clearly prepared to play against Harry's style of seeking, and Draco was anything but. Harry knew that he should be pleased for his friend, but something felt wrong about it.

As the Slytherin chasers built a greater and greater lead, Draco cruised around the pitch, supremely confident. Finally, as Flint scored his seventh goal of the game, Draco spotted the snitch. Chang was on the opposite side of the pitch and had no chance. Draco seized the snitch and the game ended, Slytherin 280, Ravenclaw 60. Pansy was cheering so loudly that Harry could pick out her voice among all the others in the Slytherin section.

As usual, the victory party in the Slytherin common room was loud and late. For Harry, it was unlike any party he had ever attended. His first year, he had loved the parties. He had been so excited to belong, so caught up in the Slytherin-ness of things. At the time, he thought that his life couldn't get any better.

He was wrong; it could get better, and it had. Last year, Harry was actually ON the quidditch team. During Harry's first year, he celebrated at the parties; during Harry's second year, he was being celebrated at the parties. The distinction sounded small, but for Harry, who for his entire childhood had never been complimented, never been supported, the difference it was enormous.

This party was different. Harry was happier than he would have been if Slytherin lost, but he wasn't objectively happy by any measure. Good for Draco that he caught the snitch. Good for Slytherin that they won the game. But was anything good for Harry? Not hardly.

Harry aimlessly drifted around the party. He said a few words to Theo Nott and Tracey Davis, who were engaged in an animated discussion about the advantages and disadvantages of casting spells with your non-dominant hand. Nott was arguing that you need to be able to cast with both hands in case of emergency or disability, but Davis argued that it was better to perfect spells with your dominant hand instead of casting below-average spells with both hands.

"What do you think, Harry?" Tracey asked.
"I think it's a mix," Harry said. "It's about diminishing returns. You start out with your good hand, and you focus on that. At some point, however, you have to put in hours and hours of time to improve only a little bit. That's when you switch and start on your off hand."

"But why not just learn a new spell with your good hand?" Tracey said.

"Because sometimes you can't use your good hand," Nott replied. "What if it's tied up? Or broken? Or cut off?"

"If I learn my spells well enough with my good hand, then it won't get cut off, will it?"

Harry left them to their conversation. Tracey was having one of her "intense" moments, but Nott's opinion on the subject seemed to be just as strong. As Harry moved away, he looked for somebody else to talk to. Daphne Greengrass was nearby, but she was talking to her little sister, Astoria. Draco was soaking up the adulation of his fans somewhere, and Pansy was nowhere to be found. When Harry found himself looking for Crabbe and Goyle, he realized how deep his desperation had become.

Across the room, there was a burst of laughter. Flint, Pucey and Bletchley were chuckling pointing at Crabbe and Goyle, who were carrying Draco around the room on their shoulders. Nobody seemed to care that Harry was grounded, not even his teammates.

As Crabbe and Goyle moved across the room, Harry saw Pansy standing in the crowd. She had been so understanding when Harry was first grounded. If there was anyone Harry could talk to, it was her. Harry pushed through the crowd until he was standing next to Pansy. She and Harry watched as Draco, still clutching the snitch from the day's match, waved at a crowd of first-year students from atop Crabbe and Goyle's shoulders.

"Can you believe it?" asked Harry.

"I know," said Pansy.

"He could at least say something to me."

"I've been trying to get his attention for the last half hour," said Pansy. She sighed.

"And now he's parading around the room, ignoring his best friends."

"He looks great, doesn't he?"

Harry looked over at Pansy. "Are we having the same conversation?"

"Draco's always looked good in quidditch robes, but that catch he made today… he played such a good game." Pansy's eyes were large, and fixed on Draco. A small smile turned up the corners of her mouth.

"Lots of people play good quidditch games," Harry said. Like Harry Potter, for example. Plenty of good quidditch games from Harry Potter.

"I'm going to go see if I can talk to him," Pansy said. She slowly began walking toward Draco.

"Okay, that's fine! Nobody needs to talk to Harry!"

Pansy ignored Harry. Or took his words literally. Either way, she continued across the room to Draco.

Harry couldn't take it any longer. He went back to his dormitory and retrieved his invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map from his trunk. Harry strode back through the Slytherin common room. Nobody said a word to him as he walked outside and into the halls. It was after curfew, so the halls were empty.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good." Harry looked at the map—Filch was at the opposite end of the school, and the patrolling teachers were nowhere near Slytherin. Harry was free to go anywhere in—

Wait. That name shouldn't be there. Did he really just read what he thought he read?

Harry's eyes darted back to the library. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He walked quickly through the halls, carefully avoiding staff members, until he arrived at the doors of the library. He snuck through the doors and quietly closed them behind him. At the back of the library, a dim light shone. Harry tucked the map into his back pocket, and removed his invisibility cloak. He approached the light slowly.

"Breaking curfew, Granger?"

The bushy-haired Gryffindor sat up with a gasp. She was surrounded by books from what appeared to be a dozen different subjects. "Harry, you startled me!"

"I guess we're both full of surprises, tonight. I never thought I'd catch you breaking rules so flagrantly."

"I have committed the horrible infraction of sneaking out… to go to the library… to study." Hermione smiled. "If I get caught, I can probably talk my way out of it."

"That's courage," said Harry. "If it were me, I'd just make sure that I didn't get caught." Harry gestured to the books. "So this is how you're getting by with all these classes? When do you find time to sleep?"

"Oh, I make time." Hermione looked down at the table and rubbed her neck with her hand.

"Sure. One of these days you're going to collapse, Granger. Maybe you should make some more time for yourself, and a little less time for studying."

Hermione looked up. "And why are you here, Harry? Slytherin beat up Ravenclaw pretty badly today." Harry was impressed by Granger's careful choice of words—lightly accusatory without being outright nasty. Snape was right that she would have done well in Slytherin. "Isn't there a party you should be at?" Granger asked.

Harry's expression darkened. "I'm sure you noticed who caught the snitch today," Harry said. "Flint still has me grounded. Everybody is back in the common room, celebrating the team like they're minor deities. Draco's holding court and Pansy is fawning over him like she's never seen a snitch caught before."

"Sounds like a normal quidditch party," Hermione said. "That's what happened when we beat Hufflepuff last year."

"But those are my friends," Harry said. "I just can't believe they'd ignore me so easily. It's so… thoughtless."

Hermione was quiet for a moment. "Harry, your best friends are Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson."

"So?"

"So? Pansy is notoriously the cattiest girl in our entire year. Maybe the whole school."

"Pansy's always been fine to me."

"Because you're a boy, Harry. With girls, she can be awful. And you and I both know how much Draco cares about people's feelings. When was the last time he called me anything but 'that mudblood?' Half the time he does it, you're standing right next to him."

"That's just the way he was brought up…"

Hermione sat back, her mouth open in shock. "You're making excuses for him? Harry, that's… I can't believe you."

"It's not an excuse, it's a reason. And I've never called you that," Harry said. "Don't look at me like I've done something wrong."

"You haven't done anything wrong, Harry, but you haven't done anything right, either. You stand right next to him while he says those awful things, and you never say a word. Now you're surprised that he's hurt your feelings? You're surprised that he doesn't really care? What did you expect?"

"I expected a civil conversation with you," Harry said, standing up from the table. "Apparently, I was wrong."

As Harry walked past Hermione, her hand shot out and grabbed him on the wrist. Harry tried to pull away, but Hermione held on, her hand clamped like a vice.

"Harry, wait."

"Let go."

"Just listen. Harry, acquaintances are people who only say nice things to you. Friends, though, your real friends, will tell you the truth, even when it hurts." There was a hitch as Hermione spoke. "Maybe things are different in Slytherin… or maybe I just misunderstood our friendship."

"Maybe you did." Harry's voice was flat.

"Sorry." Hermione let go of Harry's wrist and looked down at the table. She was blinking quickly, trying to hold back tears.

Harry walked away. He was halfway across the library before he stopped. He stood there for several seconds, rooted to the spot, staring into the darkness.

"Damn." Harry slammed a fist into his leg and turned around.

Harry walked back to Hermione's table. The Gryffindor girl was staring at the open book in front of her, but she wasn't reading. There was a wet dot the size of a fingernail on one of the pages. Harry dropped down into the seat next to her and let out a loud sigh.

"You're right."

"What?" Hermione's voice was thick.

"You're right that we're friends. For the same reason I like Draco, I guess; you both treat me like a normal person." Since Granger was muggle-born, she hadn't gotten caught up in Harry Potter Fever the way the wizarding world had. "And you're right that things are different in Slytherin. I should have expected this from Draco and Pansy—it's the cost of being friends with them, I guess."

Hermione wiped her face, clearing away the tears. "And…?" Hermione raised her eyebrows and looked at Harry expectantly.

"And I'm going to speak up the next time Draco calls you a…" Harry paused. "The next time Draco uses that word."

A bright smile broke out on Hermione's face. "Thank you, Harry. I know that took a lot of c-"

"If you say courage, I will throw your books across the room." Harry smiled to soften his words. "Every one of them."

"Er, I wasn't going to say courage."

"What were you going to say?"

"I was going to say c… c…" Hermione's eyes flicked left and right, as if she were literally searching for another word. "c…rrrap, I can't think of anything."

Harry laughed. "Character," he said. "It took a lot of character."

Hermione snapped her fingers. "Good one. Where's Fred Weasley when you need him, right?"

Harry settled into his seat. Spending the evening with Hermione would mean that Harry would miss the greater part of the quidditch party, and that was okay with him.

Several hours later, Harry felt his eyes drooping. It was getting late, or early, but Hermione still had several subjects' worth of homework to go. Harry was considering using her Muggle Studies books as a pillow when there was a loud commotion in the hallway. Harry could hear several sets of feet running up and down the halls. The doors of the library burst open, and Severus Snape strode in, wand extended.

"Potter! There you are!"

"Professor Snape?"

"Have you seen anybody come into the library?"

"What's going on?"

"Have you seen anybody?" Snape was almost yelling. "Heard anything? Anything unusual?"

"No, sir."

"Homenum Revelio." Three small dots of light appeared in front of Snape, two green and silver, one red and gold. Snape nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Stay where you are," he said, then turned to the door and closed it behind him. "Colloportus." There was a click as the door locked.

Snape waved his wand and a silvery form appeared in front of him. "Potter is safe in the library." Before Harry could see exactly what the silver shape was, it had passed through the library doors like a ghost.

Snape turned to Harry and Hermione. A series of emotions flicked across his face—relief, anger, frustration. Ultimately, he settled on annoyance. "What possessed you to sneak out of your dormitory, Potter?"

"I… er… I wasn't enjoying the party, sir."

"And you, Granger. Gryffindor or not, I expect better from you."

"I'm just trying to finish my homework, Professor." Hermione's voice was quiet.

"Professor, what's going on?" Harry's curiosity was aroused. Snape was unusually agitated. Something must have happened.

"Sirius Black was just seen inside Gryffindor Tower with a knife."

Hermione gasped. "Is anybody hurt?"

"Your friend Mr. Weasley discovered Black standing over his bed, but nobody was harmed. The Gryffindor portrait confirmed Black's presence." Snape glanced at Harry. "When we discovered that you were not in the Slytherin dungeons, Mr. Potter, some of us felt that you might have gone after Sirius Black yourself."

Harry kept his face carefully still. Snape was right—if Harry had known that Sirius Black was in the castle, he would have thrown on his invisibility cloak and gone after the convict in an instant.

"I've been here with Hermione all night," Harry said. Granger nodded, confirming his words. "I didn't know Sirius Black was about."

"It doesn't matter, Potter! This is the second time Black has entered Hogwarts undetected. You must always assume that you are in danger." Snape folded his arms. "Professor Dumbledore allows a certain level of rule breaking and mischief from students, but your sneaking out after curfew will no longer be tolerated. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir." Harry lowered his head. "Do you think Sirius Black will be caught?"

Snape shook his head. "The remaining professors are searching the school, but I do not believe Black will be found. He is far too… elusive."

Harry and Hermione remained in the library with Snape until dawn. At first, they were unable to sleep, overwhelmed with excitement and nervousness. During the early morning, though, both Hermione and Harry succumbed to slumber. When they awoke, Professor Snape was speaking with Professor McGonagall. Sirius Black had escaped again.