The last three weeks of summer were a mad scramble for Harry to soak in as much relaxation time as possible before returning to school. Pettigrew's trial had soured much of his holiday, and now a return to classes felt like another thing to dread on the horizon rather than a happy reprieve. He'd never been given such freedom, such luxuries during summers with the Dursleys, and Harry intended to make full use of it while he can.

Harry and Dahlia spent nearly every afternoon down at the creek with the local Muggle kids, swimming and splashing the hot hours away. Harry hoped that he wasn't expected to know anyone's names from his first eleven years of life he'd skipped over in this timeline, but no one seemed to pay him any mind except to bring him in as a partner for water wars. He even managed to smooth things over when a seven-year-old girl displayed accidental magic, convincing the other kids that her teleportation from the rope swing to shore was just a trick of the light.

Harry also made a point every weekend to drag his father down to the nearby field (which was warded from prying Muggle eyes) to practice flying maneuvers on James' old Cleansweep. It wasn't the fastest or most agile broom, but it had a good all-around balance that Harry felt he could do reasonably well with. He knew he would have tough competition at tryouts with Cho Chang also going for Seeker, and wanted to get back into playing shape as soon as possible.

September 1st arrived far too soon, and as usual, the Potters were running late. No matter what timeline Harry was in, he always managed to procrastinate packing until the last possible second. Couple that with Dahlia struggling to corral Calvin the Kneazle into his cage, and Harry needing to double back to retrieve his father's broom from the shed, and it was nearing eleven when they finally reached King's Cross.

Harry had missed the Hogwarts Express in his original second year, thanks to Dobby sealing the platform entrance for him and Ron. He knew his father could arrange alternate transport for him and Dahlia if they were late, but he knew he had to get to the train this time. It would be his best chance to get to Ginny and take Tom Riddle's diary from her before it disappeared into the girls' dorms for the remainder of the year.

Luckily, they reached the platform with five minutes to spare, and James and Lily said their goodbyes. "Write to us as much as you like," Lily told Dahlia, who was looking a bit green at the prospect of leaving her parents for the first time ever. "Your brother will keep an eye on you, won't you, Harry?"

"Sure will," Harry said, slinging an arm across his sister's shoulders (which she shrugged away from).

"You take care of yourself as well," James said, giving Harry a hug. "Study hard, but don't overwork yourself. And let us know how Quidditch tryouts go!"

"I will," Harry nodded. The Hogwarts Express sounded its whistle, signaling its impending departure, and James and Lily said their final goodbyes as Harry and Dahlia rushed to the nearest train door to embark on their journey.

As the Potter children filed into the compartment hall behind a gaggle of other students, Harry spotted a familiar mane of long red hair just ahead of him: Ginny Weasley, her book bag slung loosely over her shoulder. Harry's stomach lurched: this was the closest he was bound to ever get to the diary. This might be my only chance, he thought grimly.

Harry surreptitiously drew his wand and aimed it through the mass of jostling bodies at Ginny's bag. "Accio diary!" he muttered under his breath, hoping he could filch it without anybody noticing.

The result was absolute chaos. Ginny's bag was flung upwards at him as her diary fought to break loose of the other books around it – but so too did the bags of several other girls in close proximity. There were several surprise yelps as books went tumbling all over the floor at Harry's feet. Harry had underestimated how many of the girls also carried diaries that had responded to the Summoning Charm.

Girls began to bend over to collect their belongings, unsure of what had happened. Harry spied Tom Riddle's diary sitting near the bottom of the pile and, heart pounding, reached forward to grab it. But he was suddenly blasted backwards by a Banishing Charm, throwing him against the back wall of the train compartment with a painful thud.

"What're you on about, Potter?" demanded Fred Weasley, wand drawn, as he and his twin brother stalked down the hallway towards Harry through the crowd of awed first-years.

"Trying to lift our sister's diary, are you?" George asked, glaring at him. "Don't think we didn't see that!"

"N-no!" Harry stammered, suddenly aware of the shocked faces staring at him. "I just...that diary doesn't belong to her—"

"You stay away from our baby sister, you hear?" Fred barked, wand aimed directly at Harry's face in cool rage. George looked equally murderous – and Harry couldn't exactly blame them, given that they believed Harry was some kind of weirdo trying to steal their sister's diary. Which, technically, he was.

"Yeah, yeah, alright!" Harry said bitterly. He glanced back at the ground, but Riddle's diary was now out of sight; Ginny now clutched her book bag tightly to her chest, eyeing Harry with a look of utmost fear and disgust. Fred and George slung their arms around her and guided her down the hall, while the remaining girls shot him looks of disdain before stalking off – including Dahlia, to Harry's dismay.

Great, now I'll be labeled as some kind of pervert, Harry sighed inwardly. Worse yet, the diary was even farther from his grasp now than ever before...it wasn't as though he could politely knock on Ginny's compartment door now and ask for it again. Dejected, he made his way in the opposite direction to find a place to sit.

Harry eventually came across a compartment filled with girls from his year, including Hermione, Daphne Greengrass, and the Patil twins. "Alright if I join?" he asked, and when they nodded, he slipped in and took the empty seat beside Hermione with a heavy sigh.

"Have a nice summer, Harry?" she asked him.

"It was alright," Harry shrugged. "Bit stressful, I guess."

"My father told me all about the Pettigrew trial," Daphne piped in; everyone suddenly looked interested in their conversation. "So awful what he did to poor Professor Quirrell. Were you called in to testify?"

"They didn't let me," Harry shrugged. "I was questioned by the Ministry, but the case got buried overnight."

"Yeah, that's what Father said," Daphne frowned. "Super quick trial, maybe an hour. Fudge just read the charges, presented the evidence, and called for a vote. Pettigrew didn't even get to defend himself."

"Well, everyone knows he did it," Padma reasoned. "No need to drag things out when he's obviously guilty, right?"

"They just didn't want his true reasoning on the official record," Harry sighed. "Fudge would do anything to deny Voldemort's return."

Everyone but Hermione gasped at the use of the name. "You-Know-Who?" Daphne repeated, wide-eyed. "Longbottom said he was back, but we all assumed he was lying for attention."

"Afraid not," Harry lamented. "He's still out there, trying to regain his power."

"Dumbledore wouldn't let him," Parvati said adamantly. "He'll find a way to stop him."

Harry wanted to set her straight, to remind her that Dumbledore let Voldemort inhabit the school for nearly a full year without noticing. But the mood had soured and everyone appeared apprehensive, so he decided to leave it be. "Yeah, he will," Harry agreed. "Daphne, how was your break?"

Harry leaned back and listened as the others shared their summer experiences. It helped take his mind off of his many worries for a while. Hermione excitedly recounted her holiday to France with her parents, and the Patil twins shared details of their own trip to the United States to visit relatives and tour MACUSA headquarters in New York City. Harry had never traveled outside of Britain in his life – either life – and hoped to do so someday soon.

He spent the majority of the train ride in pensive silence, brainstorming possible ways to get his hands on Riddle's diary before it could cause any mayhem like last year. He felt that he'd missed his chance to steal it without anyone noticing, and once it reached Gryffindor Tower, it would likely be out of his reach for good. Thanks to the different Sortings in this timeline, Harry wasn't on good enough terms with any Gryffindors to hope to steal it back from Ginny's dorm (assuming she was Sorted there again).

It was dark when the Hogwarts Express arrived at Hogsmeade Station, and the students filed off the train with their luggage in tow. "Firs' years, this way!" boomed Hagrid, waving a lantern over the heads of the crowd. Harry spied Dahlia moving towards the half-giant, looking considerably more excited now than she had at King's Cross. The proximity to Hogwarts was likely dawning on her now, papering over any lingering homesickness she might be feeling.

Harry stuck with Hermione as they filed down the cobblestone streets in search of an empty carriage. Harry stopped short when they found one: he could see the two thestrals hitched to the front, waiting patiently to transport their load. "Something the matter, Harry?" Hermione asked, sensing his mood shift.

"Nothing," Harry muttered, climbing up into the carriage and helping Hermione up. He hadn't been able to see thestrals until his fifth year last timeline; he'd forgotten in all the hubbub of the summer that he had, in fact, witnessed Quirrell's death in full this time around. Is it bad if I'm not that bothered by it anymore? Harry thought. Is death something a twelve-year-old is supposed to become used to? He may be no normal twelve-year-old, but he worried that he might become some kind of callous monster if he wasn't careful and continued treating death as an unfortunate inevitability around him.

Hogwarts Castle came cresting into view over the horizon as the carriages rumbled down the path onto the grounds. Harry would never get tired of the sight – even if school term was more stressful now, he would always think of this place as his second home. When the carriages pulled up to the great oak doors, Harry followed the throng of students into the Great Hall and took his seat at the Ravenclaw table.

"Do you see Ron and Neville anywhere?" Hermione asked, standing to get a better view of the Great Hall.

"No," Harry frowned. "I assumed you knew where they were."

"I didn't see them on the train, or at either station," Hermione frowned. "Strange...well, I'm sure they'll turn up eventually."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. He wondered if the two boys had been blocked from entering Platform 9 ¾ as he had in his original timeline, and if they were on their way to the school in a flying Ford Anglia at this very moment…

The first-years arrived soon after, filing in through a side entrance as Harry was busy greeting his dorm mates. The too-small students formed a semi-circle around Professor McGonagall, who brandished the Sorting Hat in one hand and a scroll in the other. "When I call your name, step forward and sit on the stool," she announced. "Baines, Taylor."

Harry paid rapt attention to the Sorting, which he'd missed in his original second year. He recognized several of the young students waiting their turn – former DA members – and his heart leapt at the opportunity to get to interact with them again. They may be tiny and nervous now, but he knew several of them had the potential to grow into capable fighters and fiercely loyal friends.

As an excited Colin Creevey was sorted into Gryffindor, Harry noticed a few of the first-years giggling and giving one of their own a wide berth towards the end of the pack. Harry craned his neck and spotted a short first-year girl, drenched head to toe and shivering wet. His heart sank at the familiar mess of platinum-blonde hair, realizing that the poor girl was already off to a rough start at Hogwarts.

"Lovegood, Luna" was called, and the shivering girl stepped forward to sit on the stool. McGonagall took pity on her with a Drying Charm before placing the hat atop her head.

The Hat deliberated for about a minute before declaring, "RAVENCLAW!" Luna scurried off the stool and drifted towards the blue and bronze table.

"What on earth are those earrings?" giggled Padma Patil as they watched the blonde approach.

"Who's gonna get stuck sitting next to the weirdo?" wondered Terry Boot aloud.

But Harry immediately scooted over on his bench and waved Luna over. She looked mildly surprised by the kind gesture (as did all of Harry's year mates), but the blonde walked over and sat beside him.

"Hi, Luna, I'm Harry Potter," said Harry, extending a hand towards her.

"Hello, Harry Potter," said Luna in her typical serene voice (though much higher and squeakier than Harry remembered). "I like your eyes; they're very green."

"I like your earrings; they're very red," Harry replied, glancing at her trademark radish jewelry. "Did you fall into the lake, by chance?"

"Oh, no, I was pushed in by one of my boat mates," Luna said airily, as though it was no bother at all. "But I managed to hold onto the side until we reached the shore."

A couple nearby Ravenclaws snickered at this matter-of-fact statement, but Harry was unamused. "That was not okay for them to do," he said sternly. "If anyone bothers you like that again, tell a teacher or a prefect and they'll sort it out."

"Okay," Luna shrugged indifferently, but Harry could tell the girl was silently pleased someone had stuck up for her. He ignored the odd looks of his classmates and returned his attention to the Sorting.

After "Pickering, Adam" took his seat, McGonagall announced, "Potter, Dahlia!" Harry straightened as his younger sister nervously stepped up to the stool. The Hat didn't take long to reach its verdict, shouting, "GRYFFINDOR!" within the first thirty seconds. Dahlia beamed as she skipped down to join the vaunted house of her parents. Good for her, Harry thought. There were plenty of good eggs in Gryffindor that would make her feel at home.

"Weasley, Ginevra" was called up second to last. Harry watched the young redhead carefully; she looked nervous but no worse for wear otherwise. She must not be feeling the debilitating effects of the diary – Tom Riddle had yet to truly sink his teeth into her. Ginny was also sorted into Gryffindor, grinning excitedly as she took her seat beside Dahlia. Harry felt a bit uneasy about his sister being in such close proximity to a dangerous artifact, but if he had his way, it would only be temporary.

After "Young, Tamika" went to Slytherin, Dumbledore stood from his seat to address the students. "Welcome, one and all, to another year at Hogwarts!" he announced. "Before we begin, we have a few staff changes to announce. Please give a warm round of applause for our new caretaker, Argus Filch."

There was a polite smattering of hands for the man standing awkwardly in the corner, clutching Mrs. Norris close to his chest. The man did not appear as bitter and surly as in Harry's last timeline, as was gazing around the Great Hall in awe – clearly Hogwarts was still a novelty for the Squib.

"And filling in the vacated post of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," said Dumbledore with a gesture to his left, "is Gilderoy Lockhart!"

There was a cacophony of excited screams from Hogwarts' female population as Lockhart stood and gave a sweeping bow to the room. Harry noted the looks of indifference from many of his male classmates, and wondered how long it would take until they, too, realized what a fraud the man was.

"Enjoy the coming year, everyone," Dumbledore winked. "And now, we feast!" And great helpings of food appeared atop the four house tables, inviting the student body to eat. The Hall was suddenly filled with a great clattering of dishes and silverware as students began piling their plates high.

Harry felt wide eyes upon him as he reached for the mashed potatoes, and turned to see the blonde first-year peering curiously at him. "Something the matter, Luna?" he asked conversationally as he kept pulling dishes toward him.

"Your head is full of nargles, Harry," Luna remarked serenely. "Do they ever talk to you?"

"No, I'm afraid they don't," Harry chuckled. He'd forgotten how out-there Luna's beliefs could be, but he found it a refreshing change of pace from the no-nonsense dispositions of his fellow Ravenclaws. "Do they talk to you?"

"Oh, all the time!" Luna nodded fervently. "They whisper to me sometimes. And right now they're telling me that there's something different about you."

"Different in a good or a bad way?" Harry chuckled, biting into a chicken drum.

"They aren't sure yet," Luna shrugged. "But you don't seem dangerous to me, so I think a good way."

"That's nice to hear," Harry grinned. "You seem different in a good way too, Luna."

Luna said nothing in response to this compliment, but her face went a little pink as she began to load her own plate with food. Harry's dorm mates raised an eyebrow at him, regarding Luna with some distaste, but Harry ignored them. Knowing what he did from his last timeline – what Luna had done for him – he'd take her as a friend over the rest of Ravenclaw House any day of the week.

A loud voice from a few seats down drew Harry's attention, and he turned to see Roger Davies boasting loudly to his fellow fifth-year mates. "I've made Quidditch captain this year, now that Lynch is gone," he preened. "We'll have to find a replacement Seeker, but I feel good about our chances this year."

"Don't you worry about that," said Cho Chang from across the table. "I've been training at Seeker for five years."

"That so?" Roger grinned. "Well, then I look forward to checking you out at tryouts." And from the way his eyes lingered on Cho for a second longer than necessary, Harry deduced that he meant this in more ways than one. He just hoped that Roger would take more factors into account than physical attractiveness when choosing a Seeker.

Once the students had eaten their fill, the scraping of dishes was replaced by the scraping of benches as everyone stood to retire to their common rooms. Harry pushed through the crowd towards the Gryffindor table, catching Dahlia by the arm before she disappeared with her new classmates out of the Hall. "Dahlia, I need to ask you a favor," he said.

"Ugh, what now?" Dahlia groaned, crossing her arms.

"I need you to...to keep an eye on Ginny Weasley for me," Harry said in an undertone, glancing around to ensure no redheads were nearby to overhear him. "I'm worried that she has something she shouldn't have."

"Like what?"

"Like a diary," Harry sighed. "If you notice her writing in it a lot, I need you to tell me straight away and—"

"Ugh, so it is true!" Dahlia scoffed. "There's a rumor that you were trying to see what Weasley was writing about you in private, and this confirms it!"

"It has nothing to do with me!" Harry protested. "That diary is dangerous, and I need to—"

"If you're that enamored with her, just talk to her like a normal person!" Dahlia said sharply. "Honestly, Harry, I thought you were clueless, but this is psychopath behavior."

"Dahlia, please—" Harry stammered, but his sister rounded on the spot and stalked away from him. She sped up to fall into step with Ginny, whispering something to the redhead, who glanced backwards in fear and disgust at Harry. Harry could only shake his head in irritation...he'd officially lost his chance to grab the diary before it was stowed away in Gryffindor Tower.

"Your sister is quite fierce," Luna remarked as she walked up behind Harry with the other Ravenclaws. "She and Ginevra seem rather close."

"Yes; that's what I'm worried about," Harry muttered. He was still determined to head off disaster before Halloween came around...he would just have to recalculate after such a terrible first attempt. As a last resort, he could always go to Dumbledore with another 'vision', or perhaps even persuade McGonagall to search the girls' dorms in search of dangerous contraband. He had two months to come up with a viable plan.

An unexpected development occurred the very next morning, when the Ravenclaws and Slytherins filed into the DADA classroom for their first lesson of the new term. Hermione searched the room for Neville at once, as she always did, and frowned when he was nowhere to be seen. She wound up joining Harry at his desk when Lockhart exited his office, looking pompous as ever.

Lockhart too scanned the room, also seeming perturbed by the absence of the Boy Who Lived. "No Longbottom today, then?" he asked with an air of disappointment. "Ah, well, no matter. Today, we'll be taking a pop quiz on my textbooks to test you on your summer reading!"

"Stupid prat wound up in the Hospital Wing," Harry heard Draco Malfoy whispering gleefully to his nearby Slytherin classmates. "Some kind of Floo Powder incident – can you believe it?"

Harry and Hermione shared looks of alarm. Harry had wondered whether Neville and Ron wound up flying the Ford Anglia to school, but the timeline seemed to have deviated yet again. As soon as class mercifully ended an hour later, Harry and Hermione rushed up to the Hospital Wing to check on Neville.

They found him lying lethargically in a cot, looking rather glum, but he brightened at the sight of them. "Thank goodness you're alright!" Hermione said breathlessly, throwing her arms around Neville, eliciting a wince of pain. "Malfoy made it out to sound that you'd lost limbs or something horrible."

"Oh, I did," Neville chuckled hollowly, indicating his heavily-bandaged legs. "Took all night to regrow them, and it'll be another few days until I'm able to walk."

"You lost your legs?!" Harry yelped in alarm. "What on earth happened?"

"Well, me and Ron got stuck outside the platform at King's Cross," Neville explained. "It was almost eleven, and the barrier just sealed itself shut for no reason!"

"So that's why you missed the train," Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "But Malfoy said something about a Floo accident…?"

"Right," Neville sighed. "Well, we waited outside the platform until my Gran came back, and she brought us to the Leaky Cauldron to have us Floo directly to Hogsmeade instead. It went alright for Ron, but when I went through, something went terribly wrong."

"Did you mispronounce the destination?" Harry asked.

"Nope, I said 'The Three Broomsticks', clear as day," Neville frowned. "And the trip started out like normal, but then there was some kind of loud crack, and I blacked out. Apparently, most of me made it to the Three Broomsticks, but my poor Gran had to watch as my legs got spat back out into the Leaky Cauldron."

Hermione's face went very pale. "You got Splinched?" she asked. "I didn't think that was possible during Floo travel…"

"Me neither," Neville said glumly. "Luckily, Madam Pomfrey was still in the village and managed to patch me back up and bring me here. She'd never heard of such a thing either."

Sounds like Dobby must have continued interfering to try and keep Neville away from school, Harry thought irritably. If I get my hands on that meddlesome house-elf… It at least confirmed that things were progressing similarly enough to his last timeline, and the diary plot was still ongoing.

Neville managed to convince Harry and Hermione that he was fine and they could return to classes, which they only agreed to do once Madam Pomfrey arrived to shoo them away and let him rest. That unfortunately meant them walking into the dungeons halfway through double Potions, earning them a dressing-down from Professor Snape. They were less than half a day into the new year, and Harry had already managed to put Ravenclaw in last place in the House Cup standings.

No matter, he thought determinedly to himself. I'll make up for it by winning us the Quidditch Cup this year. That Saturday was when Ravenclaw would host its tryouts for that year's Quidditch team, and Harry had never been more eager for the weekend in his life. He desperately wanted to return to the air and compete in the sport – one of the few things he was best at in life.

Harry arrived early at the pitch on Saturday morning to get in a few practice laps on the Cleansweep and settle his nerves. But they returned in full force when a large crowd of hopefuls showed up for tryouts – over twenty students competing for just two vacated spots on the team. Cho Chang was among them, chatting excitedly with a friend, looking fully relaxed – she fully expected to earn the Seeker position. Not if I have anything to say about it, Harry thought.

Roger Davies arrived soon after to begin the proceedings. "Thank you all for coming," he announced once the crowd settled down to listen. "We have five remaining members from last year's team, but Lynch and Burrow have graduated, so we'll only be trying out Chaser and Seeker hopefuls today." A few people looked disappointed at this – likely hoping to try out for Beater or Keeper. Harry thought it was poor form to automatically give last year's players a spot on the team without testing anyone else, but he was not the captain, so he said nothing.

Roger started by having everyone fly through a makeshift obstacle course, weaving between the goalposts and rings in groups before returning to the ground. This weeded out roughly half the field, as several students couldn't even handle basic flying maneuvers and were forced to retire early. Harry and Cho completed their runs with relative ease, moving on to the next phase.

Roger ran through Chaser drills next, which comprised most of the other prospective players. After a grueling session in which Davies forced student after student to run through a full gauntlet against the other starting players, a winner emerged: Kade Wilson, a burly fourth-year boy who had managed to score a goal despite being pelted by a Bludger at the same time. Harry thought brute strength was a bit of a flawed metric to judge Chasers on, as he was far from the most agile and sharp-minded prospect, but again, he kept his opinions to himself.

"Alright, Seekers!" Roger said at last, turning to Harry and Cho – the only surviving prospects for the final position on the squad. "You're a bit small for a Seeker, Potter – sure you don't want to wait a few years to grow a little?"

"Smaller size means less wind resistance," Harry pointed out. "And I'm harder to hit with Bludgers."

"If you say so," Roger shrugged. "Here's what we're gonna do: you two line up under the goal post, and I'll release the Snitch by the opposite goal. First to catch the Snitch wins a point. We'll run three rounds to determine a winner. Sound good?"

"Sure thing," Cho nodded. Once again, Harry saw obvious flaws in Roger's methodology, but he too agreed and followed Cho towards the goalpost. Roger flew across the pitch towards the opposite goal as the rest of the team settled into the stands to watch the show. Harry mounted his broom, heart pounding with anticipation and excitement, waiting for the signal.

"Seekers ready?" Roger shouted from a distance. "Go!" And he blew the whistle, releasing the Snitch as Harry and Cho both kicked off from the ground and rocketed across the field after the darting golden ball.

Harry realized immediately that Roger had placed him at a disadvantage. Cho's Comet 260 was faster than his father's older Cleansweep model, which gave her an edge in these long-distance sprints. Harry felt he could make up the difference in agility and reflexes, but he wouldn't get the chance to use those skills if Cho reached the Snitch a full second ahead of him. Sure enough, Cho reached the opposite end of the pitch first and snatched the first Snitch out of the air before Harry could get within five feet of it.

"Reset!" Roger shouted. Cho gave Harry a smug little shrug as she released the Snitch and returned to the ground. Harry, grumbling to himself, followed, trying to figure out a way to outmaneuver her.

After another whistle, Harry once again found himself a full broom's-length behind Cho. This time, luckily, the Snitch darted sideways towards midfield, forcing Cho to slow down and veer into Harry's flight path. He took advantage, boxing her out and fighting to keep her from overpowering him. He was still smaller than Cho, and his muscles weren't as developed as he would've liked, so he struggled to keep the older girl from bullying him off-course.

The second Snitch was more elusive than the first, evading both of their grasps for several passes. Harry was winded as he fought to remain side-by-side with Cho for the prolonged chase. Unfortunately, he mistimed the winning catch as he swiped at empty air, the Snitch slipping through his fingertips as Cho once again closed her fist around the tiny ball.

Harry swore at his misfortune. That was one he should have caught; he had nobody to blame but himself. Why had he not trained harder over the summer in preparation for this moment? All those Veritaserum training sessions had prevented him from flying with his father more often. And while the Cleansweep was a fine broom in a live match setting, it was ill-suited for these long-distance endurance chases Roger was keen on testing them with.

"Final Snitch," Roger said, unable to hide his grin at getting the desired result. "Go!"

Harry rocketed into the air, determined to at least make a strong impression with his last attempt. He actually got a lead on Cho, possibly because she knew she already had the tryout in the bag and didn't need to put maximum effort into this last catch. But Harry would treat it as though it were the most important catch of his career (which, right now, it was).

Cho pulled to within a broom length of him as they neared the Snitch. It darted to and fro, threatening to take off either left or right, keeping them both on-edge. Harry prayed it would go left, where he had the inside track on Cho at his right rear.

But the Snitch went to the right. Harry knew at once that he would lose this race, that Cho would manage to catch up and box him out yet again. He would lose all three Snitches, and with it, any chance of making the Ravenclaw team...perhaps for the next five years as well. He could not let that happen.

So he did something drastic. He yanked hard on his broom handle, veering right, directly across Cho's path. She would have to slam on the brakes or pull up to avoid him. But Cho, clearly not expecting such a maneuver, slammed directly into him instead. Her face collided with his shoulder, and she gave a great wail of surprise and pain.

Both of them were jostled out of the air and nearly fell off their broomsticks from the crash. They both drifted back down to the pitch, Harry's shoulder throbbing painfully, as blood poured liberally down Cho's face from her nose. Roger shot across the pitch toward them, landing beside Cho, looking furious.

"What the hell was that, Potter?" he demanded.

"A block," Harry said simply, wincing as he assessed the damage to his shoulder – likely dislocated. "Cho didn't get out of the way in time."

"You gave me no time to react!" Cho sniffled, as Roger summoned a tissue to help her stem the bleeding. "What's the matter with you?"

"This is supposed to be a friendly contest, dammit!" Roger shouted at Harry. "The third Snitch was just a formality, anyway. Were you trying to hurt her?"

"No, of course not!" Harry protested. "I was trying to compete! She had the inside track—"

"You showed very poor sportsmanship, Potter," Roger chastised him. "And you were out-flown anyway. Stay on as reserve Seeker if you wish, but I won't have you on the same pitch as Cho again."

"But—" Harry tried to retort, but Roger wasn't listening. He threw an arm around Cho's shoulders and guided her off the pitch towards the Hospital Wing. No one else showed Harry the same courtesy; the other team members shot him dirty looks as they too filed off the pitch.

This is so unfair, Harry thought as he painfully changed back into his normal clothes in the locker room. I didn't do anything illegal. If Cho was taking the last race seriously, she wouldn't have crashed into me. He'd executed that move several times in matches during his last timeline – against Cho, even – and it was never called a foul. He was certain that Roger wanted Cho on the team, and would have found any excuse to choose her over him.

But there was no point in moping. He would have to ride the bench this year and hope for a chance to prove himself at a later date. And so what if everyone thought he was a pervert and a poor sport? He had bigger problems on his plate at the moment.

Like preventing the Chamber of Secrets from being opened on Halloween…