"Oi, Potter!" came a voice from across the Great Hall. Harry looked up from his breakfast to see Anthony Goldstein passing by. "Have you got the time?"

"Yeah," Harry said, setting down his fork and glancing at his wristwatch. "It's a quarter to three." Wait, that can't be right, Harry thought, doing a double-take at the watch. It should've been closer to nine A.M., not three P.M. as the hands were currently telling him.

"Riiight," Anthony muttered. "I'll just use Tempus next time, I suppose – might wanna get that watch fixed, Potter!" And he resumed his march out of the Hall, chuckling lightly to himself.

Harry, of course, realized precisely what the problem was. Not only was the time wrong, the date was inaccurate as well; it displayed the 30th of January rather than the 12th that he knew it to be in reality. Harry had been using the Time-Turner quite liberally this term, and the watch did not reset to the correct time with each jump – he probably should have charmed it otherwise, but it slipped his mind.

Has it really been eighteen extra days of travel? Harry thought to himself, slightly bewildered. He hadn't stopped to do the math, but several repeated hours per day surely added up fast over a long semester. He considered resetting the watch then and there, but decided it would be a useful metric to see just how much extra time he'd added to his body by the end of the year. Besides, as Anthony Goldstein suggested, he could always just use the Tempus charm to tell the correct time.

He probably should have asked Saul about the negative effects of prolonged time-travel on the body, but figured the man wouldn't have approved it if there were any of real concern. Regardless, he couldn't afford such concerns now, as classes were back in full-swing and Quidditch practices were ramping up with the match against Hufflepuff less than a month away. Roger was drilling the team hard in preparation, getting on everyone's case about every tiny mistake.

That was fine by Harry, who was used to Oliver Wood's strict coaching style, but what irked him more was Cho's behavior toward him as of late. She was equally as cruel and critical towards him during and after practices, making snide remarks about his slight missteps at Seeker and groaning loudly whenever he apologized to the team for a mistake in coverage. He even heard her laughing at his expense in the halls occasionally, giggling with her band of friends and throwing nasty looks in his direction.

What is her problem? Harry wondered to himself. She hadn't been this openly belligerent in his last timeline, when they were on opposite teams. Was she really that resentful about him taking her Seeker spot? It hadn't seemed that way at tryouts, but now she seemed eager to pile onto his every misstep and make him out to be some kind of oaf deserving of scorn. It perplexed him to no end.

He decided to raise these concerns with his resident expert on all these women, Hermione, during a late-night study session in the library. "Can I ask a question that's probably stupid?" he asked as they finished up their Ancient Runes essays.

"Professor Babbling says there's no such thing as a stupid question," said Hermione, looking up at him expectantly. "What's up?"

"It's not about the assignment," said Harry. "It's about Cho Chang."

"Oh?" said Hermione, raising her eyebrows. "What about her?"

"She's been acting hostile towards me all term," said Harry. "Berating me at practice, making fun of me to her friends, acting like I'm no good at playing Seeker. I thought maybe she was jealous of me taking her spot, but she didn't act this way at tryouts or early on in the year. D'you reckon I did something to upset her? Have I done anything wrong?"

Hermione pondered all of this for a moment, then sighed. "Oh, Harry," she chuckled. "You must understand what a difficult position you've put Cho in. It's no wonder she's acting so erratic and difficult to read."

"How do you mean?" Harry asked.

"Cho clearly has a crush on you!" said Hermione.

"I—she—what?!" Harry spluttered. "How can you possibly know that?"

"Well," said Hermione matter-of-factly, "she's clearly attracted to you, but she also sees you as a rival. She's threatened by your talent on a broom, which is complicated, because it also makes her more attracted to you, so she doesn't know how to respond appropriately. Cho likes boys who are good at things, but when the thing they're good at conflicts with her own interests, it makes it difficult to be around you. And she doesn't know how to cope with these conflicting feelings, so she's taking it out on you rather than admit the fault lies with her."

Harry's head was spinning at Hermione's rapid-fire but very logical explanation for what was going on. After a few moments of trying to parse through it all, he had to laugh.

"What's so funny?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, you wouldn't get it," Harry chuckled. Here he was, in an identical situation as in his original timeline: deeply confused by where he stood with Cho, with Hermione helping him process that confusion after the fact. Some things never change... "But why would she be attracted to me, of all people? I'm nobody."

"Don't sell yourself short," Hermione chastised him. "You're a great flyer, top of your class in everything, a gifted duelist...and, well, you've grown quite a bit lately."

"Have I?" Harry muttered, looking down at himself. He had started to notice his clothes not fitting as well, forcing him to lengthen his robes with magic several times. He hadn't experienced his growth spurt in the last timeline until his fourth year, but perhaps being more well-nourished in this life (plus his advanced aging due to the Time-Turner) had allowed him to reach that point earlier. "Well, what am I supposed to do about it?"

"Just ignore her," Hermione shrugged. "She'll grow out of it eventually, or at least learn to be more honest with herself and stop taking it out on you."

"Yeah, I guess," Harry said. "I don't really have time for all of that drama anyway."

Though truth be told, it was a rather exciting feeling to know that someone fancied him, especially someone he'd had feelings for in the past. Cho was a year and a half older than him and rather pretty for her age, and when she wasn't yelling at him or laughing at his expense, he found her quite pleasant to be around. He once again had a fleeting image of him and Cho passionately snogging and had to force his mind elsewhere.

Harry focused his attention instead on his schoolwork, which thankfully had lessened somewhat since returning from the holidays. He'd caught up on missed homework and passed all his midterms, though in the case of Arithmancy, it was just barely. Professor Vector pulled him aside after class and asked what his intentions in the class were. Harry didn't have a good answer, not wanting to admit he hadn't planned to sign up for the class in the first place, merely promising to try harder in the future. Surely it would get easier if he just devoted more time to learning it, right?

In any case, Harry remained diligent in studying and doing homework, and for the first time in a long time, he found himself with a Sunday afternoon all to himself. He thought about what he wanted to accomplish during a rare moment of free time, and suddenly remembered the boggart he'd left in the Trophy Room. He walked into the Great Hall to locate Neville, finding him at the Slytherin table working on a Charms essay with Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis.

"Hey, Neville," said Harry, sitting to join them. "You busy today?"

"Not really," Neville shrugged. "Was just gonna find Hermione and ask her to explain the Potions homework for me...why, what's up?"

"I, um...I heard you were having some issues with the dementors," said Harry, lowering his voice so they wouldn't be overheard. "I thought maybe you'd like some help with the Patronus Charm."

"Ooh, I want to learn it, too!" said Tracey Davis eagerly, setting aside her homework. "Will you teach me?"

"Yeah, why does the Boy Who Lived get special treatment?" Daphne demanded. "We'd all like to learn it."

"It's just, well…" Harry said carefully, glancing back at Neville. "I found a boggart and figured we could practice on that so it's less dangerous. I didn't want to embarrass anyone else by revealing their deepest fears."

"Oh, a boggart? Ick, count me out," muttered Tracey. "I didn't even know what a cockatrice was before learning it was my greatest fear...imagine being chased around the room by something deeply horrifying you've never seen before!"

Daphne also declined to join them, and while Neville appeared hesitant, he decided to accompany Harry up to the Trophy Room. "How did you know my boggart was a dementor?" he asked.

"Educated guess," said Harry. "I heard about what happened in Hogsmeade, and I was there on the train...I can tell they affect you more than most other people."

Neville paled slightly at this. "I hear a woman screaming every time," he muttered. "I think it's my mother...she's pleading for my life, begging Voldemort not to kill me."

Harry nodded sympathetically at this. "Well luckily, since this isn't a real dementor, you shouldn't have such a severe mental reaction," he said. "And if you have trouble with it, I can jump in and help."

They reached the empty Trophy Room, where Harry guided Neville back towards the offending cabinet. He could tell the boggart was still in there; the tattered tarp was still in place, and the light rattling noise could still be heard from within.

"Right, so the Patronus Charm can only work if you focus on the moment in life you were the most happy," said Harry. "It doesn't even have to be a concrete memory...just a feeling, however vague. What memory were you using at the Dueling Club meeting?"

"Oh," Neville muttered. "It was the day I met you, Ron and Hermione on the train, first year. You guys were the first friends I ever made."

"I see," said Harry. "That might not be strong enough, though. It has to be an intense memory, something where you were just blissfully happy. Can you think of anything like that?"

"I'll try," said Neville. He closed his eyes in concentration, then opened them and nodded. Harry drew his wand and flicked it at the cabinet, causing it to click open.

The boggart came rising out in the form of a dementor, towering over Neville and causing the boy to pale and shrink away at once. "Ex-expecto…" Neville stammered, losing whatever nerve he'd previously had. "Expecto…" And he promptly fainted before he could finish the incantation. Harry jumped in and drew the boggart's attention; his family's dead bodies returned, and with a furious swipe of his wand, Harry sent it back into the cabinet with a thud.

Harry knelt beside Neville and muttered, "Ennervate." Neville regained consciousness and sat up, rubbing his scar in frustration.

"Sorry, Harry," he muttered. "You're probably wasting your time with me."

"Nonsense," said Harry, handing Neville a chocolate frog. "You just need practice. It took me time as well. Ready to try again?"

Neville nibbled on the frog, looking terrified at the prospect, but he eventually nodded. He steeled himself once again as Harry took his position beside the cabinet, tapping it with his wand to once again release the boggart. It swooped out once more, leering at Neville and drawing horrible, rasping breaths from underneath its hood.

"Ex-expecto patronum," Neville stammered, waving his wand at the thing. "Expecto...expecto patronum! Expecto...ex-except…" And once again he fainted, forcing Harry to wrestle the boggart back into the cabinet and bring Neville back.

"You lasted longer that time," he appraised the boy as he handed him another chocolate frog. "Did you find a stronger memory to use?"

"I think so," Neville muttered, looking downright miserable. "I thought it might work that time."

"We can take a break if you'd like," Harry offered. "It might take longer than you expect to get the hang of it."

"No," Neville said with surprising sharpness. "I want to try it one more time. I think I can get it."

"Alright," said Harry. Neville got back to his feet, swaying slightly and still looking pale but nonetheless determined. Harry stood beside the cabinet and, at Neville's nod, pulled it open, releasing the fake dementor once again.

"Expecto patronum!" Neville said, gritting his teeth in determination as the boggart drew nearer. "Expecto patronum! EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

Neville's wand exploded with white light, spraying out in a cone of fine mist at the dementor. The boggart retreated under the brilliant repellant, and Neville advanced, forcing the boggart back further. Harry prepared to jump in and intervene, but Neville marched forward, a look of grim determination on his face, refusing to let the dementor past his defenses. Finally the boggart relented, retreating back into the cabinet, which slammed shut with a bang.

Neville released his spell and swayed on the spot, looking momentarily like he was about to collapse. Then, he sank to his knees and buried his face in his hands, releasing a gut-wrenching sob, trembling from head to toe.

Harry approached Neville carefully, placing a gentle shoulder on the boy's back. "That was brilliant, Neville," Harry praised him. "Way better than I ever managed my first try. Can I ask what memory you used that time?"

"I don't...it's stupid…" Neville sniffed, hastily wiping his tears away.

"If you're too embarrassed to share, you don't have to," Harry said quickly.

Neville's breathing slowed, and he visibly began to relax a bit. "It's nothing really," he muttered. "It's just...my Gran showed me a picture once of me and my parents, when I was a baby. We were all so happy then. I just tried to imagine myself in that moment...when I had a real family that loved me."

Harry knelt down and gave Neville a tight hug. "That's not stupid at all," he said. "I think that's a great memory to use. It's exactly the right kind of emotion you want to use against the dementor, because they can't fathom loving anything that deeply."

"Thanks, Harry," Neville mumbled, and accepted Harry's hand in helping him get to his feet. "You're a good friend. It feels like you really get me better than most people do."

It's because I WAS you once, Harry lamented. "Happy to help," he said instead.

"What memory do you use, when you cast your Patronus?" asked Neville.

"Oh," said Harry, unsure how to explain his complicated past and the intensity of his feelings about his eleventh birthday. "Just a summer holiday with my family. Just the four of us, spending time together and enjoying one another's company. It's kinda hard to explain."

But Neville seemed to understand perfectly well what he meant. "That sounds brilliant," he smiled, a look of wistful longing on his face. Harry felt a pang of guilt at this...would he have accepted Death's offer of a new life, if he'd known Neville would be forced into the same unenviable position he'd been in in his first life? It was hard to say. He at least owed it to the other boy to help him in whatever way possible to have a normal life.

Harry gave Neville the rest of the chocolate frogs he had in his pockets as they headed back down to the Great Hall together. There was still some daylight left, and Harry thought he would make the most of it with some casual flying on his Firebolt. Quidditch practices were grueling and demanding of him, and he just wanted to do some casual laps to shake off the unpleasantness of the boggart. He bid Neville farewell and headed towards the Quidditch stadium.

Harry walked out onto the pitch with his Firebolt, only to find that the field was already occupied. But rather than a team practicing above him, there were only two people airborne, one hitting Bludgers at stationary targets on the ground while the other shouted instructions. Harry realized with surprise that it was none other than his cousin Damian swinging the bat around as Cedric Diggory offered helpful tips and techniques.

Cedric spotted Harry below them and swooped down towards the ground to meet him, both Bludgers tucked under his arms. Damian did the same, eyeing Harry warily as he touched down beside the older Hufflepuff.

"Did Ravenclaw reserve the pitch today?" asked Cedric, frowning. "Sorry, I thought it was free—"

"No, it's fine, just came out for some casual flying," said Harry. "Were you training Damian?"

"Yeah...your cousin's a fair Beater, Potter," Diggory remarked. "Still getting a handle on flying, but he can hit standing targets fairly consistently now. We just need to find him some moving targets to practice on."

"See?" Harry said, grinning over at Damian. "I knew you'd find something you liked at Hogwarts."

"No thanks to you," Damian scowled. "At least Cedric acts like I was a grown-up. You just treat me like a little kid."

Harry laughed in amazement...was this kid really so dead-set against forming a relationship with Harry? The resentment must truly run deep in this timeline between the Dursleys and Potters. "Alright, Dursley," he chuckled, mounting his broom. "I'll give you a moving target."

"Huh?" Damian asked, frowning.

"Try and hit me," Harry said. "Shut me up with that bat of yours."

"Are you sure that's a good idea, Harry?" Cedric asked in a low tone. "We have a match in less than a week…"

"So what?" Harry shrugged, kicking off into the air over their heads. "Not like he could ever dream of hitting me. Or maybe he's too scared to hurt his rich, pretentious cousin?"

Damian glared at Harry and snatched his broom back from Cedric, also kicking off into the air. His flight wasn't as buttery-smooth as Harry and his balance was a bit wobbly, but he showed no fear in rising up to Harry's level some thirty feet above the ground.

Cedric muttered something to himself on the ground, but eventually relented. "Alright, here it comes, then," he sighed. "Bludger away!" And he released one of the two heavy black balls into the air.

Harry rocketed across the pitch as Damian took aim with his bat, smacking the Bludger with a satisfying crack. He made solid contact; the Bludger rocketed after Harry, just missing him wide left. "That the best you got, Dursley?" Harry taunted. "Your daddy never teach you how to hit someone properly?"

Damian huffed with rage; it was clear Harry was getting under his skin. Harry circled around as Damian lined up another shot; this time an even louder crack rang out as he fired the Bludger directly at Harry's head. Harry was surprised by the accuracy; he had to perform a tight barrel-roll to prevent the heavy projectile from caving in his skull.

"Not bad, Dursley," Harry taunted as he zoomed past. "At this rate you might manage to make me break a sweat."

They continued at their cat-and-mouse game for several more minutes, with Damian becoming progressively more frustrated (and aggressive) by the minute. Harry was impressed with how quickly Damian had taken to the sport; his broom handling could use some refining, but he wielded the Beater's bat like a pro, smacking Bludgers left and right with pinpoint accuracy. Harry could sense his cousin's waning resolve as he dodged ball after ball, so he swooped over towards Cedric to make things more interesting.

"What d'you reckon, Diggory?" he called out. "Make things more fun with a second Bludger?"

"I really don't think this is a good idea, Harry," Cedric said warningly. "This is already too dangerous."

"No way!" Harry scoffed, tossing his head dramatically back towards Damian. "Dursley couldn't hit the broad side of a barn."

"Release it, Ced," Damian growled down at the ground.

"Damian, let's just go down to Hagrid's like we planned—"

"Release it!"

Cedric sighed, shaking his head at the two boys circling overhead. He acquiesced, releasing his hold on the second Bludger, and a moment later there were two heavy black balls pelting through the air, threatening to unseat Harry.

Harry started to regret his decision immediately. It turned out that Damian wasn't just skilled at hitting the ball – he also had a knack for timing two of them together for devastating effect. He rolled out of the way of one Bludger directly into the path of another, forcing him to yank hard on the broom to get out of the way. It didn't take long for him to be dripping with sweat, exerting maximum effort to avoid being unseated by his murderous cousin.

Still, he betrayed no fear. "Two Bludgers on one person and you still can't get me, huh?" he sneered at Damian. "I thought bullies thrived with a numbers advantage."

"Shut your mouth, Potter!" Damian snarled, smacking yet another ball at his taunting cousin.

"Make me," Harry smirked. "If you spent half as much time improving as putting other people down, maybe you could make something of yoursel—"

He was cut off by the whistling sound of two Bludgers coming in from opposite directions. Damian had timed the shots perfectly, with one circling around to assault him from above while the other careened in from underneath. Harry couldn't keep his eye on both. He swerved left to avoid the lower one, but the other crashed hard atop his forearm. He instantly heard the bones snap and felt a rush of intense pain, slumping forward onto the broom and nearly falling off.

Cedric sprinted across the pitch to meet Harry as he spiraled down for an awkward landing, slumping onto the grass. "Dammit, Harry, I told you!" he groaned. "This was unnecessary!"

"This had to happen, Cedric," Harry hissed in an undertone, before Damian could arrive. "Let me handle this."

Damian tripped over his broom as he landed, running over wide-eyed to his injured cousin. He gaped at the mangled sight of Harry's forearm. "Holy shit, that's broken!" he gasped.

"Oh, this?" Harry grinned easily, brandishing the arm (and trying very hard not to cry out in pain). "I've had worse. Nice shot, Dursley."

"You...you aren't mad?" Damian asked, perplexed. "Or gonna tell on me to Dumbledore?"

"What's there to tell?" Harry winked. "That you're a hell of a good Beater? This is the sport, Damian. I know what I signed up for."

Damian shook his head in amazement. Harry thought he saw begrudging respect in his cousin's expression, or perhaps it was sheer incredulity at the stupidity Harry had just demonstrated. Cedric looked between the two of them, clearly uncomfortable but respecting Harry's request not to intervene.

"Listen, Damian," Harry said in a more serious tone, struggling to his feet to approach the boy. "I've been a prick to you and your family in the past. I want to start over. Can we put the past behind us and try to be normal cousins?"

Damian narrowed his eyes at this sincere gesture, still slightly suspicious. But he took another look at the state of Harry's arm, and decided it must be authentic. "Yeah, alright, maybe," he shrugged.

"Good," said Harry. He embraced Damian with his good arm, pulling him in for a hug. Damian stiffened but did not retreat, standing awkwardly as Harry patted him on the back and then pulled away.

"Harry, let me help you up to the Hospital Wing—" Cedric said nervously.

"Don't bother; I can still walk," Harry grinned. "I'm fine, trust me...go on to Hagrid's." But in truth, his arm felt like it was on fire, and Harry hustled to the Hospital Wing as soon as he was out of sight of the other two. He paused briefly to vomit in the grass on the way back to the castle, nearly blinded by the pain.

It was well worth it, though. He could deal with a broken bone or two. He didn't want to endure a broken relationship with Damian for the remainder of his new life.

Roger was furious when he learned about Harry's little stunt at practice the following day. Harry insisted that he was fine, that Madam Pomfrey had mended the bones instantly, though his broom arm was still rather stiff as he pushed through the rigors of team drills. He didn't protest or betray his discomfort, however, knowing it was a necessary price to pay to start a new chapter with his cousin.

Harry paid closer attention to Cho's behavior towards him after Hermione's theory. She did seem to spend an awful lot of time watching him during practice, looking away whenever Harry met her gaze. And she only seemed to scoff or laugh at his missteps whenever somebody was near her, as if to demonstrate her open disdain towards him for the sake of others. Was Hermione right after all? Did she secretly harbor feelings for him? And if so, did she even realize it herself?

But Harry couldn't focus on that right now. Romance was the last thing he should be worried about, and while Quidditch probably shouldn't be so high on his priority list either, he couldn't deny the thrill of anticipation as match day quickly approached. It would be his first match in nearly a year, as he'd missed the last match due to injury and another was canceled due to the basilisk. Furthermore, it would be his first chance to test himself against Cedric since his previous timeline (which was spoiled by a rogue dementor appearance).

He barely slept the night before the match, awaking early to take a walk through the castle and calm his nerves. He joined his classmates in the Great Hall for breakfast, doing his best not to let their well-wishes get to him. Hermione, ever the steady presence, sat beside him and spoke matter-of-factly to him, explaining all the reasons why he would do great in the coming match. Her words meant little as her lack of knowledge about the game was apparent in her fumbling attempts to encourage him, but the sentiment soothed him nonetheless.

When the time came, he joined his teammates and headed down to the pitch to get ready. Roger Davies stood before the team in the locker room, looking nervous himself but fiercely determined to get the win.

"We have a much better squad than Hufflepuff do," he said. "Diggory's good, but he's the only reason they won their last match. Harry, just beat him to that Snitch and we stand a great chance at winning."

"I will," Harry said, hoping he sounded strong in his conviction. He knew Cedric was a formidable foe, but he had plenty of experience under his belt as well and the fastest broom in the world, giving him more than a fair chance at besting the older boy.

The restless cheers of the crowd began to rise to a crescendo, and Roger led the team down the tunnel towards the pitch. The Ravenclaws mounted their brooms and shot out into the crisp February sky to the raucous cheers of their student section.

"And here come the Ravenclaws!" Lee Jordan announced to the crowd. "Fresh off a loss to Gryffindor, they hope for great things today from replacement Seeker Harry Potter!" A sizable cheer rose from the Ravenclaw section, and Harry spotted his parents, Sirius and Dahlia among them, making more noise than anyone else around them. Harry grinned, doing a few barrel-rolls to warm up and hype up the crowd.

"Facing them today are the Hufflepuffs!" Lee continued, as the yellow-and-black-clad team raced out of the tunnel. "They embarrassed Slytherin in their season opener, and Seeker Cedric Diggory is hoping to keep up his perfect Snitch capture record against young Potter!" Cedric did a few laps to the cheers of the Hufflepuff students; he looked cool and confident on his broom, not a trace of the mild-mannered boy Harry knew him to be on the ground. This would not be an easy battle.

The two teams faced off at the center line as Madam Hooch walked onto the field with the heavy equipment box. She released both Bludgers and the Snitch, then blew her whistle and tossed the Quaffle into the air, signaling the start of the match.

"And Hufflepuff has possession!" Lee Jordan shouted. "Preece passes to Macavoy, who passes to Applebee, back to Preece...oh, and a nice steal from Ravenclaw's Cho Chang! She passes upfield to Davies, who dodges a nice Bludger there…"

Harry did his best to tune out the action of the match below, circling overhead in search of the Snitch. Cedric was not far away, clearing keeping one eye on Harry as well as the field – Harry had the faster broom and Cedric couldn't afford to let him get a head start on the Snitch. Harry tried to take advantage of this by zooming away from Cedric, forcing the bigger but slower boy to race after him to keep him in sight.

"DAVIES SCORES!" Lee shouted, and the Ravenclaws erupted in cheers. "Ravenclaw leads 10-nil!"

One of Hufflepuff's Beaters fired a Bludger at Harry in frustration; Harry merely rolled away from it, not deviating from his search. Keep targeting me, Harry thought, silently egging the boy on. Let our Chasers run up the score…

As Davies had predicted in practice, the Ravenclaw Chasers far outmatched Hufflepuff's, and Harry put all concerns of the Quaffle game aside. He didn't have to worry about the score at all – he just had to beat Cedric to the Snitch. He was by far Hufflepuff's best player, and Harry could sense his frustration as his team fell behind 30-0...Cedric was being forced to win the game single-handedly as he had against Malfoy and Slytherin in their last match.

Harry suddenly saw the Snitch darting between the Hufflepuff Keeper's legs, and rocketed after it. "Potter's seen the Snitch!" Lee announced. "Diggory in pursuit...he has an angle...ooh, a near miss there!"

Harry was forced to swerve out of Cedric's path as he blocked the path to the Snitch, having reacted perfectly to Harry's sudden burst of speed. Harry raced around him, trying to lose the larger Seeker, but Cedric was savvy, keeping himself firmly in the way. Harry would have to do something drastic to get around him…

He slammed hard into Cedric's shoulder, succeeding only in bruising his own against the unmovable object. But his plan wasn't to unseat Cedric. He swerved again, and Cedric braced to block him again, but Harry yanked upwards on his broom to roll cleanly over the Hufflepuff as he prepared for a body shot that never came. Cedric's head swiveled around just in time to watch Harry put on a final burst of speed and snatch the Snitch from right under the Hufflepuff Keeper's nose.

"AND POTTER HAS IT!" Lee shouted as the crowd exploded once more. "A brilliant maneuver to avoid the body block! Ravenclaw leads, 80-0!"

As play resumed, Harry noticed the Hufflepuff Beaters targeting him with greater intensity, forcing him to maneuver carefully to avoid being knocked out of the air. Fine by me, Harry thought. As long as our own Beaters do the same to Cedric, this is manageable—

But to his alarm, Roger seemed to be directing his Beaters into a coordinated attack on goal alongside the Chasers, using the numbers advantage to his benefit. No! Harry thought with dismay. We already have the lead...we need to focus on Cedric!

But his silent pleas went unheeded. Cedric was left completely to his own devices as Harry performed a delicate dance against both Bludgers. He prayed for an opening to catch the second Snitch quickly and put the match away, but he didn't have an ounce of breathing space. I could use a hand here, Harry thought as he tried to get his Beaters' attention, but they ignored him in favor of targeting Hufflepuff's Keeper. He's not saving the goals anyway…

And his worst nightmare came true: Cedric spotted the Snitch first, racing after it as Harry struggled to get a clean line without being pelted from both sides. He did an awkward pirouette to lose both Bludgers at once, but before he could make use of his newfound space to catch up with Cedric, the older boy had already snatched the golden ball, earning him a roar of approval from the Hufflepuffs.

"DIGGORY SCORES!" Lee shouted excitedly. "He brings it to within thirty points for Hufflepuff...the third Snitch could decide it!"

"Knock him on his ass!" Harry shouted angrily to his Beaters as the teams reset at center field once more. "I'm playing three against one here!"

"Focus on your own job, Potter!" Cho said snidely. Easy for her to say with no Bludgers threatening to send her to the Hospital Wing, Harry thought. But he held his tongue, focusing all his energy on catching the third Snitch and securing victory for his team.

Play was just as fast and furious when the final period began, and Harry continued to perform ridiculous maneuvers to stay on his broom. He kept level with Cedric, hoping to stay close enough to at least make the Bludgers perilous to him as well. This worked to an extent, but had the side effect of giving the heavier Cedric free reign to bump and jostle him, creating a new hazard.

This can't continue, Harry realized as the three-on-one assault on his safety went unabated by his own Beaters. He had to end the match quickly, or he'd end up with more broken bones and a loss. So he took a new tactic, flattening himself against his broom and shooting off across the field.

"Potter looks like he's seen something!" Lee said. "Diggory's hot in pursuit...oh, and here come the Bludgers…"

Harry heard the heavy black ball careening in from his left. He did not deviate course, aiming for his intended target without delay. He finally yanked hard on his broom, coming to a complete stop just feet from one of Hufflepuff's Beaters. He saw the look of surprise in the Beater's eyes, milliseconds before the Bludger chasing Harry slammed into the Beater's chest and sent him spiraling down to the ground, where he collapsed as Madam Pomfrey rushed out to tend to him.

"Oh, a nasty maneuver by Potter there!" said Lee as the Hufflepuffs groaned their displeasure. "Rickett is gonna be feeling that one in the morning! And Potter resumes his search for the Snitch, Diggory not far behind…"

Harry remained laser-focused, eyes peeled for any sign of the golden ball. With one enemy Beater down, he had far more room to maneuver, and felt like he finally had a chance to breathe. Better yet, Roger seemed to finally wise up and direct one Ravenclaw Beater to assist Harry, harassing Cedric and keeping Bludgers out of Harry's hair. It would all come down to this final Snitch...who would spot it first…?

Cedric did. He launched after it, diving towards the ground in a mad dash for glory. Harry flew after him, going as fast as his Firebolt would carry him. He was gaining ground, but it was going to be close...Cedric's hand was outstretched towards the Snitch, and Harry raised his own, praying that he would get there in time to stop him…

Then a blur of blue and silver flashed in front of Cedric, forcing him to pull up hard at the last second. He collided with Cho Chang, sending them both careening away in opposite directions and clearing the path for Harry. He grabbed the Snitch and pulled up just in time to avoid a last-ditch Bludger attack, triumphantly lifting the golden ball into the air.

"POTTER HAS THE SNITCH!" Lee shouted as the stadium exploded. "Diggory collides with a Ravenclaw Seeker, and that's the match! Ravenclaw wins, 140 to 60!"

Harry sped down to earth towards the two fallen players. Cedric appeared to be unharmed, getting up and looking upset with himself for the loss. Cho was slower to rise, kneeling beside her broom in the grass. Harry landed beside her, certain she was about to rip into him for forcing her to perform such a desperate maneuver to salvage the win.

"Cho?" Harry asked, and she looked up at him. To his surprise, she wore a wide smile, and she threw her arms around him in a tight hug.

"Great catch, Harry!" she shouted in his ear as the rest of the team landed around them. "Thought you could use an assist!"

"Thank you," Harry said, relishing in her lingering touch as they were mobbed by the rest of the Ravenclaw squad, whooping and shouting in triumph.

The team returned to the locker room, giddy with happiness, all disagreements and arguments lost in their victory. Roger had tears in his eyes as he addressed his squad. "Great match, everyone!" he said. "We can hash out the details on Monday, but for now, we celebrate!"

The team cheered as they changed out of their muddy gear back into school robes, eager to rejoin their classmates and revel in their victory. Harry took his time getting dressed, overwhelmed with emotion and not wanting his teammates to see how much this moment meant to him. He was the last to exit the locker room, promising to rejoin his team up at the castle, and after a moment's quiet reflection, he left the pitch.

His family was waiting for him outside. James and Sirius both rushed forward and lifted Harry up onto their shoulders in celebration, ignoring his shouts of protest as Lily and Dahlia giggled at the three boys. They finally set him down; James had a look of such pride on his face that Harry had never seen in his father before.

"You were brilliant out there, son," he beamed. "Where did you learn to fly like that? You must take after me more than I thought."

"Way to make Harry's accomplishment about yourself, Prongs," Sirius lightly chastised James, clapping Harry on the shoulder. "But seriously, great flying, kid."

"I couldn't bear to see so many Bludgers coming your way!" Lily fretted, hugging her son tight. "But you did so well to avoid all of them!"

"Great job, loser," Dahlia said, a faint smile betraying her mask of casual indifference. "Shame your girlfriend had to get hurt to secure you the win at the end there."

"What a gutsy move on her part," James agreed. "I'm starting to agree with your mother: she's way too good for Harry! You'd better lock that down before she decides you're not worth the attention anymore."

"C'mon, Dad, stop that!" Harry laughed. But he was filled with a sudden rush of excitement at the thought, remembering Cho's smile, the way she hugged him and held him tight. Should he act on this somehow? Ask her out? The thought elated and terrified him, and in his current state of delirious euphoria, he might just be crazy enough to do it.

"We're going down to the Three Broomsticks to celebrate," said James. "You coming with?"

"Erm...I told my team I'd meet up with them," said Harry reluctantly.

"C'mon, James, let the boy enjoy his victory with his House!" Sirius grinned. "He's earned it. He can have a Butterbeer with his old man any other time."

So they parted ways, and Harry made his way up to the castle, feeling happier than he could remember feeling in quite some time. Most of the student body had already left the pitch and headed up towards the castle, and he quickened his pace to catch up with the stragglers just ahead of him, hustling to get out of the cold.

He frowned when he heard sounds of conflict ahead of him. Two students towards the back of the pack appeared to be bickering with one another; as Harry drew closer, he realized he knew both of them: Cedric Diggory and Damian Dursley. The former was trying to chase down the latter, who was marching on ahead of the older boy.

"Damian, hold on, just stop and talk to me for a minute!" Cedric called ahead to the first-year.

"Can't," said Damian, not slowing in his purposeful march up towards the school. "Have to do something."

"You're acting very strange right now," said Cedric. "Can you pause for two seconds and look at me?"

"Piss off," Damian said without looking back at him. "I have to do this on my own."

"Cedric?" Harry called out as he hurried up to the two boys. "Damian?"

Both turned to face him. Harry took in the look of concern on Cedric's face, clearly unnerved by whatever was going on. But the look on Damian's face sent a chill down Harry's spine. His face was blank, and his eyes, normally blue like his brother and father, were gray and devoid of features. Harry had seen that look only once before: on Viktor Krum, in the maze of the Third Task during the Triwizard Tournament. The look of one who had been placed under the Imperius Curse.

"Harry?" asked Cedric, frowning, as Damian plunged his hand into his robes behind him.

"Get down!" Harry shouted, drawing his wand as Damian did the same.

There were two simultaneous bangs as Harry and Damian cast spells at Cedric at the same time; Harry's Banishing Charm struck Cedric in the chest, sending him sprawling across the grounds as Damian's curse whizzed past Cedric's ear. Damian turned his attention to Harry, who Shielded himself as the younger boy began firing hexes at him – far faster than any first-year should be capable of. Harry's Shield began to fracture, and he fired a return salvo of spells as he spun out of harm's way. Damian batted his spells aside, face still terrifyingly blank as he continued throwing hexes at Harry's dancing figure.

"Harry, what on earth are you doing?" Cedric asked, getting to his feet.

"He's bewitched, Cedric!" Harry shouted, dropping to his stomach to avoid two sickly orange curses. "Stun him!"

Cedric was frozen on the spot, watching the two cousins exchange blows. Harry was too afraid to cast anything serious against his cousin, but Damian had no such qualms, throwing a deadly arsenal of curses back at him. Harry knew he needed to end this quickly, before the person controlling Damian decided to do something drastic…

Harry blocked another flurry of curses, then pointed his wand in the air and cast a Concussive Charm. The spell exploded in midair, sending a loud boom echoing across the grounds and shattering a handful of windows in the castle. Hopefully that would get a teacher's attention quickly. It also had the side effect of causing Damian to flinch, leaving Harry with an opportunity to strike back.

He fired every non-lethal spell he could think of, hoping one of them would connect and end the fight. Damian erected a powerful Shield Charm, absorbing each of Harry's attempts with ease. A snarl of rage crossed across Damian's normally-blank expression, and Harry felt a chill of foreboding – it was the same look on Peter Pettigrew's face right before he blew half the Astronomy Tower away. Harry readied himself as Damian raised his wand for a devastating blow—

And Damian was struck in the back by Cedric's Stunning Spell, crumpling in a heap to the cold hard ground.