Saturday, 4th November

October extinguished itself in a rush of howling winds and driving rain, and November arrived, cold as frozen iron, with hard frosts every morning and icy drafts that bit at exposed hands and faces.

The skies and the ceiling of the Great Hall turned a pale gray, the mountains around Hogwarts became snow capped, and the temperature in the castle dropped so far that many students wore their thick protective dragon skin gloves in the corridors between lessons.

The morning of Harry's first Quidditch match dawned bright and cold.

Slytherin was due to go up against Gryffindor this afternoon, and he was feeling… decidedly nervous. It didn't help that, as seeker, he had arguably the most important role, and it definitely didn't help that, thanks to Umbridge and her detentions, he'd missed a good two-thirds of his team's weekly training practices for the past month!

The fact that the Quidditch Cup had not been held for so long added considerably to the interest and excitement surrounding the forthcoming game. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were taking a lively interest in the outcome, for they, of course, would be playing both teams over the coming year; and the Heads of House of the competing teams, though they attempted to disguise it under a decent pretense of sportsmanship, were determined to see their side's victory.

Professor McGonagall cared about beating Slytherin so much that she abstained from giving them homework in the entire week leading up to the match. Snape was no less obviously partisan, having booked the Quidditch pitch for Slytherin practice as often as Dumbledore had allowed him.

The Great Hall was filling up fast when Harry arrived, the talk louder and the mood more exuberant than usual. The majority of the school seemed to be wearing the Gryffindor colours, but nearly all of Slytherin and a decent number of Ravenclaws were wearing green and silver instead.

"How're you feeling?" Blaise asked as he sat down.

Harry shrugged, pouring himself a cup of tea and wondering if he'd be able to stomach some breakfast.

"He's just nervous" Malfoy said pompously, "Not that there's any reason to be, of course. I mean, even if you fall flat on your face and die, myself and the rest of the team can carry us to victory".

Blaise threw a croissant at him.

"I think being nervous is a good sign" Theo consoled, "I feel you never perform as well in exams if you're not a bit nervous".

Harry said nothing but nodded mulishly. It had been Sirius's birthday yesterday, but he'd had astronomy with the fourth years last night, so he couldn't call. He hadn't known how much he'd liked to have had his godfather's reassurance about the match until now.

"Hello" said a vague and dreamy voice from behind them. Harry looked up - Luna had drifted over from the Ravenclaw table. Many people were staring at her, and a few openly laughing and pointing; she had managed to procure a hat shaped like a life-size lion's head, which was perched precariously on her own head.

"Ginny says I have to support Gryffindor because she's on the team" she said, pointing unnecessarily at her hat, "Look what it does".

She reached up and tapped the hat with her wand. It opened its mouth wide and gave an extremely realistic roar that made everyone in the vicinity jump.

"It's good, isn't it?" Luna said happily, "And- look! I've got this too!"

She unwound her scarf from around her neck and held it out. It was only then that Harry saw that it was less of a scarf and more of a… snake.

"It isn't real, of course" Luna explained, running a hand along incredibly life-like scales, "But it's charmed to look real, and it hisses too! Anyway, I just wanted to say good luck, so… good luck!"

And with that, she drifted away.

They had not quite recovered from the shock of Luna's apparel before Montague strode towards him, his expression dark and stormy.

"We're going straight down to the pitch to check out conditions and change" he announced, glowering at them fiercely, "You have ten minutes".

Draco and Harry shared a look and unanimously decided that perhaps breakfast wasn't so important after all.

"Good luck, meu amor" Blaise said as he stood, "We'll cheer you on from the stands".

"And if you do fall flat on your face and die" Millicent added, "Then we promise not to laugh too much".

The frosty grass crunched under their feet as they hurried down the sloping lawns toward the stadium. There was no wind at all, and the sky was a uniform pearly white, which meant that visibility would be good without the drawback of direct sunlight in their eyes.

Montague had already changed when they arrived, and the rest of the team was there too. Harry and Malfoy pulled on their robes and then sat down to listen to the pre-match talk while the babble of voices outside grew steadily louder as the crowd came pouring out of the castle toward the pitch.

Of course, Montague's version of a pep talk consisted entirely of, "We beat them, or else!" Nobody was stupid enough to ask what "or else" implied. They all knew perfectly well.

They could hear hundreds of footsteps mounting the banked benches of the spectators' stands now. Some people were singing, though Harry could not make out the words. He knew that Ron was playing today - it would be his first match too, but as a keeper. And Ginny was the Gryffindor seeker with the twins as their beaters, which meant he'd be up against them as well.

Montague cast a quick Tempus and grimaced.

"Alright, it's time. Come on, everyone, and… good luck".

The team rose, shouldered their brooms, and marched in single file out of the changing room and into the dazzling sunlight. A roar of sound greeted them in which Harry could still hear singing, though it was muffled by the cheers and whistles. The Gryffindor team was standing waiting for them.

"Captains shake hands" ordered the umpire, Madam Hooch, as Angelina Johnson and Montague reached each other, "Mount your brooms, and…"

Madam Hooch placed her whistle in her mouth and blew. The balls were released, and the fourteen players shot upward. Harry zoomed higher, dodging a bludger, and set off on a wide lap of the pitch, gazing around for a glint of gold; on the other side of the stadium, Ginny was doing exactly the same.

"And it's Johnson, Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I've been saying it for years but she still won't go out with me-" the commentator was saying, followed swiftly by Professor McGonagall yelling, "JORDAN!"

"Just a fun fact, Professor, adds a bit of interest - and she's ducked Warrington, she's passed Montague, she's - ouch - been hit from behind by a bludger from Crabbe - and the crowd are loving this, just listen to them - Alicia passes back to Angelina! Come on now, Angelina - looks like she's got just the Keeper to beat! SHE SHOOTS! SHE- aaaah".

Bletchley, the Slytherin Keeper, must have saved the goal.

"-and it's Warrington with the Quaffle, Warrington heading for goal, he's out of bludger range with just the Keeper ahead, so it's the first test for new Gryffindor Keeper, Ron Weasley, brother of Beaters, Fred and George, and a promising new talent on the team - come on, Ron!"

But the scream of delight came from the Slytherin end: Ron had dived wildly, his arms wide, and the Quaffle had soared between them, straight through Ron's central hoop.

"Slytherin scores!" came Jordan's voice amid the cheering and booing from the crowds below. "So that's ten-nil to Slytherin - bad luck, Ron - and Gryffindor back in possession and it's Katie Bell tanking up the pitch-"

Harry went into a dive and started circling the pitch again, but there was no sign of the snitch anywhere he looked.

"-and it's Warrington again, who passes to Malfoy, Malfoy's off past Spinnet, come on now Angelina, you can take him - turns out you can't - but nice bludger from Fred Weasley-"

Harry zoomed around the end of the stadium behind the Slytherin goal hoops, searching for that tell-tale glint of gold.

"-and Malfoy's dodged Alicia again, and he's heading straight for goal, stop it, Ron!"

Harry did not have to look to see what had happened: There was a terrible groan from the Gryffindor end, coupled with fresh screams and applause from the Slytherins - but twenty-nil was nothing, there was still time for Gryffindor to catch up or to catch the snitch.

"-and Katie Bell of Gryffindor dodges Pucey, ducks Montague - nice swerve, Katie - and she throws to Johnson, Angelina Johnson takes the Quaffle, she's past Warrington, she's heading for goal - come on now Angelina - GRYFFINDOR SCORES!"

Harry could hear Luna's ludicrous lion hat roaring amidst the Gryffindor cheers and then quickly ducked a bludger that Fred had sent rocketing in his direction with a grin and cheeky salute. He kept one eye on Ginny in case she showed signs of having spotted the snitch, but she was continuing to soar around the stadium too, searching fruitlessly.

"-Malfoy throws to Warrington, Warrington to Montague, Montague back to Malfoy - Johnson intervenes, Johnson takes the Quaffle, Johnson to Bell, this looks good - I mean bad - Bell's hit by a bludger from Goyle of Slytherin and it's Malfoy in possession again-"

And- there!

Harry had seen it at last - the tiny fluttering snitch was hovering feet from the ground at the Slytherin end of the pitch. He dived. In a matter of seconds, Ginny was streaking out of the sky on Harry's left, a red-and-golden blur lying flat on her broom.

The snitch skirted the foot of one of the goal hoops and scooted off toward the other side of the stands; its change of direction suited Ginny, who was nearer. Harry pulled his Firebolt around - they were now neck and neck.

Mere feet above the ground, Harry lifted his right hand from his broom, stretching toward the snitch. To his right, Ginny's arm extended too… reaching… grasping…

It was over in two breathless, desperate, windswept seconds.

Harry's fingers closed around the tiny, struggling ball - Ginny's nails scrabbled the back of his hand hopelessly - Harry pulled his broom upward, holding the struggling ball in his hand, and the Slytherin spectators screamed their approval - Slytherin had won!

He heard Madam Hooch's shrill whistle, an uproar in the stands, cheers and applause and grins all round as both teams flew back to the ground and Malfoy, shockingly, pulled him into a tight hug.

"We won!" he was yelling, far too close to Harry's ear, "We won, Potter! We won!"

And then, just as quickly, Draco jerked himself back, as if suddenly remembering just who it was that he was holding. His eyes were wide and his cheeks were red - but Harry knew full well that if he said anything, the boy would blame it on the biting wind, so he simply grinned back at him instead.

The rest of the team had landed by now as well, yelling and punching the air in triumph. Even Montague spared him a small, brief smile - although it looked like it had physically pained him to do so. Warrington clapped him on the back, as stoic-faced as ever, but Harry could still tell just how delighted he was with their victory.

Harry hadn't even had time to catch his breath before he saw Fred and George Weasley approaching, mischievous grins plastered across their faces. Ginny was a few steps behind them, smirking but shaking her head as if she already knew what was coming. Ron was nowhere in sight.

"Well, well, well" Fred began dramatically, throwing an arm around Harry's shoulders, "If it isn't the snitch-stealing, Slytherin-playing, traitor-extraordinaire!"

"Never thought I'd see the day" George chimed in, taking Harry's other side, "Beating us on the Quidditch pitch. Our own future shared-husband-to-be-"

"Oi, stop that!" Harry interrupted, shoving both twins off with a laugh.

"Come on, Potter" Fred said, grabbing at Harry's robes and pretending to grapple with him.

"We demand our vengeance!" George bellowed in mock outrage, lunging forward. Harry easily ducked their playful advances - he'd had years of experience in avoiding actual trouble, after all - but managed to stumble into Draco in the process.

"Watch it!" he snapped, shoving him back, but Harry couldn't help but notice a gleam of amusement in his eyes. The twins, undeterred, lunged again, but Harry dodged nimbly, laughing all the while, causing Fred to barrel headfirst into Montague, sending them both tumbling to the ground.

For a split second, everything froze and images flashed through Harry's mind - Montague striking back with a curse, the twins retaliating with their own wands, the Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch teams diving into an all-out war, hurtling hexes and insults and pure-blood bigotry and blood-traitor taunts at each other and-

And then, to his utter astonishment, Montage smirked.

Apparently, winning the first game of the season was enough to make any Slytherin happy.

"Watch where you're going, Weasel" he said, shoving Fred off of him, "It's no wonder you can't aim right".

Fred collapsed a hand over his chest in mock outrage even as George hauled them both back to their feet, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Careful there, Montague, people might actually believe you're capable of having fun".

"I'll show you fun!"

The larger boy shoved him, hard enough for George to stumble, but still light enough to be taken as jest rather than any real antagonism, and then, just like that, both teams were brawling. Gryffindor and Slytherin players alike, still riding high on the adrenaline of the match, started laughing and shoving at each other. Even Ginny got in on the action, aiming a playful kick at Harry's shin, which he dodged with a mockingly dramatic leap. It was chaos, undoubtedly, but it was harmless, good-natured chaos - Harry's specialty.

"Hem, hem".

It was like a thunderclap cutting through a summer sky. The laughter died instantly, and all heads turned to see Dolores Umbridge standing in front of them on the pitch, wrapped in a green tweed cloak that greatly enhanced her resemblance to a giant toad, and smiling in the horribly sickly, ominous way that Harry had come to associate with imminent misery.

"What is the meaning of this?" she simpered, her high-pitched voice cutting through the air like nails on a chalkboard, "Fighting? Brawling? Oh no. Now that just will not do".

"It was only a bit of fun-" Fred began, stepping forward, but she held up a pudgy hand to stop him.

"As High Inquisitor, it is my duty to maintain discipline and decorum at all times. And this is unacceptable behaviour! This little incident has made it clear that stricter rules are necessary. Now, where is it? Cornelius just sent it- I mean-" She gave a little false laugh as she rummaged in her handbag. "-the Minister just sent it… Ah yes…"

She had pulled out a piece of parchment that she now unfurled, clearing her throat fussily before starting to read what it said.

"Hem, hem… 'Educational Decree Number Twenty-Five'-"

"Not another one!" George exclaimed.

"Watch your tone, Mr Weasley!" Umbridge snapped, although she was still smiling, clearly relishing in their dismay. "It is boys like you who are responsible for this! The Minister quite agrees with me that the High Inquisitor has to have the power to strip pupils of privileges, or she - that is to say, I - would have less authority than common teachers! And you see now, don't you, how right I was in attempting to stop the Gryffindor Quidditch team re-forming? Dreadful tempers… Anyway, I was reading out our amendment… hem, hem … 'The High Inquisitor will henceforth have supreme authority over all punishments, sanctions, and removal of privileges pertaining to the students of Hogwarts, and the power to alter such punishments, sanctions, and removals of privileges as may have been ordered by other staff members. Signed, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, Order of Merlin First Class, etc., etc.'".

She rolled up the parchment and put it back into her handbag, still smiling.

"So, I really think I will have to ban you three from playing Quidditch ever again" she said, looking from Harry to the twins and back again. Harry felt the snitch fluttering madly in his hand.

"Ban us?" he said, and his voice sounded strangely distant, "From playing… ever again?"

"Yes, Mr Potter, I think a lifelong ban ought to do the trick" Umbridge replied, her smile widening still further as she watched him struggle to comprehend what she had said, "You and the Mr Weasleys here. I want your broomsticks confiscated, of course; I shall keep them safely in my office, to make sure there is no infringement of my ban. You may thank yourselves for your reckless behavior. I mean, really, brawling like common muggles, what were you thinking? To believe that any member of my school could-"

She abruptly cut herself off, her smile faltering and her face paling, at the same time that Harry felt a warm hand land on his shoulder. He turned, startled, expecting to see Snape, or perhaps McGonagall, or maybe even Dumbledore, except-

Except it was Sirius.

Sirius was standing there, with Remus only half a step behind, and Harry was so shocked, so- so stunned by their sudden appearance that he couldn't say a thing… which was just as well, really, considering just how furious his godfather currently looked - and all of that anger was being firmly directed at Madam Umbridge.

"Is there a problem here?"

His voice was cool, smooth, unlike anything Harry had ever heard from him before, and in front of them, Umbridge immediately began to sweat.

"Y-Y-Your G-Grace" she stuttered, her face even more froggish than before, her eyes bulging in shock, "I- I wasn't ex-expecting to see y-you!"

Sirius glanced her up and down in that exact same derisive, dismissive way that he'd often seen Draco use, and Harry had to quickly bite a bark of hysterical laughter at the thought of the look on his godfather's face should he compare him to a Malfoy out loud.

"Clearly" Sirius drawled, somehow managing to insert a wave of insults in just that one word, "I believe I heard some mention about you banning these boys from playing Quidditch?"

"Oh! Yes! Well, y-you see, Y-Your G-Grace, they were, ahem, strong arming each other and creating quite a scene. Violence is not tolerated here at Hogwarts, I'm sure y-you'll be relieved to know, and the- the perpetrators must be punished accordingly, don't you agree?"

Sirius raised an eyebrow, his expression turning coolly sardonic.

"I do. Violence should never be tolerated at Hogwarts… Play-fighting, on the other hand, is, by definition, not violent, Dolores" he said smoothly, enunciating her name as though it were an unpleasant flavor he was forced to endure, "Surely even you, with all your wisdom and experience, can recognize the difference between genuine fighting and a bit of harmless fun?"

Umbridge's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish out of water. She seemed utterly unprepared to be contradicted, let alone by someone who addressed her with such a dismissive tone.

"Y-Your Grace" she stammered, her smile now wobbling, "I assure you, I have the utmost understanding of student behavior, and what I witnessed-"

"What you witnessed" Sirius cut in, "was a group of teenagers burning off adrenaline after an intense match. I've seen such moments countless times myself, both here at Hogwarts in my youth and outside it. Surely you wouldn't call a few harmless shoves and laughter 'violence'".

"Well, I-"

"Furthermore" Sirius continued, "the Quidditch pitch has always been a place of spirited competition, not the site of your draconian punishments. Are you truly suggesting that having a bit of fun is grounds for a lifelong Quidditch ban?"

Umbridge's smile was now stretched so thin it looked painful.

"I think we should also appreciate" Remus added, stepping up beside Sirius with a calm, measured voice, "that these students have shown remarkable sportsmanship. Slytherin and Gryffindor players celebrating side by side after such a fiercely contested match - well, it's a rare sight indeed. Shouldn't we be encouraging this kind of camaraderie rather than penalizing it?"

"Exactly!" Sirius declared, as he gestured dramatically at the students, "Look at them! Laughing! Smiling! Having fun! Merlin forbid Hogwarts should have too much of that".

The players, who had been watching the exchange in stunned silence, nodded vigorously. George even made a great show of smiling so hard it looked like his face might split in two, while Fred threw an arm around Montague with an exaggerated air of camaraderie.

"It's true" he said, very seriously, "I've never been closer to Montague in my life. He's practically family now!"

"Of course he is!" George chimed in, "I mean, look at him! Graham, my man, you've got that brotherly glow about you, don't you?"

Montague scowled, but there was a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth that suggested he was fighting back a smile.

Umbridge's face was quickly turning a blotchy shade of magenta.

"This is- This is preposterous!" she squeaked. "They- They- They-"

"-were having a bit of fun" Sirius finished, "Isn't that right, boys?"

The Slytherins all knew better than to challenge a Black, former Gryffindor or not, and they all obediently nodded - quickly followed by the Weasley twins and then the rest of their team as well.

In fact, Harry suddenly realised, Sirius was, perhaps, the most perfectly placed politician in wizarding Britain - his dukedom notwithstanding. The Dark families were smart enough to not make an enemy of him - either out of respect for his magical power and the decade he'd spent in Azkaban, or out of fear for those exact same reasons - but the other families, those like Dumbledore and the Weasleys, also respected him for supposedly denouncing the Dark Arts and turning himself into what many would consider the "ideal" Gryffindor.

Sirius was still Sirius, but he was also a Black, raised from day one to be the most powerful man in Wizengamot, and apparently, he knew how to play both roles perfectly.

Harry's esteem for his godfather somehow grew even more.

"T-They were- were- were brawling like common muggles!"

Sirius studied her for a moment, his grey eyes narrowed, before suddenly, just like that, he smiled.

"You are correct, of course, Dolores. Violence should never be tolerated at Hogwarts, even fights that are in good spirit".

Harry only barely refrained from turning to stare at the man in horror because- what the fuck?!

"And you are also right in that they should be punished" he finished, before making a grand sweeping gesture, "So please, continue".

Umbridge's face continued to burn, her confusion reflected in the students around her.

"... C-Continue, Y-Your Grace?"

"Yes" he replied simply, "I so rudely interrupted you before you could ban the other players… It wasn't just the twins and my godson here that you were banning, was it? After all, most of the Slytherin team were involved in this so-called fighting as well. Don't they all deserve equal punishment?"

Umbridge's eyes darted nervously between the students and Sirius, her plump face turning an even deeper shade of crimson as the weight of his words sank in. For a moment, she opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She had walked right into his trap, and now she couldn't back out.

Her gaze flickered toward the Slytherins, all of whom were now watching her with varying expressions of smug amusement and barely contained laughter. They were not just any students, after all - they were the heirs to some of the oldest, most influential families in wizarding Britain: Malfoy, the current Marquess of Winchester and a future duke, Warrington, Viscount Stanhope and a future earl, and Montague and Crabbe, both in line for a barony. If word of their mistreatment were made public… Harry most certainly did not envy the position his godfather had put Umbridge in.

"Well?" Sirius's voice was smooth, almost lazy, but the sharpness in it was unmistakable.

Umbridge's mouth flapped uselessly. She couldn't ban the entire Slytherin team, not with their families holding so much sway at the Ministry, because then she'd be making an enemy of the children of the most powerful politicians in wizarding Britain. She certainly couldn't go up against Sirius Black, either, and, as the man himself had just oh so subtly reminded her, Harry was his godson.

It was a delicate balance between maintaining her supposed authority and keeping her neck intact. Finally, with a false smile that was tight enough to crack, Umbridge cleared her throat, her hand trembling as she raised it to smooth the edges of her cloak.

"It seems I may have been... too hasty" she said, her voice high-pitched and defensive, "In light of the... circumstances, I shall reconsider the ban on Potter and the Weasleys. From a distance, of course, it looked as though their fighting was genuine and I was… concerned, naturally".

"Naturally" Sirius repeated, his voice as dry as the Sahara desert.

"But discipline must still be maintained!" she stammered, trying to salvage what little authority she could, "And now, as a result of my actions, the students know that- that- that-"

"Any future acts of violence will not be tolerated?" Remus suggested mildly.

"Yes! Yes, that! Exactly that!" Umbridge lept on the excuse, before her red face lost all colour entirely as she realised that she'd just accepted help from a werewolf. Harry only barely bit back his grin - he knew that Remus had to be loving this.

Umbridge, her face now a blotchy mix of red and white, muttered something unintelligible under her breath before straightening herself up, clearly attempting to salvage whatever was left of her dignity. With an angry glance at Sirius, she fixed her green tweed cloak before turning sharply and making her way off the pitch, her heels clicking angrily with each step. It was as if she were trying to walk with authority, but her movements were stiff, and there was an obvious waver to her posture, like a balloon slowly deflating.

Harry watched her go, feeling a strange sense of relief, mixed with more than a little awe at how Sirius had so effortlessly turned the tables on her. Perhaps you could teach an old dog new tricks after all…

The tension in the air evaporated the moment she was out of sight, and the students watched her leave in stunned silence. Then, as if on cue, Sirius broke the stillness. His expression shifted from one of cool authority to an ecstatic grin as he practically leaped forward.

"Harry!" he shouted, his voice full of warmth and pride. In a flash, his arms were around Harry, lifting him off the ground in a bear hug so tight that he could hardly breathe.

"Congratulations, you absolute legend!" he cheered, spinning him around in the air, "I knew you had it in you! You're a bloody hero, pup! That was the most brilliant play I've ever seen! The flying! The diving! The catching! Flawless!"

"Careful!" Remus said, a smirk on his face, "If you spin him any faster, Padfoot, he's going to get sick… Or, far more likely, you are".

As if a switch had been flipped, Sirius immediately paled and began to look somewhat ill, placing Harry's feet back down on the ground with a thud.

"Pup" he whispered, his voice suddenly hoarse, "Pup, I am so hungover right now".

From behind him, there was a choked-off wheeze.

"And whose fault is that?" Remus asked wryly, "I told you not to get drunk last night. You knew that we were coming to see the match today!"

"But it was my birthday!" he whined, "A man only turns thirty-six once, Moony!"

"A man turning thirty-six should know better than to get black-out drunk the night before he has to watch twelve teenagers fly a hundred feet in the air and do tricks on brooms!"

"... But it was my birthday! You should've been there, pup, it was epic!"

Based on the look Remus was giving him, Harry thought that he was actually quite lucky not to have been there. He was also aware of the rest of his team staring at Sirius in shock, no doubt trying - and failing - to reconcile this disaster of a party animal with the prim and proper pure-blood they had just seen putting Umbridge in her place. The twins, of course, were simply grinning.

"Why didn't you take a Pepper-Up potion?" Harry asked, unable to hide his own smirk.

"Because we didn't have any and Moony refused to let me stop and buy one on the way!"

"Because we were already running late since you decided to sleep in!"

Warrington looked like he was about to have a stroke. Harry low-key kind of wanted to see it happen.

"And we couldn't have spared five minutes? But no! Instead I am forced to heroically soldier on!" Sirius lamented, "Alone and injured in this cruel, cruel world without a single Pepper-Up potion to soothe my wounds… Hey, you couldn't bribe Snape into giving me one, could you?"

Harry didn't even hesitate. "No".

He let out a heavy sigh before his grey eyes latched onto Draco, and a wide grin spread across his face.

"Cousin! Why, how marvellous it is to see you! I must say, your flying today was simply stupendous! I was in awe-"

"With all due respect, Lord Black" Draco interrupted, "I am far more scared of Professor Snape than I am of you".

Sirius immediately scowled and pointed an accusatory finger at him. "You are just like your mother!"

"... Thank you?"

Rolling his eyes, he finally turned to the twins. "Well? What say you, Weasleys? Care to help an old dog out?"

Fred and George both looked to be on the cusp of agreeing, so Remus quickly stepped forward.

"No, Padfoot! You are not blackmailing two teenagers into breaking into Severus's potions supply room and stealing from him!"

"Oh, he wouldn't have to blackmail us" Fred said, and next to him, George nodded. "Yeah, no, we'd totally do it for free. He's an OG marauder".

"And so am I" Remus replied, giving them his sternest look, "And I was also once your professor, so tell me something, boys, out of me and Sirius, who do you think got away with the cleverest pranks?"

Harry was abruptly reminded that the full moon was in two days' time.

The twins stared at him, mouths open, then glanced over at Sirius, then looked at each other, had a silent ten-second conversation, and then, as one, turned back to face them.

"Sorry Sirius".

"No hard feelings, mate".

"We just, you know-"

"-would rather live".

The man immediately groaned, closing his eyes and burying his face in his hands. "Does no one in this school love me?"

"Well, I certainly don't" drawled a familiar voice as their Head of House reached them, and almost as one, the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team turned on their heels and quickly walked away.

"Was that Madam Umbridge I saw you arguing with, mutt?"

Remus clamped a hand down on Sirius's shoulder tightly as he went to retort and answered far more politely instead.

"Yes, Severus, it was. Apparently, your students were 'brawling like common muggles', I believe was the exact phrase she used, so she tried to ban them from playing".

He raised a solitary eyebrow. "All of them?"

"Of course not!" Sirius snapped, heedless of his partner's warning, "Gryffindors only, plus Harry. Now, I wonder why that was".

"Do you indeed?" Snape's eyes glanced over his own Quidditch team, as if searching for any injuries or discrepancies, and then, when he found none, pointedly said "Don't you boys have somewhere to be?"

Montague immediately straightened up. "Yes, sir. Changing room, guys, let's go".

They turned to follow him back across the pitch, but not before Sirius and Remus both dragged Harry in for one last hug, the latter saying, "I'm so proud of you, pup" while the former whispered, "Don't let Snape boss you around, alright?"

"Oh, and Montague?" Severus called as they were leaving, "Your team flew well today, but if I hear that a single student under the age of seventeen consumes alcohol tonight, I will not hesitate to dismantle it as well as you. Understood?"

Montague gulped. "Yes sir".

They left the three adults behind, with Harry catching the start of yet another bickering match between Sirius and Snape before they were finally out of earshot.

"So" Montague started, "That was the Duke of London".

His voice was level, and he was doing his best to keep his expression blank too, but Harry could tell that he was more than a little shell-shocked, and grinned.

"Not what you'd expect, huh?"

"Merlin no!" he exclaimed, "I mean, I knew he was a Gryffindor, but sweet Salazar is he a Gryffindor!"

"I don't know" Bletchly mused, "The way he handled Umbridge was pure Slytherin".

"I wouldn't let him hear you say that".

"Really? He hates Slytherins that much? What about you, then?"

"Well, to be fair, he did expect me to go into Gryffindor" Harry explained, before sighing and rolling his eyes as they all laughed at him, "I know, I know! But let me tell you, he was the only one who thought so… I don't know. He's not against Slytherins, as such, and he doesn't hate them, he just… he's had a lot of complicated relationships with Slytherins in the past, so growing up, he was more than a little bit biased. He's much better now, though, and doesn't give a damn that I'm wearing green".

"He still seems to give a damn about Snape, though" Warrington pointed out, and Bletchly nodded. "Yeah, and it goes both ways, too. I don't think I've ever heard Snape insult someone so quick. He didn't even say hello first!"

Harry grinned, remembering the numerous arguments the pair had gotten into during the summer, with poor Remus acting as referee. He couldn't tell the others that, however, or else they'd start asking why Sirius and Snape were meeting up if they hated each other so much, and Harry sure as hell wasn't about to out the man as a spy in front of this lot.

"They were rivals back in school" he said instead, "And clearly, they never grew out of it".

"I'll say!" Montague shook his head in disbelief, as if still processing everything that had just happened. As they reached the door to the changing rooms, he caught Harry's arm, holding him back while the others went on ahead.

"Honestly, I'm not sure what I expected from you, Potter" he admitted quietly, "I mean, I knew you were a Slytherin after seeing what you did to Pucey, but I wasn't sure if you were really one of us, you know?"

"And now?" Harry asked, his voice carefully even.

"Now… I know that you really are" Montague replied, flashing him a quick but genuine smile, "That was one hell of a catch. Well done".

Harry felt as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and he readily smiled back at the older boy.

"Now come on" Montague finished, gesturing at the door, "You haven't truly experienced Slytherin until you've been to one of our parties. Sooner we're done here, the sooner we can celebrate".