From that moment one, we forgave each other for everything that we had done to each other and became friends.

As we entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy gray and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaverskin boots. The Quidditch season had begun. On Saturday, Harry would be playing in his first match after weeks oftraining: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, we would move up into second place in the housechampionship.

I struck up conversation with Oliver Wood, the Quidditch captin, about the wonderful sport. I told him I was playing on trying out for the team in a couple of years. He looked me over and said I'm be a good chaser, but not much of a keeper. I told him I'd take whatever position he's got, so he appointed me back-up chaser for next year. I told him I also played seeker, but he said he didn't want the game to depend on a little first year girl if Harry couldn't play. I stuck my tongue out at him and called him a non-llama.

The day before Harry's first Quidditch match we were out in the freezing courtyard during break, and she had conjured them up a bright blue fire that could be carried around in a jam jar. We were standing with our backs to it, getting warm, when Snape crossed the yard. I noticed at once that Snape was limping. Harry, Ron, and Hermione moved closer together to block the fire from view; they were sure it wouldn't be allowed. I just stood where I was standing, wondering what kind of shampoo Snape used. Unfortunately, something about their guilty faces (I was still thinking about the shampoo) caught Snape's eye. He limped over. He hadn't seen the fire, but he seemed to be looking for a reason to tell us off anyway.

"What's that you've got there, Potter?" It was Quidditch Through the Ages, a library book Hermione had found. Harry showed him.

"Library books are not to be taken outside the school." said Snape. "Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor."

"He just made that rule up." Harry muttered angrily as Snape limped away. "Wonder what's wrong with his leg?"

"Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him." said Ron bitterly.

"I bet he went after whatever that giant dog's guarding, and it got him." I said evilly.

"What makes you think that? He's a Hogwarts teacher." Hermione said.

"Even the good can go bad." I said darkly.

"You have evil thoughts for someone so small." Ron said. I slapped him on the arm. Everyone called me small. It was true, I was shorter that everyone else (Execpt maybe Neville) but still.

The Gryffindor common room was very noisy that evening. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I sat together next to a window. I had moved my chair over so I could sit in my chair, by a window, and with my fraaaaaaands. Hermione was checking Harry and Ron's Charms homework for them. She would never let them copy ("How will you learn?"), but by asking her to read it through, they got the right answers anyway. While getting up, Harry told Ron and Hermione he was going to ask Snape if he could have Quidditch Through the Ages back.

"Better you than me." Hermione and Ron said together.

"I'll go with you." I said. My homework was done, and I was bored.

We made our way down to the staffroom and knocked. There was no answer. Harry knocked again. Nothing. He pushed the door ajar and peered inside-- and a horrible scene met our eyes. Snape and Filch were inside, alone. Snape was holding his robes above his knees. One of his legs was bloody and mangled. Filch was handing Snape bandages.

"Blasted thing." Snape was saying. "How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?"

Harry tried to shut the door quietly, but --"POTTER!"Snape's face was twisted with fury as he dropped his robes quickly to hide his leg.

"Hey, I'm here too!" I said. "I shouldn't've said that."

"I just wondered if I could have my book back." Harry gulped.

"GET OUT! OUT!" Harry left, with me tailing behind, before Snape could take any more points from Gryffindor. We sprinted back upstairs.

"Did you get it?" Ron asked as we joined them. "What's the matter?"

In a low whisper, Harry told them what we'd seen.

"You know what this means?" he finished breathlessly. "Jinx was right. He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Halloween! That's where he was going when we saw him -- he's after whatever it's guarding! And I'd bet my broomstick he let that troll in, to make a diversion!"

Hermione's eyes were wide.

"No -- he wouldn't." she said. "I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe."

"Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something." snapped Ron. "I'm with Harry and Jinx. I wouldn't put anything past Snape. But what's he after? What's that dog guarding?"

"Three against one, Mione. You're outnumbered. Though you could probably curse better than the three of us combined...." I muttered.

The next morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match.

I had gone a little overboard with Gryffindor pride. I painted my entire body gold and wore only red and gold. My pants were striped leggings. My shirt was red and I wore gold boots and a lion hat. Most took a double-take when they saw me, but I didn't care. Draco shot me a dirty look when he saw me, but then smiled slyly.

He had told them.

I totally forgot about what my parents would think.

But he already told them

Oh well. They were bound to find out sometime.

"La la la, whatever. La la la, doesn't matter." I sang as I skipped over to the Gryffindor table and sat down across from Harry. He wasn't eating.

"You've got to eat some breakfast." I told him piling food onto my plate.

"I don't want anything."

"Just a bit of toast." Wheedled Hermione.

"I'm not hungry."

"Harry, you need your strength." said Seamus Finnigan. "Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team."

"Thanks, Seamus" said Harry, watching Seamus pile ketchup on his sausages.

"He's right, Harry." I said. I waving a sausage in front of his nose. "One sausage."

"If I eat it, will you go away?"

"Yes."

"Fine." And he pulled the sausage off my fork and threw it in his mouth.

"Good boy!" I said brightly.

By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. The seats might be raised high in the air, but it was still difficult to see what wasgoing on sometimes. Ron, Hermione and I joined Neville, Seamus, and Dean the West Ham fan up in the top row. As a surprise for Harry, they had painted a large banner on one of the sheets Scabbers had ruined. It said Potter for President, and Dean, who was good at drawing, had done a large Gryffindor lion underneath. Then Hermione had performed a tricky little charm so that the paint flashed different colors. I had painted a smiey face and wrote "Jinx was not here" in one corner.

Harry followed Fred and George out of the locker room and walked onto the field to loud cheers. Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand.

"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you." she said, once they were all gathered around her. "Mount your brooms, please."

Harry clambered onto his Nimbus Two Thousand. Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle. Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately byAngelina Johnson of Gryffindor -- what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too --- "

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor." The Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve -- back to Johnson and -- no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle. Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes -- Flint flying like an eagle up there -- he's going to sc-no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle -- that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and -- OUCH -- that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger -- Quaffle taken by the Slytherins -- that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger -- sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which -- nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes -- she's really flying -- dodges a speeding Bludger -- the goal posts are ahead -- come on, now, Angelina -- Keeper Bletchley dives -- misses -- GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"

Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins. I rang the muggle cowbell I had stored away from when we visited a muggle farm one summer. Father and Draco had fun terrorizing muggles. Of course, we erased their memories after.

"Budge up there, move along."

"Hagrid!" Ron and Hermione squeezed together to give Hagrid enough space to join them.

"Bin watchin' from me hut." said Hagrid, patting a large pair of binoculars around his neck. "But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?"

"Nope." said Ron. "Harry hasn't had much to do yet."

"Kept outta trouble, though, that's somethin'." said Hagrid, raising his binoculars and peering skyward at the speck that was Harry.

"Slytherin in possession." Lee Jordan was saying. "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the -- wait a moment -- was that the Snitch?" A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.

Harry saw it. In a great rush of excitement he dived downward after the streak of gold. Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs had seen it, too. Neck and neck they hurtled toward the Snitch -all the Chasers seemed tohave forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in midair to watch. Harry was faster than Higgs -- he could see the little round ball, wings fluttering, darting up ahead -- he put on an extra spurt of speed --WHAM! A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindors below -- Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose, and Harry's broom spun off course, Harry holding on for dear life.

"Foul!" screamed the Gryffindors. Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared from sight again.

Dean Thomas was yelling, "Send him off, ref! Red card!"

"What are you talking about, Dean?" said Ron.

"Red card!" said Dean furiously. "In soccer you get shown the red card and you're out of the game!"

"But this isn't soccer, Dean." Ron reminded him. Hagrid, however, was on Dean's side.

"They oughta change the rules. Flint coulda knocked Harry outta the air."

Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides. "So -- after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating---"

"Jordan!" growled Professor McGonagall.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul---"

"Jordan, I'm warning you---"

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession."

It was as Harry dodged another Bludger, which went spinning dangerously past his head, that it happened. His broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch. For a split second, he thought he was going to fall. He gripped the broom tightly with both his hands and knees. It happened again. It was as though the broom was trying to buck him off. But Nimbus Two Thousands did not suddenly decide to buck their riders off.

"Slytherin in possession -- Flint with the Quaffle -- passes Spinnet -- passes Bell -- hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose -- only joking, Professor -- Slytherins score." Lee was saying.

"Dunno what Harry thinks he's doing, " Hagrid mumbled. He stared through his binoculars. "If I didn' know better, I'd say he'd lost control of his broom... But he can't have...."

Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands. His broom had started to roll over andover, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. Harry's broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.

"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" Seamus whispered.

"Can't have." Hagrid said, his voice shaking. "Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark magic -- no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand."

At these words, Hermione seized Hagrid's binoculars, but instead of looking up at Harry, she started looking frantically at the crowd.

"What are you doing?" moaned Ron, gray-faced.

"I knew it, " Hermione gasped, "Snape -- look."

Ron grabbed the binoculars. Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering nonstop under his breath.

"He's doing something -- jinxing the broom." said Hermione.

"What should we do?" I asked, speaking for the first time since the game started.

"Leave it to me." Hermione said, disappearing.

Ron turned the binoculars back on Harry. His broom was vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for him to hang on much longer. The whole crowd was on its feet, watching, terrified, as the Weasleys flew up to try and pull Harry safely on to one of their brooms, but it was no good -- every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell. Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing, you know, except for me.

"Come on, Hermione, " Ron muttered desperately. I was watching Harry, praying that he wouldn't fall.

Harry was suddenly able to clamber back on to his broom.

"Neville, you can look!" Ron said. Neville had been sobbing into Hagrid's jacket for the last five minutes. Harry was speeding toward the ground when the crowd saw him clap his hand to his mouth as though he was about to be sick -- he hit the field on all fours -- coughed -- and something gold fell into his hand.

"I've got the Snitch!" he shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion.