For the next few days, I've been really trying, and I mean really trying, to avoid Lockhart. Every time I see him coming down a corridor, I go down another passage. I nearly know all the passages in the school. It's also hard to avoid Colin Creevey. He seems to have memorised my timetable because each time I reach the classroom for my next class, he's there. Or during lunch or break or after classes, he's there with his camera, clicking away.

As for my metamorphmagus skill, I've managed to master changing my hair colour. I am now working on changing my facial features, not that I really want to, but, it could come in handy one day.

Ron's wand is still malfunctioning due to the crash to the Whomping Willow. During Charms class the other day, it shot itself out of Ron's hand and hit Professor Flitwick right between his eyes resulting in a large, green boil coming up. That would've hurt.

Also, Olivia Fields is supposed to come on Monday, according to Pavarti. I really need to find out if she's related to Amy.

On top of all that, the Quidditch season has begun. I wake up on Saturday morning to Angelina Johnson shaking me awake.

"Come on Sarah," she says. "Wake up!"

I rub my eyes.

"Angelina? What are you doing?" I ask groggily.

"Quidditch practice. Oliver's just told me to wake you up. Now come on, we've gotta go down to the pitch!"

I sit up and look out the window. It's still half-dark!

"Angelina," I whine. "It's the crack if dawn!"

"Exactly." She replies. "It's our new training programme, according to Oliver. We're supposed to get up at dawn and practice harder than ever, he really wants to win the cup this year. Now, come on, grab your broom and lets go!"

I finally get up. I quickly get dressed into my Quidditch robes, grab my Nimbus 2000 and head down to the pitch with Angelina and Katie Bell.

When we reach the changing rooms, everyone else except for Wood and Angelina are almost asleep.

Fred and George are sitting, puffy-eyes and tousled haired and now Katie is standing is a corner yawning.

The only person missing is Harry. Where is he now?

"Sarah," Wood says. "This is going to be part of our new training programme. We will be getting up at dawn and-"

"Training harder. Angelina told me." I say

"Yes, and none of the other teams have started training yet. We're first in, if we start training earlier and harder, we are sure to win the cup."

I nod.

We all just sit around quietly while we wait for Harry. What's taking him so long?

Finally he turns up about ten minutes later.

"Finally Harry." Wood says enthusiastically. "What kept you? Now, I wanted a quick talk with you all before we get into the pitch, because I spent the whole summer devising a whole new training programme which will hopefully make a difference..."

He holds up a large diagram of the Quidditch pitch, drawn on it are many lines, arrows and crosses in all different coloured markers; it's so confusing.

We of then launches into a full speech on new tactics on our training. As he speaks, Fred, who is now next to Katie, leans on her shoulder and starts to snore.

When I though the first board was long, there were another two boards under that. I fall down in my seat and close my eyes as Wood drones on and on.

"So," Wood says at long last, waking me up. "Is that clear? Any questions?"

"I've got a question Oliver, why couldn't you have told us this yesterday when we were awake?" George asks, yawning.

Wood isn't pleased. "Now listen up you lot, we should've won the cup last year. We're easily the best team. But unfortunately, due to un-avoidable circumstances, we didn't."

I feel guilty. If I was there, instead of in the hospital wing due to last years events, we would've won the cup. I would've caught the snitch and we would've won. We suffered our worst defeat in 300 years.

I can tell from the look on Wood's face, the defeat is still torturing him.

"So, this year we train harder than ever before...now, lets get onto the pitch and put our new theories into practice!"

We all grab our brooms and head onto the pitch. The sun is fully up now, but the air is misty.

As I walk on, I see Hermione, Amy, Bonnie and Ron sitting in the stands.

"Haven't you finished yet?" Bonnie calls out to Harry and I.

"We haven't even started." Harry and I say in sync.

"Wood's teaching us new moves." I tell then.

I mount my broomstick and kick off, soaring into the air. Wood makes us do a few laps around the pitch to warm up. As I do, I start racing Fred, George and Harry.

"What's that funny clicking noise?" Fred calls, as we hurtle around the corner.

I looks around. I soon hear it. I look into the stands to see Colin Creevey clicking away with his camera. How did he know we have Quidditch practice?

"Harry, Sarah! Look here!" He calls out to us.

"Who's that?" George asks.

"No idea." I lie.

We continue with another few laps until Wood calls us over to him-he's on the other side if the pitch.

"What's going on?" He asks, frowning. "Why is that first year taking pictures? I don't like it. He could be a Slytherin spy, trying to find out about our new training programme-"

"He's in Gryffindor-" I say.

"Oliver," Fred interrupts. "The Slytherins don't need a spy, they're here in person."

Fred points to the other side of the pitch, where the Slytherins are filing onto the pitch, broomsticks in hand.

"I don't believe it." Wood hisses in outrage. "I booked the pitch for today! We'll see about this."

Wood shoots toward the ground and lands harder than he was supposed to, staggers in anger as he dismounts his broomstick. Harry, Fred, George and I follow Wood over to the Slytherin's

"Flint!" Wood bellows at the Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint, who, I might add, still looks part troll. "This is our practice time! We got up especially! I booked the pitch so you can clear off now!"

A smile flashes across Flint's face. "Plenty of room for all of us Wood." He says.

Angelina and Katie only now dismount their brooms to join us. There are no girls on the Slytherin team.

"But I booked the pitch!" Wood says, spitting with rage. "I booked it!"

"Ah, but I've got a specially signed not from Professor Snape," Flint says, as he gets out a piece of parchment. "'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch pitch, due to their need to train their new Seeker'."

"You've got a new Seeker?" Wood says, looking at the team. "Who?"

The six, large figures, part to reveal a much smaller boy with white-blonde hair and a pointed face. Draco Malfoy.

"Draco Malfoy," I say. "What did you have to do to get yourself on the team? I bet you had to get help from your daddy."

"Funny you should mention Draco's father." Flint says and the whole Slytheirn team's smiles widen. "Let me show you the, generous, gift he's given to the Slytherin team."

All seven of the Slytherin team members hold out their broomsticks. They're all neat and polished, with the words 'Nimbus Two Thousand and One' printed on it in good writing. Nimbus Two Thousand and One?! That's the latest model? It came out just last month. Malfoy's father obviously bought Draco his place on the team.

"Very latest model." Flint goes on, carelessly brushing some dust off his broom. "Came out just last month. I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old cleansweeps..." He trails off, flickering his eyes over at Fred and George's Cleansweep Five's.

I'm bewildered. Did Malfoy's father seriously buy Draco's way on the team? Well, at least us Gryffindor's got in on talent, not money.

"Oh look," Flint says. "A pitch invasion."

Hermione, Amy, Bonnie and Ron are crossing over the pitch to see what the commotion is.

"What's going on?" Ron asks Harry and I. "Why aren't you guys playing? And what's he doing here?"

He points at Malfoy, who is fixing up his Slytherin Quidditch robes.

"I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley." Malfoy says, smugly. "Everyone's just been admiring our new brooms my father bought for the team."

Amy, Bonnie and Ron gape, open mouthed.

"Good aren't they?" Malfoy says, watching them gape at the broomsticks. "But perhaps the Gryffindor will be able to raise enough gold and get new brooms too. You could raffle those Cleansweep Fives, I bet a museum would bid for them."

The Slytherin's burst out in laughter at Malfoy's remark-come on, even if I was in Slytherin, it wouldn't be funny.

Hermione steps foreword. "At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in, they got in on pure talent."

"No one asked for you opinion," Malfoy spits. "You filthy little Mudblood!"

I gasp. That's really offensive. 'Mudblood' is a horrible thing to call a magical person if they're muggle-born. I'll get Malfoy back for that.

"How dare you!" I yell and I kick him where the sun doesn't shine.

That's when the uproar starts. Fred and George dive foreword to try to tackle Malfoy, but Flint blocks him; Angelina, Katie and I move out of the way; Harry and Wood just watch as the other try to fight; and Hermione, Amy and Bonnie stand out of the way while Ron gets out his wand.

"You'll pay for that one Malfoy!" He yells and points his wand at Malfoy.

There is a loud bang and green sparks from the wrong end from Ron's wand and it hits him squarely in the stomach, sending him reeling backwards onto the grass.

"Are you okay Ron?" Bonnie squeals.

"Ron!" Hermione yells.

Bonnie and Hermione kneel down beside Ron and the rest of us gather around. They Slytherins are all double over in laughter.

Ron tries to speak, he opens his mouth, but instead of words coming out, he spews out several slugs.

"Ew," I scream. "I can't look."

I have a phobia for slugs, toads/frogs, rats/mice and snakes. They creep the hell out of me.

Ron spews out more slugs and I turn around, not wanting to look.

"We'd better get him to Hagrid's, it's nearest." Harry says.

Harry and Bonnie pull Ron up by his arms. Amy tries to help.

"What happened Sarah?" Colin Creevey asks from behind me. "What happened? Is he ill? It you can cure him can't you?"

"Get out of the way Colin." I say, pushing him away, but not too hard. Ron spews out even more slugs.

I go and help Harry, Bonnie and Amy. No matter about my phobia of slugs, Ron is my friend, and I will help him.

Together, Harry, Hermione, Bonnie, Amy and I support Ron all the way to Hagrid's cabin.

"Nearly there." I say, trying to calm him. "We'll be there in a minute, almost there."

We are within twenty feet from Hagrid's cabin when the front door opens. It's not Hagrid, it's Lockhart. Fate is not on my side right now.

"Quick, behind here." Amy says, steering us and Ron behind a nearby bush. Bonnie and Hermione reluctantly follow.

"It's a simple matter if you know what you're doing!" Lockhart says loudly to Hagrid. "If you need help, you know where I am! I'll let you have a copy of my book-I'm surprised you haven't already got one! I'll sign one tonight and send it over. Well, goodbye!"

We wait until Lockhart is out of sight before we emerge from behind the bush, pulling Ron up the steps to Hagrid's front door. I knock three times.

Hagrid appears at once, looking very grumpy, but his expression brightens when he sees that it's us.

"Bin wonderin' when yen'd be comin' tee see me-come in, come in-thought yeh mighta bin Professor Lockhart back again."

Hermione, Amy and I follow Harry and Bonnie who are supporting Ron, through the door and we sit down.

Harry hastily explains Ron's 'slug problem'. Hagrid doesn't seem perturbed by it though, unlike me. He just hands Ron a large bucket and says, "better out than in!"

Hagrid starts bustling around to make tea, and his boarhound, Fang, is slobbering all over my robes. Yuck!

"What did Professor Lockhart want with you, Hagrid?" Bonnie asks.

"Givin' me advice on gettin' Kelpies out of a well." Hagrid growls, setting the teapot on the table with a plate of treacle. "Like I don' know. An' bangin' on about some Banshee he banished. If one word of its true, I'll eat my kettle."

I laugh, but cover it up as a cough. At least Hagrid thinks he's a fake too. But I've never heard Hagrid talk about a teacher like that, even if it is Lockhart.

"I think you're being a bit unfair." Hermione says in a voice higher than usual. "Professor Dumbledore obviously thought he was the one for the job-"

"He was the only man fer the job." Hagrid says.

"But," I say. "Our Dad applied."

The others look at Bonnie and I.

"Yeah, he, um, yeah he did." Bonnie says.

"Well, he musta applied after Professor Dumbledore hired Lockhart." Hagrid says.

"I didn't know your Dad applied for the job." Harry says.

"Me either." Hermione and Amy say in sync. Ron just spews a few more slugs.

"Anyway, so tell me," Hagrid says to Ron. "Who was he tryin' ter curse?"

"Malfoy." Bonnie says.

"Malfoy called Hermione something. It must've been bad because everyone went mad." Harry says.

"It was bad." Amy, Bonnie, Ron and I say.

"Malfoy called her a M-Mudblood, Hagrid." I say.

Hagrid gasps. "He did not!"

"He did." Hermione says. "But I don't know what it means. I could tell it was really rude, of course..."

"It's about the most insulting thing he could think of." Ron gasps, popping up from under the table as he spewed out some more slugs.

"Yeah. Mudblood's a really foul name for someone who is muggle born-you know, with non-magical parents. There are some wizards-like Malfoys family for instance-who think they are better than everyone else because they're what people call 'Pureblood'."

Ron burps and spits another slug into his hand. "And the rest of us know it doesn't make any difference at all. Look at Neville Longbottom-he's Pureblood and he can hardly stand a cauldron the right way up."

"An' they haven' invented a spell our Hermione can' do." Hagrid says proudly, causing Hermione to blush a brilliant shade of magenta.

"It's disgusting" Ron says.

"Codswallop in my opinion." Hagrid says. "Dirty blood. Most wizards these days are either half-blood or less. If we hadn' married muggles, we'd've died out."

Ron ducks down again to spew out more slugs.

"I don' blame yeh fer try in' ter curse him, Ron." Hagrid says. "Bu' maybe it was a good thing yeh wand backfired. 'Spect Lucius Malfoy would've come march in' up ter the school if yeh'd cursed his son. Least yer not in trouble."

I take a piece of treacle that is on the plate. Bad idea, the treacle sticks my teeth together.

"Sarah, Harry," Hagrid says, as if a sudden though has just hit him. "Gotta bone ter pick with yeh's. I heard yeh have bin givin' out signed photos. How come I haven' got one?"

I wrench my teeth apart in anger.

"We have not been giving out signed photos." I say hotly.

"If Lockhart's been-" Harry says, but we then see Hagrid laughing.

"I'm on'y jokin'." He says, patting us both gently on the back. "I knew yeh hadn' really. I told Lockhart that yeh didn't need teh. Yer both more famous that him without tryin'."

"Bet he didn't like that." Harry says.

"Good on you Hagrid!" I say happily.

"Don' think he did like it." Hagrid says. "An' then I told him I'd never read one o' his books an' he decided ter go."

We all go silent.

"Well Hagrid," I say. "It's been nice talking with you, but we'd better get back up to the castle before it gets too late."

"Okay, bye!" Hagrid says and we leave.

We quietly traipse back up to the castle. Once inside, we hear a voice say "there you are, Potter, Weasley."

Professor McGonagall comes striding towards us, looking ver stern.

"Which Potter, Professor?" I ask.

"Mr Potter." She replies. She turns to Harry and Ron. "Now, you will both be serving your detentions this evening."

"What are we doing, Professor?" Ron asks, trying not to burp out slugs.

"You, Mr Weasley, will be polishing the silver in the trophy room with Mr Filch." Professor McGonagall says. "And no magic, Mr Weasley-elbow grease."

Ron gulps. He probably won't have any luck with that unless his 'slug' problem goes away-or Filch'll keep him there all night.

"And you, Potter, will be helping Professor Lockhart answer his fan mail." Professor McGonagall says to Harry.

I mentally burst out laughing. Harry has to help Lockhart answer fan mail! Ha.

"Oh no-can't I go and do the trophy room too?" Harry asks desperately, hoping to not help Lockhart.

"Certainly not." Professor McGonagall says. "Professor Lockhart requested you particularly. Eight o'clock sharp, both of you."

The six of us make our way to the common room for the rest of the afternoon.

"Filch'll have me there all night." Ron complains. "No magic! There must be about a hundred cups in there. I'm no good at muggle cleaning."

"I'd swap anytime." Harry says. "I've had lots of practice with the Dursley's. Answering fan mail with Lockhart-that'll be a nightmare!"

For the rest of the afternoon, Bonnie, Harry and Ron play wizard chess, while Amy and I play Exploding Snap and Hermione starts reading 'Wanderings with Werewolves'.

At five to eight that evening, Harry and Ron say goodbye and they go to do their detention.

Amy, Bonnie, Hermione and I go up to our dormitory, grab Pavarti and Lavender, and have a girls night, with movies, popcorn, drinks and lollies. We get out sleeping bags and camp on the floor in a circle, sharing stories and secrets. I don't tell many secrets. Only that I have a crush on Seamus.

We don't get to sleep until around one in the morning, and I realise that Harry and Ron must be back from their detentions. I'll have to ask them about it in the morning, and I fall into a dreamless sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, how was detention?" I ask Harry and Ron the next morning at breakfast.

"Horrible." Ron says. "I kept throwing up slugs the whole time. He made me buff up one of the Quidditch Cup's fourteen times before he was satisfied. And then I had a another slug attack all over a Special Award for Services to the School. Took ages to remove the slime."

"That does sound horrible. What about you Harry?"

"It wasn't bad, but not good either. More on the bad side though. Listen to this," Harry says, lowering his voice. He tells us about some voice he heard, that sounded creepy.

"And Lockhart said he couldn't hear it?" Amy asks.

"Do you think he was lying?" Bonnie asks, accusingly.

"I don't know." Harry says.

"I don't get it." I say. "I mean, even if someone was invisible, they would of had to of opened the door."

"I don't get it either. I'm going for a walk." Harry says and he leaves.

I wonder who that voice belonged to...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N

Okay guys, hurt me. Throw whatever you want at me. I haven't updated in a week. Even though last week I said I'd update the next day.

I've just had a lot of problems with school and homework and other stuff.

I promise I will update soon. I will write as much as I can :)

Pretty much I've been trying to write three chapters (this one, Forbidden and Loving the Enemy), reading my own book, reading a book for school, piling that onto homework and assignments and I've had a few friendship problems. I will be updating as much as I can when I can.

Hugs and butterfly kisses,

~Elise