Harry made me fucking tryout for the team again. I was incensed - did the fucktard forget who actually won them the Quidditch cup last year?!

I swear the power is getting to his head these days, all this Chosen One shit making him think he is so much fucking better than the rest of us.

I felt like not bothering to show up at tryouts just to spite him, but then I heard that Cormac McLaggen was trying out for Keeper, and so pride made me go in there and protect my position.

Besides, if Harry doesn't get me in, I'll just use the sexism card and threaten to report him.

Now, despite Cormac being a horrifically arrogant, pompous, idiotic, rude twat; I actually thought he was pretty fit.

"I wouldn't get your hopes up, Weasley," he said, an annoying swagger to his voice, "Potter and I are both in old Sluggy's club."

"So fucking what?" I scoffed incredulously. "He's been sleeping in my bed since we were twelve years old!"

I didn't add it was because Mum made me share with Ginny when he stayed over for the holidays.

"If you're that close, then why is he making you tryout again?" Cormac asked, frowning.

"Because he's a fucking power hungry, big headed fucktard, that's why."

"Oh. Well, good luck. By the way, that Hermione chick you hang around with is well fit. So's your sister."

"GO FUCK YOURSELF!"

Luckily, Hermione was in a gracious mood and Confunded Cormac's arse so that it wouldn't look like Harry was being nepotistic when he picked me.

Somehow though, that only served to make me feel worse about myself.

*****

Some weird shit happened to Katie Bell.

Harry was convinced Draco was behind it.

Dumb twat.

*****

My first Quidditch game of the season was against Slytherin. I woke up that morning feeling highly apprehensive about it.

And it had nothing to do with playing in front of the school, and everything to do with a certain Slytherin Seeker.

However, I found to my unexpected crushing disappointment, Draco had called off sick.

"Sick?! Why? What's wrong with him?" I spluttered, looking up from the Gryffindor table towards the Slytherins.

"Who cares?" Ginny cried, "this is great news!"

Why - I wasn't sure. I could only assume that she found him a threat, despite the fact that we've thrashed Draco at every game we've played against him.

The only other person who seemed as concerned as me was Harry; who was stroking his chin in that annoying way he did every time he came up with his 'Draco is a Death Eater' theory.

"For fuck's sake Harry!" I bellowed, "Draco missing a Quidditch game doesn't make him a Death Eater!"

"I didn't say anything!" He cried. But I could tell he was shook by awesome mind reading skills.

"Why didn't you tell me I'd forgotten my fucking broomstick?!" I roared at Harry later as we arrived at the Quidditch pitch alongside the rest of the team; with me being the only one not holding a great big fucking broom in my hand.

"I thought you knew!" He spluttered stupidly. "I assumed you had something up your sleeve!"

"What like a fucking fold-up broom?! Use your eyes, Harry! And you call yourself a Seeker?" I tutted disappointedly as I turned around and started running back the way I'd just come.

I pelted angrily up through the castle, sprinting up staircases and hurtling down hallways, finally reaching the Gryffindor tower and grabbing my broom from my dorm.

So, by the time I bumped into Draco and two giggly blonde tarts; I was a rather puffed out, red faced, sweaty mess.

"I thought you were ill?" I asked, not being able to disguise the pout in my voice.

"Does it look like I'm ill?" Draco snapped, as he eyed me with a look of complete disdain.

Actually, yes. Now he came to mention it, Draco did look ill; a greyness tinged his pale cheeks, and dark grey bags sat under his sunken eyes.

But I didn't say so. Instead, I couldn't help but glare at the two girls who were stood either side of him, constantly giggling and flicking their hair.

Who the fuck were they and what was Draco doing with them?!

"Haven't you got a game to be at?" Draco snarled, as I just stood there saying nothing.

"Right, whatever," I muttered bitterly, feeling that horrific twist of my stomach again.

Holding my head held high, refusing to let him see the hurt in my eyes, I marched on past, being careful to accidentally smack my broom into the shin of the girl on his right.

Despite that unpleasant meeting, I played fucking brilliantly and we thrashed the Slytherins' arses.

We had a massive party to celebrate in the common room and I over compensated for the aching in my heart by knocking back firewhisky and dancing wildly on tables.

"Ronnie, I think you've had enough excitement for one night!" Hermione scolded, sounding just like my fucking mother.

"Screw you!" I spat, not feeling like I'd managed to dull the pain with quite enough fun yet.

So then I grabbed Cormac McLaggen and shoved my tongue down his throat.

*****