Johnny sat alone at a table in the Hogwarts library, surrounded by towering shelves filled with books on various subjects. The soft glow of the flickering candlelight provided a calming atmosphere, allowing him to concentrate on his potions homework. It was already seven o'clock in the evening, and he was determined to finish his assignment before the deadline.

Lost in his thoughts and the intricate details of the potion recipe, Johnny was startled when a familiar figure took a seat in front of him. It was Hermione, the same Hermione who had not spoken to him since the incident with the troll on Halloween. He couldn't help but feel a mixture of surprise and curiosity.

For a moment, there was an awkward silence between them. Johnny wondered if Hermione had approached him to discuss the past events or if there was some other reason for her sudden presence. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, unsure of how to break the silence.

Finally, Hermione spoke, her voice filled with a mix of concern and vulnerability. "Johnny, I need to apologise. I've been avoiding you since the incident with the troll, and I owe you an apology. I was scared. Scared of losing you."

Johnny looked at Hermione, his surprise turning into empathy. He hadn't realised the extent of Hermione's fear and the impact it had on their friendship. He had been so focused on his own recovery and his friends that he hadn't considered how his condition had affected Hermione.

Hesitant but sincere, Johnny replied, "I had no idea you were feeling this way. But I'm fine, I'm alive. I had a worse concussion playing Quidditch."

Hermione reached across the table and slapped Johnny's hand, sniffing. Hermione's eyes welled up with tears, and she reached out to hold Johnny's hand. "I'm so relieved to hear that you're okay, Johnny. I was terrified that something terrible would've happened to you, and by pushing you away everything would be okay. But pushing you away was a mistake, and I regret it."

The next weekend was the first Quidditch match after the winter break. Johnny nervously sat with Hermione up in the Gryffindor stands, feeling all the dirty looks sent his way, mainly from Montgomery and Ron who were sat on the other side of Hermione.

"Alright, Johnny?" Neville asked as he come and sat next to him.

"You alright, mate?" Johnny greeted him with a small smile. "Jesus, the whole school's here!" said Johnny, peering around. "Even -- Jesus -- Dumbledore's come to watch!"

Their hearts did a somersault.

"Dumbledore?" Ron said. Johnny was right. There was no mistaking that silver beard.

Harry was safe. There was simply no way that Snape would dare to try to hurt him if Dumbledore was watching.

Perhaps that was why Snape was looking so angry as the teams marched onto the field, something that Ron noticed, too.

"I've never seen Snape look so mean," he told Montgomery, Hermione and Johnny. "Look -- they're off. Ouch!"

Someone had poked Ron in the back of the head. It was Malfoy.

"Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there."

Malfoy grinned broadly at Crabbe and Goyle.

"Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Mudbloods?"

The Hermione and Johnny shared a look off disdain, but didn't answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George Weasley had hit a Bludger at him. Hermione, who had all her fingers crossed in her lap, was squinting fixedly at Harry, who was circling the game like a hawk, looking for the Snitch.

"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" said Malfoy loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money -- you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains."

Neville went bright red but turned in his seat to face Malfoy.

"I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy," he stammered.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle howled with laughter, but Johnny, still not daring to take his eyes from the game, patted Ron on the back thinking it was Neville, and said, "You tell him, Neville."

"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something."

Everyone's nerves were already stretched to the breaking point with anxiety about Harry, but Montgomery said, "I'm warning you, Malfoy -- one more word--"

"Guys!" said Hermione suddenly, "Harry--"

"What? Where?"

Harry had suddenly gone into a spectacular dive, which drew gasps and cheers from the crowd. Hermione stood up, her crossed fingers in her mouth, as Harry streaked toward the ground like a bullet.

"You're in luck, Weasley, Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!" said Malfoy.

Ron snapped. Before Malfoy knew what was happening, Ron was on top of him, wrestling him to the ground. Montgomery then clambered over the back of his seat to help.

"Let's get ready to rumble!" Johnny yelled, diving over the pile and landing a harsh punch to Goyle.

"Come on, Harry!" Hermione screamed, leaping onto her seat to watch as Harry sped straight at Snape -- she didn't even notice Malfoy and Ron rolling around under her seat, or the scuffles and yelps coming from the whirl of fists that was Montgomery, Johnny, Crabbe, and Goyle.

Up in the air, Snape turned on his broomstick just in time to see something scarlet shoot past him, missing him by inches -- the next second, Harry had pulled out of the dive, his arm raised in triumph, the Snitch clasped in his hand.

The stands erupted; it had to be a record, no one could ever remember the Snitch being caught so quickly.

"Ron! Monty! Where are you? The game's over! Harry's won! We've won! Gryffindor is in the lead!" shrieked Hermione, dancing up and down on her seat and hugging Parvati Patil in the row in front.

But Montgomery, Ron and Johnny switched brawling partners. Johnny and Malfoy were trading punches, until Malfoy managed to kick Johnny in the chest, resulting in Johnny falling four rows forward and almost toppling off the edge of the high stands. And he was about to lose his grip to until three pairs of hands lifted him up and then split Malfoy and Johnny apart.