Since the first DA meeting, Hermione had come up with a very clever way to let members know the date and time of meetings. She distributed fake Galleons to every member of the DA, and whenever Harry set the date on his fake Galleon, the numbers on all of the Galleons would change, thanks to Hermione's use of a Protean Charm.

"You can do a Protean Charm?" Terry Boot had asked when Hermione proposed her idea about the fake Galleons.

"Yes."

"But that's... that's N.E.W.T standard, that is."

"Oh. Oh... well... yes, I suppose it is."

"How come you're not in Ravenclaw? With brains like yours?"

All of the Quidditch teams had been granted permission by Professor Umbridge to reform. As the first Quidditch match of the season, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, drew nearer, DA meetings were put on hold, because both Katie and Angelina (the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain) insisted on having daily practices.

Katie was very on edge about this game. After all, the line-up of her team was still very new. Katie and Graham were really the only two who worked smoothly together, but the team were definitely improving. However, Harry's constant taunts were stressing Katie out a great deal, but she refused to let that show, and would always fire back a quip of her own. 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 Head of House of the competing teams, though they attempted to disguise it under decent pretence and sportsmanship, were determined to see their own side victorious.

October extinguished itself in a rush of howling winds and drowning rain and November, cold as frozen iron, with hard frosts every morning and icy draughts that bit at exposed hands and faces. The skies and ceiling of the Great Hall turned a pale, pearly grey, the mountains around Hogwarts were snowcapped, and the temperature in the castle dropped so low that many students wore thick protective dragonskin gloves in the corridors between lessons.

The morning of the match dawned bright and cold. At breakfast, Katie was so stricken by her nerves that she hadn't noticed that Pansy had been speaking to her for over five minutes.

"Katie, you're denting your goblet — Katie..."

Draco pulled the golden goblet from Katie's hand, awakening her from her panicked trance. She had not noticed just how hard she was gripping her goblet until that moment when she looked at it and saw that she had created a great dimple in the side of it.

"How do you even manage to—?" Blaise said, goggling at the ruined cup.

"You really need to relax—" Draco began, but was promptly cut off by Pansy.

"Don't tell a girl to relax, Draco, you brainless git," Pansy said and pushed a plate of croissants towards Katie, who was looking very pale. "Here, eat these."

"I appreciate it, Pans, but I think I'll be sick if I eat." Katie grumbled, staring at the plate of croissants with great distaste. She could feel an uncomfortable rumbling building in her stomach at the sight of the pastries and tore her eyes away from them.

"You're just nervous." Draco told her softly.

She glared at him. "You don't say."

At that moment, the seats all around Katie filled up — Montague, Warrington, Bletchley, Crabbe and Goyle had all arrived, each of them looking very excited.

"All right, Katie?" Graham beamed, buttering himself some toast. "Looking forward to the game?"

Draco shook his head rather aggressively at Graham, who responded only by furrowing his eyebrows in bewilderment. A sudden fatigued sensation washed over Katie. Black blotches were disrupting her vision.

"Woah, woah, are you OK?" Warrington asked anxiously.

"M'good." was all that Katie could force out. The Gryffindor Quidditch Team had just entered the Hall to a rousing applause from their house and her mouth had gone very dry.

"Merlin's Beard, Katerina, no you're not," Draco gasped, dropping his fork. "You're after going snow white — have some water, you need to lie down."

"Are you sure you're OK to play?" Graham questioned.

"I'm fine," Katie said much more firmly than before. "I'm just nervous. Thanks." she added, taking an un-dented goblet of water from Draco. She drank the whole thing in one, swift gulp and, miraculously, it actually made her feel much better. Her vision was no longer blotchy.

"I never should've accepted the Captain's position. What was I thinking?" Katie uttered miserably, jumping in fright when her entire team let out a collective angry roar of disagreement.

"I could barely handle a Quaffle before you became captain." Warrington stated, a hint of pride in his voice.

"And you taught us loads of new skills and formations we can use on the pitch." Graham said. There was a murmur of agreement amidst the team.

"And," Pansy chimed in, "you look damn good flying that broom."

Katie giggled modestly while the rest of the team guffawed loudly. Her spirits exceptionally higher after that cheery interaction, Katie led her team down to the pitch half an hour later feeling very confident, but that assertiveness was speedily dismantled as soon as they arrived at the changing rooms. Katie slipped inside the Captain's office, locked the door, and collapsed into her chair as the reality of the situation set in.

She had to coach her team through this game. They were relying on her as much as she was relying on them.

Katie wasn't sure just how much time had passed when there was a loud knock on the door to her office. Startled by the sudden noise in the otherwise silent room, she sprung to her feet.

"The game starts in five minutes." Draco's voice called through the door.

Katie straightened out her robes and, taking one final deep breath, she turned the key in the door and stepped into the changing room. The sight of six other pairs of eyes staring fixedly at her did not calm her nerves whatsoever, but she forced herself to retain her composure, because if she panicked, the rest of the team would panic too, and that wouldn't do anyone any good.

"Right," Katie began, her voice trembling with nerves. "I'm going to be straight up here, guys, I didn't prepare a speech, and I'm absolutely shitting myself right now so I am in no fit state to give a proper pep talk," The team laughed at this. "Just remember everything we've been going over in training — Bletchley, make sure you guard the middle hoop, Montague, try not to smash anyone in the face with the Quaffle.... unless they're a Gryffindor, Crabbe... just... don't hit yourself in the face with your bat again, OK? And Draco... catch that damn Snitch."

Draco saluted but Katie was too tense to laugh.

"And one more thing," Katie added, glancing momentarily at each member of her team. "Let's win this thing, because if we don't I'll never hear the end of it from Harry, and honestly, that might just be the end of our relationship."

The entire team chortled loudly — all except Draco, whose expression remained fathomless. Katie pretended not to notice this, despite the fact that it confused her, and slung her Nimbus 2001 over her shoulder. Her team followed suit, getting to their feet and picking up their brooms.

Trembling from head to toe, Katie led her team into the tunnel where she paused, waiting for Lee Jordan too announce their line-up.

"First is the Gryffindor team! We have Angelina Johnson, Christian Blair, Niall Murray, Ron Weasley, Fred and George Weasley and Harry Potter!"

A roar of cheers for the Gryffindor team made Katie's stomach lurch. She knew all too well that the Slytherin team would not receive such a warm welcome onto the pitch as the Gryffindors did, but she had to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach and stride forwards.

"All right, everyone... good luck."

The team marched in single file, their brooms shouldered, out from the tunnel and into the dazzling sky. The usual cheers and claps erupted from the Slytherin end of the stands, while the Gryffindors booed loudly (the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs had very mixed loyalties — some were supporting Slytherin and others Gryffindor).

"And the Slytherin team! There's Katerina Blair, Graham Montague, Cassius Warrington, Miles Bletchley, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle and Draco Malfoy!"

The Gryffindor team was standing waiting for them, looking extremely intimidating. Katie had never before realised just how short she was until her eyes scanned over the five very tall seventh years on the Gryffindor team.

"Captains, shake hands," Madam Hooch ordered. Legs shaking like jelly, Katie approached Angelina Johnson, who was much taller and much more athletic than she was. They shook hands stiffly and Katie was vaguely humiliated by how much her hand was trembling, which she was sure Angelina noticed. "Mount your brooms..."

Madam Hooch placed her whistle in her mouth and blew. The balls were released and fourteen players shot upwards. Katie felt the usual rush of euphoria as the first gust of fresh wind rushed around her. Her nerves were instantly replaced by the incomparable feeling of exhilaration that she got every time she played Quidditch.

"And it's Johnson — Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I've been saying it for years and she still won't go out with me—"

"JORDAN!" Professor McGonagall yelled.

"—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... Montague catches the Quaffle — passes Blair — and it's Blair with the Quaffle, Blair heading back up the pitch and — nice Bludger there from George Weasley, she drops the Quaffle, caught by Niall Murray, Niall Murray of Gryffindor passes Chris Blair and Blair's away—"

Lee Jordan's commentary rang through the stadium as Katie concentrated hard on keeping both herself and her team in check. She had forgotten how hard it was to focus while the crowd around were all cheering, booing and singing.

"—dodges Warrington, avoids a Bludger — close call, Christian — and the crowd are loving this, just listen to them, what's that they're singing?"

And as Lee paused to listen, the song rose loud and clear from the sea of green and silver in the Slytherin section of the stands.

'Weasley cannot save a thing,

He cannot block a single ring,

That's why Slytherins all sing:

Weasley is our King.

Weasley was born in a bin

He always lets the Quaffle in

Weasley will make sure we win

Weasley is our King.'

Katie felt a sudden sense of loathing towards her own house that she hadn't felt since she was thirteen years old. This was Ron's first ever Quidditch game for the school and he had been dreading it for weeks, so how could they be so cruel as to taunt him like that?

Katie had been playing Quidditch long enough to know that channeling her rage into her playing was actually a healthy output for anger, and could also improve her playing, which was proven when Graham passed the Quaffle to her, and she tore up the pitch, throwing the ball neatly through the left hoop to tumultuous applause from the Slytherins.

Ron cursed loudly, though Katie was certain only she could hear it, and she felt a deep setting feeling of guilt when the Weasley is our King song rang louder throughout the stadium.

"—and Chris passes back to Angelina!" Lee shouted. "Come on now, Angelina — looks like she's just got the Keeper to beat! — SHE SHOOTS — SHE — aaaah..."

Bletchley had saved the goal. He threw the Quaffle to Warrington, who sped off with it; zigzagging in between Chris and Niall; the singing below grew louder and louder as he drew nearer to Ron.

'Weasley is our King,

Weasley is our King,

He always lets the Quaffle in

Weasley is our King.'

"—and it's Warrington with the Quaffle, Warrington heading for goal, he's out of Bludger range with just the Keeper ahead—"

Katie and Graham raced down the field, flanking either side of Cassius in case he was to drop the Quaffle or be intercepted by a Bludger.

'Weasley cannot save a thing,

He cannot block a single ring...'

"—come on, Ron!" Lee shouted. The scream of delight came from the Slytherin end of the stands: Ron had dived wildly, his arms wide, and the Quaffle had soared between them straight through Ron's central hoop.

"Slytherin score!" came Lee's voice amid the cheering and booing from the crowds below, "so that's twenty-nil to Slytherin — bad luck, Ron."

The Slytherins sang even louder.

'WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN

HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN...'

Katie's insides were boiling with fury and she was finding it hard to concentrate on anything but her anger towards the Slytherins and her deep pity for Ron.

"—and Gryffindor back in possession and it's Niall Murray tanking up the pitch—" Lee cried valiantly, though the singing was now so deafening that he could hardly make himself heard above it.

'WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN

WEASLEY IS OUR KING...'

"—and it's Warrington again," Lee bellowed, "who passes to Blair, Blair's off past Blair of Gryffindor, come on now, Angelina, you can take her — turns out you can't — but nice Bludger from Fred Weasley, I mean, George Weasley, oh, who cares, one of them, anyway, and Warrington drops the Quaffle, and Niall Murray — er — drops it, too — so that's Montague with the Quaffle and he's off up the pitch, come on now, Gryffindor, block him!"

A Bludger obstructed Graham's path and he dropped the Quaffle. Katie dived beneath him and caught the scarlet ball before Niall could manage to, and she streaked up the pitch.

'WEASLEY CANNOT SAVE A THING...'

"—and Blair's dodged Chris again and she's heading straight for the goal, stop it, Ron!"

There was a terrible groan from the Gryffindor end, coupled with fresh screams and applause from the Slytherins.

'THAT'S WHY SLYTHERINS ALL SING:

WEASLEY IS OUR KING.'

Minutes later, Katie had scored two more goals, and Slytherin were leading by fifty points. Both Draco and Harry were circling boundaries of the pitch, scoping the area for the Snitch. As much as Katie hated to admit it, if Harry and Draco both caught sight of the Snitch and had to race for it, Harry would more than likely win, and not just because of his Firebolt, but because of his raw skill when it came to playing Quidditch.

"—and Niall Murray of Gryffindor dodges Blair, ducks Montague, nice swerve, Niall, and he throws to Johnson, Angelina Johnson takes the Quaffle, she's past Warrington, she's heading for the goal, come on now, Angelina — GRYFFINDOR SCORE! It's fifty-ten, fifty-ten to Slytherin and Katie Blair has the Quaffle — Blair throws to Warrington, Warrington to Montague, Montague back to Blair — Johnson intervenes, Johnson takes the Quaffle, Johnson to Chris Blair, this looks good — I mean bad — Blair's hit by a Bludger from Goyle of Slytherin and it's Katie Blair in possession again..."

'WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN

HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN

WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN...'

Out of the corner of her eye, Katie saw Harry dive from the sky. In a matter of seconds, Draco was charging down the pitch on his left. Her heart racing, hands sweating, Katie dropped the Quaffle and didn't see who retrieved it.

Feet from the ground, Harry lifted his right hand from his broom, stretching towards the Snitch... Katie was growing numb — there was no way Slytherin were going to lose this...

"DRACO, STOP BEING A GENTLEMAN, KNOCK HIM OFF HIS BROOM!" Katie roared, but it done no good. It was over in two desperate, windswept seconds — Harry's fingers closed around the tiny, struggling ball, he pulled his broom upwards as the Gryffindors roared their approval.

Katie felt the blood draining from her face. With a sinking feeling of disbelief in her stomach, she drifted towards the ground, landing with a thud on the frozen grass. Graham dismounted his broom next to her and they both shook their head slowly, neither of them having words to describe their disappointment.

Harry's triumph was short lived, however, because Crabbe swung his bat, hitting Harry in the small of the back with a Bludger. Harry slipped forward off his broom, fell about five feet, and landed on his back on the ground.

"Crabbe!" Katie bellowed angrily. "Get down here!"

But Madam Hooch had flown towards Crabbe and was lecturing him. Katie glanced helplessly towards Harry, growled in annoyance, then mounted her broom once more and flew up to join Crabbe and Madam Hooch.

"Madam Hooch, if I may—" Katie said over the referee's frantic shouting.

"No you may not, Miss Blair!" Madam Hooch snapped. "Kindly lead the rest of your team back into the changing rooms."

Sighing, Katie hopped onto her feet once more.

"Come on..." she muttered emptily to Graham. She was still thoroughly disheartened by their loss.

Many feet away, Draco was yelling insults at the Gryffindor team. It took the combined strength of Angelina, Chris and Niall to hold Fred back, while Harry was managing to restrain George by himself.

"Sweet Merlin..." Katie grumbled, slinging her broom over her shoulder and breaking into a sprint.

"—but you like the Weasleys, don't you, Potter?" Draco was saying, sneering. "Spend holidays there and everything, don't you? Can't see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you've been dragged up by Muggles, even the Weasleys' hovel smells OK—"

Katie seized Draco around the arm and tried to haul him away. "Leave it, Draco," she warned darkly. "Come on, let it go—"

But Draco violently shoved her off and she stumbled, regaining her balance just in time to save herself from falling over.

"Or perhaps," Draco said, leering as he backed away, "you can still remember what your mother's house stank like, Potter, and the Weasley's pigsty reminds you of it—"

"Draco, please..." Katie whimpered, desperately tugging at his arm.

It all happened in the blink of an eye. Harry released George and a second later, both of them were sprinting towards Draco. With no time to draw out his wand, Harry merely drew back his fist clutching the Snitch and sank it as hard as he could into Draco's stomach.

"Harry!" Katie screamed. "Harry, stop!"

"Harry! HARRY! GEORGE! NO!" the Gryffindor Quidditch Team were shouting.

All around them, people in the stands were bellowing as Harry and George punched every inch of Draco that they could reach. Katie tried to break them up, but this only resulted in her getting an accidental but brutal punch in the jaw.

A whistle blew and somebody in the vicinity yelled "Impedimenta!" and Harry and George were knocked backwards by the force of the spell.

"What do you think you're doing?" Madam Hooch screeched. It seemed to have been her who had cast the Impediment Jinx; she was holding her whistle in one hand and a wand in the other; her broom lay abandoned several feet away. Draco was curled up on the ground, moaning, his nose bloody; George was sporting a swollen lip; Fred was still being forcibly restrained by the three Gryffindor Chasers; Crabbe was cackling in the background, and Katie massaged her jaw as her vision slipped in and out of focus.