Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Time jump warning

Christmas Break was interesting for Harry. It was a nice break from the staring of the Hogwarts' population but Luke Reynolds definitely had some things to say about the danger of Hogwarts.

Harry couldn't blame him. To be honest he was shocked it hadn't made the Daily Prophet. Maybe because the only victim so far had been a cat - and a squib's cat at that. Not that Harry thought Filch being a squib meant anything bad, but the wizarding world seemed to. According to Terry, squibs were shunned in their society, often left on the streets, abandoned even by their families, their parents.

Neville had been presumed to be a squib by his family. To the point where they nearly killed him trying to get his magical side to come out and play. His uncle (or some other relative of his) had dangled him from the ankle out of a window, and then gotten distracted by something or other and dropped him. It took a while for Neville to see how wrong that was. That it was child endangerment and not even remotely appropriate - something Harry had drilled into him over and over again with force.

At least Neville's grandmother had apparently done something about it. Neville hadn't known at the time but she'd stopped all conversations with the uncle (or whatever) and the other relatives who'd stood around and let it happen - Augusta Longbottom, the matriarch of the Longbottom house, had been at a Wizengamot meeting at the time, unaware the lengths her family would go to to prove Neville was a wizard.

Neville had written to her asking about the event and that's when he'd found out what her reaction had been: pure, unbridled fury. Neville also realised that that was the last time he'd seen those relatives, not having had an extended family gathering since.

Harry wasn't quite sure why that fury hadn't come out last year when Dumbledore had made the school unsafe by using it as a vault for Nicholas Flamel. Maybe something to do with politics that Harry couldn't quite understand yet.

The only reason Luke had even let him go back to school for second year was because of how upset Harry would've been if he'd been separated from his friends - Luke didn't say it outright but Harry could tell he was worried for Harry's mental health, worried what effect it would have if he took him away from the strong foundations of friendship he had built.

Besides Harry needed to be able to control his magic, and there was no way Luke was sending him abroad to France or somewhere where he'd be so far from home and in a foreign environment where he wouldn't even be able to speak the language.

Luke was even more sceptical now. If it hadn't been just Mrs Norris who'd been petrified then he would have taken Harry out of the school straight away but alas for now the message on the wall seemed to be more of an empty threat than a warning.

It had been a relaxing and calm Christmas (other than the occasional arguments which arose over Hogwarts) and Harry couldn't help but be amused when Luke, red-faced and stammering, introduced him to his girlfriend, a nice blonde woman of a similar age to Luke who was a surgeon at the hospital. Apparently they'd been dating since (and literally as soon as) Harry had left to go to school in September, and though it was casual at this point, Harry could tell how happy Luke was.

"You're sure you're okay with it? Because if you need to I'll end–" Luke rambled on nervously only for Harry to laugh him off.

"I'm okay. In fact I'm more than okay with it." Harry had placated his nerves, and he wasn't lying. The woman, Ellie, was really nice but also had a sarcastic and sassy side to her which never failed to make Harry laugh.

Soon after Harry had returned to school. Thankfully most of the gossip had died down around Harry being the heir after nearly a month of nothing further happening with regards to the Chamber, and over the next two months even the occasional wayward stares had stopped, leaving Harry in peace.

Most of the Ravenclaws were infatuated with his new ability, eager to learn more - one even brought in a snake, asking Harry to have a conversation with it. Others thrusted books to him, telling him to try to perform the incantation in parseltongue - as if Harry had a clue how to do that.

Most of them didn't seem to realise how hard it was to start speaking parseltongue without having a snake in front of him, though Harry was practising.

It seemed like an interesting and potentially useful possibility - if the language in which the incantation was spoken could effect how much power was applied to spells. Also it would be helpful in duels: if his opposition couldn't tell what spell he was performing then that would make it harder for them to defend against it.

It was in these moments however, that Harry was glad he was in Ravenclaw and not in Hufflepuff or Gryffindor. The other 'claws cared far more about the intellectual possibilities that had arrived with Harry finding out he was a parseltongue that truly believing he was the Heir of Slytherin - plus, Ravenclaws actually looked at the facts, and Harry being a muggleborn was a pretty good evidence towards him not being Slytherin's blood-purist heir.

It wasn't until mid-March that Harry had his next Quidditch game - for some reason, despite being insanely popular, each team only had three matches a year. It was as though Hogwarts wasn't aware that you could have practice games, or inter-house tournaments (which would be pretty useful in improving inter-house unity). They could even have friendlies between first and second years or seventh years and teachers - seeing Snape on a broom would definitely be amusing. But no. 3 games a year.

The big match against Slytherin had arrived. Slytherin was the most dangerous competitor this year with each member of the team equipped with Nimbus 2001s, courtesy of Draco Malfoy's father.

The Ravenclaw-Slytherin quidditch match was probably the most looked forward to game of the year, after Gryffindor-Slytherin of course, and this year in particular was truly exciting: Ravenclaw had the best team they'd had in many years, but Slytherin was having an outstanding season and had trounced Hufflepuff into oblivion. Not that it was too hard to beat Hufflepuff, they had one good player, Cedric Diggory, and he was seeker, so it wasn't like he had much opportunity to affect the game unless he caught the snitch.

"A fair game." Hooch ordered them as they hovered on their brooms waiting for the balls to be released. The snitch had already been let go, given time to flurry away so that it wouldn't just be caught within the first few seconds and render the game pointless. It seemed to be a bit of a pointless thing to say - either the Slytherins were going to be their normal aggressive selves or they wouldn't, but whatever Hooch said would certainly not make a difference now.

"Ready to lose Davies?" Warrington taunted as Chester narrowed his eyes, the two having already exchanged what can only be described as a bone-breaking handshake.

Hooch released the balls, the quaffles first followed by the more violent bludgers before blowing her whistle, and as they piercing-loud noise echoed around the field fourteen players began to race around the pitch, all as eager and competitive as the last to win this match.

In a way being a seeker is the easiest role on the pitch. In a way it's the hardest. You have to sit around doing practically nothing but avoiding some bludgers for the entire game - which is theoretically easier that the chasers who spend the entire game speeding around the field, defending attacking, defending attacking, trying to rack up enough points to make the seeker's job unnecessary. It was certainly a more strenuous job than the seekers'.

The keepers too were important, they'd often decide the game if it lasted over the two hour mark and the seeker became irrelevant. A good keeper meant that your team would have the most possession, save the ball and then distribute it to your teammate, allowing for a quick counter-attack where you can hopefully form some sort of overload onto the opposition's goalkeeper. A good keeper, like Gryffindor's Oliver Wood, was often the second-most integral player in the game.

Then you get the beaters who are often just goons who like to play with bats - or at least that was the case for the Slytherins. The Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint, often liked to choose brawn over brains, which was evident in his selection of beaters: Lucian Bole was a big guy, with broad soldiers and a large frame, one who clearly liked to take full advantage of the all access buffet Hogwarts provided. The other beater, Peregrine Derrick, was of a similar build. He was by nature slightly smaller, which had it's benefits in making him a smaller target, but still was strong and could hit the bludger with enough force to wipe a more unskilled flyer off their broom.

Then you get the Gryffindor beaters who were perhaps the polar opposites of Bole and Derrick. Fred and George Weasley were, like the rest of the Weasley clan, lean and tall, growing more in the up direction than any other, but the two were by far the best beaters at Hogwarts. They had the advantage of being twins, some sort of unspoken connection always rested between them, and their teamwork was impeccable, the partnership of the Weasley twins was enough to instil fear into anybody at Hogwarts, both on and off the quidditch pitch.

The two were pranksters and jokers off the pitch, the most acclaimed trouble-makers since the era of the marauders - a group of unnamed students who wreaked havoc onto the Hogwarts' population (predominantly the Slytherins) during the seventies. They had become the stuff of legends in the Hogwarts' corridors, despite no-one having a clue who they really were.

And on the pitch the Weasleys' used that same skill of wreaking havoc, they were clever and tactical (probably because Oliver Wood apparently dragged the Gryffindor quidditch team out of their beds at the crack of dawn to teach them tactics), they knew exactly who to go to and when to hit them, who was paying enough attention to be able to avoid the bludger, and who'd take a hit. The also had the ability to read the game well, being able to sense who the ball was about to be passed to and then hitting the bludger at that person as they were about to receive it, often leading to a change in possession.

The Ravenclaw beaters, Jason Samuels and Duncan Inglebee, were good, but they hadn't built up a good enough partnership yet, the two having only been on the same team since the start of this season, and as such they didn't have the chemistry of the Weasley twins. They also didn't have the sheer strength of the Slytherin beaters, so instead rested in some sort of middle ground, not performing in the aggressive style of the Slytherins, whilst also not being as effective as the Weasleys.

Luckily for Ravenclaw they had a strong keeper, Grant Page, though he wasn't quite to the levels of Oliver Wood - but then again who was, the Gryffindor would probably fly professionally after Hogwarts.

They also had good potential in their chasers: Cho had the pace and agility of a seeker, but was also surprisingly good at handling the quaffle; Chester had good ball distribution and accuracy, as well as being very good defensively, always seeming to appear at the right moment to make some goal-saving interceptions; Roger was also well on his way to living up to his brother's legacy, though he still played as a rookie, nervous in his actions, he had great potential which became increasingly evident in their training sessions - though it would be interesting to see whether he could improve on his last performance against Gryffindor, which was almost tragically bad.

And then there was Harry. Harry was a good seeker - certainly better than the likes of Draco Malfoy, but the difference in their brooms did bridge that gap in level - he had also outperformed Cho in the trials, which was a huge confidence boost. The Gryffindor seeker was a joke, meaning it wasn't too hard for Harry to be considered the second best seeker in school, the first - obviously - being Cedric Diggory.

The 'Puff was a good seeker, who perhaps Harry would one day be able to outperform, but for now Diggory had the edge on Harry due to having an extra two full seasons of experience ahead of Harry - plus, as a pureblood, the boy had been playing the game since he was about six years old, whereas Harry had only been playing for two years.

The only thing for Harry to do right now however, was to beat Draco Malfoy, and prove that even with a worse broom, and less experience, he was still better than the pompous, superior blonde.

Unfortunately for Harry, the snitch didn't seem to want to play today.

You'd get matches where the snitch would appear around the stadium within five minutes, and stay in the vicinity of the fields, and then you'd get matches like today, where the snitch went on something akin to a joyride around the Forbidden Forest, leaving Harry and Malfoy just hovering above the stadium with literally nothing to do.

They had to keep alert, keep watching the snitch and stay focussed on the game to make sure they wouldn't be hit by a bludger, and that was what was the most difficult thing about being a seeker - not when you had to chase the snitch, but when you had to wait for the snitch. A lapse in concentration meant you could lose your team the entire match - seekers being the most influential players with the snitch being worth 150 points.

Furthermore, the game couldn't end until somebody had caught the snitch. Harry had read in Quidditch Through the Ages (a Christmas present from Terry) that the longest game of Quidditch had lasted over three months. Though that was a random game (non-league) where, apparently, half the players had gotten onto their brooms drunk, and both seekers had fallen off and gotten injured for a while, having to leave the game.

The longest game of Quidditch at Hogwarts had lasted a full two days - that was when matches were moved to a Saturday so they wouldn't infringe on school. A lot of pepper-up potions and quick naps had - according to Terry, who'd heard about the game from his older cousin - been instrumental in completing the game, as well as reserves having to actually be used like football substitutions (which was an incredibly rare occurrence).

Today's game had already lasted four hours, and Harry couldn't help but feel bored out of his mind. Even Lee Jordan, the normally vivacious and comedic commentator, seemed to be a bit tired of the game, now occasionally rambling on about something random whilst monotonously reading the score.

"Well, this is fun." A voice came from over Harry's shoulder, shaking him out of his thoughts. Much to his surprise as he turned around he was met with the face of Draco Malfoy - though why the blonde was talking to him, he had no idea.

"Um." Harry started, really coherently, dumbfounded as the Malfoy heir started a conversation in a non-aggressive way. "Why are you talking to me?"

"I'm bored." Malfoy explained and Harry couldn't help but let out a sigh of agreement. "What's the point of fancy brooms if there's no snitch to chase?"

"Shouldn't you be looking for the snitch?" Harry asked, reminding himself to scan around the field - knowing he would receive the same result as he had the last hundred times.

"It's gone off somewhere." Malfoy told Harry as if he didn't already know that.

"I know, but it will come back." Harry retorted, turning around to face Malfoy despite himself.

"And when it does, you'll see it and race after it, and I'll chase you and then overtake you because my brooms far better - and don't even think I'd fall for one of your tricks like the Gryffindork did." Malfoy warned him and Harry couldn't help but laugh at how Malfoy labelled the Gryffindor seeker. "What?" Malfoy asked, curious as to what had set Harry off.

"Gryffindork." Harry replied, still laughing to the point where he really needed to control himself lest he fall off his own broom - it wasn't even that funny, but after four hours of being lost in his own (boring) thoughts, plus the image of Seamus Finnegan and Ron Weasley somehow both causing eyebrow-searing explosions in the same charms lesson the Friday beforehand definitely also contributed to Harry's laughter. "That's perfect." Harry told Malfoy, failing to notice how the tips of his ears reddened at Harry's compliment.

"Yeah, well. They're dumb."

"Agreed." Harry paused. "Why are you being nice, well, nice-ish, to me?" He asked reluctantly, scared to risk Malfoy's mood changing.

"I'm bored."

"No, but seriously." Harry protested, keen to get an actual answer. "Ever since I came to Hogwarts you've been a complete dick for me for literally no reason. So, why now? What's changed?"

Malfoy clenched his jaw, clearly disliking the change in conversation, and for a second Harry thought he was going to fly away but then he did something even more shocking, and actually responded: "On the train..."

"I didn't see you on the train?" Harry asked after realising Malfoy wasn't going to elaborate.

"At the start of the year. Not Christmas." Malfoy explained and Harry blushed in realisation - he was referencing when Harry had been having a little bit of a breakdown over calling Luke 'dad' and had blurted out how he was adopted to Malfoy.

"Right." Harry hesitated again before he broached the topic further. "But that was over a term ago?"

"Yeah." Dra- Malfoy sighed. "I just can't stop thinking about it."

"About what? That I'm adopted?" Harry asked, seriously perplexed.

"I thought you were a mud- a muggleborn." Draco corrected himself.

"Oh." Harry sighed in realisation. "So you're only talking to me now because you've realised you don't actually know my blood status?" Harry asked growing in anger.

"No!" D- Malfoy protested. "I just realise-"

"-You just realised that I wasn't a 'filthy mudblood' and you think that now I'm worth your time." Harry interrupted, facing away from Malfoy to fly away, wanting to put as much distance between himself and the Malfoy heir as possible. To think that for a second Harry actually thought he might have changed.

"Look-" Malfoy tried to get Harry's attention "-I could have told everyone that you weren't a muggleborn, but then they'd have realised you might still be the Heir."

"Wow. Thank you so much." Harry retorted sarcastically and couldn't help but feel satisfied as Malfoy flinched backwards. "You can't actually think I'm the heir?" Harry asked, scoffing as he came to the conclusion that Harry having parseltongue - and thus potentially being Slytherin's heir - was the reason that Malfoy was talking to him.

"No. Of course not." Malfoy shot back but Harry didn't believe him - he wouldn't get tricked that easily by Malfoy twice in such a short amount of time.

"Right." Harry retorted and turned in the other direction flying off, not seeing the hurt look that washed over Malfoy's face as he flew away. As he moved away from Malfoy - purposefully ignoring Lee Jordan's commentary as soon as he heard both of their names in the same sentence - he caught a glimpse of something golden. "Great timing." He muttered under his breath sarcastically. "You couldn't have appeared five minutes ago?" He asked as he wrapped his hand around the snitch and held it up in the air, signalling the end of the game.

Despite the relieved applause from the Ravenclaw contingency (and Hufflepuff and Gryffindor - they really didn't want to see Slytherin win) Harry couldn't bring himself to smile, only replaying his conversation with Malfoy over and over again in his head. He pushed the snitch into Chester's hand before walking off into the changing rooms, leaving Chester confused as he wondered why on earth Harry would be upset when they just won the biggest game of the year.

It turned out a week later he'd have even more to be upset about as Justin Finch-Fletchley was petrified - and Harry had no alibi and if Draco Malfoy told everyone that he wasn't a muggleborn... well, to be frank, Harry would be screwed.