Chapter One

It used to be that Harry Potter hated nothing more than the Dursleys. Not even Brussels sprouts. Not even troll booger- flavored jellybeans. Not even the cramped, dark, spider-infested cupboard under the stairs of Number Four, Privet Drive, where Harry had once been forced to sleep. But that had all changed when Harry discovered that he was a wizard and went off to Hogwarts, the school that was more of a home to him than that stupid cupboard. Yet, as wonderful as Hogwarts was, Harry soon found that there were worse things than the Dursleys, even Dudley, the fat twit. One of those things was Professor Snape, who hated Harry just as much, or even more, in return. But Snape did have a few good points, like saving Harry's neck once or twice. Then there was Voldemort (or You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or any other hyphenated nickname for the evil wizard that was bound to come after Harry and any other Muggle-lover that stood in his way). But Harry had always managed to escape from Voldemort's clutches before a deadly ray of green light blasted him. And even though Snape always gave him bad marks and even though Voldemort had killed his parents, not to mention a hundred others, including Cedric, Harry's schoolmate and friend, there was still one person that Harry hated even more. Draco Malfoy.

In general, Harry loathed summer vacations. After all, he always had to go back to live with the Dursleys, who were not exactly fond of him in normal circumstances. But this summer was the worst, all because of Fred and George Weasley. The Weasley twins, who were the older brothers of Harry's best friend, Ron, were known to be experts at the practical joke and last summer, just before Harry went off to stay with the Weasleys and go to the Quidditch World Cup final, the twins played one of their pranks on Dudley, Harry's dull-witted, large-wasted cousin. In fact, when Fred and George were done with him, Dudley was even fatter, his tongue ballooning up to the size of a rather large boa constrictor. It was hilarious at the time, but now that Harry was back under the Dursleys' roof, things were far from funny. No longer frightened by the threats of retaliation if Harry's godfather, the escaped killer Sirius Black, heard about any mistreatment, Uncle Vernon moved Harry from Dudley's second room back to his old cupboard. "Just as well," Harry had lied. "I could curse my way out of here any time." Unfortunately for Harry, Uncle Vernon knew this was a bluff and that Harry, as an under-aged wizard, was forbidden to practice magic in the Muggle world, so all Harry got out of his threat was a sneer. Harry did write and complain to Sirius, but as his godfather was not really a murderer and had more important things to deal with, his only advice was to hang in there and keep an eye out for You-Know-Who, who had regained a lot of power during Harry's last term.

As bad as his summers were though, Harry was usually comforted by the fact that he had a couple of Draco-free months, which were worth sleeping in that dusty cupboard. Which is why Harry nearly exploded when he read the letter a familiar-looking eagle owl had dropped at the foot of the stairs for him in early July.

There was nothing Harry would like better than to see Malfoy's face smashed in by a bludger or two, but there were several problems with this challenge. For one thing, Harry had given his word both to Sirius and Professor Dumbledore, Hogwarts' headmaster, that he would stay with the Dursleys until he heard otherwise from them. Also, he had no idea how to put together a Quidditch team in nine days. Still, he couldn't back down from Malfoy without a fight. So Harry called the one person that would try to talk him out of it.

"Hello?"

"Hi Hermione, it's Harry."

"Oh, Harry! It's great to hear from you, especially because I was reading up on Quidditch and I…"

"Wait! Why were you reading about Quidditch? You hate flying."

"I know, but I thought you might need me for your team. I know you don't think I'm that good, but I've been practicing every day and…"

"Hold on a minute! How do you know about my team? I only just got Malfoy's challenge by owl a minute ago!"

"Honestly, Harry. How many times have I told you that you should subscribe to The Daily Prophet? There was an article in there three days ago about Lucius Malfoy renting Hogsmeade Park for the summer so Draco could play junior Quidditch, and when the journalist (thank goodness it wasn't that awful Skeeter woman, but I've got her under control) asked Draco about the teams he plans on playing, Malfoy said that he challenged you but he figures you're too scared of his new firebolt because he hadn't heard back from you yet."

"Maybe because he only challenged me this morning."

"Well, I think you can still beat him and his new broom into a pulp, and Ron says…"

"You mean you approve of this? You?!"

"Well, Harry, it's only a game, isn't it?"

"But I'm not supposed to leave the house! And what about Lucius Malfoy? You know he's the biggest Death Eater around! He could be up to something! And how am I supposed to put a proper team together in time?" Harry was embarrassed by sounding so worried over a simple Quidditch match, but mainly he was surprised by Hermione's reaction to it all. Normally, she would have threatened to tell Dumbledore in order to keep Harry out of trouble.

"For one thing," she answered, "I'm sure that Professor Dumbledore and Sirius know about it, especially because they read The Prophet. And you still have more than a week to write one of them and ask if it's ok. Besides, Mr. Malfoy wouldn't dare try anything in public so soon after last time. He's so scared of Azkaban, he'll wait until You-Know-Who is really strong until he does anything too illegal. As for the team, Ron's working on putting one together as we speak. So just send Hedwig off to Sirius now and then call me when you get a response. Ron says you can stay with him until the match so the team can practice."

Harry felt very odd when he hung up the phone. Normally, Hermione was the cautious one. What was going on? Harry just told himself that his last encounter with Voldemort had rattled his nerves a bit more than he had thought and that everything would be ok. Soon, he wasn't the only one saying that. Hedwig came back with Sirius's response the next morning, which told Harry that his godfather was both alive and close by, two very comforting facts.

So that settled it. Harry gave word to Hagrid and Hermione and told the Dursleys he was leaving for two weeks. "The hell you are!" screamed his Uncle Vernon. "You aren't going anywhere but back to the ruddy cupboard!"

Harry was tempted to say that he was leaving no matter what Uncle Vernon said, but he decided that there was a better way to go about getting permission. "Didn't you mention something about a big business dinner here on Friday? It would be a shame if my owl turned up right when you were serving dessert, wouldn't it? Or if my friend Ron came calling with his flying car, like before?"

Uncle Vernon turned an interesting shade of purple, while Aunt Petunia stammered on about the neighbors and the embarrassment of it all. "I think it would be a good idea for you to visit your friend. Go. Now."

Mr. Dursley had barely finished speaking when Harry ran off to get his things. Harry was relieved that Uncle Vernon had never learned the fate of the Weasleys' flying car, which was living wild somewhere in the Forbidden Forrest at the edge of Hogwarts. After Harry had packed some clothes, his Firebolt and broom servicing kit, he told Hedwig that he would be back in two weeks as he carried his bag to the fire place, which Mr. Dursley had left open after the Weasleys broke through it last summer. Harry had bought some Floo powder in Diagon Alley last year and only hoped he had enough to get him and his bags to Ron's house in one piece. After throwing the powder into the flames, he slowly stepped into the fireplace and calmly said, "The Burrow."

After a short but nauseating ride, Harry ended up in the Burrow, a cramped and beaten-up old house that Harry would have given anything to live in. But something wasn't quite right. It was quiet. In all of the times Harry had been there, the house had never been quiet, especially with all of the explosions coming from Fred and George's room. But then Harry looked out of the bay window and saw that the entire family was picnicking outside. Just then, Ron caught his eye and waved.

"Oy! Harry! Come out here!"

Mrs. Weasley jumped to her feet to give Harry a hug as he stepped outside. "Hello, dear. How have you been?"

"Fine, thanks," he answered as he sat down between Ron and his blushing little sister, Ginny.

"Hi, Harry," she greeted shyly. It was no secret that Ginny Weasley had the biggest crush on Harry.

"Hey, Ginny, how's your summer been?" She didn't have a chance to answer as Ron cut her off, eager to talk Quidditch.

"Awfully glad you took that scum up on his offer, Harry. Now, our real problem is finding a decent Keeper. Fred and George can be Beaters, you're the Seeker obviously, and me, Hermione, and Cho can be Chasers, but…"

"Cho Chang?" Harry interrupted, suddenly aware that his cheeks were getting hot.

"Yeah, I know she's usually a Seeker but…"

"Cho said she would be on my team?" This was too good to be true.

"Yes, but Harry, that's not the problem! We don't have a Keeper!"

"Oh, I forgot that Wood graduated." Oliver Wood had been Gryffindor's Keeper and team captain two years ago, but with the Quiddtich hiatus from last year, it had slipped Harry's mind. "Do you know where he is now?"

"Been promoted from the reserve team to the regular Puddmere United. They're playing in Eastern Europe this month," answered Mr. Weasley, who usually kept good track of people.

"How about Alicia, Angelina, or Katie?" asked Harry.

"You know, I forgot to ask Angelina!" answered Ron, as he slapped himself on the forehead rather loudly.

"How could you forget about Angelina? She's only the hottest girl on the team!" replied George, but he dropped the subject rather quickly once he caught the look on his mother's face.

"But she's a Chaser," Ron continued, "so that means Cho or I will have to be the keeper."

"Why not Hermione?" asked Harry, even though he knew the answer. Hermione was terrible at sports.

"Don't be a dolt! The only reason I'm letting her on the team is because she's here and we need three Chasers. As long as the other two do their job, we'll be fine. But there's only one Keeper and it's not going to be her. She'd probably just sit on her broom, quoting from Quidditch through the Ages as the quaffle flies bye."

Harry tried hard not to laugh, as his mouth was full with a delicious treacle tart. Once he had finished eating, he told Ron and the twins what he had decided. "Right. Fred and George will be the Beaters, Angelina, Ron and Hermione will be Chasers, and Cho will be keeper, since it's a lot closer to the Seeker position and a lot further from the bludgers. But what about brooms? We can't get to the school brooms to replace your Shooting Star and Cleansweeps, and Cho's only got a Comet."

"Oh, I forgot to tell you!" exclaimed Ron, suddenly looking very proud. "Fred and George bought Nimbus 2000s for the whole family!" Then he whispered into Harry's ear, "Don't know where they got the money, though." Harry knew. It was his prize money from the Triwizard Tournament. "And Angelina could borrow her parents' 2001s for her and Cho, and Cho can lend her stinking Comet to Hermione for the match." With that settled, Ron sent Pig off with letters to the other teammates, telling them to meet at the Burrow the next afternoon.

Harry slept better that night than he had all summer. For some reason, being with the Weasleys made his nightmare about Voldemort's return to power disappear. Just before he had gone to bed, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had pulled Harry into the kitchen to talk.

"How have you been getting along?" asked Mr. Weasley with a look of concern.

"I'm doing alright, Mr. Weasley. Apart from being worried about everyone, that is."

"What do you mean, dear?" asked Mrs. Weasley. Harry loved that she always called him "dear".

"Sirius and you two and Dumbledore and everyone that is going to fight against Vold…I mean You-Know-Who. Even Snape. I know that You-Know-Who isn't in England for now, but it's only a matter of time before he starts killing people again, isn't it? Can you tell me anything about what's been going on?" Harry doubted that they would, though. Even though he had faced Voldemort before and come through on the other side, people still saw him as just a kid. Sometimes though, Harry didn't mind that too much. Thinking about having the most powerful dark wizard in ages as your mortal enemy wasn't exactly the mark of a normal childhood.

Mrs. Weasley just smiled at him, and Harry could see what was coming. "I know that you have a lot invested in this battle, Harry, but you have to remember that, for now at least, this isn't your fight. As much as you'd hate to admit it, you are just a boy. It's best if you just let us worry for you for the moment. Even Arthur and I can be brave, like you. All of us are just fine for now, that I can say." It wasn't very assuring, but Harry took Mrs. Weasley's advice and went to bed thinking about Quidditch and Cho, instead of Voldemort and Death Eaters.