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This morning, Hermione and Ron had gotten into an argument over Harry asking Hermione and me about Slughorn's party yesterday evening. Since Harry had weaselled his way out of this one, I had to go. As Hermione said, it wasn't as bad as Harry and I thought, but Ron wasn't having any of it. Ron had rudely suggested that Hermione should sleep with Cormac McLaggen and be King and Queen Slugs.

"We're allowed to bring guests," said Hermione, who for some reason had turned a bright, boiling scarlet, "and I was going to ask you to come, but if you think it's that stupid then I won't bother!"

"You were going to ask me?" asked Ron, in a completely different voice.

"Yes," said Hermione angrily. "But obviously if you'd rather I hooked up with McLaggen..."

"No, I wouldn't," said Ron, in a very quiet voice.

The rest of the day consisted of Harry complaining about needing to replace Katie Bell's position of Chaser. Katie Bell was still in St. Mungo's Hospital with no prospect of leaving, which meant that the promising Gryffindor team. During Transfiguration, Harry cornered Dean Thomas and offered him the spot for tonight's practice.

There was much muttering in the common room about the fact that Harry had now chosen two of his classmates and two of his friends for the team. The pressure was increasing to provide a win in the upcoming match against Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, I knew that the whole House would forget that they had criticized Harry and swear that they had always known it was a great team. If we lost...

An hour into practice, it was going well. Dean worked well with Ginny and me. The Beaters, Peakes and Coote, were getting better all the time. There was only one problem: Ron.

Not only was Ron still upset over him and Hermione's argument in Herbology, but he also was suffering from nerves and a lack of confidence from the looming prospect of the opening game.

After letting in half a dozen goals, most of them scored by me, his technique became wilder and wilder, until he finally punched me in the mouth as I flew past.

"It was an accident, I'm sorry, Lottie, really sorry!" Ron shouted after me as I zigzagged back to the ground, dripping blood everywhere. "I just —"

"Panicked," Ginny shouted angrily, landing next to me and examining my mouth. "You prat, Ron, look at the state of her!"

"I can fix that," said Harry, landing beside us, pointing his wand at my mouth, and saying "Episkey." Then he turned to Ginny and said, "don't call Ron a prat, you're not the Captain of this team —"

"Well, he is," I scoffed, looking up at Ron. "Try to hit the Quaffles, not the Chasers!"

Harry looked like he tried to not laugh.

"In the air, everyone, let's go..."

Overall it was one of the worst practices we've had all year.

"Good work, everyone, I think we'll flatten Slytherin," Harry said bracingly and the Chasers and Beaters left the changing room looking reasonably happy with themselves.

Running up from the library, I heard angry, loud voices coming from the corridor where the shortcut to Gryffindor tower was.

"—kissing Pigwidgeon, have you? Or have you got a picture of Auntie Muriel stashed under your pillow?"

Uh oh, I thought and quickly stood in front of Ginny, causing her to jump.

"You—"

A streak of orange light flew under Harry's left arm, passed my head, and missed Ginny by inches; Harry pushed Ron up against the wall.

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