Quidditch in the evenings. Out on the field with only Your team members, it's very exposed, Potter --" "

We've got our first match on Saturday!" said Harry, outraged. "I've got to train, Professor!"

 Professor McGonagall considered him intently. Harry knew she was deeply interested in the Gryffindor team's prospects; it had been she, after all, who'd suggested him as Seeker in the first Place. He waited, holding his breath. 

"Hmm..." Professor McGonagall stood up and stared out of the window at the Quidditch field, just visible through the rain. "Well... goodness knows, I'd like to see us win the Cup at last... but all the same, Potter... I'd be happier if a teacher were present. I'll ask Madam Hooch to oversee your training sessions." 

The weather worsened steadily as the first Quidditch match drew nearer. Undaunted, the Gryffindor team was training harder than ever under the eye of Madam Hooch. Then, at their final training session before Saturday's match, Oliver Wood gave his team some unwelcome news. 

"We're not playing Slytherin!" he told them, looking very angry. "Flint's just been to see me. We're playing Hufflepuff instead." 

"Why?" chorused the rest of the team. 

"Flint's excuse is that their Seeker's arm's still injured," said Wood, grinding his teeth furiously. "But it's obvious why they're doing it. Don't want to play in this weather. Think it'll damage their chances...." 

There had been strong winds and heavy rain all day, and as Wood spoke, they heard a distant rumble of thunder. 

"There's nothing wrong with Malfoy's arm!" said Harry furiously. "He's faking it!" 

"I know that, but we can't prove it," said Wood bitterly.

"Oh, I can prove it, just let me get my hands on the bugger," growled Amelia. She had once again followed Harry to practice.

 "And we've been practicing all those moves assuming we're playing Slytherin, and