Madam Hooch blew the whistle, signaling the start of the game. I was up in the sky, green robes fluttering behind me. I was number four, written in silver on my back. I lowered my goggles onto my eyes for protection.

I saw the quaffle soaring across the field. Ron Weasley looked surprised to see me in front of him, trying to knock the quaffle in. He scowled as Blaise tossed me the ball. Spinning, I tried knocking it in, but Weasley blocked it. He was doing great without realizing there was no Felix Felicis coursing through his veins; it was all him. I grinned, giving him a thumbs up.

"Steele! Whose side are you on?" I heard Malfoy shout from above me. He was looking for the snitch. Blaise hit the quaffle. It flew in, slightly discouraging Ron.

"You can do it," I snapped my fingers, zooming past him. "Focus!"

"STEELE!" Malfoy hollered. "What's the matter with you?"

It was ten to twenty, Gryffindor in the lead. I swooped, grabbing the quaffle and flew towards the hoops on my Comet 290. I pretended to throw it in, Ron flying towards it, and then smacked it with the end of my broom in the opposite direction. It flew in. The quaffle was thrown back in the center, Katie Bell catching it.

"ELVIRA STEELE. THE QUAFFLE IS BEHIND YOU."

"DRACO MALFOY. GET OFF MY BACK! I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING."

Twenty to twenty. I turned to look for Malfoy, but he and Harry were gone. The snitch was probably sighted. I looked up to see them swooping down. Malfoy shoved against him, and he fought back, bumping against him.

Harry was amazing. He did a complete nosedive, grabbing for the snitch. What I didn't see, though, busy admiring the seekers, was the bludger heading straight towards me. The green section, and the red, let out a gasp as the bludger crashed into the front of my broom, sending me spiraling in the direction of the rings. My neck jerked, and I held on for dear life. The next thing I knew, I was falling off the broom towards the ground.

Well, this was going to be painful.

I braced myself to hit the hard floor, when suddenly I was flying again. I opened my eyes to see the ground coming closer, but not as fast as it had been before.

"Thanks," I said, to whoever had saved my life. I was too embarrassed to see who it was. When I reached the ground I hopped off, brushing off my Quidditch robes. I turned. "Thanks again. I-" I froze, all the blood draining from my face. It was Malfoy. I'd been wishing for Harry all along. It would've been more romantic, with a slight wink and thank you's. I groaned.

"Shut up," he hissed, grabbing my arm and giving me a shake. "Look what you did. I didn't get the snitch." Sure enough, Harry was zooming around in the air, waving the little gold ball.

"Why didn't you just go for it?" I pushed back, annoyed. "Madam Pomfrey could've nursed me out my coma in no more than a week. Or two."

"We can't only have one chaser on the team, Steele, or we're going to be disqualified against Ravenclaw." His face was red. He seemed really, really angry.

"I'm sorry."

"Why weren't you paying attention? The whole time you were encouraging that . . . that Weasley. Before, I was pushing you when I asked what side you were on just for the sake of your background," he waved his arms around, frustrated. "Now I really mean it. Steele, what side are you on? Get your head in the game!" He turned, stomping away. I gripped my broom, seething.

* * *

"You were amazing for someone who hasn't touched a broom in ages," Tracey said as I walked back, still furious. "That throw . . . amazing, Steele. And the end?" she giggled. "Saved by the snake, am I right?"

"Shut it, Tracey," I grumbled. "I never knew it was possible to despise someone this much."

"Well, you were encouraging Weasley . . ."

"He's my friend! This year, Cho Chang tried out for a spot on the Gryffindor team. And this is another team I'm talking about. Not related to her house what. So. Ever. And she's a Ravenclaw!"

"I get it, but this is Slytherin versus Gryffindor we're talking about," Tracey tried to reason.

"Does that make any sense at all to you?" I said. "So what if I was rooting for a friend in a different house?"

"In the enemy house," she corrected. "Plus, you've been hanging out with them a lot lately . . ."

"Tracey!"

"Sorry. But you kind of are. You're always with that Mu-"

"Tracey Davis," I said between my teeth.

"Sorry. Again. Granger," she corrected herself. "Look what you're doing to me, Steele."

"I'm making you less-unnecessarily-hateful."

"Believe me, I get it." We took a right through a corridor, heading towards the dungeons. "So that means you're really friends with them?"

"So what if I am?"

"I thought I was your best friend," she whined.

I grabbed her shoulders, turning her to face me. "You will always be my best friend, Davis," I said, completely serious. "Do me a favor." I pulled up my left sleeve. "Show me your arm."

She looked shocked for a moment. "What?"

"Your left arm. Show it to me."

"Are you asking if I'm a-"

"I know you aren't. I want you to trust me, and I want to trust you fully."

"Fine." She rolled up her sleeve to show a bare arm. "I'm not a Death Eater, Steele."

"I know you're not," I patted her shoulder, "and I know you'll never be. But somebody is. There's always one, and if there's one, there are more."

I heard the sound of footsteps approaching us. Both of our heads whipped in the direction of the incoming person, only to find it was Malfoy. Again. His eyes lowered to our bare, outstretched arms, and his turned paper white. Completely pale, he ignored us, walking past me. Before he walked down the stairs, he turned around.

"You better cover up those arms. Don't want people to think you're planning something, Steele." His voice wasn't mocking. No sneering, no scowl. He was serious; his voice hinting at a warning. Then he made his way down the steps.

"I will never understand him," Tracey said, rolling her sleeve back down. "Thanks, Elvira. I'm freezing now."

* * *

"You will now divide into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence. Carry on," Snape instructed. I stood in front of Hermione, who was ready with her wand. Her eyes were focused. She gave it a flick, and suddenly, I felt my legs lock together. I fell to the ground like a stack of bricks. She undid the jinx, apologizing, and helped me up.

I aimed mine this time, and with a flick her mouth was glued shut. She tapped it, and I started laughing.

"Mmm . . . mm!" she scowled. Without speaking, I undid the jinx. Hermione worked her jaw. "For a moment there, I thought you weren't going to undo it."

"For a moment, I didn't think I was going to either. I finally felt some peace for the first time in six years." Hermione let out a gasp, offended.

"I thought I mentioned this was a nonverbal spell lesson," Snape drawled, walking towards us. "I shouldn't be hearing words."

"Sorry, professor," I said, pointing my wand at Hermione. She tried to jinx me again, but this time I repelled it perfectly with a smirk.

After class, Hermione wanted an update-as usual-except this time, Harry and Ron were with her.

"Why on earth were you playing for Slytherin today?" Ron asked, befuddled.

"What, you too?" I scowled at the three of them. "It's my house team," I said, exceedingly slow. "Why wouldn't I play for them?"

"Ron didn't mean that," Harry tried clearing up the tension, "it's just you've never played before."

"And you played well," Hermione added. "Except for when you fell off the broom. But that wasn't your fault. Jimmy and Ritchie can get a bit rough in the sky."

"I got that much," I continued walking. That's all I ever did. Walk, and pass around vital information.

"Malfoy did this epic save too," Ron said. "I hate him, but you would've probably been in the infirmary right now."

"Does that mean you two are close enough now?" Hermione asked. "Like, friends?"

I stopped, enraged. "I have gone through this once today. I don't need to go through it again, do the three of you understand?"

They stopped walking as well, nodding quickly. "We didn't mean it offensively. It's actually good if you two are friends," Harry said.

"Why? So I can get information out of him and give it to the three of you?" I scowled. "I'm not sinking that low."

"We don't need any information on him," Hermione cleared up-again. "Just if he's what Harry thinks he is."

"Okay." I nodded. "I'm still watching him. I don't know anything yet. He doesn't talk to me, in case you still haven't noticed."

"Dumbledore. . ." Harry said hesitantly, "something's up with him." We stopped around a corner, and Harry lowered his voice. "His hand is turning black. And he asked me to get something from Slughorn . . . A memory."

"What kind of a memory?" Hermione asked, and I was surprised to know she was hearing this for the first time.

"I don't know. He showed me in a tampered memory in the pensieve, one of Voldemort when he was younger. He asked Slughorn a question and Dumbledore wants to know what it is. Only Slughorn has it."

"So? Are you going to ask him what it is?" I asked, suddenly interested in this conversation.

"Yes. Probably, but I know he won't answer. I have to ask him strategically. There's no way someone's just going to hand over a memory that was changed just like that."

I pursed my lips. Suddenly, an idea came to me. I grinned. "Well, Good luck, Harry," I said with a wink. "You'll need it."

There was only one way he could retrieve that memory, and that was using Liquid Luck.