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ough the stadium：
'WEASLEY IS OUR KINC； WEASLEY IS OUR KING：'
There was no sign of the Snitch anywhere he looked； Malfoy was still circling the stadium just as he was。 They passed one another midway around the pitch； going in opposite directions； and Harry heard Malfoy singing loudly：
'WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN：'
'… and it's Warrington again；' bellowed Lee； 'who passes to Pucey； Pucey's off past Spinnet； e on now； Angelina； you can take him … turns out you can't … but nice Bludger from Fred Weasley； I mean； George Weasley； oh； who cares； one of them； anyway； and Warrington drops the Quaffle and Katie Bell … er … drops it； too … so that's Montague with the Quaffle； Slytherin Captain Montague takes the Quaffle and he's off up the pitch； e on now； Gryffindor； block him！'
Harry zoomed around the end of the stadium behind the Slytherin goalhoops； willing himself not to look at what was going on at Ron's end。 As he sped past the Slytherin Keeper； he heard Bletchley singing along with the crowd below：
'WEASLEY CANNOT SAVE A THING：〃
'… and Pucey's dodged Alicia again and he's heading straight for goal； stop it； Ron！'
Harry did not have to look to see what had happened： there was a terrible groan from the Gryffindor end； coupled with fresh screams and applause from the Slytherins。 Looking down； Harry saw the pug…faced Pansy Parkinson right at the front of the stands； her back to the pitch as she conducted the Slytherin supporters who were roaring：
THAT'S WHY SLYTHERINS ALL SING WEASLEY IS OUR KING。'
But twenty…nil was nothing； there was still time for Gryffindor to catch up or catch the Snitch。 A few goals and they would be in the lead as usual； Harry assured himself； bobbing and weaving through the other players in pursuit of something shiny that turned out to be Montague's watchstrap。
But Ron let in two more goals。 There was an edge of panic in Harry's desire to find the Snitch now。 If he could just get it soon and finish the game quickly。
'… and Katie Bell of Gryffindor dodges Pucey； ducks Montague； nice swerve； Katie； and she throws to Johnson； Angelina Johnson takes the Quaffle； she's past Warrington； she's heading for goal； e on now； Angelina … GRYFFINDOR SCORE！ It's forty…ten； forty…ten to Slytherin and Pucey has the Quaffle
Harry could hear Luna's ludicrous lion hat roaring amidst the Gryffindor cheers and felt heartened； only thirty points in it； that was nothing； they could pull back easily。 Harry ducked a Bludger that Crabbe had sent rocketing in his direction and resumed his frantic scouring of the pitch for the Snitch； keeping one eye on Malfoy in case he showed signs of having spotted it； but Malfoy； like him； was continuing to soar around the stadium； searching fruitlessly：
'… Pucey throws to Warrington； Warrington to Montague； Montague back to Pucey …Johnson intervenes； Johnson takes the
Quaffle； Johnson to Bell； this looks good … I mean bad … Bells hit by a Bludger from Goyle of Slytherin and it's Pucey in possession
'WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN
HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN …》。
WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN
But Harry had seen it at last： the tiny fluttering Golden Snitch was hovering feet from the ground at the Slytherin end of the pitch。
He dived：
In a matter of seconds； Malfoy was streaking out of the sky on Harry's left； a green and silver blur lying flat on his broom：
The Snitch skirted the foot of one of the goalhoops and scooted off towards the other side of the stands； its change of direction suited Malfoy； who was nearer； Harry pulled his Firebolt around； he and Malfoy were now neck and neck：
Feet from the ground； Harry lifted his right hand from his broom； stretching towards the Snitch： to his right； Malfoy's arm extended too； was reaching； groping：
It was over in two breathless； desperate； windswept seconds …Harry's fingers closed around the tiny； struggling ball … Malfoy's fingernails scrabbled the back of Harry's hand hopelessly … Harry pulled his broom upwards； holding the struggling ball in his hand and the Gryffindor spectators screamed their approval：
They were saved； it did not matter that Ron had let in those goals； nobody would remember as long as Gryffindor had won …
WHAM。
A Bludger hit Harry squarely in the small of the back and he flew forwards off his broom。 Luckily he was only five or six feet above the ground； having dived so low to catch the Snitch； but he was winded all the same as he landed flat on his back on the frozen pitch。 He heard Madam Hooch's shrill whistle； an uproar in the stands pounded of catcalls； angry yells and jeering； a thud； then Angelinas frantic voice。
'Are you all right？'
'Course I am；' said Harry grimly； taking her hand and allowing her to pull him to his feet。 Madam Hooch was zooming towards one of the Slytherin players above him； though he could not see who it was from this angle。
'It was that thug Crabbe；' said Angelina angrily； 'he whacked the Bludger at you the moment he saw you'd got the Snitch … but we won； Harry； we won！'
Harry heard a snort from behind him and turned around； still holding the Snitch tightly in his hand： Draco Malfoy had landed close by。 White…faced with fury； he was still managing to sneer。
'Saved Weasley's neck； haven't you？' he said to Harry。 'I've never seen a worse Keeper： but then he was born in a bin： did you like my lyrics； Potter？'
Harry didn't answer。 He turned away to meet the rest of the team who were now landing one by one； yelling and punching the air in triumph； all except Ron； who had dismounted from his broom over by the goalposts and seemed to be making his way slowly back to the changing rooms alone。
'We wanted to write another couple of verses！' Malfoy called； as Katie and Alicia hugged Harry。 'But we couldn't find rhymes for fat and ugly … we wanted to sing about his mother； see …'
Talk about sour grapes；' said Angelina； casting Malfoy a disgusted look。
'… we couldn't fit in useless loser either … for his father； you know …'
Fred and George had realised what Malfoy was talking about。 Halfway through shaking Harry's hand； they stiffened； looking round at Malfoy。
'Leave it！' said Angelina at once； taking Fred by the arm。 'Leave it； Fred； let him yell； he's just sore he lost； the jumped…up little …'
'… but you like the Weasleys； don't you； Potter？' said Malfoy； sneering。 'Spend holidays there and everything； don't you？ Can't see how you stand the stink； but I suppose when you've been dragged up by Muggles； even the Weasleys' hovel smells OK …'
Harry grabbed hold of George。 Meanwhile； it was taking the bined efforts of Angelina； Alicia and Katie to stop Fred leaping on Malfoy； who was laughing openly。 Harry looked around for
Madam Hooch； but she was still berating Crabbe for his illegal Sludger attack。
'Or perhaps；' said Malfoy； leering as he backed away； 'you can remember what your mother's house stank like； Potter； and Weasleys pigsty reminds you of it …'
Harry was not aware of releasing George； all he knew was that a second later both of them were sprinting towards Malfoy。 He had pletely forgotten that all the teachers were watching： all he wanted to do was cause Malfoy as much pain as possible； with no time to draw out his wand； he merely drew back the fist clutching the Snitch and sank it as hard as he could into Malfoys stomach …
'Harry！ HARRY！ GEORGE！ NO！'
He could hear girls' voices screaming； Malfoy yelling； George swearing； a whistle blowing and the bellowing of the crowd around him； but he did not care。 Not until somebody in the vicinity yelled 'Impedimenta！' and he was knocked over backwards by the force of the spell； did he abandon the attempt to punch every inch of Malfoy he could reach。
'What do you think you're doing？' screamed Madam Hooch； as Harry leapt to his feet。 It seemed to have been her who had hit him with the Impediment Jinx； she was holding her whistle in one hand and a wand in the other； her broom lay abandoned several feet away。 Malfoy was curled up on the ground； whimper