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'You know what these remind me of？'
'No； what's that？'
The Death Eaters' scars。 Voldemort touches one of them； and all their scars burn； and they know they've got to join him。'
'Well： yes；' said Hermione quietly； 'that is where I got the idea
。 but you'll notice I decided to engrave the date on bits of metal rather than on our members' skin。'
'Yeah： I prefer your way；' said Harry； grinning； as he slipped his Galleon into his pocket。 'I suppose the only danger with these is that we might accidentally spend them。'
'Fat chance；' said Ron； who was examining his own fake Galleon with a slightly mournful air； 'I haven't got any real Galleons to confuse it with。'
As the first Quidditch match of the season； Gryffindor versus Slytherin； drew nearer； their DA meetings were put on hold because Angelina insisted on almost daily practices。 The fact that the Quidditch Cup had not been held for so long added considerably to the interest and excitement surrounding the forthing game； the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were taking a lively interest in the oute； for they； of course； would be playing both teams over the ing year； and the Heads of House of the peting teams； though they attempted to disguise it under a decent pretence of sportsmanship； were determined to see their own side victorious。 Harry realised how much Professor McGonagall cared about beating Slytherin when she abstained from giving them homework in the week leading up to the match。
'I think you've got enough to be getting on with at the moment；' she said loftily。 Nobody could quite believe their ears until she looked directly at Harry and Ron and said grimly； 'I've bee accustomed to seeing the Quidditch Cup in my study； boys； and I really don't want to have to hand it over to Professor Snape； so use the extra time to practise； won't you？'
Snape was no less obviously partisan； he had booked the Quidditch pitch for Slytherin practice so often that the Gryffindors had difficulty getting on it to play。 He was also turning a deaf ear to the many reports of Slytherin attempts to hex Gryffindor players in the corridors。 When Alicia Spinnet turned up in the hospital wing with her eyebrows growing so thick and fast they obscured her vision and obstructed her mouth； Snape insisted that she must have attempted a Hair…thickening Charm on herself and refused to listen to the fourteen eye…witnesses who insisted they had seen the Slytherin Keeper； Miles Bletchley； hit her from behind with a jinx while she worked in the library。
Harry felt optimistic about Gryffindor's chances； they had； after all； never lost to Malfoy's team。 Admittedly； Ron was still not performing to Wood's standard； but he was working extremely hard to improve。 His greatest weakness was a tendency to lose confidence after he'd made a blunder； if he let in one goal he became flustered and was therefore likely to miss more。 On the other hand； Harry had seen Ron make some truly spectacular saves when he was on form； during one memorable practice he had hung one…handed from his broom and kicked the Quaffle so hard away from the goalhoop that it soared the length of the pitch and through the centre hoop at the other end； the rest of the team felt this save pared favourably with one made recently by Barry Ryan； the Irish International Keeper； against Poland's top Chaser； Ladislaw Zamojski。 Even Fred had said that Ron might yet make him and George proud； and that they were seriously considering admitting he was related to them； something they assured him they had been trying to deny for four years。
The only thing really worrying Harry was how much Ron was allowing the tactics of the Slytherin team to upset him before they even got on to the pitch。 Harry； of course； had endured their snide ments for over four years； so whispers of； 'Hey； Potty； I heard Warrington's sworn to knock you off your broom on Saturday'； far from chilling his blood； made him laugh。 'Warrington's aim's so pathetic I'd be more worried if he was aiming for the person next to me；' he retorted； which made Ron and Hermione laugh and wiped the smirk off Pansy Parkinsons face。
But Ron had never endured a relentless campaign of insults； jeers and intimidation。 When Slytherins； some of them seventh…years and considerably larger than he was； muttered as they passed in the corridors； 'Got your bed booked in the hospital wing； Weasley？' he didn't laugh； but turned a delicate shade of green。 When Draco Malfoy imitated Ron dropping the Quaffle （which he did whenever they came within sight of each other）； Ron's ears glowed red and his hands shook so badly that he was likely to drop whatever he was holding at the time； too。
October extinguished itself in a rush of howling winds and driving rain and November arrived； cold as frozen iron； with hard irosts every morning and icy draughts that bit at exposed hands and faces。 The skies and the ceiling of the Great Hall turned a pale； pearly grey； the mountains around Hogwarts were snowcapped； and the temperature in the castle dropped so low that many students wore their thick protective dragonskin gloves in the corridors between lessons。
The morning of the match dawned bright and cold。 When Harry awoke he looked round at Ron's bed and saw him sitting bolt upright； his arms around his knees； staring fixedly into space。
'You all right？' said Harry。
Ron nodded but did not speak。 Harry was reminded forcibly of the time Ron had accidentally put a Slug…vomiting Charm on himself； he looked just as pale and sweaty as he had done then； not to mention as reluctant to open his mouth。
'You just need some breakfast；' Harry said bracingly。 'C'mon。'
The Great Hall was filling up fast when they arrived； the talk louder and the mood more exuberant than usual。 As they passed the Slytherin table there was an upsurge of noise。 Harry looked round and saw that； in addition to the usual green and silver scarves and hats； every one of them was wearing a silver badge in the shape of what seemed to be a crown。 For some reason many of them waved at Ron； laughing uproariously。 Harry tried to see what was written on the badges as he walked by； but he was too concerned to get Ron past their table quickly to linger long enough to read them。
They received a rousing wele at the Gryffindor table； where everyone was wearing red and gold； but far from raising Ron's spirits the cheers seemed to sap the last of his morale； he collapsed on to the nearest bench looking as though he were facing his final meal。
'I must've been mental to do this；' he said in a croaky whisper。 'Mental。'
'Don't be thick；' said Harry firmly； passing him a choice of cereals； 'you're going to be fine。 It's normal to be nervous。'
'I'm rubbish；' croaked Ron。 'I'm lousy。 I can't play to save my life。 What was I thinking？'
'Get a grip；' said Harry sternly。 'Look at that save you made with your foot the other day； even Fred and George said it was brilliant。'
Ron turned a tortured face to Harry。
That was an accident；' he whispered miserably。 'I didn't mean to do it … I slipped off my broom when none of you were looking and when I was trying to