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"Friends, don't make me laugh," said Lavender scornfully. "She didn't talk to him for weeks after he started going out with me! But I suppose she wants to make up with him now he's all interesting. ..." "Would you call getting poisoned being interesting." asked Harry. "Anyway — sorry, got to go — there's McLaggen coming for a talk about Quidditch," said Harry hurriedly, and he dashed sideways through a door pretending to be solid wall and sprinted down the shortcut that would take him off to Potions where, thankfully, neither Lavender nor McLaggen could follow him.
On the morning of the Quidditch match against Hufflepuff, Harry dropped in on the hospital wing before heading down to the pitch. Ron was very agitated; Madam Pomfrey would not let him go down to watch the match, feeling it would overexcite him.
"So how's McLaggen shaping up." he asked Harry nervously, apparently forgetting that he had already asked the same question twice.
"I've told you," said Harry patiently, "he could be world-class and I wouldn't want to keep him. He keeps trying to tell everyone what to do, he thinks he could play every position better than the rest of us. I can't wait to be shot of him. And speaking of getting shot of people," Harry added, getting to his feet and picking up his Firebolt, "will you stop pretending to be asleep when Lavender comes to see you. She's driving me mad as well." "Oh," said Ron, looking sheepish. "Yeah. All right." "If you don't want to go out with her anymore, just tell her," said Harry.
"Yeah . . . well. . . it's not that easy, is it." said Ron. He paused. "Hermione going to look in before the match." he added casually.
"No, she's already gone down to the pitch with Ginny." "Oh," said Ron, looking rather glum. "Right. Well, good luck. Hope you hammer McLag — I mean, Smith." "I'll try," said Harry, shouldering his broom. "See you after the match." He hurried down through the deserted corridors; the whole school was outside, either already seated in the stadium or heading down toward it. He was looking out of the windows he passed, trying to gauge how much wind they were facing, when a noise ahead made him glance up and he saw Malfoy walking toward him, accompanied by two girls, both of whom looked sulky and resentful.
Malfoy stopped short at the sight of Harry, then gave a short, humorless laugh and continued walking.
"Where're you going." Harry demanded.
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