The noise of the storm was even louder in the common room. Harry knew better than to think the match would be canceled; Quidditch matches weren't called off for trifles like thunderstorms. Nevertheless, he was starting to feel very apprehensive. Wood had pointed out Cedric Diggory to him in the corridor; Diggory was a fifth year and a lot bigger than Harry. Seekers were usually light and speedy, but Diggory's weight would be an advantage in this weather because he was less likely to be blown off course.

“Seen your pal Hagrid lately?” he asked them quietly.

What little color there was in Black's face left it.

“I'm so sorry, dear boy,” she said dreamily, “the heat of the day, you know…I drifted off for a moment….”

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