This was turning into the game that would never end.  The world record for the longest Quidditch match ever was about three months, at which point the Captains agreed to end the match without the Snitch having ever been caught.  Pete wondered just how long Hooch would allow this match to go on.  This wasn’t the British Irish League, it was Hogwarts, and he just couldn’t imagine the professors allowing students to miss three months of classes in the name of Quidditch.  Although . . . it would be a little brilliant, he had to admit.  

Realistically, however, Gryffindor needed the Snitch.  They needed to get it and finish this match before more players began to get hurt.  Tired fliers were more likely to make mistakes and be injured.  A match that was ended without a Snitch catch, well that wouldn’t help his team’s standings in the race for the Quidditch Cup.  

Pete struck a Bludger hard, with both hands on the bat, sending it careening towards Skrumpkin.  Pete nearly fell off his broom in the process and when he’d righted himself, he flew over around Hooch and called a time out.  

Huddling his team mates up together on the pitch, he explained his plan.  “We have got to finish this,” he said.  His voice at a normal volume was so hoarse he wondered that they could understand him at all.  “Amber,” he said, I need you to keep on close with our Chasers.  The way Sioni and Lindsay have been riding them close up, I need you in there as a shield.  Caitlin, I’m pulling you off the Quaffle and from now on you’re going to help Millie.  I know you can do this, Millie, but this fog is a beast and you need another set of eyes.  Use Caitlin.  Tell her what you need.  Communicate. Caitlin, if you see it, chase that bloody little Snitch until she can get it so it’s not lost.  When Dunway is after it, you trip her up, do what you have to do. Got it?”