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Saturday morning dawned bright and crisp. The November weather had turned cold and dreary, but this day was going to be gorgeous. It was cold, but wonderfully sunny. The weather seemed to match Harry’s mood. He, while feeling that his newfound ability was certainly a bit creepy, was also thrilled that he now had a tangible weapon to fight with. He had had two more lessons”one with Remus, and one with Tonks”both of which were creepy, but he was getting stronger and he felt great.
He rose from bed thinking things could not be much better. He had seen Ernie talking on several occasions with Hannah Abbott and thought perhaps he had had a change of heart about Ginny. Ron and Hermione were in great spirits. They only “play argued” now, over things like art and music and even philosophy, which came as a huge surprise to Harry. Who would have believed Ron was into philosophy? he thought.
The first Gryffindor match of the season was today and although he was not going to be playing, he didn’t allow it to dampen his mood any. He could at least be supportive of his friends and he would get to watch some good Quidditch.
He quietly got dressed and walked down to the common room. He had not slept out there since the meeting with Dumbledore on Wednesday. He had stayed up to visit with his cat for a few minutes the first couple of nights, but Friday it did not make an appearance. He thought the cat must have found a new warm body to cuddle with, so he went up to bed and slept well.
He sat by the fire that was blazing in the hearth. No one else was up yet so he just sat there and relaxed. He had almost fallen asleep again when he heard a faint tapping on the window. He walked over and saw an owl he did not recognize. He opened the window and the owl perched itself just inside. It stuck out its leg and Harry removed a small letter. After the owl flew off, he looked at letter for a long while without opening it. It was in a handwriting he did not recognize. The script was very messy, worse even than Hagrid’s, and Harry had no idea who it was from.
Finally, after debating with himself about it for several minutes, he decided to open the letter, thinking if it was another Portkey it would have activated by now anyway. He tore the envelope and removed a small note.
Harry,
I don’t have much time. I have been under the Dark Lord’s control for I don’t know how long. I vaguely remember something happening at the Ministry but can’t remember details. I must have been under the Imperious Curse. I have broken free from it but am unable to escape at this time. I have been able to figure a way to send an owl, though, so I can send you information about the Dark Lord’s activities.
I know that you don’t trust me, but I need you to believe this. I can provide some useful information. There is going to be an attack on the Muggle Prime Minister within the next two weeks. Let whoever is in charge of the Order know but don’t mention me. There may be a spy in the Order working for the Death Eaters. They seem to know a lot of what the Order is doing.
I’m sorry for my attitude towards you and the rest of my family. I have been so wrong!
I will write again when I have more information. If something happens to me, tell my family I love them.
Sincerely, Percy.
Harry reread the note three times. He couldn’t believe what he was reading. Is this really from Percy? Could he have been under the Imperious Curse that day in the Ministry? If so, was the information reliable? His head swam with possibilities and doubts. Harry thought back to seeing Mr. Crouch and how his trying to break the Imperious Curse had affected him. Could that explain the handwriting? Harry wondered.
“Morning, Harry,” Ginny called brightly from the stairs. Harry quickly stuffed the note into his pocket.
“Morning, Ginny, did you sleep well?” Harry inquired.
“Not really,” she remarked, stepping off the last step. Harry noticed she looked very tired and a bit ill.
“Ginny, you look a little green,” he remarked. “You okay?”
“Thanks, Harry, you certainly have a way with women.” Ginny playfully punched his arm, a bit harder than seemed necessary.
“Sorry, just concerned,” he responded, rubbing his arm where she had hit him.
“Ooh, sorry, didn’t mean to get you that hard.” Ginny’s ears turned pink. “So why are you up so early?”
“Couldn’t sleep”I had a lot on my mind,” Harry replied. “You?”
“Isn’t it obvious”it’s Quidditch. I never sleep well on match days.” Ginny seemed annoyed that Harry didn’t realize her distress.
“You’ll be great, Ginny. Nothing to worry about,” Harry encouraged her.
“Easy for you to say,” she retorted with a little grin.
“Say, Ginny, do you know of any first-year girls who brought a cat as a pet?” Harry questioned, changing the subject. Ginny seemed to sit up a little straighter at this point.
“Why do you ask?” she questioned.
“Oh, no reason.” Harry began to brush the subject off but decided he wanted to talk with Ginny about it, although he didn’t know why. “Actually, since the night of the dream a couple months ago I have been staying down here at night a lot.”
“I know,” Ginny responded.
“Oh, right, you knew that. Anyway, this cat started coming down here in the middle of the night and sitting with me. I have yet to find out whose cat it is so I was just curious about it.” Harry continued, “So you haven’t seen an orange cat lately or know a first year who owns one, do you?”
“Actually, I did see Natalie McDonald with a cat at the start of term, but she’s a third year,” Ginny declared. “I think it was orange though.”
“Oh, that must be it then. Do you know her at all?” Harry asked.
“A little, she pretty much hangs out with girls in her year. Why?”
“Well, I just don’t know her at all and I was wondering if you would tell her thanks for the cat for me,” Harry replied shyly.
“Harry, ordinarily, I would tell you to do it yourself but since it is a special occasion, you asking for help and all, and I know that all the third-year girls are in love with you, I’ll tell her. Don’t want any of them getting their hopes up because,” she cleared her throat, “‘Mr. Potter’ talked to them.” Ginny grinned mischievously.
Harry blushed bright pink. “Thanks, Ginny. So you think it’s too early to go to breakfast?”
“No, but I need to get changed, so…Wait for me?” she inquired, getting up from her chair.
“Yeah, I’ll get Ron. He never eats on Quidditch match days, but he can watch while we eat at least.”
They both went up their respective dorm stairs. Harry entered the room quietly, grabbed a piece of parchment and quill, and stuffed the letter from Percy into the back of his Charms book. “Ron, time to get up, mate,” Harry announced once the note was hidden and he was back at the door. Ron stirred for a second and bolted upright.
“It’s Quidditch,” he spoke and immediately turned a deeper shade of green than Ginny had been earlier.
“Yes, it’s Quidditch”get up so we can go to breakfast,” Harry answered, then walked out of the room, sure that Ron would be down shortly.
Harry sat at the table and scribbled a quick note explaining that he had information about a possible attack on the Muggle Prime Minister. He didn’t reveal his source and he prayed no one would press him on it. He thought that the information would be wrong anyway and nothing would come of it. He wondered for a second about the best way to get the note to Professor McGonagall. Finally he touched on a solution.
“Dobby?” Harry whispered.
.Crack. Dobby appeared before him. “Oh, Harry Potter sir is all right. Dobby was so scared when he found Harry Potter lying on the ground at the front gate. Dobby took Harry Potter directly to the hospital wing like a good house-elf so that Harry Potter could be made well.”
“Great, Dobby, thanks for finding”how did you find me?” Harry inquired, narrowing his eyebrows and staring at the little house-elf.
Dobby seemed nervous under Harry’s gaze. “Well, sir, Dobby…erm…likes to take walks during the night to clear his head and get some fresh air.” He shuffled his feet back and forth. “Sir wanted Dobby?”
Harry was not entirely sure he believed him, but also knew that Dobby had never outright lied to him, so he let the question rest and moved on to more pressing matters. “Yes, Dobby, I need you to take this note to the Headmistress.” Harry handed the note to him.
“Is sir wanting a reply?”
“No, Dobby, just see that this note is delivered as soon as possible.”
“Yes, sir.”
Crack. Dobby was gone. Harry sat back in his chair, glad that he had done all he could with Percy’s letter. Now he had to just wait and see what happened. He decided to file Dobby’s nightly stroll away for further discussion but he didn’t want to dwell on it at the moment. It’s Quidditch, after all.
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The Great Hall was a festive place this Saturday morning. The house ghosts were present for the first time all year. Harry hadn’t even realized they had not been around until he saw them there.
“Sir Nicholas, where have you all been?” Neville asked as Harry sat down with Ginny, Ron and Hermione.
“Oh, that is a sad affair. We house ghosts decided to honor the Headmaster by standing watch over his tomb, so we have been there these past months. The Baron decided today would be the last day, so here we are,” Sir Nicholas declared. “Even Peeves was there, and he even behaved himself.”
The conversation soon turned to who was going to win the Quidditch match. Gryffindor was the favorite, although there was speculation that they would be in trouble since they’d lost Harry as Seeker and Ginny”who was taking his place”as Chaser. The consensus, however, was that this would not be a problem against Ravenclaw, whose team had been decimated because so many of their players had not been allowed to return to school.
Around a quarter past eight, the owl post arrived. Harry didn’t even bother to notice anymore, since he never received mail.
A small barn owl winged its way in with a new copy of the Daily Prophet, and landed directly in Hermione’s bowl of porridge. “That silly owl gets my breakfast every time,” she fumed as she put five Knuts into the owl’s little sack. “All the other ones manage to land someplace safe, but that one”always right into the bowl.”
Ron was blowing bubbles into his orange juice, trying not to laugh, as Harry quickly turned to talk to Neville. Ginny giggled as she went back to her own bowl.
After a couple of minutes, Ron called the rest of the Gryffindor team up, to get to the field. He leaned down and gave Hermione a quick kiss and left. Harry was slightly embarrassed over the display of affection but had to admit it could have been a lot worse. His thoughts wandered to when Ron and Lavender were together. It could have been much, much worse.
“Harry, did you see this?” Hermione whispered, holding the Daily Prophet out to him.
“Of course not, Hermione, you are the only one who reads the Prophet,” Harry responded, taking the paper. He found the article on the bottom of the front page.
HOGWARTS MATCH
Quinton White, the new manager of the England National Quidditch team, will be attending a match today at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The speculation is that he is scouting new talent for the upcoming World Cup Tournament to take place next year. Harry Potter”the Chosen One, as some have referred to him”will not be participating on his house team this year, according to sources close to the school. This begs the question: are there other talented students at Hogwarts who have been overshadowed by the Boy Who Lived, and only now are going to be discovered? Who is Coach White looking to find?
Story continued on page 6.
Harry folded the paper and handed it back to Hermione. He had mixed feelings about the whole thing. He was glad that someone from the school was being scouted by the English National Team, although skeptical about the chances of anyone making the team at such a young age. He was also bothered that in a story only vaguely related to Hogwarts, the paper still managed to get him into the middle of it.
“So, what do you think about Mr. White being here?” Hermione questioned, her excitement evident.
“Who, the new coach? I don’t know, I guess it’s interesting. Why does that name sound familiar?” Harry remarked, more to himself than to Hermione.
“That is the father of the girl we met at Bill and Fleur’s wedding. He’s the one from America,” Hermione explained, nearly bouncing off her seat with joy.
Harry noted that Hermione looked like she was about to burst so he gave in and asked, “Hermione, what has got you so wound up?”
“Oh, Harry, it’s incredible, but I didn’t want to say anything while Ron was here.” She leaned over towards him so that no one else could hear. “It just that, well, Jenny and I”that’s Mr. White’s daughter”have been Owling each other some during the school year. She wants to know about England, and the States are just fascinating.” Harry rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah, sorry, well she Owled me a week ago and said her dad had been named the Quidditch coach for England and he was going to try and catch the game this week to scout Ron.” She was beaming by this time and Harry was somewhat concerned that her face was going to split in two.
Harry found himself extremely pleased that Ron was being noticed for his accomplishments on the Quidditch Pitch, even if he was a little jealous that he was not the one being scouted. “Hermione, that’s great news. It’s a good thing you didn’t tell Ron, though”he would have played terribly today if he knew someone was scouting him.”
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Harry and Hermione made their way down to the Gryffindor section to watch the match. They were both wrapped in thick wool cloaks to hold off the chill. The teams were announced and Harry watched, sadness mixed with pride, as his best friend stepped out to shake the Ravenclaw captain’s hand.
He quickly scanned the stands and recognized, sitting in the professors box, the middle-aged wizard he’d spoken with at the wedding a few months before. He had short cropped hair and a thick goatee, and he wore red and pewter robes. Omnioculars were draped around his neck as he watched the action intently once the match began.
“A wonderful save by Weasley,” the announcer commented.
Harry went back to the match. He noticed that the Ravenclaw Seeker, a little third-year boy, was simply marking Ginny as she circled the pitch. He knew that this kid was no match for her, even with the old broom she was using.
“ROBBINS SCORES!!!”
Harry didn’t recognize the boy doing the announcing but decided he was certainly better than Luna had been.
An hour later, the match continued at a relentless pace. Harry could see that Ginny had spotted the Snitch on at least one occasion, but was unable to reach it before it dashed out of view. He had seen it on two other occasions and was feeling frustrated with himself and the situation. He could have gotten the Snitch, with the scout there, and Ginny could have been playing her normal Chaser position, with the scout there.
Ron, however, was having a splendid day. He had only allowed two goals: one on a penalty shot, the other on a turnover very close to the Gryffindor side of the pitch. He made a valiant effort on that one, but just didn’t have time to react. The rest of the day Ron was perfect.
The score was 170 to 20 and the action was growing intense. Harry saw that the Ravenclaw team raised the level of defense since they knew that one more goal would allow them to catch the Snitch and still lose. The Bludgers were rocketing to and fro over the pitch.
Harry watched the action with great interest. Ron was still a stone wall in goal, making save after save. “Weasley is our King,” chorused through the stands with every save. The Gryffindor Chasers were being pummeled with each possession of the Quaffle. Ginny and the Ravenclaw Seeker continued to search for the Snitch.
Finally, Ginny made a move. She dove towards the ground, angling at the first row of the stands, just left of the Ravenclaw goals. Harry saw the flash of gold fluttering there and thought Ginny had a very good chance of getting the Snitch. She was well ahead of the Ravenclaw Seeker and the Snitch had very little room to maneuver. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw a Bludger screaming at her. It was directly behind her and she could never have seen it.
Harry’s pulse quickened as he watched the Bludger close in on Ginny. “DUCK!” Harry shouted in his mind just before he shouted it with his voice. Ginny slid off to the right of her broom and dropped her head low just as the Bludger flew past her and crashed into the ground. She reached out and grabbed the Snitch and pulled up just before colliding with the spectators in the first row. The crowed erupted in cheers and applause and Harry distinctly heard someone mutter something about a new song titled, “Weasley is our Queen.”
Harry looked up at Coach White”he seemed to be watching something in his Omnioculars. He had a broad grin on his face and simply shook his head.
The team raced down to meet Ginny, who, Harry had just noticed, was looking straight at him with a bewildered look in her eyes. Nice job, Ginny, Harry thought. He watched as the bewilderment changed to glee as she was then engulfed by her teammates. The celebration was in full swing on the pitch and the Gryffindor section was quickly emptying. Harry got up to leave but was blocked by a slightly overweight man in red and pewter robes.
“What did you think of the match, Mr. Potter?” Mr. White questioned.
“Great win, I thought Ron did really well too,” Harry commented. He wanted to get down to the celebration but he also wanted to see just what England’s new coach thought of his friend.
“Yes he did. I was particularly impressed on Ravenclaw’s second goal.” Harry blinked in confusion. “That would have been a tough save for anyone, but Weasley almost got it. World Class effort, if you catch my meaning,” Mr. White continued.
Harry broke into a large smile and was pleased to note that he did not have the jealous feelings he’d had before the match. He was tremendously proud of his friend.
“Harry, tell me what you think of England’s chances next year,” Mr. White inquired as they both moved towards the exit. By this time the team had gone to the locker room and the crowd was starting to move towards the school.
“Well, in the last World Cup they didn’t do very well. I guess that is why they hired you, right?”
Mr. White grinned. “They hired me because I was one of the few who would take the job. Most of the Quidditch coaches who take over for England end up not being wanted much anywhere else.” A rueful grin played at his lips.
“So why did you take the job then? Didn’t you like coaching in the States?”
“Oh yeah, but they have a coach in place, and I’ve always liked a challenge. The English Quidditch team has a great history but it’s been close to 200 years since they had a good team. I am hoping to change that.
“It won’t be easy, but like I say, if you are going to plow in concrete, don’t expect it be easy.” Mr. White smiled. “That’s where some of the young talent here comes in. I want to get a young team together, one that may take its lumps for a while, but can work together for several years and develop into a World Class unit and lay the foundation for a World Class program again. I was sorry to hear that you had given up Quidditch.”
“Yeah, I had some more important things to do this year.” They had reached the front entrance to the castle.
“Things more important than Quidditch. That’s refreshing to hear from a seventeen year old. I suppose there are, but if you get those things taken care of, let me know. I would love to see you play again.” Mr. White turned to go. Harry watched as he walked down the path, through the gates, and Apparated away. He smiled, thinking again of Ron possibly getting a tryout for the national team. He saw the Gryffindor team approaching, along with Fred and George, carrying a number of bags with them. This is going to be a nice victory party. Hermione’s going to have a cat.
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The victory party was indeed a grand affair. The twins had attempted to smuggle in firewhisky, but Hermione flatly refused. No one seemed to mind, though, once all the food”provided by Dobby”was laid out. Hermione was about to object to this as well, but Fred and George cut her off by forcing five Galleons into Dobby’s pocket.
The stories of the victory went back and forth, everyone enjoying the retelling of this bit or that. Ginny’s near-miraculous move to avoid the Bludger was the topic of much talk and speculation.
“Harry himself wouldn’t have avoided that thing,” Dean shouted, the admiration clearly heard in his voice.
“Yeah, Harry would have let it hit him and then tried to swallow the Snitch again,” retorted Seamus.
The party wound down and the twins finally left, leaving an ample supply of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes catalogs in the common room. Ron and Hermione were nowhere to be seen, and Harry assumed they were off “discussing the match”. Neville and Parvati Patil were sitting on the couch discussing something with great fervor. Harry was drinking a Butterbeer, getting ready to head up to bed after a long, but very good, day. Ginny sauntered over to him before he could move. She had that fierce look in her eyes again.
She had spent most of the evening being pulled around the room to discuss the last move she’d used to avoid the Bludger, and Harry hadn’t had a chance to talk with her at all. Now she walked purposefully over to him. His cheeks started to burn and his heart gave a little leap.
“Nice match today, Ginny,” Harry stuttered. Why in the world am I nervous all of sudden?
“Thanks, Harry, I wish it would have been you out there as Seeker”I would have loved to play Chaser against their Keeper today.” Ginny smiled. She stepped closer to Harry. “You know there isn’t and never was anything going on with Ernie, right?” She grinned again and sat down on the arm of Harry’s chair.
“Yeah, erm, no, I don’t know,” Harry stuttered again. Merlin, she smells good.
“Well, I think he wanted something to happen, but I told him the other day in the classroom you saw us leaving that I wasn’t interested. He took it pretty well,” Ginny explained.
“Oh, so you aren’t interested then? Good.” Has that line of freckles always been there just below her neck?
“Harry, today at the Quidditch match,” she started, “I think I heard you, inside my head.”
Harry was startled out his contemplation of her freckles. “Oh, really, sorry about that. I didn’t know I could even do that…erm, what did you hear?” Harry had gone pale, at the thought of intruding, unwanted, into the mind of his friend. Ginny knew about the connections he had with them all and he had told her about what Dumbledore had said about her helping him the night of the dream.
“Duck, and great job,” Ginny replied. She leaned closer and was just inches from his face.
Harry could now smell the Butterbeer on her breath, mixed with the fresh cut flowers scent. He could feel the burning of his cheeks and noticed that Ginny’s too were a shade or two pinker than normal.
The noise in the room seemed to die away and all Harry could see, hear, or acknowledge was Ginny sitting on the arm of his chair, leaning towards him, only inches from his face.
“And Harry,” she said in a husky voice, barely above a whisper, that caused his heart to skip a beat and his palms to go all sweaty. “I don’t mind you being inside my head.” She leaned even closer, and their noses brushed lightly. Harry’s breathing had stopped, the intoxicating presence of Ginny overwhelming him. “’Night,” she whispered, and slowly walked to the stairs up to the girls’ dorms.
It took Harry a couple of minutes to bring himself back under control. Wow! was all he could think as he sat by the fire watching it burn low. What a good day! He smiled, raised his walls, and relaxed, feeling as contented and happy as he had in months.
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A/N Well there you have it, nothing going on with Ginny and Ernie. I hope all the Ginny/Harry shippers are feeling better. I also hope you enjoyed the Quidditch match. It was fun to write, although, since my wife, and my beta both don’t enjoy the Quidditch, they didn’t enjoy it as much. I loved it.
Major thanks to my pre betas, Kerrbear and Cableguysmom for helping push the story along. I can’t say how much help my beta JenC has been either. If not for her this story would be a wondrous tell, that never left my head. Thanks ladies our hard work means a great deal to me.
Coming next, Harry and Ron, both make some decisions, and Malfoy shows up at the castle for some holiday fun, sort of.