Saturday morning dawned bright and clear - perfect Quidditch weather according to Ron, although Ginny said she preferred an overcast sky because it prevented her from being blinded by the sun. Harry didn’t care what the weather was like, as long as he got to fly. As he walked down the staircase to the Great Hall for breakfast, however, he could feel a hard knot starting to form in his stomach. By the time he arrived, his anxiety had grown to the point that it had begun to overcome his excitement.
“All right there, Harry?” Hermione asked as he dropped into his seat. Her voice was full of concern, and Harry realized that he probably looked as bad as he felt.
“Fine,” he squeaked in reply, and immediately winced at the strain in his voice. He took one look at the food piled high on the table in front of him, and nearly retched.
“Nervous?” Ron asked, grinning openly at his friend’s anxiety.
“W-what makes you say that?” Harry asked in the same strained voice.
“Well, you do look a little green, mate,” Ron responded, elbowing him lightly in the ribs.
“Lay off before he gets sick all over the table, Ron,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes. “Just because I told you he’s decided to quit brooding, that doesn’t mean you have to start teasing him the first chance you get. Besides, it’s not as if you were any less nervous before your own first Quidditch match.”
“This isn’t Harry’s first match,” Ron retorted.
“It might as well be,” Hermione shot back.
“Okay, okay,” Ron laughed, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “No need to gang up on me. Seriously though, Harry; you really ought to at least eat some toast or something.”
“We wouldn’t want you passing out on your broom or anything,” Ginny added with a wink.
The hard knot in Harry’s stomach loosened a little, and he managed to eat a slice of toast and drink a bit of pumpkin juice before heading down to the pitch with the rest of the Gryffindor team. They all quickly changed into their Quidditch robes before gathering to listen to Ron’s pre-game speech.
“Alright,” he began. “This is as strong a team as Gryffindor’s ever had. With Harry back and Ginny at Chaser, there’s no way Slytherin can compete with us. Just stay focused and remember what we practiced. Peakes, Coote, keep those Bludgers away from our team. Everybody, watch out for cheap shots, because you know they’re coming. And Harry-” he paused to grin at his nervous friend, “-catch that bloody Snitch. We all know what we can do, so let’s just get out there and do it.”
With a rousing shout, the Gryffindors grabbed up their brooms and rushed out of the changing rooms and out onto the pitch as their names were announced. Ron shook hands with Urquhart, the Slytherin captain, and then both teams took to the sky. Harry and Malfoy, the two Seekers, hovered high above the other players, their eyes already scanning the pitch for any hint of gold as Madam Hooch prepared to release the Bludgers and the Quaffle.
“Ready to fall off your broom again, Potter?” Malfoy called out.
Harry knew that Malfoy was just trying to get under his skin, so he did his best to ignore the Slytherin’s taunts. Still, the idea that he might fall off his broom again was more than a bit frightening.
When Harry didn’t answer, Malfoy smirked and continued, “Yes, I heard they’ve already got a bed waiting for you in the hospital wing - not that it’ll do you any good if we’re lucky enough to have you break your neck.”
“The Quaffle’s up and in play,” rang out the voice of the commentator. Harry glanced toward the commentator’s podium to see a stringy-looking boy with a green and silver Slytherin House scarf being supervised very closely by a tight-lipped Professor McGonagall. “Vaisey takes it for Slytherin, passes to Harper, across to Urquhart, back to Harp- and it’s intercepted by Robins of Gryffindor.”
Harry let out a little whoop of delight as Demelza Robins streaked toward the Slytherin end of the pitch. He watched in awe for a moment as the Gryffindor Chasers worked together seamlessly, never holding onto the Quaffle for more than a second before passing it on.
“Robins passes to Weasley, passes to Thomas, back to Weasley, rolls to avoid a well-hit Bludger, passes back over to Thomas - he shoots, and-” Loud groans echoed through most of the stadium, and Harry knew that Dean’s shot had been blocked even before the announcer shouted, “Superb fingertip save by Zabini!”
Harry cursed under his breath as he continued circling the stadium in search of the Golden Snitch. His eyes flew over the crowd and the grass far below, hoping against hope that he would find it soon. He had heard enough stories about the Slytherins’ dirty tactics to know that it would be best to end the game as quickly as possible. He distantly heard the cheers and groans of the spectators as the match progressed below him, but he paid them no mind; he had to find that Snitch.
“Having fun, Potter?” Malfoy asked in a condescending voice as he flew up alongside Harry. “You missed seeing the weasel flailing about and nearly falling off his broom when we scored our last goal.”
Harry glanced quickly at the scoreboard, which showed GRYFFINDOR 30, SLYTHERIN 40.
“And Thomas has stolen it for Gryffindor, although I still say that should have been a penalty!” rang out the commentator’s voice.
“Nott!” shouted McGonagall. “Keep your personal opinions to yourself!”
Nott didn’t bother apologizing as he continued, “Thomas to Robins, up to Weasley. She goes for the left hoop, Zabini’s there, and- It’s a fake! Weasley puts the Quaffle through the center hoop and ties it up at forty.”
“Good job, Ginny!” Harry shouted.
“Yes, you would cheer on the blood-traitor,” Malfoy sneered.
“Why don’t you go look for the Snitch, instead of just following me around?” Harry snapped back.
“Because I rather enjoy doing this!” Malfoy jerked his broom sideways so that his outstretched elbow collided violently with Harry’s ribs. Harry shoved him away angrily, but Malfoy came back for more. Instinctively, Harry rolled underneath him this time, allowing Malfoy to sail right over the top of him.
“You’ll have to do better than that,” he taunted before putting on a burst of speed to separate himself from the Slytherin Seeker. As he circled the pitch at high speed, his eyes continued their relentless search for the Snitch. It was ridiculous that such a distinctive little ball could hide inside the field of play for such a long time.
On his fourth circuit around the pitch, he spotted it. The sunlight reflected off of the tiny golden ball as it hovered a few feet above the Slytherin Keeper’s head. Harry flattened himself against the handle of his Firebolt and streaked toward it, heedless of both Nott’s frantic commentary and the screaming of the spectators. He was coming closer... closer... almost there....
Zabini, the Slytherin Keeper, looked up to see a red and gold blur heading straight for him. Raising his gaze even higher, he spotted the Golden Snitch directly above his head and shot upward toward it.
“Zabini’s moving to block Potter!” Nott exclaimed. “That’s a gutsy move by the Slytherin Keeper. Come on, Draco! Where are you?” Malfoy was, in fact, far behind Harry, his Nimbus no match for Harry’s Firebolt.
Harry continued to streak toward Zabini, who was now between him and the Snitch, fervently hoping that the Slytherin would lose his nerve and move out of the way. Seconds before impact, a Bludger streaked into Harry’s field of vision from the right and collided squarely with Zabini’s side, knocking him out of Harry’s path. A fraction of a second later, Ginny scored one final goal before Harry rose into the air with the struggling Snitch clutched triumphantly in his fingers, while Zabini rubbed his sore ribs.
“Weasley, look out!” Nott shouted with his magically amplified voice. Ron and Ginny both wheeled around, but it was too late; Malfoy rammed into Ginny’s side at top speed, knocking her off her broom and sending her plummeting toward the ground with a terrified scream.
Harry flattened himself against his broom, urging it to go faster as he streaked toward Ginny’s falling body. She was too close to the ground and moving too fast; there was no way he could catch up with her, not even on a Firebolt. Without bothering to think about the consequences, he took one hand off of his broomstick, pointed it at her, and shouted, “Accio!”
The Summoning Charm didn’t work properly - probably because he was panicking - but it did manage to slow Ginny’s fall as Harry frantically urged his broom downward. Five feet above the grass, he scooped her up with one arm while pulling up mightily on the handle of his Firebolt with the other. The broomstick leveled out, and the pair dropped to the ground, exhausted. Harry barely noticed the loud cheering coming from the stands or the rest of the team landing around them.
“You okay, Ginny?” Ron asked before his feet were even on the ground.
“Yeah,” Ginny breathed. Her eyes were still closed as she lay motionless on the grass next to Harry. Slowly turning her head toward him, she opened her eyes and smiled shakily. “Thanks, Harry.” she whispered with a little laugh. “My hero, yet again.” Somehow, Harry managed to hear her despite the roar of the crowd.
“I was so scared,” he whispered back, oblivious to everything going on around him.
“Harry!” Ron clapped his hands an inch in front of Harry’s nose, jerking him back to reality. “That’s better. If you’re both all right, then come on; there’s a victory celebration up in the common room.”
Harry nodded mutely, still shaken after Ginny’s fall, and got to his feet. He offered Ginny his hand to help her up, and she gladly accepted it. Neither of them let go until they reached the portrait hole.
“Did anybody hear what happened to Malfoy after the match?” Harry asked his friends on Tuesday morning at breakfast. The match had been on Saturday, but he had yet to hear anything about the Slytherin Seeker’s punishment.
“Actually, I did finally hear something,” Hermione piped up.
“Well?” Harry asked impatiently when she didn’t immediately elaborate.
Hermione leaned forward across the table, prompting Harry, Ron, and Ginny to do the same. “First, McGonagall gave Nott ten points for trying to warn Ginny, even though he was too late. Then, when she caught up with Malfoy, she took fifty points from Slytherin and gave him a week’s worth of detentions,” she whispered excitedly. “With Filch!”
Ron and Ginny both snickered, but Harry just stared blankly at Hermione. “That’s it?” he demanded. “Points and detention? He could’ve killed Ginny. She probably wouldn’t even be here right now if I wasn’t able to-” He stopped, suddenly aware that he had already said too much. The feeling of dread that he had been fighting against ever since the match began welling up inside him as he thought about how close he had come to losing Ginny forever, and he stood up abruptly.
“I’d better get going,” he said stiffly as he strained to keep his voice steady. “Don’t want to be late for Hagrid’s class.” Without waiting for a response, he grabbed his bag and practically ran from the Great Hall. He was about halfway to Hagrid’s hut when Ginny caught up with him.
“Hey,” she panted, laying a hand lightly on his arm. Harry stopped and turned to look at her. Ginny’s cheeks were flushed and she was breathing heavily; she had probably run all the way from the castle. “You okay?” she asked quietly.
Harry nodded, and immediately began blinking rapidly to avoid needing to wipe his eyes. “I just don’t like to think about what might’ve happened,” he replied in a very subdued voice.
Ginny laughed out loud, shaking her head in exasperated amusement. “Is that why you’ve been so tense lately? Sometimes I forget how much you still don’t know.”
“What are you talking about?” Harry snapped sullenly.
Ginny forced herself to stop laughing and looked him in the eye. “Harry, nobody’s making a big deal about my fall because it’s really not that big a deal. Oh, I might’ve broken a couple of bones or even gotten knocked out, but I wasn’t high enough for a fall to be really dangerous. I guess I just assumed you knew that.”
Harry stared at her incredulously. “You mean I didn’t need to...?”
Ginny shook her head. “That doesn’t mean I’m not grateful and everything. I mean, I might not have been in danger of dying, but you did save me from a fair amount of pain and a hospital stay.”
“But you were falling so fast.”
Ginny smiled fondly at him. “Still thinking like a Muggle, aren’t you? Witches and Wizards are harder to injure than Muggles are, remember?”
A memory flashed into Harry’s mind of the matron at St. Brutus’s telling him he was made of ‘tougher stuff’ than other people, and he smiled sheepishly. “Sorry for freaking out on you,” he muttered.
“Just quit worrying about it, okay?” she replied, waving away his apology. “I’m perfectly fine, and there’s absolutely nothing to worry about except for whether or not Hagrid’s lesson will try to eat us alive. Now, you might’ve forgotten, but we actually have a free period right now - Hagrid’s class doesn’t start for another hour and a half.”
Harry shook his head wearily as he replied, “I know; I just felt like I needed to get out of there, and class was the first excuse I came up with.”
“So, what do you actually plan on doing?” Ginny asked.
Harry just shrugged. “I dunno. Any ideas?”
“Well,” Ginny began hesitantly, “it might be a good idea for you to practice-” she stopped talking long enough to look around and make sure no one could overhear her before lowering her voice to a whisper and finishing, “-doing magic without a wand. I mean, it’s already proved really useful, right?”
Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I’d forgotten with everything that’s been going on, but Dumbledore actually sent me a letter saying he wanted me to start practicing.” He gently took Ginny’s elbow and began leading her back toward the castle. “That was before our detention, though, so you know I wasn’t really in the mood to listen to anybody or do anything.”
Ginny gave a little laugh before asking, “Where do you want to go to practice?”
“I’m not sure,” Harry answered, furrowing his brow in thought. “An empty classroom, maybe.”
“What about the Room of Requirement?” Ginny suggested.
“The room of what?” Harry asked.
“The Room of Requirement,” Ginny repeated. “You know, where we had the D.A. meetings in your fifth year. We told you all about it over the summer.”
Now Harry thought about it, he did remember Ron, Hermione, and Ginny telling him about a room that would change to suit the needs of the person using it. “Okay, I think I remember what you’re talking about,” he said. “You do realize that you lot told me about five years of my life during the course of one day, right? I’m bound to forget some of the details.”
“Alright, I’ll give you that,” Ginny said with a sideways grin as they began climbing the stone staircase.
Five minutes later, they were in the Room of Requirement, which was empty except for a padded floor and an enormous pile of pillows.
Ginny gave Harry a confused look. “What were you thinking about when you made the room appear?”
“Having a magical pillow fight,” he replied with a smirk. Ginny’s eyes widened in comprehension, and she barely had time to dive out of the way as Harry Summoned a pillow and immediately Banished it at her. A second later, her wand was out and an all-out pillow war was underway.
“Abigo!” Harry shouted, throwing both hands forward and Banishing two pillows at Ginny simultaneously.
She dove to her right, rolling over once on the soft floor before springing back to her feet as she shouted, “No fair; I can only use one hand!”
“It was your idea for me to practice not using a wand,” Harry laughed before deflecting a pillow with a hastily-cast Shield Charm.
After twenty minutes of trying to dodge each other’s magically hurled pillows, Harry and Ginny were both out of breath from too much running and laughing. Ginny leaned forward, resting her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath.
“Enjoying yourself, Potter?” she asked with a wide grin as she Levitated a pillow high above him.
“Well, this is pretty fun,” Harry chuckled.
Without warning, Ginny pointed her wand at him and shouted, “Aguamenti!” A jet of water hit him, drenching his face and hair, as well as the front of his robes.
“Gi-” Harry’s playfully indignant yell was cut short when he heard Ginny shout her next spell.
“Diffindo!”
Instinctively, Harry cast a Shield Charm to deflect the Severing Charm even as his mind screamed that something was very wrong - Ginny would never try to hit him with that sort of spell.
The Shield Charm turned out to be unnecessary as the light from Ginny’s spell sailed high over his head. For a moment, he thought she had merely been trying to scare him, but then he felt the first feathers begin landing on him and sticking to his wet body.
“You devious little...” Harry laughed as he realized that the Severing Charm had sliced open the pillow Ginny had been Levitating over his head. A moment later, the pillow fight became a water fight.
When it was finally time to leave for Care of Magical Creatures, they were both drenched, covered in feathers, and laughing happily. After drying themselves off and removing the feathers from their clothes and hair, they set off for the front doors of the castle. They walked in relative silence, but every so often one of them would glance at the other and find it impossible to suppress a giggle.
As they came to the back of Hagrid’s hut, they found the half-giant standing next to what looked like a potbellied pig with large horns that curled into spirals on either side of its head. It looked so ridiculous that Harry and Ginny took one look at it, glanced at each other, and burst into a fresh fit of laughter.
“An’ a good mornin’ ter you, too,” boomed Hagrid, trying to sound offended as he looked up from the animal and smiled at them.
“Sorry, Hagrid,” Harry apologized, although he was still grinning at the sight of the strange creature. “Your, er, friend there just looks a little....”
“‘S okay. Say, Harry, I was wonderin’....” Hagrid sounded a bit nervous all of a sudden.
“What is it, Hagrid?” Harry asked, crossing his fingers and silently hoping that he wasn’t about to be invited to help care for one of his large friend’s extremely dangerous pets.
“Were you plannin’ ter go ter the Burrow fer Christmas?” Hagrid asked quickly.
“I- er-” Harry stammered. He actually had been planning on it, but he hadn’t exactly been invited, and he didn’t feel right imposing on the Weasleys if they wanted to spend the holiday with just their family.
“Of course he is,” Ginny answered for him. She gave Harry a sharp glare as if to make sure he understood that he had no say in the matter. “Why do you ask, Hagrid?”
Hagrid looked even more nervous as he averted his eyes and mumbled, “Jus’ wanted ter know where ter take Harry’s present, tha’s all. Bin workin’ on somethin’ extra special this year, an’ I’ve almos’ finished.” He winked at Harry and added, “I think yeh’ll like it.”
Hagrid opened his mouth to say something else, but a gasp from behind Harry and Ginny caused him to stop short.
“Hagrid!” shrieked a surprised voice that Harry didn’t recognize. He spun around to see Luna Lovegood standing next to Colin Creevey, who was watching her curiously as she gaped at Hagrid’s newest creature. It took a moment for Harry to realize that the voice had belonged to Luna, and the reason it had sounded so unfamiliar was the simple fact that people like Luna Lovegood just didn’t shriek.
“Where did you find one?” Luna asked after a moment. Her voice had regained its usual dreamy quality, although it was also laced with a bit of awe.
“Caught ‘im in Sweden over the summer, an’ I been savin’ ‘im fer the righ’ momen’,” Hagrid said proudly. “O’ course, there was loads of ‘em there, but you’d be surprised ‘ow hard it is to get close enough ter even see one, much less actually catch one.”
“How’d you manage it, Hagrid?” Harry asked curiously, as he took a step closer to the ridiculous-looking creature.
“Ah, well... tha’s a secret, that is,” Hagrid said mysteriously.
“What is it, Hagrid?” Colin asked excitedly.
“Well, I guess since the whole class is ‘ere, we can go ahead an’ get started,” Hagrid said brightly. “Luna, could you tell us what sort o’ creature this li’l fella is?”
“He’s a Crumple-Horned Snorkack,” Luna said simply. Hagrid beamed at her and awarded five points to Ravenclaw.
Harry turned toward Ginny, expecting a sarcastic comment, but froze when he saw the look of utter shock on her suddenly pale face.
“They- they’re real?” she asked, wide-eyed.
“Well o’ course they’re real,” Hagrid answered. “Quibbler talks about ‘em all the time, dun’ it? Now, the important thing ter remember with Snorkacks is tha’ yeh’ve gotta keep ‘em calm. They’re righ’ destructive when they get riled up, so don’ go upsettin’ ‘im.”
“Destructive,” Harry muttered. “Why am I not surprised?”
Ginny hid a smile as Hagrid began explaining how to properly care for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. The depth of his knowledge was astounding; not even Luna, who spent a great deal of her time reading about Snorkacks in her father’s magazine, knew as much about them as Hagrid did.
After class ended and Hagrid assigned them a foot-long essay on how to care for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, Ginny called out, “Hey, Colin! Do you have your camera with you?”
Colin shook his head. “I haven’t really carried it around since first year. Did you want a picture of something?”
“Yeah,” said Ginny. “Would you mind Summoning it?” While Colin complied with her request, she told the rest of the group, including Hagrid, “Nobody tell Hermione what we studied today, alright? I’ve got a great idea.” The way her eyes twinkled as she spoke reminded Harry irresistibly of the look the twins got whenever they were planning a particularly satisfying prank.