Ginny could feel the hard pounding in her chest as she clutched the red ball and sped to the opposite side of the Quidditch pitch. The wind whipped her hair back and whistled in her ears. Her eyes stung as she fought to keep them open against the force of the wind. Her whole will was focused on throwing the ball through the hoop at the other end of the pitch.
It was moments like this she loved, racing fifty feet in the air, hugging the Quaffle as if it contained life itself, and the beating of her heart drowning out all other sound.
Ron flew in front of the center goal post, looking as determined to stop his little sister from reaching the post as if his life depended it. He spread his arms out, blocking as much of the goal as possible.
“Come on, Ginny! You know you can’t beat your big brother!” he called out as she drew closer.
She flew to the left, raising the Quaffle.
Ron mirrored her movements, protecting the left post.
Perfect.
She smirked as she gathered all her strength and threw the Quaffle through the center hoop.
“Yes, my big, strong, undefeatable brother,” Ginny laughed.
Ron flew to the ground to retrieve the Quaffle. “You got lucky,” he grumbled and threw the ball to Katie.
Ron few back to the center ring, preparing himself for Katie’s attempt.
Ginny felt suddenly strange, like someone was trying to stare holes through her. She tried to shrug it off. It was probably just paranoia. After all, no one was really safe these days.
It was nothing, really. Besides, she should be focusing on the practice right now.
Katie held the ball and began to fly determinedly at the post.
There it was again, that feeling of someone watching her. What was going on? The strangest part was that this feeling was not entirely unfamiliar. She had began to feel it often at Quidditch practices, mealtimes, and in the common room.
WHAM!
Ginny whipped around. Katie dropped the Quaffle just as she was about to throw it.
A Bludger had collided with Harry’s shoulder.
Every member of the team immediately flew to Harry as he clutched his shoulder and lowered himself to the ground.
“Are you okay, Mate?” Ron asked.
“Should I get Madame Pomfrey?” Demelza asked frantically.
“Blimey, I’m so sorry,” Coote said. “I didn’t see it in time.”
“What happened?” Ginny grabbed Harry’s arm and proceeded to gently poke the injured area.
“I’ll be fine,” Harry muttered, though he did not pull his arm away. “I just wasn’t paying enough attention.” Yet, he seemed more annoyed with himself than the situation permitted.
“It’s just a bruise,” Harry said, trying in earnest to get the crowd around him back up in the air.
“A pretty big bruise,” Ginny muttered, still examining his arm.
“Yeah, well, it’s not a big deal,” he replied, finally pulling away. He resumed his captain’s voice. “Up in the air!”
Ginny looked at him.
“What?” he asked.
“How come you weren’t paying attention?” she said, looking at him suspiciously.
“I just…”
“Well, don’t do it again. That’s all we need right now: another injury after we’ve just got the team back together.”
Harry seemed stunned for a moment, but before he could reply, Ginny had already taken off.
Katie took up the Quaffle again and sped toward the hoops.
But there was that feeling again! This was not paranoia. It was not even an…unpleasant feeling. It was like she was being watched by…by someone who cared about her. She was just aggravated because she could not figure out where the feeling was coming from.
Katie threw the Quaffle into the left hoop, but Ron caught it before it fell through. “See? Told you it was only luck, Ginny!”
“You just think whatever you want!” Ginny yelled back.
Curiosity was overcoming her as the feeling intensified. A flash of gold passed by her ear as she turned her head.
Harry was one hundred or so feet up in the air. He should have been roaming the field, searching for the Snitch. But there he was, just…watching.
Yes, he was the captain, and, yes, he should watch and see where his team needed improvement. But this…this was different.
As soon as she turned, Harry quickly looked away and sped off on the pretense of seeing the Snitch.
Right before he turned around, right as their eyes met…Ginny could have sworn she had seen something in his eyes that had never been there before.
There had been countless times she had caught her roommates talking about his “dreamy, beautiful, emerald eyes.” Every time she had heard them swooning over his irises, Ginny had to choke back a laugh. There had been a time when she would have swooned along with them.
No, it was not the “beautiful, dreamy quality of his emerald eyes” that made Ginny stop and stare at Harry’s retreating form.
There was something else. In his eyes was something more like…a deep, strong ardor.
Ginny almost laughed at the absurdity of it. Yeah, right! Harry had totally been looking ardently at her!
She shook herself and turned back to the present, where Demelza was now aiming at the left goal post.
Yet the look with which Harry had given her so intensely right before he turned kept coming back. That look two years ago would have made Ginny fall off her broomstick right then and there. Now she was closer to fall off in shock rather than in utter joy.
Ginny replayed every moment from the past few weeks that involved Harry. Harry hugging her after Gryffindor’s victory against Slytherin and letting go with suspicious brevity, Harry’s blush when she removed the maggot from his hair on Christmas morning…Harry’s Bludger injury.
A small part of her wanted to blush when she thought of all these things and what they could possibly mean. That…perhaps…maybe it wasn’t her imagination…that Harry…liked her…beyond the platonic sense?
Ginny now realized with a jolt all of what she had successfully ignored all that time. Perhaps she didn’t want to believe it, what with Dean and all. But…maybe it was for another reason she didn’t want to think about.
Ginny felt herself smile, feeling an old, familiar flame begin to spark. It was something she hadn’t felt, hadn’t allowed herself to feel, in two years.
But now she let herself smile, let herself hope that she hadn’t been imagining it. She couldn’t have imagined something like that, after it had caught her so much off her guard.
It was so strange that after six years…
Ginny dared steal a glance in the direction of the staring. He was now only about twenty feet above the ground, still looking in her direction. She could feel her pulse quicken through her fingers gripping her broomstick.
She caught his eye and smiled.