They were rubbish. There was no way in a million lightyears Gryffindor would win the Quidditch Cup -- not unless Jack Sloper and Andrew Kirke miraculously acquired super-beater-powers, or Umbridge dropped dead.
Ginny digressed there for a moment to imagine drowning Umbridge in Stinksap, feeling a grim smile quirk her mouth in vicious satisfaction... before she brought her mind back to the dark reality that was the most embarrassing defeat Gryffindor had seen in a century. It was looming over her terrible team like a grey canopy of clouds. Still she turned to Ron to mention the rather lovely idea of Umbridge in Stinksap, but her voice died in her thoat at the ashen face of her brother.
For once, Ron wasn't berating himself for the awful practice they'd just suffered through, but Ginny didn't think it had much to do with increased confidence. It was more likely he knew she'd respond with a derisive snort like always, or he was just too instilled with disgust at the unconcious Sloper's head lolling on his shoulder. Ron gave Ginny a half-hearted wave before continuing his trudge up the stairs with Sloper in tow up to the hospital wing. Ginny walked towards the Fat Lady's portrait, still fuming inwardly at Jack Sloper and Andrew Kirke's shockingly bad performance and deliberately avoiding any thought of her brother's goalkeeping.
She stormed over to a seat before the crackling fire of the Gryffindor common room, scrunching at her hair with her fingers tightly as she remembered in painful clarity Kirke swinging his bat with such force he fell off his broom, Sloper hitting multiple bludgers towards Angelina and Kirke crashing into Alicia three times - Ginny herself had narrowly avoided colliding with him herself on several occasions. But the worst image, in Ginny's opinion at least, was the final moment Sloper had let out a string of yelps as he swung his bat wildly in the rain, voicing complaints on visibility in the rain in a feverish voice before he'd let out a confused sound.
'Where's my bat gone?' Ginny had heard him say clearly, and she had turned around just in time to see Sloper get conked on the head with a loud crunch with his very own bat. No one was really sure about it, but it appeared Sloper had thrown his bat above him and it had fallen straight down on top of his head. To cap matters, the bludgers were revealed to have been at the other end of the pitch. Ginny let out a low groan.
"How was practice?" Ginny looked up to see Hermione sparing her a half-glance from her Runes dictionary, and Ginny just shook her head. Hermione looked at her sympathetically before returning to her work.
It had to be a bad omen, too, that the warming weather -- and just for the hour they'd gone out to practice on the pitch -- had suddenly poured with rain. She was soaked, and the fire did not seem to be helping. She took out her wand and tried to make the funny little wave Hermione could do to dry her clothes, but her wand only let out a pathetic cough of luke-warm air.
She looked over to Hermione, who was deeply engrossed in her Ancient Runes notes across her, and decided against asking her about it. Disgruntled, Ginny let her mind wander as her hand continued to twiddle her wand, the warm air wheezing feebly on her Quidditch robes.
She had to admit that, though she wasn't nearly as bad as Kirke or Sloper, she did not have quite the reaction-time or speed of Harry Potter, so she supposed she couldn't really slag off the new Beaters. Her mind lingered on Harry for a moment, envisioning his face easily, and felt her brows crease slightly. Something was bothering him lately. She didn't think she was imagining the increasingly disturbed and gloomy aura around Harry, and no matter how hard he tried to arrange his face into a normal expression, Ginny knew far better than he probably knew she did.
Something was bothering him, and if Ginny cast her mind back to anything bad that might disturb Harry, she'd suppose it was Cho. They'd had a fierce fight over Marietta, according to Michael Corner, and they were not speaking to each other. Though Ginny personally thought Marietta was a bit of a cow for running off to Umbridge, she did think Harry might have cut Cho some slack for it -- after all, wasn't Cho's defiance a sign of loyalty, a highly prized Gryffindor trait? No, to go futher than that -- didn't Harry like Cho enough to understand and forgive Marietta's blunder?
Ginny was startled out of her thoughts when her wand suddenly gave a high-pitched whistle before letting out a strong stream of hot air. Surprised but admittedly pleased, Ginny dried out herself properly as she reprimanded herself. You are not, Ginny told herself firmly, going to think about that. You know it's not going anywhere...
"Ginny, I think your Mum's Easter eggs have arrived."
"What?"
Ginny looked up to see Hermione distractedly gesturing to the two school owls ruffling their feathers on the table. As they set off, Hermione suddenly let out an indignant noise. "Umbridge has gone through it!"
"What?" Ginny looked down at that the package her Mum had wrapped with brown paper. It had obviously been torn open and hastily stuck together again. Ginny's eyes narrowed as she hissed, "Does she think my Mum's going to send her children secret information artfully concealed inside chocolate eggs? What kind of stupidity does that cow take us all for?!"
"Are the eggs alright?" Hermione asked worriedly. Ginny wasn't sure Hermione's worry was so much for the eggs as it was for Ginny's rising temper, so she rummaged through the box without comment before letting out a soft sigh of relief.
"They seem okay. Though I'm not sure I want to eat anything that old toad touched."
"We could sterilise them," Hermione suggested, and Ginny nodded as she nudged the box towards Hermione as she said,
"Yes please."
Hermione pulled out her wand and tapped the box, muttering 'Expurgo' and smiling slightly as a few filmy-looking grey bubbles frothed from the chocolate eggs and floated away from the box. Ginny let out a groan of disgust.
"Well, what do you know. That woman is as filthy as she acts." Ginny pointed her wand at the bubbles and directed the lot into the fire. Then Ginny shook her wand to cease the hot air and pushed the box of eggs towards Hermione. "Go on, take one while you're here. Happy Easter."
"Thanks," Herimone said gratefully as she lifted out an egg with her nametag on it. Ginny caught a glimpse of spellbooks iced onto the egg before Hermione set it next to her tottering pile of Runes dictionaries, sighing, "Oh, it's so beautiful. I don't want to eat it."
"I know what you mean," Ginny said with a laugh, surveying the box of eggs and noting the spectacular detail on each egg through the transparent packaging, "they all look so intricate."
"Yes," Hermione said, and Ginny noticed her voice turning vague, a sure sign she was getting immersed in her Runes Translation once more. Ginny eyed the box, her eyes trailing over Harry's egg quite involuntarily. It was covered in glittering Snitches, which she supposed was quite fitting. What was he doing now, if he wasn't in the common room? Ginny found herself looking up at Hermione, slightly annoyed that one of Harry's closest friends was actually accepting that flimsy excuse he was stressed with exams, to see Hermione looking at her with a strange expression. Ginny thought she was trying hard not to smile.
"Do you have anything to do now?"
"No, I did all my Charms homework this morning before practice. Hermione, you know I'm not like Ron."
"I'm aware of that." Here, Hermione's expression flickered slightly before returning to the almost-amused one. "Well, if you've nothing better to do, why don't you... go give out those eggs?" Hermione's suggestion came across in a rather innocent tone. Ginny had to bite back a retort and stop herself from scowling. Hermione had accepted Ginny's decision to give up on Harry, but every now and then there was this occasional little thing she'd do to let Ginny know that Hermione was very much thinking otherwise.
"Why not?" Ginny said indifferently, and she rose from her seat, pocketed her wand and heaved the box up. "I'll go the give the eggs out, then," She said, and Hermione nodded, looking absent-minded as her finger trailed down a list of runes on some parchment. Ginny thought she caught her mouth straining not to smile again, however, and with a roll of her eyes she walked out of the common room.
Before she knew it, she was standing in front of the library. Ginny told herself that it had to be logical she knew Harry would be here because most of the students in fifth-year were down here, not because she'd noticed him nipping down there since last week exclusively, and chasing the nagging sensation away she entered the library using her foot because her hands were full.
And sure enough, Harry was sitting down at a table alone, dully looking at an open textbook. Ginny noticed the Transfiguration textbook was upside-down. He had a quill in his hand that was hovering above his half-filled parchment, coated in dry ink. She shook her head, feeling a stir of emotion somewhere at the pit of her stomach at the disturbed and confused way he was staring at his book. How did he manage to make himself look like such a hopelessly lost child?
"Hey Harry," Ginny said, sliding into the chair next to him. He did not respond. Disconcerted, Ginny repeated, "Hey Harry." Still no answer. She raised her voice slightly. "Harry, I'm talking to you, can you hear me?"
"Huh?" He seemed to shake himself out of his thoughts to look round at her. Ginny had the distinct impression he was surprised at how much time had passed. "Oh, hi," he said, his voice sounding blank, and for some reason the way he pulled his books towards himself made Ginny want to grab them back. "How come you're not at practice?"
Ginny closed her eyes momentarily as the disgrace tugged at her brain. "It's over. Ron had to take Jack Sloper up to the hospital wing." She'd said it as quickly as possible to avoid further pain, but Harry asked,
"Why?"
"Well, we're not sure," Ginny said darkly, "but we think he knocked himself out with his own bat." She heaved a long sigh. Saying it out loud somehow made it a lot worse. Something flickered in his eyes, and Ginny marvelled inwardly at the way he could still worry about Gryffindor's Quidditch team despite all his obvious inner turmoil. She quickly changed the subject. "Anyway... a package just arrived, it's only just got through Umbridge's screening process."
Ginny pulled the box up from the floor onto the tabletop, watching Harry's eyes flitter across the words 'Inspected and Passed by the Hogwarts High Inquisitor'. Harry looked as though he'd been force-fed Bubotuber pus, as he usually did when he heard the word 'Umbridge', but Ginny noticed that the distaste did not quite wipe away the haunted look in his eyes.
"It's Easter eggs from Mum. There's one for you..." Her eyes caught onto the twinkling iced Snitches in a flash, but she gave herself a few more seconds of looking through the box before removing the chocolate egg from it. "There you go." She pushed the egg into his waiting palm, his fingers brushing against her own. They were cold, despite the sunlit warmth of the library.
He looked at the chocolate egg, his eyes roaming over the little Snitches, and Ginny was startled to see his eyebrows knot as he bit his lip, hard. Harry had shown consternation, frustration and hatred throughout the past few weeks and vented it out in fits of anger. But he had never, to Ginny's memory, sported the look he wore now. He looked utterly lost and confused, quite defeated and in despair.
It was the look of a boy who had grown past his age, and now he didn't know what was going on anymore.
Ginny had never had to control the urge to hold Harry quite so badly in her life. She settled for asking softly, "Are you okay, Harry?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." And Dolores Umbridge was a kind and gentle woman. Ginny felt like kicking him and hugging him at the same time.
"You seem really down lately." She said pointedly. At this, Harry avoided eye-contact and his grimace grew. Why did he have to pretend to be so macho at times he felt vulnerable? Come to think of it, Michael Corner had the same problem too, though perhaps to a worse degree... Then Ginny remembered why Harry seemed to be in such a dark mood, and decided to approach it.
"You know, I'm sure if you just talked to Cho..."
"It's not Cho I want to talk to." Ginny was surprised at the roughness in Harry's voice, and she studied him carefully. His green eyes were now revealing just how disturbed he was actually feeling, though his expression looked a little surprised at his own words. Had he not meant to tell Ginny that? She ignored the little leap her heart had made when he'd said it wasn't really about Cho at all, and gazing into his eyes intently she said quietly,
"Who is it, then?"
"I..." Ginny's heart gave a funny little jolt again at the way Harry was looking about the library, his eyes twinged with nervousness and insecurity. "I wish I could talk to Sirius."
Ginny hadn't expected that, but she wasn't necessarily shocked. It certainly explained why he hadn't said much about it. A little voice in her head wondered why, but she squashed it easily. Harry obviously hadn't told anyone about his dilemma, and she wasn't about to find out why. The fact he'd voiced his main problem was enough. Harry still wasn't meeting her eyes, and he lowered his own to the chocolate egg in his hands as he said softly, "But I know I can't."
Ginny wondered about that. Sure, talking to Sirius was not exactly easy, given the circumstances... but was it as impossible as Harry's defeated voice was making it out to be? Nothing is impossible, Fred's voice echoed cheerfully through her head, but her thoughts were disrupted by the sight of Harry unwrapping his Easter egg. He broke off some chocolate and nibbled at it listlessly. There was something about the way he did it that seemed to Ginny entirely too fragile and... alone.
That wouldn't do, of course. She reached over, still thinking about Fred and George as she took a bit of his egg. "Well, if you really want to talk to talk to Sirius, I expect we could think of a way to do it." She popped the chocolate in her mouth and chewed as she watched Harry shake his head slowly, his gloom seeming to intensify as he swallowed and mumbled,
"Come on. With Umbridge policing the fires and reading all our mail?" He turned his gaze to the brown paper Ginny had strewn over the table top to emphasise his point. Ginny didn't like the dark tone his voice was taking. She would have thought Harry knew by now that this was something he hadn't had to keep to himself. He should have known he would get help, if he would only ask for it. Especially if he knew the Weasley twins. Didn't he know they cared about him enough to want to help?
No. Ginny realised this immediately. The way Harry had been treating Ron and Hermione, the disputes in Grimmauld Place before school had started and after visiting her Dad in hospital -- it all stemmed from the simple fact Harry wasn't used to love. He was still struggling, somewhere inside, with the concept of being cared for. Ginny still thought Harry could be a real prick around it all, especially when he got so wrapped up in his own problems he couldn't spare a thought to anyone else's -- but in this case, Ginny knew Harry still couldn't ask for help when he needed it because he just didn't know if he should.
Well, maybe he couldn't ask for help directly, so the very least Ginny felt she could do was try and remind him that not everything was as sordid or impossible as he thought it was.
"The thing about growing up with Fred and George is that you sort of start thinking anything's possible if you've got enough nerve."
Harry finally turned to look at her directly, fixing his green eyes upon her own. She kept his gaze, and she thought she saw his tenseness relax just the slightest, and a flicker of something came in his eyes. Was it relief? Was it hope? Ginny wasn't sure, but she knew for certain that something about him seemed... lighter. Like a burden had been lifted off his shoulders.
"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?"
A curse fell from Ginny's lips as she leapt to her feet, the chair scraping back as she muttered, "I forgot --"
Madam Pince was already upon them, however, and her fury seemed to make her twice as overbearing than usual. "Chocolate in the library!" Every fuming syllable made Ginny wince. "Out-- out-- OUT!" She brandished her wand like a weapon.
Harry looked slightly alarmed, and he and Ginny exchanged glances before Harry's stationery, bag and textbooks were not just levitating from the tabletop, but hitting them on the head like sharp nips from an irritated owl. "Ow-- ouch, sorry Madam Pince--" The pair of them made a run for the library exit, Harry's quill poking Ginny's ear and his bag thwacking her over the head painfully as they ran. As soon as they were out, the items dropped onto the floor unceremoniously. The ink bottle was barely saved by Harry catching it just before it smashed onto the floor, reminding Ginny once more of Harry's Seeker talent, and Harry suddenly looked at Ginny with a brief and bright grin.
"Sorry." His voice was sincere. "I guess I forgot too." Ginny snorted as she picked up his Transfiguration notes and handed it to him. Their fingers brushed against each other once more, and she noticed his hands seemed a little warmer now. Or was it her imagination, and she only wished he were warmer now?
"It doesn't matter. Nothing to say sorry about, by any rate."
"Still." Harry was looking at her thoughtfully, and Ginny noticed with a slight twinge of disappointment that he was no longer gracing her with his smile.
"I'll talk to Fred and George about it, Harry. I'm sure they'll come up with something."
"Yeah. Thanks, Ginny."
"No problem, Harry." She smiled at him, and Harry looked gratefully back at her. Then he gave her an almost apologetic look as he said,
"Is the Gryffindor Quidditch team really that bad?"
Ginny didn't mind the question much now. "You have no idea."
"How's... well, how's Ron doing?"
Ginny sighed. "I don't know. Back at the Burrow he'd Keep a lot, and he was pretty decent at it."
"Was?" Harry echoed, frowning slightly. "He's not doing too badly now, is he?"
"He was much better playing with my brothers," Ginny said resolutely, "but I think he's just so much more nervous here."
"He did a couple of practice saves with me before he played in front of the team, you know, and he was really quite good," Harry mused, "but I think... well, I guess Fred and George somewhat made him lose his touch."
"Oh, they always have since ages ago, it's a brother thing." Ginny shrugged before she added, "I guess it's pretty obvious that the Slytherins aren't making things easier."
"You can say that again," Harry said bitterly, and Ginny wondered for a moment just why Harry couldn't accept unconditional loyalty from Ron and Hermione when Harry himself gave such. "Those gits, I guess I'm pretty used to their stupid insults. But the worst Ron had to face before this year was the petty stuff that came from Malfoy's inflamed head--"
"Which, admittedly, isn't much," Ginny intervened, and Harry gave her another quick grin.
"Exactly. But now, with that really stupid song there to wound Ron up every match..." Harry's grin faded to worry.
"Ron'll do better the moment he realises he can do it." Ginny said confidently. "He used to stuff up on the chess games he played with Dad when he was younger -- this was way before Hogwarts -- but at one point he had this breakthrough that if he put his mind to it, it might not be impossible. He got up the nerve and defeated him spectacularly. Since then, Ron's never lost a game of chess."
"So when he decides to put his mind to it--"
"He'll do fine."
Harry didn't say anything, but Ginny thought it rather obvious he was thinking quite the contrary. Before she could question him on this, however, Harry had looked up and said clearly, "Flutterby Bush."
The Fat Lady's portrait swung open and the two clambered into the Gryffindor common room. Students were studying here and there, many completing last-minute homework. Ron and Hermione were sleeping in front of the fire in their usual seats. Ginny turned to Harry. "Well, I don't really want to wake them up," she whispered, "so I think I'll just nip up and take a long-needed shower. I'll make sure Fred and George get back to you soon."
"Sure," Harry nodded at Ginny, "good night."
"Good night." She turned and opened the door to the staircase up to the girl's dormitories, but as she took the first step Harry's voice stilled her movements.
"Er..." Ginny turned around, raising an eyebrow at him, and he looked a little awkward as he said, "Thanks."
She looked at him for a moment before speaking. "No problem."
Again, Harry gave her a fleeting smile. "Good night then, Ginny."
"'Night."
As Ginny climbed the stairs, she felt a small thrill in her chest at the memory of the bright and simple smile Harry had given her, right after they'd run out of the library.
Ginny sighed to herself. That was the kind of expression he deserved to have on far more than he did now, really. Unfortunately, nothing seemed very simple for Harry now. The same kind of way Ginny found her attraction to Harry no longer as simple as she'd hoped it was. Try as she might, the little thrill would not go away.
-fin-