Ginny changed out of her quidditch robes roughly. Her frustration with their replacement keeper burned like a flame in the back of her mind, and she was not alone. This lost match was all because McLaggen was such a thick-headed troll. No one else on the team spoke, but nothing was needed to be said. The slamming of trunks, throwing of robes and the angry grunts said it all.

Then McLaggen spoke angrily.

"Well, I hope you guys learned what your issues are with this sport. If you had-"

BAM!

McLaggen was thrown back with such a force that he ended up on his back with the wind knocked out of him. The entire team glared down at him with no sympathy. Ginny stepped forward, her wand in her hand. Sparks were shooting out its end in a fiery rage. It was as if the wand wanted to hit him harder, but Ginny resisted patiently. Her eyes shot blazing daggers at McLaggen.

"OUR issues... You really think this loss was because of US?!" She could not contain her rage. It wasn't just the loss that fueled her. "Was it really your place to ditch the goalposts when you are the keeper?! How about stealing a bat from our own beater?! IS KNOCKING OUT THE CAPTAIN OF THE TEAM REALLY WHAT MAKES A GOOD QUIDDITCH PLAYER?!"

She was screaming so powerfully that her voice was already cracking. She couldn't help it. Seeing Harry fall lifeless after that blow, she feared the worst, and his cockiness only added to her anger. McLaggen sat on the ground in shock. Dean was staring at Ginny in concern.

"If I were you, I would stay away from the pitch for good. Don't think you're going to be getting back on this team. Ron will be out of the hospital soon and I'd watch out for Harry when he comes around."

"Who do you think you are telling me what I can and can't do?" McLaggen spat. "I don't have-"

But he was cut off before he could finish that statement. Ginny had whipped her wand and sent him flying again. He hit his head on the wall and slid onto the floor, motionless.

Ginny's heart was pounding. She was panting heavily. Without another word, she walked out. Dean quickly ran after her. The rest of the team was stunned at Ginny.

When Dean caught up with her, he didn't know what to say. He just walked by her side. Ginny didn't look at him. He reached up and took her hand in his own. Ginny slowed down. She looked at Dean, but then back to the ground. When he took her hand, Ginny had imagined it was Harry. She felt slightly ashamed, like she was taking advantage of Dean just because Harry didn't return her feelings.

"You know," Dean started, obviously trying to cheer her up, "it was kinda funny the way Harry fell. Don't ya think?"

Ginny ripped her hand away from his and glared at him. Dean stood frozen.

"It wasn't funny at all."

She did not scream or even raise her voice, but the tone of voice she used was as scary as a viper rearing up to strike.

"Ginny, I just meant- I mean… I'm glad he's okay of course-"

"I'm going to the hospital wing," she said shortly stomping forward. "And don't follow me!"

Dean had made to join her, but at that last statement, held back in confusion.

Ginny stormed up the stairs angrily.

How could he think that was funny… it was horrible…

Ginny groaned but tried to contain herself. She had just reached the doors to the hospital wing. She stopped, took a deep breath and opened the door.

She walked inside and saw her older brother propped up in his bed. He looked around at her and she entered. There was a sympathetic smile that told her that he knew the outcome of the game.

Just beyond Ron's bed was the only other occupant.

Harry was still unconscious. There was a blanket draped over him and a large wrap of bandages around his head where the bludger hit him. Ginny's heart sank with sadness, but she tried not to show it.

"Still hasn't come around yet, huh?" she asked. Her voice, which was loud and shrill just moments ago was suddenly calm.

"Nope," Ron answered sadly.

"How bad was it?"

"Madam Pomfrey said it cracked his skull. I saw it when they brought him in. It looked really bad."

"Watching it was worse."

"He'll be okay, though," he added, trying to cheer her up. "Madam Pomfrey fixed him up. I think he'll have to stay here for a day or two though."

Ginny sat down at the edge of Harry's bed and sighed.

"Oh, Ron. If you hadn't been poisoned we wouldn't have had to deal with that… THAT…" Ginny started getting fired up again, but regained composure.

"Well, I didn't ask for it," Ron chuckled. "Hey, what did McLaggen say after the game? Did he blame you guys?"

"He tried," she said maliciously. "I gave him a little taste of what Harry taught us in the D.A. last year. I swear, he thinks he should be king or something! If Harry hadn't shown up so late, he could have helped shut him up about what we should be doing on the pitch."

"What do you mean if Harry hadn't shown up late? He left here early enough to get down there."

"He only just got there before we were to start."

"Why?"

"I dunno. You can ask him when he wakes up."

Ginny just sat there and looked at Harry. She could hear the frustration in his voice just before he fell.

"Would you give him back his bat and get back to the goal posts?!"

At least it was a comfort that Harry disliked McLaggen as much as Ginny does. The sound of that bludger when it made contact with his head though… it sent shivers up her spine.

"I think I'm gonna go. Tell Harry we hope he gets better soon. If we don't get back our keeper or our seeker, we'll never get that Quidditch Cup this year."

"I will." Ron smiled. Ginny returned it and left.