The wind rushed past in a flurry, making the world transform into a multicolored blur. Ginny's flaming hair seemed to have caught fire, rippling in waves behind her. Her eyes narrowed as she spotted the quaffle ahead.
Aha.
She mustered up all her energy and kicked her lazy broom into the fastest "gear" possible, and pressed herself down, determined not to slip up.
Quidditch was what she lived for. She had finally found a sport that matched her rebellious, athletic attitude. There really was nothing like the feeling of smacking the leathery quaffle into a rusty goal post, or zooming ahead to make a great catch, managing to splat into a mud puddle in the process. Practically every other witch in Ginny's year had expressed an utter disgust towards the sport. ("It's all… dirty and stuff." –credits to Kim Gershwin)
Being "all dirty and stuff, something Ginny usually loved, she couldn't wait to get cleaned up with a nice hot shower and head down to the Great Hall to read. A school dance was approaching, tomorrow now that she thought about it, and the hall was extremely and slightly over- the- top decorated. The dirty, footprint- ridden floor had been covered with velvet rugs, deep scarlet, and crystal had been hung from the ceiling in odd and exotic formations. Filch had even polished some of them; he seemed to be getting excited about the whole thing, believe it or not. (Ginny had seen him dressing up Mrs. Norris in a horrible leopard- pattern dress, and dearly hoped he wouldn't be taking her to the dance again.) She felt odd inside whenever a school dance came around. Her girly side reared its ugly, pink, bow- ridden head, and she was changed for the month. She often would find herself gossiping about boys, although there was only one she was concerned about, and whenever she would pass two snogging students, envy would once again began its tedious profession of grawing away her insides. She wore makeup, something you would usually think she was allergic to for the way she looked at it. However, this year no one had asked her, and although he was a great guy, Ginny did not want to take Neville on another pity date.
A sudden splatter of icy rain on Ginny's freckled nose startled her, and she, unfortunately for her, lost focus. She cursed loudly, striking the front of her broom soundly, which she decided was stupid seeing as it sent a stinging pain through her hand. She stopped completely in her frustration, the momentum in her scarlet robes carrying them around to swish about her body. The rain drops had friends; Ginny could feel them starting to soak into her clothes, and her hair was already dripping. Ron zoomed past, giving her a nasty smirk.
"I think you might want to try hitting the quaffle this time."
Ginny stuck her tongue out at him, cursing inwardly that she couldn't think of a smart enough retort in time.
"Real mature, that is." Ron sneered.
"You mean like yourself, mate?"
Ginny started and whipped her head around. Harry was there, winking at her with his glowing green eyes. Her heart fluttered in her chest, but she swallowed the rising lump in her throat and smiled at him. "You're good at that."
"What?" Harry laughed, cocking his head to the side.
Her mind raced for a punchline. Her heart was pounding so loud she was almost embarassed of it.
"Annoying Ron." she tried. She let out a shaking breath as he laughed at her stupid joke.
"Yeah, it's not that hard to do."
She studied him secretly, out of the corner of her eye. His shaggy black hair, dripping in the random dounpour. His twinkling smiling eyes, deep liquid emerald pools that simply welcomed you into his thoughts.
"I think the rain hates Quidditch." Ginny said, a little more confidently. Having a conversation with Harry was nerve- wracking! "It always decides to come down in the middle of our most productive practices."
"Yeah." Harry agreed. He added, "Of course, once the rain joins the party, it's not very productive anymore, is it?"
Ginny opened her mouth, but Harry cut in.
"Hold on." He darted down, zooming staright towards the ground. At first, Ginny considered the fact that he had gone mental. But then she spotted the glimmer that announced the prescence of a little friend.
The snitch.
It was amusing to watch Ron attempt to play Quidditch, but watching Harry was brilliant. Determination shone on his face; he convinced not only himself but whoever was watching that he would come out on top. Just by tilting the slightest, he could completely turn his broom around. He zigged and zagged across the field, in every direction possible, until his probing fingers closed around the taunting little ball. He emerged from the blur he had been a moment ago, breathless but proud and dignified, and did not fail to return right back to their conversation. The pestering rain continued to hammer away relentlessly.
"Brilliant, thast was." Ginny observed, awe- struck.
"Thanks." Harry smiled at her. Her heart skipped a beat, and she swallowed ( a little more obviously than she would have liked). His face suddenly became serious, and Ginny knew immediately what he was going to say. Her heart beat like a bass drum, and her whole body swelled with happiness.
"Hey, erm…Ginny…" now his face had gone pale, and he began awkwardly rotating the ball in his hand. "Would you…er…want to…uh, its okay if you don't….but…if you don't have a date…erm. Will you go to the dance with me?"
"Sure." Ginny laughed. She was surprised at how level and collected her voice sounded.
"Great! Brilliant!" Harry said. Ginny 's heart beat furiously at her ribs as she realized how relieved he was. She was trying to think of something nice to say to end their conversation when she noticed that Harry was staring behind her with a look of panic on his face, vivid, even in the rain.
"Ginny-" was all he managed before a blow like the swing of a sledge hammer crashed into Ginny's leg. It was a hulking blow, jolting her whole body violently. She managed to hold on with her shaking hands, her fingers clenched around the wooden stalk so tightly her knuckles were white. Her stomach heaved dangeroulsy, and there was no doubt in her mind that something was wrong. At first, for a moment frozen in time, there was no feeling in her attacked limb. Then, slowly, like a sickening pulse, a horrible, naseating pain snuck its way into her whole leg. It throbbed like a heartbeat, sudden and dull, like a blacksmith pounding away at a suit of armor.
"Ginny." Harry repeated, his voice shaking.
"Leg…" she managed to gasp. She wished desperately that she hadn't, for her stomach heaved and she gagged for the difficulty to suck in her painful breath.
"Wood!" Harry called down to Oliver. "Ginny got hit by a bludger!" As he was roaring down toward the general direction of their Captain, he was beating furiously with his hands as the angry ball buzzed about his head like a disturbed bee.
Ginny couldn't take it anymore. She slowly spiraled downward, her whole body clenched tight and shuddering in sickness, She squeezed her eyes shut as she felt her broom gaining speed, spiraling and spiraling. She thought about how many other bones would break as she smashed into the ground. Probably quite a few. She would just keep falling and falling until she splattered into the thick mud below. Butterflies rose in her stomach, flapping wildly as her hair whirled around her head in a flurry. But this time, as the wind rushed around her, she had nothing to look forward to except the cold earth.
Suddenly there was a jolt, and she stopped moving. She didn't open her eyes, but, allowing as minimal movement as possible, she felt the barrier that had saved her. Wet robes were all she could feel. Someone inside them was breathing heavily. She reached up to her saviour's face. She opened her eyes; it was an effort. Harry was holding her gently, and she realized with a wave of embarassment that her hand was caressing his face. She pulled away, but that brought a stab of pain.
"Ha-har-"
He looked down at her.
"I'm going to take you to the Hospital Wing, Ginny."
She nodded and clutched his robes tight, her head reeling. She knew he wouldn't drop her; his arm was around her shoulders as she lay on his lap, and his other was around her waist. She was safe with him. He skillfully steered his broom down to Earth, and carefully picked her up. Ginny was hardly aware as blurs of people rushed onto the field and carried her away. She was laid out on a stretcher and, after being rushed past concerned students in the hallway, delivered at the Hospital Wing, the room of pure white. Her muddy robes on the clean, fresh- smelling sheets made Madam pomfrey flinch, but she said nothing on the matter.
"Another Quidditch accident?" Her voice sounded very unsympathetic. Ginny nodded wearily.
"I'm telling you, it just keeps getting worse and worse. 'Slammed by the other team!' 'Fell into a pile of mud.' 'Crash landed my broomstick!' Which of those is your problem?" she inquired as she poured some thick green substance into a crystal goblet. Ginny shook her head feebly.
"So it wasn't a Quidditch accident?" Madam Pomfrey's face scrunched up in confusion. Then, her revelation lit up her face. "Oh, must've been those nasty bludgers."
Ginny nodded again.
"Oh poor dear!" Madam Pomfrey's whole body softened. "Now drink this." To Ginny's dismay, she was handed the goo goblet. "Let me see…..oi! Drink it, I said!"
Ginny forced it down, tilting the goblet so it oozed into her mouth sluggishly. She gagged a few times before it slid down her dry throat. It tasted like…something. Ginny couldn't place a name on the putrid stuff because no one in their right mind would ever consume something like it, she decided.
Madam Pomfrey prodded Ginny's right leg. Ginny gasped and let out a yelp of pain that echoed through the room.
Madam Pomfrey sighed and said with expertise, "Leg fractured at the kneecap. Shin broken in three places."
"Can…you…fix…?" Ginny couldn't manage an "it."
"Yes, I 'can fix,' but its not simple, and it certainly won't be fun for you." She saw the look of despair on Ginny's face and gave in. "Fine. The procedure will take a while, so here we go." She pulled out her wand and waved it about Ginny's face. Her eyelids felt heavy, and without wondering, she gave in to the sleep spell gratefully.
Ginny woke up in the middle of the night with a start. Her leg was propped up, thickly layered with bandages and a fat white cast. It took her a moment to get her bearings, and as her eyes became accustomed to the gloom, she recognized the sterile Hospital Wing. All of that day's occurances flashed in Ginny's mind. And then, like a horrible blow, far worse than her now- dully-throbbing leg, a blow that deflated her whole body, hit her. She couldn't go to the dance wth Harry. Her whole body collapsed on itself, and she began sobbing, her body shaking and heaving. Tears wet her face as she lay there on her back, unable to turn.
"Shut up." came an exasperrated voice from beside Ginny's bed that made her start.
"Who's there?" she said quietly.
"Mulsa Thomalson. Slytherin, trying to sleep. Shut up."
Ginny shut up, but the tears ran down her cheeks all night.
In the morning, Ginny woke up groggily, her leg aching the way it does when you have severe growing pains. Mulsa Thomalson was gone from the bed beside her, but Ginny didn't really care. Dry tears on Ginny's face reminded her of the dance that night, and she was lucky enough to be able to expirience her mid-night realization all over again. She sighed soundly and attempted to dramatically fall back onto her pillow, and instead sucessfully smacked her head on the metal headboard. She gave up and just lay on her pillow. There was a hardcover book by her bedside table that caught her attention, but she soon discovered that all that was behind the worn, red cloth cover was "1001 Ways to Cure a Festering Boil." After reading the first chapter, Ginny lay the book back down in disgust, pushing it an extra few inches away for good measure.
Madam Pomfrey came in about an hour later, to discover that Ginny had drifted back to sleep. She clanged a breakfast bell (probably louder than nessicary) and Ginny gave a start in her bed, eyes snapping open. She felt more rested than before, on a positive note.
"BREAKFAST!" Madam Pomfrey hollered. "Feeling better?" she added as she poured some orange juice.
"Yeah." Ginny grunted as she shifted into a sitting position. She yawned widely. "What'm I having?"
"Oatmeal, a blueberry scone, orange juice, and a fresh dose of this!" She proudly displayed her gooey concoction.
"Bloody…alright."
As Ginny began shoveling in oatmeal, she question a busy Madam Pomfrey.
"Madam?"
Madam Pomfrey grunted in acknowledgement as she made Mulsa's ex- bed.
"Where are the other students? I mean, in a castle like this, it can't be just me who's a bit under the weather."
She sipped her orange juice.
"Well…" Madam Pomfrey sighed apoligetically and gave Ginny a sad smile.
"Well, dear…erm…all the students' injuries were minor enough to let them go…for today, you know."
"Why would-" Ginny stopped midsentence as she realized Madam Pomfrey meant because of the dance.
"Oh…sure." She ate her scone in silence.
That day was extremely boring for Ginny, not to mention depressing. The excited thumping feet below reached a point of utter taunting.
She knew the dance had started when the sun dropped too low to see. She picked up the boil book and was about to start "Chapter 2: All About Puss," when Madam Pomfrey's voice, mixed with someone else's, traveled down the hallway.
"One hour!"
"But-"
"I SAID AN HOUR!"
"Fine."
No! It couldn't be!
But it was.
Harry walked into the room, holding two glasses of something, trying to smile and balance his burdens at the same time.
"Harry!" Ginny shrieked. He almost dropped a glass.
"Now, just talk and drink your whatever that is, but no…nothing, okay? I don't know what you teenagers do these days, but I'm pretty sure you shouldn't." Madam Pomfrey grunted grumpily and stepped out of the room. Ginny's cheeks were as red as her hair. Harry pulled up a chair beside her bed and smiled.
"Why are you here?"
"What do you mean?" the smile fell from his face, but it still lingered about his lips.
"You should be at the dance. With all the dancing and music."
He leaned in close to her, smiling a side smile.
"I wasn't going for the music."
Ginny flung her arms around his neck and hugged him.
"Thanks."
She let go. She didn't feel embarassed, surprisingly. Somehow, it just felt…right.
"Here. Brought you something."
He presented a little crystal goblet. She sipped it expiramentally.
"Pumpkin juice!"
"The finest." He smiled.
They laughed and joked over their beverages, and Ginny told Harry a childhood story about Ron that made Harry spray out half his pumpkin juice. Then he stopped.
"What's wrong?" Ginny asked, concerned.
"Shh, shh!" Harry insisited.
Ginny watched curiously as Harry put down his goblet and kneeled on the floor. He put his head down to the marble and closed his eyes, working his mouth in concentration. Then he stood up, smiling.
"It's a slow dance." he explained. "C'mon. Take your leg out of the sling."
"Wha- why?" Ginny didn't understand what exactly he was meaning to do.
"We have to dance." he explained, as if it was obvious.
"Harry, my leg is broken if you hadn't noticed."
"Aw, c'mon." he persisted.
Ginny shook her head.
"Alright…well, what if…er…" he appeared to be out of ideas when his face suddenly lit up happily, making Ginny smile as well.
He pulled out his wand and muttered something under his breath, then turned back around.
"Harry, wh-"
He raised his hand for silence. Then, whirring through the air, Ginny's green silk dress swept into the room, floating.
"What good is a dance," Harry said while walking over to it, "without your dress?"
Ginny grinned.
"Here. Let me help you into it." Ginny felt her heart pound and her cheeks blushing crazily.
"Over your clothes, of course!" Harry added quickly, realizing he had forgotten to mention that little detail. He was blushing, too.
Harry gently removed her leg from the sling, and put it through the dress's top. She lifted her other leg and pushed it through the fabric. He pulled the dress along her body, not once touching her, but she had to help him at her waist.
"I've been stealing seconds at breakfast." she admitted, which made him laugh. It fit snugly around her waist, hugging her tight. He pulled it up and she pushed her arms through the straps. After pulling the dress up over her chest awkwardly, he helped her sit up in the bed and zipped up her dress. She was beautiful.
"Now what?" Ginny demanded.
Harry knelt on one knee. "May I have this dance?"
"It's probably over by now." Ginny argued, before adding, "Of course. But I don't see how."
"You have feet, don't you?"
"Yes."
"And you can walk, can't you?"
"Well…maybe…but-"
"Then you can dance."
He helped her out of the bed, and she immediately toppled over. He grabbed her waist and pulled her close to his body before she could fall any further.
"Thanks." She said to his bow tie.
He guided her across the empty floor, humming music and laughing. She staggered at first, and couldn't seem to find her balance. But gradually, she was able to find a pattern. Her dress swirled about her as she laughed and hummed in off- key harmony with Harry. She spun and twirled, and Harry sometimes imitated her, which made her stomach ache with amusement. Their footsteps echoed in the empty hall, dancing in an imaginary ballroom to imaginary music. They seemed to soar, gliding gracefully along the marble in the dark, empty room.
Suddenly, Ginny staggered in the swirls of her dress and tripped, knocking both of them to the floor. On the way down, Ginny's lips brushed Harry's mouth roughly. Her stomach twisted. She sat up at the same time as Harry, and turned to face him.
"I'm…I'm sorry! I didn't mean to-" She stopped as Harry kissed her full on the mouth, which was open in mid- sentence. She felt his lips moving gently in rhythm against her own, and she copied him, closing her eyes. They broke apart without opening their eyes and moved in again, in a more comfortable position. He wrapped his arms around her as he kissed her repeatedly on first her top lip, then her bottom. She slid easily on the marble floor until their bodies were pressed together, and her arms were holding him firmly, his the same. She felt him break away momentarily, but she didn't open her eyes, for fear this was a dream. "Hope you don't mind." Harry whispered into her ear, but when she opened her mouth to answer, he pressed his lips to hers gently, sweetly. Ginny shivered as she felt his hands run up and down her back, stopping at her shoulders. She felt him pull away.
He was smiling at her, eyes twinkling.
"First kiss?"
She nodded.
"Me too."
Suddenly, Harry went rigid, and a sheepish look came over his face.
Ginny followed his gaze behind her to see a cranky Madam Pomferey.
"Snogging! I told you, no funny business."
"She had a bug on her mouth?" Harry tried. "I was smashing it with my lips."
Madam Pomfrey raised an eyebrow.
After a few "But's" and "You could've killed my patient, on the floor like that…huh! Why, in my day…'s" and "No, nothing else happened! I'm only sixteen!'s," Harry left.
Ginny flopped back onto her pillow, trying to convince herself it was real. She touched her lips gently.
Suddenly, Harry ran into the room.
"You told her you forgot your jacket?"
"I told her I forgot something." he smiled. He rushed over to her bedside and asked "Will you go out with me? Keep in mind that if you say no, we just had a bit of a snog, and its not very ladylike to snog when you're not courtin-"
Ginny pulled him down close and hugged him. He hugged her back sweetly.
"'Bye Ginny."
"'Bye!"
As soon as she lay back down, the door swung open again.
"Harry! What, back for more?"
"I forgot my jacket." He said, cheeks blushing. She laughed and waved as he went out. Again. The door swung open right away, and Ginny was about to really lay it on him when she saw it was Madam Pomfrey.
"I knew he didn't forget his jacket the first time." She winked.
"But I thought you-"
"I was young once, too, you know." She said, pouring more sludge into a glass.
Ginny lay down. To think, this was all thanks to a bludger.
(But her leg really did hurt quite a bit.)