Rising Heart

Disclaimer: I wonder…

So. This is Harry Potter. Not that I've never seen him before – he just looks different, close up. I mean, I didn't realise The Boy Who Lived was green… although that might be nerves. The poor boy looks half sick with nerves. I smile at him, partly to encourage him and partly to encourage me.

The whistle screeches above my thoughts, and I literally feel the pressure descend on my rising shoulders. I've already discussed the tactics with Roger, so, of course, I totally disregard my instructions and tail Harry closely. This, you understand, is only because he is more likely to spot the Snitch than me and I need to know when he does. It is not, repeat not because I feel any romantic attraction towards him whatsoever. He's just a little squirt with a fancy broom. A Firebolt, though that doesn't make much difference.

Harry's eyes are scanning the Quidditch field carefully. At this height, I'm surprised he can see anything, never mind a tiny Snitch. His green eyes flick to and fro, like a nervous Snidget's, almost. His eyes… they're the same shade of green as the grass, just much more expressive. I feel like I can tell what he's thinking just by looking at those eyes.

At the moment, he's cool, calculating, and slightly frustrated by the fact that I manage to keep getting in front of him. At least, that's what I like to think.

He's diving, suddenly, but I'm right behind him… he's almost there – so am I – he's going to get it before I am… I can tell-

BLUDGER! Yes! Next time, I'll be ready.

And I am. The Snitch reappears surprisingly soon, but the moment Harry shoots off I am after him. I manoeuvre my broom in front of his and block him. He scowls, sweetly, but I just grin. Oh, all right, he is quite handsome, as boys go. And I'm not just saying that because of who he is.

The main thing that I like about flying is that my height doesn't really matter. On the ground, everyone's taller than I am, but up in the air, I can fly higher, faster and more elegantly than any of my team-mates. It's great.

I'm still following Harry. It's much easier than looking for the Snitch myself.

His black hair streams behind him as he dives, and his face- his lips are pulled back in a manic grin, His eyes, however, sparkle with a joy that I completely understand.

I automatically assume he's seen the Snitch, and follow him. He pulls out of the dive before it becomes a Wronski Feint, but I know he hasn't seen the Snitch.

And then I do…

Speeddive, I call it. Harry's catching up with me, though. It's that fancy broom of his. He's pulling ahead and –

Oh. My. God.

I didn't think it would happen again. I thought Dumbledore had frightened them away for good. Oddly, I don't feel as cold as normal. Maybe it's because I'm up in the air, flying so high above them.

Dementors.

Harry hears my gasp, looks down, pulls out his wand and casts some silvery charm thing at them. I don't know what it is.

All thoughts of winning, of course, have gone from my head. I'm just filled with anxiety… for Harry? That can't be right?

But he fell off his broom, last time, and nearly killed himself. What if that happens again? Wait a minute… where is he?

And why is everyone cheering?

Unless…

Oh, no. He's caught the Snitch. Roger's going to kill me.

AN: Well? It's that chapter in HP3 – Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw – from Cho's PoV. What do you think, then?