Disclaimer: "Bend It" belongs to not me, and HP is J.K.'s. Thanks, Goddess of pro-fic.
A/N: Wow, this is bad! This is one of my favorite fics and it's been since MAY that I updated. Not for lack of inspiration. Blame WE (War's End) my patience readers! I have great ideas for this fic and will definitely see it through. Just give me time! Hope you enjoy. THANK YOU for all your wonderful reviews and fantastic suggestions. I think all of you who sent me suggestions via e-mail have been responded to and while I can't promise to use all of your ideas, I can assure you that all have been considered and helped tremendously in the brainstorming process.
Loves to you!
J.T.
)BW(
Ginny awoke the morning after the previous evening's eventful practice with a headache and not a small degree of resentment toward her family. She sat blearily up and stared around her dorm, realizing that it was really too early on a Saturday to be awake. Two of her dorm mates were already sitting up and looking rather blankly around. Both were, however, noticeably avoiding Ginny's eye.
She snorted loudly, before perversely making a noisy and obvious show of getting up, stretching, and pulling her broomstick from under her bed. She proceeded to polish it for the next few minutes, humming The Weird Sisters under her breath. She was just giving a finishing snip to her broom's tail when the door of the sixth year's dormitory flew opened.
"Ginny!" It was Pavarti who, without preamble, flung herself across the room and onto Ginny's bed. "Gin, you'll never believe what's happened!"
Ginny's dorm mates were staring at Pavarti in amazement, and no wonder. Her hair was bundled onto the top of her head in a mess of curls, she wore no makeup, and her pajama top was on backwards. Coupled with this, she was a seventh year. Seventh years never came into their dorm, apart from Hermione, but that didn't count, as she was usually in there to tell Ginny off or rage about Ron.
"What?" Ginny demanded, knowing that the only reason Pavarti could possibly be in her dorm this early in the morning with no makeup was to discuss Quidditch. "Has Malfoy found a way to sneak Parkinson and Ananda and Bulstrode back onto the team?"
"Sadly, no," Pavarti said, looking momentarily regretful – which expression in connection with Slytherins was causing the other sixth years to gape at Pavarti like fish out of water. The seventh year went on.
"But guess what's happened instead?"
"What?"
"Malfoy's ordering brooms and uniforms today and we're choosing colors and a mascot!"
Ginny was torn between excitement and depression. On the one hand, they had all been discussing various mascots and colors for ages. On the other hand, Ginny wasn't officially on the team anymore, so what did she care?
No, that was selfish. She did care and she might still be on the team. Anyway, she still had some time to convince her family before she fell significantly behind or had to worry about missing a match.
"Excellent," she said to Pavarti, grinning widely. Turning deliberately to her gaping dorm mates, she said coolly, "Yes, can we help you?"
They scowled at her and ducked into the loo, muttering to each other and casting dark looks at her.
"Immature twits," Pavarti said loudly and without concern. "Come on, we'll get dressed and go to breakfast. Since we're not really a secret anymore, Malfoy may decide to call us together this morning in the library or something."
"Not that I don't enjoy annoying the pants off most of the school, but hanging around with Malfoy this early in the morning might be enough to upset my stomach," Ginny said, pulling a clean shirt and jeans out of her trunk.
"Come off it, he's been loads better since this team started," Pavarti insisted. "In fact," she added, with a conspiratorial air, "I've noticed him and Jools joking around quite a lot."
"You think so?" Ginny asked, without much interest. Although she'd had her suspicions about this herself, she didn't really care too much if they were. Her only feeling about it was that it was inappropriate for Malfoy to mess about romantically with his team.
"Oh, yeah," Pavarti went on. "Mione noticed it, too. She didn't like it, though. Looked quite put out, actually, and started ranting about propriety and so on." She rolled her eyes. "I thought she'd really loosened up over the past couple of months. Ah, well. See you at breakfast, then."
And she tripped out, humming a little.
Ginny just stared after her, shaking her head.
)BW(
Although it was very much a part of his nature to wreak as much havoc as possible, Draco decided not to make a scene today by holding the team meeting in a public place. He had two good reasons for his restraint – the first was that he didn't need do-gooders like Weasley and Potter and McMillan charging in every two seconds to make sure he wasn't actually converting his girls to the "dark side." The other was that their stratagems and practices were becoming fairly personalized and Draco didn't want the House teams borrowing methods that were fairly unique and created from a fresh perspective. The girls saw things that the boys Draco had worked with had never dreamed of before. They relied far more on teamwork, integrating Beater and Chaser strategy in wholly original ways. There was even some Beater/Seeker crossover that Millicent, Johnson, and McDonald had begun to develop from several techniques in their Quidditch Through the Ages book.
So he told Jools to have them all meet him in the lockers, the one place he was sure none of the other team captains (or any other interfering prats) would dare to follow. And there he sat – alone – trying to come up with a "to do" list for himself and the captains so that their team might actually be ready for their first match.
Whenever that might be.
Draco sighed. He supposed that if they kept up their current number of weekly practices, they would pull through, particularly if Dumbledore arranged for them to have regularly scheduled practices. The only fly in the potion was that he suddenly had several key players out of the game.
Weasley, the third link in his star Chaser set, for a start . . .
"Sulking, coach?"
Draco smirked.
"I've got better things to do, Boot," he retorted as the tall, lanky Ravenclaw came sauntering in and took a seat on the bench across from him.
"Such as?" she asked, leaning forward and trying to catch a glimpse of his as-yet itemless "to do" list.
"Such as trying to figure out how the hell we're going to be ready for our first match," Draco said, pulling the blank sheet of parchment away.
"We will be," Jools said, her voice suddenly cooling. She leaned back against a locker. "Enough of us will still be in the game."
"Will you?" he asked, with a pointed look.
Jools grinned.
"Took your advice and wrote home yesterday," she said.
"And . . .?" Draco prompted.
"Told my mum to shove it – I'm of age and I'm playing whether she likes it or not. Either she accepts it, or disowns me." Her expression indicated to Draco that there wasn't much fear of the latter.
Concealing a sigh of relief that he had one of his best players back, he gave her a smirk.
"Good – at least one of my girls has some nerve."
"What're you on about? We're all tough!" she said indignantly, nudging his foot with her own playfully.
"You're all right," he admitted, nudging back and letting his smirk slip into an almost-smile. Of all the girls on the team from other Houses, Jools was the one he could tolerate the easiest.
"All right at what?"
Draco and Jools turned to see Granger, McDonald, Patil Sr., and Ginny come in. All but Ginny were clad in practice gear. Ginny looked as though she was still in her jimjams and had only just crawled out of bed. She had a funny mixture of anticipation and sulkiness on her pretty face and Granger kept shooting her sympathetic looks.
Patil wasn't looking too well, either, Draco noted.
"You're a sorry lot this morning," was his greeting.
"You would be, too, if your twin who's five times smarter than you was out for your blood," Pavarti retorted.
"What happened?" Jools asked, sitting up and looked interested. Draco vaguely recalled that Pavarti and Patrice's other sister, Padma, was in Ravenclaw, too. He also remembered that Jools herself had a twin, Terry, who was Ravenclaw Quidditch captain.
"Oh, she was going on about House loyalty and she though I had more Gryffindor pride and bollocks like that," Pavarti snorted. She looked irritated, rather than upset. "Anyway, I told her that Mum and Dad were fine with me and Patrice playing and then she turned round and went off on Patrice."
"What happened then?" Granger asked.
Pavarti grinned darkly.
"Patrice sucked it up and told Padma to preach at someone who cared," she said, looking satisfied. "Padma's never been able to boss Patrice."
One by one the rest of the team drifted in. Draco noticed that his Slytherin housemates were looking less volatile and more morose than usual. He knew Jessica and Ananda were still sulking, but Millicent and Pansy were using their sullen expressions as a mask for the deep thought going on. They had major decisions to make and like the deliberate thinkers they were they considering every consequence one way or another.
When at last the entire team was assembled, Draco called, "All right, you dismal lot. Shut up so we can get down to business."
"Come on, girls, settle!" Jools called. Bones was quieting some of the younger girls toward the back.
"Right, then," Draco said. "Two items of business this morning before we get in a nice, long practice. First – Dumbledore wants our mascot and colors as soon as possible, so we're going to decide on them now. I could have just decided on them on my own, but certain people thought you lot should have a say, as well. Any ideas?" He gave Bones a pointed look. It had been she, after all, who had insisted that colors and mascot be a team consensus.
"Whatever our mascot is, it should reflect us as women," Granger spoke up immediately.
There was a general murmur of accent.
"And it should be a powerful creature," Patil Jr. put in. "Like a siren or a mermaid or something."
"It should be a dark creature," Millicent put in with a crooked smile. "I mean, this whole team thing is a bit wicked, isn't it?"
The girls sniggered, some more forcefully than others.
"What about a pixie?" Betina Johnson asked timidly.
"Naw, those aren't dangerous," McDonald said.
"Only the most annoying creatures alive," Granger murmured, and she and Patil Sr. exchanged reminiscent smiles.
"How about a Nundu?" Adrienne Abbot suggested.
"What's that?" Jessica asked, looking interested. Being only in second year, she had not yet had Care of Magical Creatures.
"It's probably the most dangerous magical creature in the world," Granger piped up. Pansy let out an audible, rude groan, but Granger ignored her and carried on. "It's an east African cat, a lot like a leopard but much larger. It moves silently and spreads virulent disease via its toxic breath."
"Now that we've had our magical creature lesson for today," Millicent broke in. Granger blushed and glared at her. "I think Abbot has a good idea."
"I like it, too," Ananda agreed, rather surprising Draco. Ananda rarely agreed with anyone, least of all a Ravenclaw.
"It's perfect," Adrienne's sister Hannah agreed. Adrienne beamed at her.
"And our motto can be 'Silent but Deadly,'" Ginny piped up sarcastically.
Everyone laughed.
"Fine," Draco called over the noise. It was bad that he was already irritated with Weasley and they hadn't been in the same room ten minutes. "All in favor of a Nundu for our mascot?"
Every hand went up.
"That was easy," Bones said, looking surprised.
"And what colors will we have?" Betina Johnson asked, looking excited.
"We can't have gold, red, silver, green, black, yellow, blue, or orange," Granger listed.
"Why?" Patrice Patil asked curiously.
"Because those colors already belong to the House teams," Jessica said, rolling her eyes. "Duh."
"Well, we still have purple and pink," Ginny pointed out.
"Oh, well spotted, Weasley," Pansy said with a snort. "The tackiest colors in the universe."
"We should use different shades, couldn't we?" Patil Sr. pointed out. "I mean, pale blue and gray, or something."
Draco bit down a snort. One thing the Patil sisters could always be counted on to know was fashion. The other girls were nodding and looking thoughtful.
"I suppose we could do gray and deep purple," Granger offered, for once looking completely out of her sphere. It was a satisfying thing for Draco to see.
"How wicked would this be?" Ginny spoke up suddenly. "What if we took the prominent colors from all four Houses?"
"Like, you mean, red, black, blue, and green?" Millicent asked, looking interested.
"Sure," Ginny nodded. "Not everyone would get it, but we do represent to combination of all four Houses working together. Why not let our team colors represent that, in a way?" She glanced at Draco. "There's no rule saying we can't use more than two colors, is there?"
"Not that I know of," he said. Frowning, he added, "Do red, black, blue, and green really match, though?"
A moment of silent, then –
"Well, there's also gold, silver, yellow, and orange," Bones said doubtfully.
Another few minutes of discussion followed, before the colors were finally decided upon.
"So unless there's an objection," Draco said, consulting his parchment. "Our mascot is the Nundu and our colors are gold, silver, black, and blue." Everyone nodded, although as Ginny pointed out, "Those are pretty dramatic colors."
"So I'll take these to the headmaster this afternoon and with any luck, we'll have our gear and brooms in good time for the match."
"What're our uniforms going to look like?" Pavarti Patil asked, leaning forward.
"I want all dragonhide, but I'm not sure Dumbledore's up for that," Draco said, smirking when Granger's mouth fell open. "You'll look good and the uniforms will last for a while. Durable, you know."
"What sort of brooms are we getting?" Adrienne Abbot asked curiously.
"Dunno," Draco said, eyeing her speculatively. "I'd say you lot rate at least Nimbus 2000s." The excited chatter broke out again. No wonder, for any newer model Nimbus was better than your average, up-to-date broom from almost any other company. They had excellent balance, superb cushioning charms, and better than average acceleration capabilities.
"Shut it! I'm not through yet." He would go hoarse if he had to continue yelling over them all the bloody time.
"Come on, girls, steady on," Jools added loudly. "We've still got practice, you know."
"That's the other thing," Draco said once the noise level had dropped sufficiently. "I need to know – honest answers, now – which of you got letters from home banning you from playing on this team."
Slowly, hands began to rise into the air. Jessica, Ananda, Millicent, and Pansy were the first, looking mutinous and put out. Draco had already begun to jot down their names when Ginny and Jools' joined those of the Slytherins.
"So by my reckoning, we've still got enough girls to make up a team," Draco said, when all names had been officially recorded.
A murmur of accent was his answer.
"I know some of you're thinking of challenging your parents, and I'll remind you now: you are only allowed to do this if you are of age." Draco glared around at them all, furious that he had to have this conversation. "And I'm not saying this lightly – make sure you are ready to face the consequences if you do go against your parents' wishes. I know that things could turn nasty for some of you."
There was a moment of tense silence.
"If there's nothing else, we'd best get practicing," Bones piped up at last.
"Get in the air – and the rest of you head for the bleachers!" Draco barked. "You'll be watching their strategy and helping make adjustments."
The girls scattered, the captains giving directions and keeping them from dawdling. Ginny headed immediately for the door to the pitch, her face rather pinched. Granger made a move to follow, but Patil Sr. caught her arm and shook her head. Millicent, Pansy, Jessica, and Ananda followed Ginny, talking in low voices. Jools was changing next to her locker, looking thoroughly determined to play her best ever that day. Draco glanced around the lockers to make sure the others were moving quickly before jogging out after the exiles.
"Got another letter from home today," Pansy was saying.
"What, the first one wasn't enlightening enough?" Millicent snorted.
"What'd it say?" Ginny asked curiously, moving a bit closer.
"What else?" Pansy rolled her eyes. "My parents were – 'concerned', is the word they used – that I hadn't sent my broom home yet."
"Do it, Pans," Draco said sharply, drawing level with the girls. "Don't give them any reason to be hard on you."
"Why? They'll do whatever they like," Pansy snapped. "Anyway –" she looked away suddenly.
"What?" Jessica asked.
"Well, I might stick with the team, mightn't I?" she said loudly.
"Pans . . ." Millicent began.
"Good for you!" Ginny said.
The Slytherins stopped collectively and stared at her.
"What?" she demanded. "Why shouldn't she? She's brilliant and she loves it and if she keeps on she could play for England, even if our little team doesn't get off the ground!"
They continued to stare at her. Pansy looked cautious, as though expect Ginny to end with a "having said all that . . ."
"No offense, Weasley, but I don't think you get it," Millicent said, though to her credit she kept the condescension in her voice to a minimum.
"What? What don't I get?" Ginny snapped, rounding her angrily. "That some of your parents are in with You-Know-Who and that they can disown you and that you've all had abusive childhoods? Yeah – heard it already. So what? You're going keep letting your parents run your lives. You two," she indicated Pansy and Millicent, "are adults now. Time to start choosing for yourselves. And this isn't really a huge decision compared to some decisions you may have to make in the near future. Hell, you have the opportunity to play! What the hell are you standing here for?"
Draco felt unwillingly impressed with her speech. He could tell she had had a similar impression on Pansy. Ananda and Jessica looked shocked that she had dared to speak that way to or in the presents of two of the most feared students in the school. Millicent looked vaguely insulted, as though Ginny didn't have any idea what she was talking about.
She was doing that, Draco had to admit, but at the same time she had made some very good points. This was a relatively small decision. He knew what she meant. The war would force all of them to decide between their blood and their ideals. What Ginny probably didn't understand was that the decision to play on this team was the first step along a dangerous path. It was the first defiance – once that defiance was expressed there was no turning back.
"For a twit, you make a lot of sense, Weasley," Pansy said slowly, eyeing the redhead carefully. She turned her gaze on Draco as the sounds of the rest of the team trickling onto the field began behind them.
Draco followed the girls into the stands and took a seat between Ginny and Ananda. His cousin was still watching Ginny, her expression unreadable.
Ginny herself looked rather smug.
"Mill's got a point, you know," he murmured to her. He watched Jools and Bones ordering the team into warm-ups. "You really don't understand what their decisions means to their futures."
"Maybe not," Ginny said. "But I know I'm right – you lot can keep letting someone else run your life or you can take your life and your grades and do like us normal, poor-as-dirt folk do and eke out a life in the regular world. Demeaning, perhaps, but definitely better than what you're doing now."
"And what's that?" Draco asked, feeling the beginnings of anger in his gut. She really had no idea –
"Choosing what's easy, instead of what's right," she said quietly. "Believe it or not, everyone has to make that choice, not just you Slytherins."
Draco was suddenly furious with her.
"You're far too innocent to be telling us how to deal with our families, Weasley," he snapped, keeping his voice down but injecting some venom into it.
"Oh, right," she scoffed. "I live with the perfect family and I have perfect little Gryffie friends and no one I know has ever had my family turn on me."
"One brother –" Draco began.
"And you think that's not a big deal?" she snarled, sitting up straighter and turning to look his straight in the eye. She took a deep breath. "Guess what my choice was, Malfoy. Just guess."
She turned away and flopped back into her chair, ignoring Jessica, Ananda, Pansy, and Millicent, who were all staring at her.
"So what?" he snapped, not caring if the others heard. "You had family to fall back on. Anyway, you've got brothers coming out your ears –"
Ginny's hand suddenly flew and Draco only just caught it before it hit his face. Draco turned in his seat to tell her off, but stopped dead at the look on her face. He saw rage, but he also saw a flicker of something else – something very familiar.
"Here's the difference, Malfoy," she said, her voice shaking. "I, unlike you, have feelings. As far as I'm concerned, my brother died the day he left our family. My brother disowned me. And every day that my family fights You-Know-Who, the odds increase that another one will die for real. I risk losing my family every single day. And I do it because it is right. But do you think it's easy? You think that just because my family loves me that that protects me from being hurt by them? As far as I can tell, I stand to lose a lot more than you by making the right choice."
She jumped to her feet and stormed out of the stands, stomping down the stairs and slamming open the gate that led onto the pitch. At the gate she turned and glared up at him. By this time the entire team had stopped practice to watch her in amazement.
"By the way, Malfoy," she shouted up to him. "What did your parents say about the team? When can we expect a new coach?"
She whirled away and jogged across the pitch, heading for the castle. Draco watched her leave, torn between shock and fury. At last, he noticed his team staring stupidly at him.
"Back to work!" he snarled at them. "We've got a match to prepare for!"
)BW(
Ginny actually snarled at a couple of passing first-years, her anger knowing no bounds as she slammed up the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower. If she could just calm down for a moment . . . perhaps if she could stop seeing red . . .
The impending collision was painful and almost knocked Ginny back down the stairs.
"Bloody hell!" two voices said simultaneously. Two bodies tumbled backward and both reached out to each other to keep from falling. Ginny fumbled with the hand as it caught hers and pulled herself upright.
Harry stared back, looking as angry, if slightly more composed.
"Sorry, Gin," he muttered, moving as though to sidestep her. She tried to overt her face, but he did a double take a moment later and she knew she had blown it.
"Hey – you all right?" he asked, stepping back in front of her and looking carefully down at her face, which probably betrayed her current feelings of brutality and violence. His own expression rapidly changed from irate to concerned.
"Fine!" she snapped, moving to step around him.
"Whoa, there!" he said, gripping her shoulders and keeping her still. She almost bit the hand resting near her right collarbone, and restrained herself with difficulty.
"Harry, now is really not the time," she ground out, trying to pull herself out of his grip.
"I'd say it is!" he said, sounding genuinely concerned, rather than annoyed by her ire. This did nothing to lessen it.
"Let go!" she said, yanking rather more insistently backward.
"Not until you at least settle down before you do yourself an injury!" he insisted doggedly. "My god, Gin, you nearly killed me – never mind almost knocking yourself back down the stairs."
"You helped!" she said, trembling with frustration.
"Settle down," he ordered, in the tone that she always thought of as his Hero of the Wizarding World voice. Once upon a time, it had awed her and made her swoon. A time later, it had inspired respect and loyalty. Now it made her want to hit him.
"I can be angry if I want to!" she hissed, settling for glowering at him since he wouldn't loosen his grip and he was much stronger than her.
"Sure – but you're not going to destroy half the castle in the process," he said with almost intimidating firmness. "Come on now, Gin – you know how much that helped me two years ago."
Ginny would never, ever forget her fourth year, a majority of which Harry had spent in a towering fury, both at Hogwarts and 12 Grimmauld Place. She remembered his frequent tantrums, audible even over the screeching of Mrs. Black. She remembered the sulking and the sullen expression he had worn up until their tryst to the Ministry. After that he had been quiet and withdrawn; weary, rather than furious; rueful, rather than vengeful.
She never would have expected the Harry from that year to be telling her to settle down.
Without realizing it, she had begun to draw in deep breaths, consciously unclasping her hands. He was absolutely right – she had every right to be angry, but it was wrong to act in anger. Vaguely, she tried to remember what had made her get so upset. It was a bit of a surprise when she realized that she had forgotten in the heat of her fury. She thought for a moment and although blaming Draco was her first impulse, she also realized that it was probably due in some measure to her family and her frustration at being banned from doing something that she so desperately wanted to do.
"That's better," Harry said a few moments later, when her spine had loosened and her breath slowed. His hands dropped and he stuffed them into his pockets. "So – want to talk about it?"
"No – yes – I dunno," she muttered, staring wearily over his right shoulder and feeling her rage simmering. "I'd really like to hit something."
Harry smiled slightly.
"I know that feeling," he said, with a self-deprecating smile. "Another time, then?"
She looked up and him and thought for a moment.
He knows your family – he'll understand, she thought.
But the whole idea of you being trained by Malfoy . . . another part of her brain piped up. You don't want to go rubbing around, do you?
"This about Quidditch with Malfoy?" the all-too-perceptive Harry asked when she didn't immediately respond.
"Yeah," she said, with a sigh, sinking down to sit on the stairs. He joined her silently, clearly waiting for her to elaborate.
"It's only – " she paused, but it came tumbling out anyway. "My parents won't let me play on the team."
"Oh," he said. She noticed that he didn't sound terribly surprised and wasn't looking at her.
"I got the letter yesterday," she said carefully, watching his expression.
"Huh," he said.
"Harry – you didn't know they were going to send a letter, did you?" she asked suspiciously. If he had had anything to do with this . . .
His head whipped around and he stared at her in surprise.
"No!" he said earnestly. "I – well, Ron had mentioned something to me about how your parents weren't too thrilled about you playing for Gryffindor a couple of years ago, but – no, Gin, honestly! I didn't know anything about it."
"Okay," she said, feeling herself relax a bit. She had been worried that he might have written to her parents and told them, with emphasis on how Malfoy was coaching and it wasn't safe. The expression on his face convinced her that he hadn't done, or even considered, any such thing. She had to remember that he wasn't one of her mindlessly overprotective brothers.
"Sorry for jumping on you like that," she said at length. "It's just – well, all of my brothers sent me letters, too, telling me not to get mixed up with Malfoy and that Quidditch was too dangerous, especially playing with Slytherins and . . . well, Ron didn't need to send me a letter, but now he's hacked off at me for losing my temper at him last night . . . anyway, I didn't think you'd've told my parents anything, but . . ."
"Gin," Harry said, sounding a bit hurt. "I may not trust Malfoy, but I trust you. If this is something you want to do and you think Malfoy's in it for good, I'd never try to stop you. It's not my right."
Ginny was touched. It was big of him to support her, even when it meant them playing against each other and her being, more or less, on the side of his enemy. She knew how deeply he loathed Draco and she didn't blame him. Draco was a beast.
"Thanks," was all she said. Impulsively, she leaned over and gave him a hug. He was clearly surprised, but he returned it readily.
"Nothing to thank me for – I'm your friend," he told her firmly.
"Yeah, but I'm playing against Gryffindor and being trained by Malfoy – assuming I can somehow convince my parents to let me play, anyway," she pointed out, hanging onto him and praying he wouldn't suddenly come to his senses and tell her to resign immediately.
"And I don't like it," he said honestly. "But I've seen you when you play Quidditch, Gin. You're fantastic and you deserve more than the Gryffindor team was giving you. I'm sure your parents will – well, they're reasonable and they want what's best for you. Anyway, for my part, making war on Slytherins is sort of counterproductive these days, so I'm trying to tone it down a bit."
"Good for you," she said sincerely, with a squeeze as she pulled back. She paused, but decided to ask anyway. After all, he had been very nice to her a minute ago. "So . . . I noticed you weren't exactly pleased about something when we ran into each other. What's up?"
His face, open and earnest a moment ago, adopted a closed expression.
"Ah, it's nothing," he said quietly, looking down at his hands.
"Sure?" Ginny asked, resting a hand on his arm.
He shrugged.
"Let's just say that making war on Slytherins really hasn't been productive lately," he said cryptically. He glanced sideways at her. "Another time, Gin."
"Sure," she said, feeling a bit concerned, but knowing that with Harry, time and patience were the best antidotes for his melancholy. Even if he didn't talk to her, he would tell Ron or Hermione in the end. That was what was important.
"Well," he said at last, smiling faintly and getting to his feet. "I was on my way to the library to get some DADA stuff done. See you later?"
"Definitely," Ginny said, accepting his hand and pulling herself to her feet. She hesitated, and then gave him another hug. "Sometimes," she told him with feeling, "you're better than all my brothers combined. Stupid prats."
Harry chuckled, gave her a squeeze, and let his arms drop.
"It's because I'm smart enough to be terrified of you when you fly into a temper," he teased.
"See you later, Harry," she called, as he descended the steps.
"Bye, Gin."
Feeling a bit better, smiled a bit to herself and made to head for Gryffindor Tower again.
"Fraternizing with the enemy?"
Ginny paused, turned slowly.
"Zabini," she said carefully.
"Weasley," he acknowledged, stepping off a staircase that descended from the fourth floor and positioning himself directly in front of her intended staircase.
"What do you want?" she demanded, her hands flying to her hips. The good bit was that he wasn't Draco (whose head she wanted to dislocate from his body). The bad bit was that he was a Slytherin with mannerisms very similar to Draco's. Her temple, while temporarily soothed, was still humming expectantly and she wasn't sure what kind of provocation might set it off again.
"Fight with Malfoy?" he asked casually, leaning against a banister and folding his arms.
"None of your business," she retorted. "What do you want?"
"What makes you think I want anything?" he asked. He was teasing and she wasn't amused.
"Either tell me or get out of my way," she said, making an effort to control the volume of her voice.
"Fine," he said, pushing off the banister and coming to stand directly in front of her. "I have a proposition for you."
"Do you?" she said cautiously. Any proposition from a Slytherin would have strings attached. Best not to agree with anything until she knew exactly what she was getting herself into.
Blaise smiled knowingly. Ginny realized that it was only because of that smile that she was still standing here. Blaise Zabini was the only Slytherin she had ever met who smiled genuinely and on a regular basis. It made him seem a bit more sincere than the rest of them. Anyway, he had done a lot for the team. Clearly, he was (at least partially) on her side.
Although you have no idea why he pushed so hard to get the team organized, a quiet voice warned in the back of her mind.
"I do," Blaise answered her question. He paused tactfully. "I understand that you are . . . temporarily unable to practice with the team."
Ginny stiffened and didn't answer.
"Ah," Blaise said with a nod. Ginny suddenly realized that he had only been guessing and wanted to hit herself for giving him his answer so easily. "I assume that's what the fight with Draco was about."
"How did you . . . were you eavesdropping on Harry and I?" she demanded.
He shrugged.
"Well, you were making a lot of noise and I was looking for you anyway," he told her. "I overheard enough."
"Great," she muttered.
"Look, don't worry about it," he said impatiently. "I have an . . . opportunity to offer you."
"What sort of opportunity?"
"Contrary to popular belief, I'm not so bad at Quidditch myself," he said, his words careful and calculating. Typical Slytherin! He went on. "In fact, I practice on my own – just for fun, mind – when there aren't any team practices going on."
Ginny's eyebrows shot up. Blaise shrugged.
"It's good exercise," he reminded her. "I wouldn't look as good as I do if I didn't practice a bit every day."
"Modest, too," Ginny murmured, unable to keep a small smile off her face.
"Why bother? We both know it's true. Anyway, I know that the deal is that you can't practice, compete, or in any way participate in team-related activities – right?"
"Right – so?"
"So – practice with me to keep up until someone knocks some sense into your parents," he said, as though that were the obvious solution.
"Wh – what?" Ginny said, staring at him in amazement. Of all the suggestions she had been expecting, that had definitely been the last.
"What, are you deaf?" he said, looking annoyed. "You need to practice consistently if you want to be able to keep up with the team. If you practice with me, you're not technically practicing with the team at all. What we do during breaks and after classes is our business."
Ginny had the sudden insane urge to laugh at the potential innuendo in his words. She meant to ask him if he realized that he had just propositioned her, but what came out of her mouth instead was, "What's in it for you?"
"Not one to mince words, are you, Weasley?" he said with an approving nod. "Good – you're learning to deal with Slytherins. Might help you deal with Draco someday without flying into a mindless fury."
She opened her mouth indignantly, but he cut her off.
"Don't bother – I've heard how you two battle it out every time you're within earshot of each other," he said, waving a dismissive hand.
"How – forget it, I don't want to know how you're so well informed," she said with a sigh. "But I do still want to know what's in it for you."
He stared down at her thoughtfully, clearly formulating his response carefully.
"I need your help," he told her at length. When he didn't elaborate at all, Ginny cross her arms.
"With what?" she asked skeptically.
"A girl, actually," he said bluntly.
It wasn't the answer she had been expecting – he was full of surprises.
"Who?" was the obvious question.
"I'd prefer to keep that to myself for now," he said simply. "I'll have to tell you eventually, of course, but I'd rather keep the shame to myself for the time being."
"Well – how am I supposed to help, then?" she demanded.
"Simple – you're obviously very familiar with the female psyche, so you're going to help me sort it out," he told her.
"Um –" She thought about it for a moment, but couldn't really see that she had anything to lose in the arrangement. "Okay, sure – I'll try."
His face spit into another of his devastating, thoroughly sincere, and almost-manic grins.
"You're a doll, Weasley," he said, running a hand through his hair. Removing said hand from his head, he glanced at his wristwatch. "Christ, I'm late for detention."
"Why would that bother you?" she wanted to know.
"One is not late for detention with Snape unless one has a death wish," he told her, stepping around her and onto the staircase below.
"Unless one is a Slytherin," she said pointedly.
"Are you kidding? The only difference is that instead of giving me detention for life the way he would for you Gryffs, he'll find the worst possible job he can think of and make me do it for four times the length of time the detention was supposed to last originally."
"Right," Ginny murmured, her face splitting into another small smile. "So – when do we start?"
"Today, if you want," he said. "I practice right after dinner tonight. No one else has booked the pitch then."
"Meet you at seven?"
"Wouldn't miss it." He gave her a decidedly cocky smile before turning and tramping back down the stairs.
She watched him go and then quickly turned and jogged up the steps toward the seventh floor. She had had quite enough encounters with boys for one day.
)BW(
TBC . . . sorry, would have added more D/G goodness, but I wanted my poor readers to FINALLY have a new chapter of this. Lucky for you guys this chapter has been almost done for ages and I needed a quick break from writing WE.
Loves!