"Harry?" Someone was talking to him, someone very far away. Something touched his face and he reflexively tried to push it away. He groaned as pain shot up his arm into his shoulder.
"Give him air!" shouted another voice. "Get back. He's moving. He'll be fine. Just got the wind knocked out of him."
"Harry!" The voice above him was insistent.
"Oh, bludgers!" exclaimed someone else. Harry finally found his breath again, inhaling sharply then instinctively trying to roll over on his side and push himself up.
"Ooof!" He had made it to his side but his attempt to put weight on his arm had not gone off well.
"It's broken again," sighed the first voice, which he now recognized as Ginny's. She supported him as Ron and Wood pushed him to a seated position from behind.
"What did you go and do the Potter Stall for, Harry?" grimaced Charlie from somewhere in the throng of people around him. "This is only practice for Merlin's sake. No need to show off here!" Harry's eyes were beginning to focus again and he was fairly sure there weren't this many people on the team. Where had all the extra people come from?
"Instinct," he said at last. "Not showing off . . .Ouch!"
"Take him to the hospital wing," suggested Angelina from somewhere behind him. "We've got another practice this afternoon."
"Where's Lockhart when you need him?" said George.
"No . . ." Harry tried to hold his arm against him. He was beginning to think his shoulder was dislocated too. Then there was that annoying pain square in the middle of his back where Ginny's broom had initially tried to impale him…. Merlin was her broom fast! What was she doing with such a fast broom?
"Thrilling!" said a new voice as Fred and George hauled Harry to his feet, supporting him on either side. "What a show! Haven't seen anything like that at Hogwarts before, to be sure!"
"Hello, Ludo," said Harry rather quietly as the Head of the Magical Games department approached him with his arm outstretched. "Excuse me if I don't shake your hand."
Bagman dropped his hand, only momentarily chagrinned.
"Got it all on film!" he exclaimed. "I was sitting in the press box myself when you started your dive. Never saw you bowled over by a female seeker before, Potter."
Harry stared at Bagman in disbelief. He was standing on the Quidditch Pitch with a bloody nose and a broken arm and Bagman was ribbing him about being smashed into by a girl! And since when had there been a press box at Hogwarts?
"Come on Harry," said Ginny, shooting Bagman the evil eye. "Let's get you up to Madam Pomfrey. You'll need to rest up before afternoon practice."
A few random flashes went off and the crowd cheered as Harry left the field, still supported by the twins, with Ginny leading the way carrying both her broom and Harry's.
Well-wishing students called out to them as they passed.
"Great dismount, Professor Potter!"
"Fantastic flying!"
Madam Pomfrey tutted over him as was expected, telling them all that they were much too old for this sort of thing and really should pay more attention to their health and well-being. Ginny waited with Harry while the twins returned to finish out practice. Madam Pomfrey, with her years of practice with broken bones, had Harry's arm repaired and shoulder re-located in a snap.
"Any more complaints?" she asked as she moved his arm around and he satisfied her by not screaming in pain.
"Well..." he began, glancing at Ginny.
"What?" said Ginny, narrowing her eyes at Harry. He thought that was quite funny and tried to hide a smile.
"Yes, Mr. Potter?" said Madam Pomfrey.
"Well, it's my back—where Ginny's broom tried to skewer me. Could you do something for the bruising, as long as I'm here anyway?"
"Of course, of course. Kindly remove your shirt and I'll see to it right away."
"You sure you want to see this?" asked Harry as he wiggled his arms out of his pullover and began to pull it slowly over his head, wincing as he did so.
He had realized the double entendre of his words at the precise moment his shirt had covered his face. So he had no way of seeing the surprised look on Ginny's face, nor her silent assessment as his well-formed stomach and chest appeared.
"Merlin's beard!" exclaimed Madam Pomfrey. Ginny hurried around the bed to get a look at Harry's back.
"Oh bludgers!" she exclaimed. "You've got a knot on your back the size of an orange, Harry!"
Madam Pomfrey made him lie in bed for another hour before she released him and pronounced him fit to practice in the afternoon. He wanted to remind her that he wasn't a student anymore and could make his own self-assessments, but something in her nature prevented him from stepping in. After all, she seemed very concerned about him. She had been what amounted to his personal physician for all his years at Hogwarts. She'd been there for him at the end, just after the scene depicted so eloquently by Dean Thomas, taking him into her already weary arms and soothing away the burns and the cuts before sending him into a blissful, dreamless sleep.
It was almost lunch time when she finally let him leave the ward. Ginny had waited patiently on a chair at his bedside, chatting amiably with him as he tried not to focus on the freckles on the bridge of her nose.
Sister sister sister! he kept reminding himself. She's Ron's sister, practically my sister. I've never thought of her like that before…. Still, when Madam Pomfrey allowed him to get up, he reached out for Ginny's hand and she helped him stand. She then helped him put on his pullover and adjusted it, reaching up instinctively to smooth his mussed hair back down.
Her hand paused as it touched his hair. He was eyeing her strangely, staring down at her with an odd look in his wide green eyes. She recovered quickly and brushed some imaginary grass out of his hair.
"There, all better," she said with a brightness that didn't quite match the darkness in her eyes.
In answer, he enveloped her in his arms and gave her a hug that started out as quite brotherly in intent but lasted a few seconds too long to remain in that category. "Thanks, Ginny," he whispered before he ended the hug, but not before hearing her sharp intake of breath. He must have imagined it. He must have.
They went down to the Great Hall for lunch. The Ravenclaw Alumni Quidditch team had the Pitch at 11:30, and Harry was surprised to run into Cho Chang in the atrium. She was on the arm of a burly wizard he didn't recognize, but she greeted him warmly and extended her hand to Ginny.
"I didn't realize you two were together," she said with a big smile. "I guess Witch Weekly will have to get itself another most eligible bachelor now!" She turned away before they could set her straight and as she disappeared out the front doors, they turned to each other.
"You know she's a reporter for the Prophet, don't you?" asked Harry.
Ginny hit her forehead with the palm of her hand.
"Well go tell her then, Harry!" she said, pushing him toward the door almost frantically.
A devilish grin spread over his face.
"No," he said firmly. "I rather like it this way. Let's see how fast it travels. My guess is that by Monday your mum will read about Harry Potter's new love in the morning Prophet."
For some reason, Ginny was not amused. She hurried after Cho and stopped her just outside the castle doors. Harry followed, curious. What had gotten Ginny so riled up?
"…just very good friends. I'm actually seeing someone in Paris where I've been working for five years . . . .wouldn't want Franc to read about me in the Prophet…."
When Ginny rejoined him a moment later, he looked at her curiously.
"Seeing someone in Paris, eh?"
"You know I said that to put her off, Harry," said Ginny with a sigh.
"Why? Don't want your name in the paper as the girl who just knocked me unconscious so she'd get to see me with my shirt off?"
"If you think that's why I . . I . . . you're incorrigible!" she exclaimed, noticing the gleam in his eyes. "You're teasing me, Harry! I am not a little girl anymore!"
A blaze of Gryffindor courage rose in him. He looked at her appraisingly.
"I noticed."
They locked eyes.
His hand came up to rest on her side. "And you're not really my little sister."
"Good thing, that," she said, looking away from him and down at the floor, a pretty blush rising on her face.
But the conversation was destined to stop there, for the front doors were flung open as the Gryffindor Alumni Quidditch team pounded in, followed and surrounded by the Gryffindor students.
"Harry! All put back together, I take?" exclaimed Angelina.
"Get a few hours rest now," said Charlie, immediately taking in the rather surprised look on both his sister's and Harry's faces. "We'll be scrimmaging with the Gryffindor school team at 4 p.m."
"Oliver is our king, Oliver is our king, He did not let the Quaffle in, Oliver is our king!" sang the Gryffindors. They had tried to carry him back to school on their shoulders, as was customary after a win, but he was a large, burly man. Instead, one of the 7th years had put a rather complicated weightlessness charm on him, and they were pulling him around on a rope as if he were a large parade balloon. Oddly, he seemed to be enjoying the attention.
The Gryffindor alumni took their place at the end of the Gryffindor table, with Harry explaining how the seating arrangements had changed since their days at Hogwarts. He had found himself sitting directly across from Ginny, and could stare at her freely, as she had been drawn into a conversation on Chasing with Oliver Mason and Allie Bell.
"Hello? Harry?" Ron, who was sitting two places down from Ginny, stared intently at his friend. "Quit staring at Ginny like that. You're giving me the jeebies."
Instantly, Fred and George were on it.
"Staring at Gin-Gin again, eh?" said George.
"Ickle Ginny-kins is all grown up, isn't she Harry?" whispered Fred.
Harry glared malevolently at Fred and George and was mercifully saved by the sudden appearance of a veritable feast on the table in front of them.
"Yes!" exclaimed Ron, reaching for a turkey leg. Even Fred and George were temporarily distracted by the sheer quantity of food. The team was soon filling their plates and talking excitedly.
"I feel 17 again," said Tonks with her mouth full. She grinned at Harry. "And I'm not that much older than you, Mr. Potter, so wipe that smirk off your face!"
"Heck, Tonks, you look 17 again," said Fred. Tonks, a metamorphagus, was sporting longish pink hair and a cute button nose.
The afternoon scrimmage was, by far, the most fun Harry had ever had on the Quidditch Pitch. The Gryffindor House team made up in daring what they lacked in experience and finesse. Their Seeker, a fifth-year boy named Zach Carson, unabashedly settled on a strategy of tailing Harry wherever he went. Another large crowd had gathered to watch the round and cheered vehemently for the younger team. Cheering or not, the alums were ahead 170-60 when Harry caught the snitch forty-five minutes into the scrimmage.
An hour and a half later, they gathered in the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade for an after-match drink.
"First round's on me!" exclaimed Wood and a few minutes later, a variety of drinks, from Butterbeer to Fire Whiskey to something pink with a little paper umbrella, were spread around the table.
As the drinks were downed, the group scooted over to make room for the occasional faculty member who joined them. Abeforth Dumbledore was the first to appear, squeezing in between Fred and George. Madam Hooch, the Quidditch referee, joined them next. By the time they had started their third round, the group of ten had expanded to 16.
Harry spent most of the evening listening to his friends, new and old, and drinking whatever landed in front of him. He had a perpetual smile on his face and tried his best not to sit there smiling stupidly at Ginny. He thought he caught her smiling back at him more than once, and when they finally called it quits and the visitors queued up to floo back to their homes, he gave her an awkward hug.
"It was good seeing you today, Harry," she said. "Next week then?"
He swore he saw her wink as she disappeared in the surge of green flames.
