Chapter 21
"Checkmate," Ginny declared triumphantly as her black queen proceeded to bash Harry's white king off the chessboard.
"Hey, that's not fair! You tricked me into moving that knight so your queen can get to my king." Harry pouted and Ginny laughed. She had to admit that whereas he did not charm her off her feet or create romantic moments, he did have his amusing side.
The two were sitting by the fireplace in the Gryffindor Common Room. Harry was sitting on his usual plushy chair and lost for the fifth time in a row to Ginny in chess. However, no matter how horrible his chess skills were, he had to admit that his heart wasn't really into it; especially when the embers in the fireplace caught the light of Ginny's hair. The orange light made it seem as though she was engulfed in a fiery halo. His eyes were a lot more interested in watching Ginny chew her luscious bottom lip every time she contemplated a move instead of watching the pieces on the chessboard.
"Harry? Are you falling asleep on me?" Harry's eyes snapped open from its glazed expression while Ginny was waving her hand in his face.
"No, no! I'm awake," he replied quickly, forcing himself to look away from the lines of her breasts that showed through her thin white oxford shirt in the glow of the fireplace.
"You look pretty tired, let's just pack up and go to bed," she suggested and proceeded to fold up the chessboard while waving all the chessmen back into the box.
"If the lassie didn't tell this buffoon they're stopping, I would've gone on strike anyhow," the black bishop commented to the black rook as they were hopping back into the box.
"Aye, I swear his eyes were flyin' to her bosom the entire time," the rook replied, Harry blushed crimson. Ginny's eyes glittered teasingly at his red cheeks.
"Last time we played against the blonde gentleman's ivory pieces, now that was a game. They were vicious but-" the bishop's recounting was cut off by Ginny, who promptly slammed the cover on the box. All signs of amusement and colour were drained from her face.
"Shut up!" she screeched, her breathing shallow and rapid, her hand was trembling.
"Ginny?" he asked slightly in fear. He could literally feel the fury churn in the air around her.
"Goodnight, Harry," she replied with gritted teeth and strode briskly to the staircases to the girls' dormitories.
Harry's longing gaze traced the shape of Ginny's back as her furious steps took her further and further away from him. He still did not know what caused Ginny's burst of tears that night, but she seemed to have recovered the next morning and was her usual cheerful self. She didn't even look as though she spent hours crying the night before, probably with the help of beauty charms. However, odd things seemed to set her off occasionally and she would be moody for the rest of the day but be alright again by the next morning. Nobody seemed to know why she was behaving so oddly and Colin and Hermione routinely shot worried looks in her direction. He wanted to ask her and there were several times where the words were about to get choked out from his mouth but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. He knew she hated to be coddled and she would only blow up fiercely at him if he tried to ask her what was wrong. Besides, it wasn't like he would know what to do even if she told him her problem. Just the image of Ginny screaming at him and crying at the same time was enough to turn his legs into jelly…and this is coming from the same person who has faced Death Eaters and Voldemort.
Collin and Hermione evidently attempted to force the reasons for her mood changes out of her and now it seemed that she was avoiding them. She sat beside Harry for almost every meal and did her homework with him. It wasn't that he minded. Ron somehow got into his head that Harry was involved with Hermione in some way and pretty much was on a rampage to turn The-Boy-Who-Lived into The-Boy-Who-Isn't-Living-Anymore whenever he saw Harry within five metres of Hermione. Hermione, on her part simply avoided Ron at all costs but continued talking to Harry. However, she stiffened up like a Popsicle stick whenever she spotted Ron out of the corner of her eye.
Harry's social life was beginning to feel like those melodramatic soap operas that Aunt Petunia loved so much where all the characters dance around in various relationships and somehow, a twin brother or sister that nobody has ever seen before pops up out of nowhere. The only positive side in this situation that Harry could think of was that he was pretty sure he didn't have a twin and he got the girl…somewhat.
In a sense, he supposed he and Ginny were dating. They spent a lot of time together, been on one (disastrous) date, and have kissed twice. But she never made any sign of acknowledging that he was her boyfriend and they've never kissed since that night when Harry held her in his arms while she cried. She certainly never tried to kiss him and he wasn't going to kiss her especially after last time when she pushed him away. They never did any 'couple-y' things like handholding that all the other Hogwarts couples did. In fact, they rarely made any type of physical contact.
Could it be because Ginny had her heart set on someone else? Was that why she was crying that night on the Halloween Feast? If that this was true, then where exactly did Harry come in?
"Argh!" Draco threw his head back and groaned in frustration as he proceeded to swipe the bats out of his gorilla-like beaters' hands. "Just how hard is it to swing the bloody bat and whack the Bludger?"
Both Crabbe and Goyle cowered under the wrath of their Captain despite the fact that they were a head taller than and at least three times as wide as the blonde boy. Crabbe stood with his lower lip trembling as if he was about to burst out in tears while Goyle looked as if his mind was too busy trying to decipher what Draco was saying to register any emotion.
"Just get out!" he bellowed, his temper rising at the sight of the two pathetic faces in front of him. "Go get Jamieson and Tupper!" he demanded, referring to the two Beaters from last year's team that he kicked out in favour of Crabbe and Goyle when he became the Captain this year.
"Useless! The whole lot of you! Potter's the Captain of the Gryffindor Team this year, if we lose; I am kicking every single one of your arses off the team! Damnit, we are not going to lose to the Gryffindorks this time!" He threw his Nimbus down for added effect as half the team shuddered at his voice.
Tupper and Jamieson arrived with their Quidditch gear and broomsticks. Draco summoned a chalkboard with the flick of his wand and proceeded to explain several manoeuvres and plays he found in the library without acknowledging the Beaters.
"We need to take out Potter. Without him, they can't catch the Snitch and win. Tupper, Jamieson, I don't care how many goals their Chasers are scoring, just track down Potter!"
"What about Ginny Weasley? She was the Seeker on the team when Potter was banned last year," one of the Chasers spoke up.
Ginny, Ginny, what was he to do with her? He didn't even realize they would be playing against each other until now. The sickening image of a Bludger colliding against her slim and graceful body made him nauseous. No, no he didn't feel nauseous at the thought. The thought of any Gryffindor being hit with a Bludger made him ecstatic, especially the little Weasley, at least it should.
"Get Potter and the Weaslette," he finally replied, looking around his team. He suddenly spotted a figure on the far side of the stands; long shimmering red hair, brown caramel eyes…Ginny Weasley.
Grey eyes met brown ones, ice against chocolate, a thousand emotions passed through; their gaze held intensely. Suddenly, the figure of Hermione Granger interrupted the scene. Ginny turned away a second later to acknowledge the older girl and Draco turned back to his team. As much as he did not want to admit it, his traitorous heart was beating rapidly in his chest.
"Watching Malfoy train for the game?" Hermione's voice suddenly broke through the trance of interlocked gazing between Draco and Ginny.
"Don't even say 'I told you so'. Yes, I know, you're right, I'm wrong, okay?" Ginny snapped as she walked briskly through the stands to the staircases.
"I wasn't going to say that-"
"Well if you want to know, Dra-Malfoy turned out to be a bastard, end of story," Ginny explained quickly with her jaw clenched without waiting for Hermione's question. "and don't tell me that's not what you came here to find me for either."
"You make me sound like I'm here for gossip; I'm just worried about you. You've been sulking and avoiding everybody." Hermione sounded genuinely affectionate and Ginny felt slightly bad about snapping at her earlier.
"I know, but I'm fine, there's nothing wrong with me! I'm eating, sleeping, and everything," she insisted.
"Ginny, I'm a witch too, I know about the beauty and glamour spells," Hermione replied with a look that evidently meant she could see through the younger girl's lies.
"What about you? Ron still thinks you're dating Harry and you've been avoiding both of them," Ginny pointed out.
"Don't try to change the topic, and speaking of Harry, what's going on between you two?" Hermione asked, being much too skilled in recognizing signs of someone trying to distract her from a topic, a skill derived from S.P.E.W. discussions with Ron and Harry.
"We're…" Ginny trailed off, no knowing just quite how to answer Hermione.
What was going on between her and Harry? They definitely were not just friends, but there was something that just wasn't…romantic about them. They had nice conversations, she felt good when spending time with him, and his presence made her feel safe. But talking with Harry never made her feel tingly inside. Spending time with Harry never made her feel as though her troubles melted away the way like…never mind.
Ginny took a deep breath to force the image of his blonde hair from her mind and how she felt when he touched her. The mixture of fire and ice that coursed through her veins when his hands were on her breasts, how his lips tasted against hers, and how just the thought of him filled her up with warmth. How long had it been since she had that feeling?
"We are who we are," Ginny finally replied, quickly taking a deep breath to suppress the thoughts of him that suddenly rushed into her mind in the space of the last thirty seconds.
"Harry's my best friend and he's been through a lot in life. I don't know what's going on between you and Malfoy, but I don't want to see Harry get hurt," the brunette said to the redhead.
"I know, Hermione, I know," Ginny replied, suddenly realizing what she was doing with Harry: she was using him.
Ginny could feel her cheeks burn with shame as flames of guilt tormented her. Just what was she doing with Harry?!
The roar of the crowd could be heard loud and clear behind the Slytherin end of the Qudditch Pitch entrance. The team decked in robes of emerald-green stood in a semicircle around their captain. The excitement of the spectators was visible through the cracks of the gate, streaming in stripes of light through the otherwise dark corridor. Draco could feel the sand of the pitch on the tips of his fingers that were not covered by his gloves. Beneath the fine leather that protected his hands, his palms were beginning to perspire.
As much as he didn't want to admit it, this match meant more to him than just the Quidditch Cup or catching the Snitch. Potter got the best of him with little Weaslette, he'll show him this time. This time, he will be the champion.
"Welcome to the first Quidditch Match of the year! Gryffindor versus Slytherin!" the amplified voice of the commentator for this match vibrated throughout the pitch. On cue, the gates opened and it was time for the teams to walk out.
The first rays of sun sliced into Draco's eyes after being in darkness for so long and he resisted the urge to cover them with his hands. He needed to show strength and maintain his composure despite the increasing stickiness of his palms. He was greeted with a multitude of Gryffindor supporters with banners of roaring lions and shouts of 'Go, go, Gryffindor!' He wondered whose brilliant idea it was to have the supporters of the respective teams sit where the players entered. He mentally cursed them for making him endure the sight of supporters for the other team screaming enthusiastically for their team every time he entered the pitch. He could see Potter leading his team into the stadium at the other end of the pitch, his jaw stiffened and his hand tightened around his broom.
Madam Hooch landed gracefully from her customary pre-game lap around the pitch. She stood at the centre of the pitch while Harry and Draco walked towards each other, both trying hard not to show any signs of nervousness. Draco saw a flash of red hair behind Harry; he forced his eyes to focus on glaring at Harry instead.
"I don't want anybody bringing any hard feelings from outside the pitch into the game. Do you all understand?" Madam Hooch's glare rested especially long on Draco.
Murmurs of 'Yes ma'am' sounded from the circle of players, already mounted on their brooms, waiting eagerly for the signal to kick off.
"Captains, shake hands." Harry and Draco stepped towards each other with their backs straight and a look of intense loathing in their eyes. Each tried to maintain his composure while his hand was being crushed.
Madam Hooch flipped open the crate with a flick of her wand, the red Quaffle and the two rattling Bludgers were released into the air. The tiny Golden Snitch was released and the game began with green and red blurs streaking into the air. Draco felt the familiar exhilarating whoosh in his chest as he ascended higher and higher on his broom. His eyes squinted and scanned the field for signs of a golden streak: so far there was none.
"Gryffindor in possession of the Quaffle, smooth past between Fleming and Ginny Weasley," the commentator, (who Draco guessed was Keating from Hufflepuff) noted.
Draco's heart couldn't help pumping faster at the mention of Ginny Weasley. He saw Harry dip his broom into a steep dive out of the corner of his eye. Draco didn't care whether or not he really spotted the Snitch, but he wasn't going to take the chances of Potter with the Snitch in his hand grinning victoriously while he hovered in mid-air like an idiot on the other side of the pitch. Draco pulled on his broom to accelerate to where Harry was and both the Slytherin and Gryffindor spectators seemed to be holding their breath.
"It seems that the Snitch has been sight! Potter's plunging into a steep dive and Malfoy is rapidly following! Is Potter feinting? He seems to be pulling out of his dive, ohh nasty situation there for Malfoy!" Keating noted excitedly, not without a hint of rejoice on the observation of Draco's predicament.
Draco gave Harry the finger as he managed to barely pull out of the dive in one piece with the sand from the pitch at the tip of his broom. Harry glared back and Draco would have given Keating the finger if not for fear that the commentator would actually note on the microphone that 'the Slytherin Seeker is currently making an obscene gesture to the commentator'. He doubted that McGonagall or Hooch would let him get away with that.
"Ginny Weasley scores, 10-0 for Gryffindor!" Loud cheers erupted from the Gryffindor supporters. "Slytherin now in possession."
Draco did a couple of laps around the pitch, diverting from his path only to avoid Bludgers, trying to spot signs of something golden or sparkly. A spiralling manoeuvre by Daphne Greengrass of Slytherin with the Quaffle nearly knocked him off is broom when he thought the golden logo on her broom was the Snitch.
"Greengrass attempts to score on Gryffindor, excellent block by Ronald Weasley. She catches the Quaffle again, going for rebound, perhaps? Oh, she shoots, she scores! The game is now tied 10-10, no sign of the Snitch yet."
He saw Potter fly past out of the corner of his eye, why was he still in one piece when he ordered his Beaters to aim only for Potter?
"Gryffindor now in possession, Tudor's just knocking all the Slytherins off their broom with that Quaffle in his hand. He scores! 20-10 to Gryffindor," Keating noted gleefully, "Greengrass passes the Quaffle to Stuart, it's been intercepted by Ginny Weasley! She scores again! 30-10 to Gryffindor!"
Gryffindor's score elevated higher still while Slytherin remained with only one goal. Draco, and the rest of the team for that matter was getting desperate. The Chasers were beginning to fly erratically in the paths of the Gryffindor Chasers in hopes that they can steal the Quaffle while the Gryffindors were trying to dodge them. The Beaters were slamming the Bludgers at anything resembling a player and Draco himself narrowly avoided being hit.
"Ginny Weasley scores yet again! 70-10 to Gryffindor, she's on fire today, isn't she?" Draco was sure that 'on fire' had other implications to it and felt himself more annoyed with Keating than he already was.
Just where the bloody hell was that Snitch? The anticipation for the shiny object and the flash of her hair out of the corner of his eye every few seconds was making his emotions explode inside of him left, right, and centre. His body was damp with sweat and he felt as though he lost his ability to think clearly with the increasingly louder cheers of 'Go, go Gryffindor!' and the Bludgers flying at him every couple of seconds combined with the flashbacks of all the Quidditch matches he ever lost to Gryffindor in the past. He felt as if he didn't feel the Snitch in his hand by the end of the match, he would go insane.
Suddenly, a flash of gold winked at Draco from the Ravenclaw stands on the other side of the pitch. He wasn't sure if Harry spotted it but he quickly accelerated, his mind already picturing the victory celebrations in the Common Room later on.
"Malfoy seems to have spotted the Snitch and Potter's catching on! But will he be the one to catch the Snitch so to speak…" Keating's commentary was absolutely irritating with the little 'jokes'. He really needed to remember to stuff this Hufflepuff in an empty suit of knight's armour the next time he saw him in the corridors. He pushed his broom to go even faster and soon the commentary was drowned out by the whistling of the wind.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Harry's messy black hair and his body pressed down against his broom to reduce air resistance and push his Firebolt to move quicker. Draco saw a Bludger barrelling at the two of them in full speed and quickly shifted his broom to the right while Harry did the same to the left. Maybe he slowed down while shifting his broom or the wind conditions were just right, but for some reason, Draco heard a scream from a very familiar voice behind him. He turned around instinctively and saw Ginny falling off of her broom. Her slender form fluttered in the air like a rag doll while the rogue Bludger slammed past her in search of another victim. Draco's mind leapt to his beating heart and all thoughts of the Snitch and winning were forgotten. All he knew was that Ginny was falling and he needed to save her, to catch her and feel her in his arms.
He suddenly remembered how her lips tasted when they first kissed, how beautiful her naked body was when basked in the moonlight…he felt as if he had been hit by the Bludger with the force of the memories barrelled back at him. He pulled his broom into a dive and streaked after Ginny, praying to whichever god or goddesses there were out there that his Nimbus would not fail him at a time like this. More images of times they had spent together kept flashing in his mind as he urged his broom to fly faster still.
As Ginny was about thirty feet from the ground, Draco was finally close enough to let go on one arm and grab Ginny by the shoulders. Just as he came in contact with her body, a Bludger crashed into his hip and he could feel his broom slipping away from him, while the ground was rushing up to greet his body, he thought only of shielding Ginny's body with his own before he slipped into unconsciousness with a heavy thud.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the pitch, Harry Potter watched with the fluttering Snitch in his hand. As soon as his fingers touched the golden ball and the crowd's cheering did not match the euphoria he felt, he knew something was wrong. Rather than the usual whooping, all he heard was concerned murmurs streaming through the crowd like a tidal wave. As he saw Ginny's beautiful form on the ground protected by Malfoy's body, all the pieces of the puzzle clicked into place. Harry may have caught the Snitch, but it was Malfoy who abandoned the Snitch for something more important, it was he who really was victorious.
For once in his life, Harry Potter wished he had not caught the Snitch.