Disclaimer: Check the past twenty-eight chapters.
Warnings: Et cetera, et cetera...
A/N: New chapter, because I finally found time to write by procrastinating from daunting school projects that will totally come back to bit me in the end. Ah well.
Chapter29: Quoth the Raven
"So basically, a lot of words for 'kick their asses'?"
Harry snorted at Yusuke's comment. "Yeah, I s'pose that's the gist of it, but you make it sound so easy."
"That's 'cause it is." McCragge's voice wafted over to him as Harry shoved his hand into his arm guard and donned his Quidditch robes. "We go out there, play good, and bring home the cup."
"If you want to think of it that way," Ginny quipped. "Rodgers got sick and they've replaced him with Botan, and people are saying she's a pretty good flier, more than decent for a Chaser."
They were assembled in the locker-room, the booming cheers and cries of the stands outside bombarding the walls and deafening their ears. Whatever anxious dread that has possessed the teams at breakfast had given way to nervous excitement.
The final match of the year, Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw, had inspired a sort of fierce rivalry between the houses, neither of which had any intention of leaving the pitch defeated. Harry had had a hard time booking the field for practice, considering that Professor Flitwick had become unusually generous with reserving it for Ravenclaw—an open act of war.
The competitiveness had reached ridiculous levels: it was rumored that a Ravenclaw spiked Rodgers's potion juice with dried doxy droppings simply to make way for a better player. Evidently, someone had seen Botan on one of her joy-flies and had decided that she would be an invaluable asset.
That wasn't to say that things hadn't turned nasty for Gryffindor players, because they had. Slytherins had apparently decided to side with anyone against Gryffindor, and had taken to cursing them in the halls on the way to classes. It hadn't worked so well for Urquhart though; he'd attempted to hex Hiei on his way to Transfiguration and ended up in the Infirmary as a nasty purple slime pile, compliments of a vexed fire demon and a handful of nicely executed spells.
Whatever the reason for the curious circumstances surround the players of both Quidditch teams, the tension had mounted to unbearable levels. Harry was secretly glad that it would all be done with once the day was done—looking over your shoulder for jinxes everyday got a bit tiring.
"Yeah," Yusuke muttered, "Botan's pretty good on a broom. Flying's like her natural born talent...'cept she rides weird."
"Weird?" Ron echoed. "Weird as in how?"
A devilish grin lit Yusuke's face. "As in she'll set your skull on fire and make your eyeballs melt," he embellished. "When she zooms by, it's like a thousand stars are exploding in your head, and your heart–"
"She rides side-saddled."
"Dammit, Hiei!"
The demon gave no sign that he'd heard the remark and resumed his silent leaning against the wall.
"She can't be that great," Katie offered. "She's only human."
Harry would have very much liked to argue that he wasn't entirely sure of that (whenever he asked the transfers, they tended to skirt around the topic), but simply determined that it was best not to say a word. Yusuke and Hiei seemed to be following the same key.
"It doesn't matter who they've added or removed from their team," Harry said. "They're still going to get their arses handed to them because we're that much better." He punctuated his words with wild gestures of his hands. "Who's with me?"
"I'd say about...all of Gryffindor."
"I swear, if you don't shut up, Jacob McCragge–"
"I was only telling the truth, Katie..."
Harry sighed as they all got up to go and made for the pitch; he was hoping the two wouldn't bite each other's heads off on the field, because he suspected that romantic tension was afoot. And that was always deadly.
As he thought it, Ginny's red hair bobbed into view.
While he was comfortable with where their relationship stood, it was obvious that the school was more informed about it than he was. According to gossip, the two of them apparently snuck out twice a week to go to riveting parties, swim in the nude, and drink to Madam Rosmerta's health. He had a funny feeling that those rumors came from a rather vindictive group of fourth year Hufflepuff girls...
Though it probably should have been the last thing on his mind, Harry couldn't help but admire Ginny from afar. She looked particularly good in her Quidditch uniform, and her slacks made it clear that she had ample–
"Seriously, Harry. I'm right here."
"Ron, I have no idea what you're talking about." The response to this was a gruff grunt.
It wasn't as though Ron had suddenly become more present than before, and yet...Harry couldn't shake the feeling that he had somehow multiplied by ten, because he seemed to pop out of thin air whenever he tried to snag a moment alone with Ginny; he was like an insidious shadow. His constant vigilance would have put Moody to shame.
Ginny seemed to notice their light squabble, because she turned around and flashed Harry a mischievous smile. She sauntered over and leaned against him, fluttered her lashes with feigned infatuation, and gazing at him lustily.
"Harry, dearest, should we make out here, on the pitch, or in the common room?"
Harry shared a pointed look of bewilderment with Ron before floundering around with his mouth helplessly.
"I played no part in th–"
Ron raised a hand to silence him, grabbed his broom, and stalked off toward the pitch.
"D'you think he's mad?"
"No, just mentally scarred for life," Ginny threw out nonchalantly. "I think he secretly approves but his be-an-idiot-older-brother gene keeps getting in the way."
The sun was glaring overhead. The grass was wet and soft underneath his feet with dew. The wood of his broom felt hot and alive in his fingers. His heart was racing wildly in his chest, eager and nervous. The sky was screaming.
This was what Harry lived for. The thrill.
The hoots of the crowd pounded in his ears, sending his blood racing. He looked about his team as they strolled onto the pitch, fervor in their faces—with something like supremacy in Hiei's. Before him was Ravenclaw, Botan's bright blue hair impossible to miss from within the group. Madam Hooch already had the case at her feet.
She went through the usual motions, but Harry was barely listening; he was too busy studying the opposing team.
Botan, unsurprisingly, looked cheery and bubbly; she flashed Harry a smile when she noticed him staring, and he returned it genuinely.
Davies, Harry was glad to see, looked panicky—and he had a reason to be. Harry had assembled a fairly formidable team, and he hardly thought that they should be taken lightly. They'd crushed Slytherin effortlessly—Malfoy complications aside—and emerged from laughable, ragtag underdogs to imposing threat. This was their victory to have.
And then his eyes slid to Cho. Oddly enough, he finally realized that the annoying pang in his chest that made itself known every time he saw her had disappeared, nearly as quickly as the subsiding of the dull splitting ache in his head.
He decided that it was Ginny, and instantly felt grateful. She was nothing like Cho; there was never any drama or angst, but only light-hearted teasing and joking. To his surprise, she fit in snugly with Ron and Hermione as one of his closest friends, and he wondered how long she'd already been there. Had he simply been too deep in his own brooding to tell?
He chanced a glance at Ginny, and noticed that she was doing the same. They shared a timid chuckle and looked away embarrassed.
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Cho's expression turn bitter and jealous.
He shook Davies's hand at Madam Hooch's urging, not really seeing him once, and then they were off.
"And Yurikina takes the Quaffle! Is it just me, or does she ride a bit odd? Ah well..."
Harry tuned out the commentator's voice, speeding into the clouds as quickly as he could; the air breezed by him, snapping at his feet. He veered around, looking down at the tiny specks playing below, before Cho flew to his side.
"Big game, huh?" she said. Harry gave her a curious look, but nodded.
"Yeah," he answered slowly, unsure. "I guess it is. By the way, have you seen the Snitch? I'm sort of looking for it..."
Cho laughed. "No, but if I do I'll be sure to let you know."
They were quiet for a moment as both of them surveyed the match, scanning the clouds for any sign of their quarry. Harry thought he saw a glint of gold by Ron's goalpost. The only problem would be getting to it before Cho noticed...
"So you and Ginny Weasley, huh?"
And then Harry's fingers fumbled on his broomstick's handle.
"W-what?" he stammered.
"You and Ginny Weasley. You're together now, right?"
Harry threw her another furtive sidelong glance. "Yeah, we are." It was odd for her to ask; it was obvious enough, not to mention that it really wasn't her business and had nothing to do with the match.
"So what's that about?" Cho pressed. "Are you just satisfying her schoolgirl crush or–?"
"Cho." Harry's nostrils flared as he tried to calm himself. "Don't do that. You don't know a single thing about Ginny, and I'd really appreciate it if you didn't make wild guess about our relationship."
"Harry, I just–"
"JAGANSHI SCORES! 90-70, RAVENCLAW!"
Harry stiffened. Not only were they losing, but... the scores were ridiculously high for so early into the game.
Hiei and Botan, he chided himself, and went back to scanning the pitch.
"I just wanted to talk. About us."
Harry clenched his jaw. "There is no 'us,' Cho," he reminded her, his eyes never leaving the field once. "In case you don't remember, we tried that. You went crazy jealous on me, started crying, and stormed out. We don't really mix well together."
"I know," Cho blurted, "and I'm sorry. That was stupid and unfair of me, and I want to apologize."
"That's great, really, but this isn't the best time."
"It'll be the only time you're away from her," Cho muttered, and it was hard to miss the sullen tone in her voice. Not to mention that Harry didn't particularly like where their conversation was heading.
"Cho, what–?"
"I want to start over, Harry. Try again. I'm better now, you're better now. We can make it work."
"I'm hardly 'better,'" Harry murmured, too low for her to hear. "Look, Cho. This isn't going to work. I'm... happy with Ginny. I don't need to prove myself, I'm never nervous around her, it isn't awkward between us..." He wondered how much of this he'd subconsciously noted.
"Yeah, but–"
"Ginny and I fit together perfectly... like two missing puzzle pieces." Harry mentally kicked himself; that'd sounded unbelievably sentimental and soppy... even if it was true. "You and I don't. I think... I think it's time we move on."
Cho lingered in the air, her eyes studying his. "So you're sure, then?"
"Positive."
She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "Then I won't get in your way again, Harry. I'm... sorry we didn't work out."
Harry nodded understandingly, not entirely sure how to respond. "Me, too" would send the wrong message, and he hardly wanted to go through their awkward conversation again–
"OUCH! URAMESHI'S DOWN! Yurikina takes the Quaffle, passes it to Davies... RAVENCLAW SCORES! 170 TO 170!"
"...Hey, Cho?" Harry ventured.
"Yeah, Harry?" She swerved to him again on her broom.
"We can always be friends, you know."
"I know. Always." She smiled and Harry returned it.
"Good. Because Gryffindor is totally about to kick Ravenclaw's arse."
And he was gone, flying through the clouds, through the white and the fluff and the wet, leaving broken teenage angst and romance behind in the past where it belonged.
His fingers closed around cool, gold metal, and his chest exploded with joy.
"GRYFFINDOR WINS! GRYFFINDOR WINS AND BLOWS THE PANTS OFF OF THOSE PANSIES! GRYFFINOR–!"
Five broomstick smashed into Harry's, sending the group tumbling to the ground and laughing, sprawled in the grass. Hiei landed—much more gracefully—beside the pile and offered Harry his hand. The demon's hair was windswept, and his face invigorated. (Apparently, Botan had given him more of a rush than he'd thought she would.) Harry grinned and took his hand.
They'd won. They'd won, and the crowd was screaming their names. It wasn't snowing or raining; no dark creatures or Death Eaters had tried to kill him; he wasn't being rushed to the hospital wing, broken and bloodied and battered; and Ginny was by his side, squeezing him wildly with the entire team surrounding them.
He looked up into the pale blue sky and smiled.
-
Humans were stupid.
It was something Hiei had come to realize during the many decades of his life. It was simply an indisputable, irrefutable, forever absolute fact. He wasn't entirely certain how any species, human or demon, could be so unintelligent, but he'd found it proven time and time and time again. Like now.
In light of Gryffindor's victory, the members of his house had decided to celebrate in the most obnoxious of ways, one which hormone-ridden teenagers excelled at marvelously: a wild party.
Harry and Ginny, quite possibly the heroes of the match, were lounged comfortably on the carpet by the fire, oblivious to the rambunctious affair surrounding them as they exchange fevered whispers of humanly devotion and affection. (Hiei repressed the urge to twitch violently.)
The Weasley boy, Ron, had managed to bury himself under a pile of fawning and swooning second years, each eagerly begging him to recount the incredibly epic tale of his thwarting of the despicable Ravenclaws and championing of the Gryffindor's rightful claim to the Quidditch Cup. Or something of the sort. Hiei wasn't really listening.
And Hermione (to Hiei's slight surprise) watched the entire affair amusedly from a cushiony armchair, her face free of foreboding reproach as she flipped through another text from her endless supply of tomes.
But it was really Yusuke who stole the show.
He and the other Beater (he vaguely recalled the boy's name to be McCragge) were swinging about the common room, dancing on tables, and hooting wildly, their eyes glazed over and their faces flushed red—an admirable feat, considering that the latter's skin wasn't entirely light enough to show the change in complexion.
Hiei realized from their raucous laughter and flushed faces that they had consumed an ungodly amount of contraband alcohol, and were probably planning to consume more. Which meant, of course, that the two would be even more so stupid and unreasonable than usual. He decided to leave before they did something incredibly stupid or dangerous.
"McCragge, I'll see your seventeen sickles and raise it five that I can jump over Katie and Hiei!"
Or both.
Sighing, the demon rose from his perch on his armchair and made for the portrait hole, thankfully before the two stooges had managed to complete their transaction.
The halls were mercifully empty, devoid of humans and their ridiculous antics. There was no screaming in his ear, were no smiles and kisses within his view. There was only moonlight streaming from the floor-to-ceiling windowpanes and silence. So he thought.
This wasn't what he'd signed up for. None of it. He'd been expecting a human girl implanted with the Jagan gone raging mad and murderous, obliterating everything within her sight. He'd been expecting a violent and exciting clash, and a challenge of some sort.
But it'd all turned around. The girl wasn't the problem, the dark wizard was. The damn human fool who wanted three chunks of dirt, and who was willing to tear apart all Three Worlds and spread demons and fear and carnage to do it. An applaudable aspiration, Hiei admitted, but it lacked tact and timing. He wished the wizard would strike already, because sitting inside the castle walls was boring him out of his skull.
And he was starting to act...human. He'd turned too friendly, become far too comfortable in the place. Hiei would've never thought he'd be forced to admit it, but he missed the fox's philosophical bull.
He heard tearful sobbing and sighed inwardly.
Of course she'd be here. She was always here. Always crying and moaning and anguishing. Really, he couldn't blame her: she was a puppet by day and a slightly-less-controlled puppet with a few gaps of sentience by night. She had a right to bemoan her existence, but the repetition was so tiresome.
Hiei pretended he didn't notice her as he strolled by, but she turned from her windowsill and clamped her fingers about his wrists. He resisted the urge to break her arms.
"Hiei," she breathed, and she let go of his wrists and broke down into muffled sobs again. Honestly, he was surprised she knew his name at all, but she did have voices bouncing around in her head. The girl must've overheard something.
"Raven," he offered curtly, and made to go.
"W-wait," she whispered, and she sniffled a little before wiping the tears that clung to her lashes on the sleeve of her robe.
"Disappointed at Ravenclaw's loss?"
"Hardly," she muttered, and her tone was surprisingly bitter and hard. "I w-wasn't really at the m-match, was I?"
"No, I suppose you weren't."
When she started crying again, it took Hiei a considerable amount of self-control not to roll his eyes and sigh in exasperation.
"He's w-winning, you know," she told him, once she'd calmed down enough to become comprehensible again. "Y-You-Know-Who. He's more than happy—he's ecstatic. I... f-felt it." Her lids shut tightly as her skin turned pale. "He already has two of the three...me...and the black one. And now he's found the third."
The hairs on Hiei's neck stood up, and his back stiffened. "He's found the third?" the demon repeated, wary at the news.
Raven nodded shakily and took a careful step in his direction, her cold clammy hands closing around Hiei's again; this time, he did twitch. "I'm sorry," she whispered, and she looked like she was on the verge of tears again. "I've been hearing it echo in my head for months, but it only just made any sense to me at all."
"Hearing what?" Hiei pressed, and every nerve in his body was suddenly on fire.
"Koorime."
And the fire turned to cold dread turned to bile in the back of his throat. He wrenched his hands from hers.
"And?" he snarled. "What does that have to do with me? Why does it matter? Why should I even car–"
"Because they're going after your sister!" Raven shrieked, and her voice was high and panicky. "Don't you see? It's because they need something she ha—Hiei! Hiei, no! Please, w-wait!"
But he didn't hear her; he was already a blur tearing through the halls.
-End Chapter-
A/N:
-Why yes, I have been focusing rather intensely on Harry these past few chapters. Why yes, you're right: it was time for a change.
-Next chapter, some serious, violent, demon action that I've been planning and have had stowed away in my notebook for nearly two-years. Can you tell I'm excited?
