"Hey, look Harry," Ron said, pointing at the quidditch stands.

Harry turned his head obediently.

"What? Hermione?"

"No," Ron said impatiently, although his stomach gave a sudden lurch. She was there too, for 'moral support' in her words, her nose buried in a book. He aimed his finger at the person a few rows above her. "Look. Lupin."

Harry didn't say anything. Ron glanced at him, and his face was impassive, although he gripped his broom rather tightly.

"Oh," he said eventually. "Well, come on."
He strode out onto the pitch. Ron went on looking at the Defence professor, who saw him and waved. He waved back briefly, and then followed Harry.

It had been weird having Lupin back as a teacher – it seemed a very long time since third year, and he'd forgotten how good it was to have someone decent. In sixth year they'd been sent an idiot from the Transylvanian region, who'd thought he was a vampire. So had Harry, Hermione and Ron for a little while – but Dumbledore soon discovered that he was only a bit crazy, and sent him away.

So Lupin was a refreshing change. Practical defence work, tempered with excellent teaching. It was more than refreshing – it was marvellous. Ron even felt something of his old enthusiasm returning.

Harry was a slightly different story. Although he professed to be glad to see Lupin, he would never meet the teacher's eye, and rarely spoke up in class (while still performing all set tasks perfectly). Ron thought Ginny might have been on the money with her 'reminds him of Sirius' comment. The only time he'd noticed Harry talk alone to Lupin was after their first lesson. Ron had waited for him in the hall, and when he'd come out, his eyes were red and shiny.

Ron, being Ron, said nothing, and they'd gone to lunch.

They hadn't seen so much of Hermione this week either – although, when he thought about it, if you added up all the time she spent in the library the previous year, she was probably at the same level of absence. It wasn't the time that bothered him so much. Just the person she spent it with. Not even all of it – not nearly. He knew Malfoy only shared bits of her time, and he knew it was silly, and still it bothered him.

"Right," Harry said. The Gryffindor team was standing in a circle in the centre of the field – Harry as Seeker and Captain, Ron as Keeper, Ginny, Parvarti and a new third-year, Alice Overly, as Chasers. The Creevey brothers – who had been forced to hone their quidditch skills by over-enthusiastic parents, and even beefed up a little – were approaching at a jog, ready to take on their Beater positions.

"Right," Harry said again, when they'd arrived. He looked rather nervous, but was clearly maintaining a brave face. Ron nodded, for no particular reason beyond reassurance. "OK," Harry said. "So we're all here?"

"We're all here, Harry," said Ginny.

He looked at her quickly, and then nodded himself. "Good. Well, we didn't take the Cup last year, and we didn't take it the year before. And I've had enough of it. This year, it's ours. Right?"

"Right," everyone agreed.

"Which means," went on Harry, gaining confidence, "that we're going to have to pull together as a team, and do some real work. We're going to work out our plays beforehand, we're going to learn them, we're going to train as hard as is humanly possible. And we're going to win."

Damn, Ron thought with dismay. Oliver's returned in Harry's body.

"Are we clear on that?" Harry said, looking into each of his team member's faces. "We're going to win this thing."

"You got it Harry," said Colin.

Ginny leant against her broom.

"We'll do our very best," she said.

Harry smiled at them all, a bit hesitantly, and then nodded once more.

"Good," he said. "Let's take these brooms up."
They flew alright – not great, but alright, and Ron could see it bothered Harry. He, Ron and Ginny were holding up the team. Parvati was a decent flyer, but not quick enough with the ball. The new girl was still too shy to put herself out there, and the Creeveys were so excited to be captained by Harry that they were sending the Bludgers every which way. Ron could feel his own spirits sinking. This was going to be harder than he'd imagined.

"OK," Harry said eventually, after an hour and a half. He was sweaty and breathless, but his eyes were determined. "Next practice is tomorrow morning at six, before breakfast. It's Saturday, so no excuses about class. We've got – we've got a lot to do."

"Sure, Harry!" piped up Dennis, thwacking away the last bludger. "We'll be there."

"With bells on," added Colin.

They might have continued, but there was a sudden, exhaled oof to Ron's left. He spun around, just in time to see Ginny tumbling from her broom, her hair whipping about her face. She'd been hit with the Creevey's ball, and his heart went straight to his mouth as he watched her. He was utterly frozen.

Harry wasn't. He'd plunged already, and pretty soon the rest were after him, yelling and dropping. Ron forced his nerves into action and followed. He saw his sister hit the ground, and Harry step off his broom when it was still a metre above earth, stumbling forwards. He dropped to his knees beside her.

Ron touched down and ran over. His feet were moving so slowly. He thought he was shouting something ('Is she alright? Is she alright?'), but couldn't actually hear himself. He stopped behind Harry, who was holding her wrist, his face very pale.

"Pulse?" Ron managed, while everyone else lined up around them.

Harry's features relaxed, and he nodded. He dropped her arm and pushed the hair out of her face. There was blood on her forehead, and both he and Ron started.

"Talk to her," he said to Ron, after a stunned pause. His voice was hoarse. "Someone she'll recognise. See if you can wake her up. Parvati, get Pomfrey."

"Er – Ginny, can you hear me?" Ron said, even as Parvati scampered off. "It's Ron."

Silence. She didn't move. She was breathing, but she wasn't moving.

"It's your brother Ron," he repeated. "Ginny, open your eyes."

No response.

And then Harry was cutting in.

"Wake up," he said lowly, urgently. "Wake up, Ginny."

To Ron's shock, she made a throaty noise, and her eyes flickered open.

"Harry," she said.

"Yes," he replied unsteadily. "You fell off your broom."

"I was knocked off," she corrected him croakily, and he smiled a little.

"Yeah, you were knocked off. Do you feel alright?"

"Yes. My head hurts."

"Don't sit up," Ron interjected hastily, coming closer. His shock had been replaced with a mighty relief. "It's bad to sit up right away, isn't it?"

Harry didn't look at Ron. "We'll wait for Madame Pomfrey," he explained quietly to Ginny, brushing hair out of her face again, getting blood on his hands. "You'll be right."

"Jesus, Gin," Ron breathed, dropping to his knees with Harry. He put a hand on his heart. It was fluttering crazily.

"What's happening? What's happening?" Hermione was shrieking.

He spun around. There she was, her and the professor. They'd clearly run all the way from the stands. Hermione's face was already tear-streaked, and Lupin's was grim in anticipation of the worst.

"Is she conscious?" he asked, directing the question at Harry, even as Hermione stepped up behind Ron. She put her hand on his shoulders and leant over him to see Ginny, and his heart went faster still.

"Yeah," Harry said, still looking down at her.

"I'm fine," said Ginny. She even managed to sound annoyed. "I'm alright. Can I get up?"

"No," Lupin said immediately, his relief clear. "Stay there." He turned to the team. "What happened?"

Dennis Creevey raised a slow, trembling hand. His face was bright crimson. The others stared at their feet, even Colin, and offered him no help.

"What did happen?" Hermione said, bending to speak in Ron's ear as Lupin approached the younger Creevey.

"Bludger hit her," Ron said. "She fell."

"I only saw her drop. It was terrible. I thought Harry might reach her before she hit for a second, but he didn't. Then we just ran."

"It's not Harry's fault. I should have been there."

"Don't be silly. No-one could have got there in time. Not even Harry, and he's got his Ascendant and all. Merlin, she's lucky."

"Yeah," agreed Ron, his heart-rate settling just a little. "Bloody lucky."

"What's going on?" said a cool voice, just outside their little circle. He looked up. Malfoy, broom in hand and dressed in quidditch practice robes, was standing there with his eyebrows raised. His gaze travelled down to Ginny, and he looked taken-aback.

"Is she alright?" he asked.

"Fine," Ron said shortly.

"She fell," explained Hermione. "What are you doing here?"

"The Gryffindors are meant to be off the pitch now," he said, shrugging, "and I was flying anyway, so I thought I'd get in a bit of quidditch. But I guess I won't be able to anymore."

What, do you want us to move? Ron thought fiercely. Want us to get out of your way?

"I'll go down to the change-rooms. Hope your sister's all right," he said in Ron's direction, and then strode away.

"Did you see that?" Ron hissed at Harry.

Harry looked up. "See what?"

Hermione's hand tightened on his shoulder, and he shrugged her off. Before he could say anymore, Lupin was speaking. He was firmly gripping the Dennis' arm.

"I'm taking this one upstairs," he said. "And here's Madame Pomfrey now."

They all turned – she was running down the slope at break-neck speed, her medical kit swinging in hand.

"Get to the change rooms, then," Lupin said. "You can stay, Ron, but only until Madame Pomfrey has ascertained Ginny's condition. Then you should change, too, and get into the castle. It's practically dark. We'll talk to you all about this later."

The others began to move away.

"Harry," Lupin said gently, and, very reluctantly, Harry stood.

"I'll stay with you, Ron," Hermione suggested, and Ron wanted to say: Yes, please stay with me, what if it's bad news, what do I do if it's bad news, but Lupin shook his head.

"Thank you, Hermione, but no. Poppy will work best with few people about."

"Alright," she agreed, and then squeezed Ron's arm briefly. "She'll be fine," Hermione said, and then walked slowly off the pitch. Harry went with her (blatantly ignoring the change rooms order).

Ron wished they'd come back.

~

Ginny was fine, thank Merlin. She'd bruised her tailbone and legs, badly sprained her ankle, had a cut on her head, and had narrowly missed a broken back or neck. If Ron thought he'd been relieved before, that was nothing compared to what he felt once Pomfrey had given the all clear. He couldn't imagine what he'd have done if things hadn't turned out so well – and was very grateful to the clear-headed Lupin, who handled it all so reassuringly.

"Go take a shower, change clothes and have your dinner," he said decisively. "Your sister will go right to the hospital wing, and you can see her there tonight."

"Yes, go," said Ginny. "You smell awful."

Lupin went off with Dennis, Ginny and Pomfrey, and Ron went to the change rooms. The rest of the team had long since departed, apart from one person, who was still in the shower. Ron took a vacant one, washed quickly and in extremely hot water, and then ducked out again, wrapped in a towel.

He nearly shouted when he saw that it was Malfoy who'd been in the other shower. The Slytherin was changed now, and drying his hair.

"Weasley," he said, looking up.

Ron clenched his fists. A drop of water slid down his back.

He'd had enough.

He had to say something.

"Malfoy," he said gratingly, "I want to talk to you."

Malfoy didn't stop drying off. "What about?"

"About Hermione."

Now he stopped. He eyed Ron, who refused to be intimidated, and stared right back. "What about her?" Malfoy said, after a while.

Right, Ron thought, what about her exactly?

He didn't know.

"I – I just want you to – not – be a dickhead when it comes to her."

"OK," Malfoy said dryly, "not be a dickhead. Thank you, Weasley, for that pearl of wisdom."

"You know what I mean," Ron said angrily, and Malfoy raised his hands.

"No," he said, "I don't. Now if you'll excuse me …"
He made to leave, and Ron stepped in front of him, determined to get this out.

"You do know what I mean," he repeated. "Don't hurt her, Malfoy."

"Are you threatening me, Weasley?" he said quietly.

Am I? he thought. "No," he managed finally. "Just making a suggestion."

"Suggest somewhere else," Malfoy snapped, pushing him away (if lightly). "She's not your girlfriend, is she?"

"She's my best friend. And I trust you about as far as I could sling a piano."

"She can look after herself. And I'm not doing anything. So fuck off, Weasley, and leave me alone."

"Hey," Ron said loudly.

"Hey what?" Malfoy interrupted. "She's forgiven me, hasn't she? Why can't you?"

This took him aback. They stood in silence for a few moments before Ron found voice again.

"I don't see why she's forgiven you at all," he said stiffly. "You were horrible to her."

Malfoy's eyes were unreadable. "I apologised. And I'm not horrible anymore. The proof of actions, Weasley."

Ron said nothing, didn't move, and Malfoy made an impatient, sighing sound.

"I'm on your side," he said. "I'm on it. And I try to be polite to you, but you only get what you give, and I can't help it if you're too small-minded to move on." He paused, and then said pointedly: "This isn't even about me. It's about you being a jealous prick. Well, I don't want her like that, so rest easy."

Ron wished he could say something more. He never knew how to deal with Malfoy's – smart-arse-ness. He just went on looking at him, feeling like a wank, wishing he were better at these verbal games.

"Now," Malfoy said, eyes glinting, "get out of my way."

And, hating it, hating himself, he stepped sideways to let Malfoy pass.

Hermione would have been proud of his restraint.

He wasn't. If he could work up the courage, he'd hit himself in the face for letting Malfoy walk over him.

Even so, he was glad they'd 'talked'. He felt a little easier about it all. Still uncertain of Malfoy's motives – but then again, who was ever going to understand that guy? And at least he'd done something instead of just lying in bed worrying about it.

~

A/N: I know, I know, another broom scene with Harry and Ginny. What can I say? I like 'em (and I know, I am blatant in the sexual tension between H/G. It's all fun.) … Getting the idea that while Malfoy may have switched sides, there's still some of the old arrogance tucked in there? Good. More R/HG fluff ahead. ~nm3x5s~