Disclaimer: The song, 'Desperado' was sung by the Eagles, but I don't know
to whom it belongs. I didn't write it, but I wish I did. All of the words
are at the end of the last chapter (not epilogue). Again, not mine, but a
great song.
Chapter 5
The chaos at breakfast was almost as bad as at dinner. Dean woke the Quidditch team early and got in a last strategy meeting. When other Gryffindors began to wander down to the Common Room, he led the team to breakfast. The Slytherin team also seemed to have decided on an early breakfast and both teams made a point of ignoring the other. The dining hall began to fill with students. The din from the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables grew to a dull roar as both houses shouted boasts and threats to the other. Dean looked at his team, all of them, Harry included, jittery with nerves.
"All right team, go get your brooms and robes and meet me in the locker room in five!"
Looking greatly relieved, the Gryffindor team rose and hurried out of the Great Hall. As they were climbing the stairs, they heard the noise from the hall grow louder, then softer again. Ginny glanced back to see Malfoy leading his team toward the dungeons. He reached the foot of the stairs and looked up. Ginny felt frozen to the spot. His face was blank of any expression, but his eyes burned into hers. She shivered, then turned and rushed up the stairs, catching up to her team.
Thirty minutes later, Harry jumped up from the locker room bench he'd been sitting on and pulled at his hair.
"Enough! Dean, please! I thought I'd go nuts if I heard 'Beat Slytherin' once more, but jeez!" He looked pleadingly at Dean and kneeled at his feet. Grabbing the hem of Dean's Quidditch robe, he begged, "Thirty minutes of tactics! The same plays over and over! Dean, I can't take it! Just shoot me!"
The rest of the team stared for a few seconds, then started laughing. Dean tried to look stern, but after a moment he joined them. When they had finally gotten themselves under control, Dean smiled sheepishly.
"Sorry about that, I guess we're all a bit nervous."
"Man, if that's how you handle nerves," Seamus teased, glancing meaningfully at Natalie, "I'd hate to see you on your wedding day. Ouch!"
Natalie punched him in the arm and the team broke up again. Any comment she might have added was cut off by a loud knock at the door.
"Thomas!" came the firm voice of Madam Hooch. "Five minutes," she yelled through the door.
The team fell silent and they were able to hear Madam Hooch knock on the door to the other locker room and give Malfoy the same message.
They looked at each other and Harry picked up his broom, a Firebolt XST, the newest model in the Firebolt line.
"Well, guys, this is it," he said.
They gathered their brooms, smoothed their robes and lined up behind Dean as he moved to the door. He turned and gave them a nervous smile.
"Do your best," he said simply. "And Harry, Malfoy really is a good Seeker. Try to get the Snitch first."
Harry looked a bit offended but Ginny spoke before he had a chance.
"Just keep Malfoy," she made his name sound like a foul word, "off the Snitch for twenty minutes." Her voice hardened even more. "We," she indicated herself, Nat and Colin, "will take care of the rest!"
Her teammates were stunned for a moment at the outburst. Then Natalie and Colin cheered, the rest joining in seconds later.
Dean opened the door and led them out, all of them now shouting, "Gry-ffin- DOR! Gry-ffin-DOR!"
As they filed onto the pitch, Ron moved to Ginny's side. Placing a hand on her arm, he turned her toward him.
"Ginny," he said quietly, "I'm seriously worried about you. Is anything wrong?"
She looked into his familiar face and felt the urge to let everything come flooding out: her encounters with Malfoy, her initial fear of him, how she found herself attracted to him in spite of herself, and her suspicions that he had been leading her on, just to make a fool of her. The sounds from the stands broke into her thoughts. Not here, this wasn't the place or time. And, again, it was her problem. Ron would certainly try to kill Malfoy if she said anything. She shook her head and gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.
"Nothing I can't handle, Ron. Now let's worry about the game."
They hurried after the rest of the team, Ron feeling that Ginny's reassuring smile wasn't the least bit reassuring. He felt more concerned than ever. What on earth could cause sweet, quiet, and shy Ginny to turn into such a bitchy she-devil? He could guess the answer in one word: Malfoy!
The teams were lined up opposite each other with Madam Hooch going over the basic rules and advising them against fouling other players. Ron felt his anger at that bastard Malfoy building again. Especially when he noted the way the git seemed to be ignoring Madam Hooch and staring at Ginny. He wanted to strangle the Slytherin team Captain. Ginny was staring back, pale and trembling, but looking as though she would gladly inflict serious harm on Malfoy. I was right, thought Ron. He has hurt her.
As Madam Hooch blew her whistle and shouted, "Mount your brooms!" Ron silently vowed that Malfoy would pay.
The first few minutes of the match were a blur as both sets of Chasers jostled one another for the Quaffle. Natalie came up with it first and made a dash for the Slytherin goal. The Slytherin Chasers were following closely, but Colin and Ginny took up flanking positions above and below Nat. As the Slytherins closed in on her, Natalie slowed and dropped the Quaffle right into Ginny's waiting hands. Ginny sped ahead of the startled Slytherin Chasers, zoomed past the equally surprised Keeper and scored.
The crowd cheered wildly. The Gryffindor team had used an unusual and tactically dangerous play, but the risk had paid off. Now that the first score had been made, the teams settled down a bit.
Seamus and Harry zipped by Ginny and congratulated her. She was glad she'd found that play in her Chaser's guide, but knew it would not work a second time. Her book! She had forgotten again last night when Ron had been so concerned about her. Feeling sick, she looked around for Malfoy. He was near his own goal, shouting advice and instructions to his players while scanning for the Snitch. Had he read the book? Was he telling them how to counter the Gryffindor plays?
He couldn't have, she told herself. If he had, the last play wouldn't have worked because Ginny had circled and underlined it. Maybe he hadn't had a chance to use it yet? Or maybe, the small voice she was growing to detest said, just maybe, he was unwilling to take advantage of her? Hmph, she snorted, as though he would care who got in his way if it meant winning.
A sharp call from Dean brought her back to the present. The Slytherin Chasers were charging for the Gryffindor goal. Seamus and Ron were tied up with the Bludgers Millicent and Ian had batted toward their heads, so couldn't help block the Chasers. Ginny sent her broom speeding toward the goal, catching Colin's eye and giving him a quick hand signal. Then she and Nat flew quickly to intercept the Slytherin Chasers. Colin flew behind the goal hoops and hovered there. In case Slytherin missed the score, Colin could recover the Quaffle quickly and possibly score before Slytherin reacted.
Ginny was able to get ahead of the Slytherin who was carrying the Quaffle. She set up a blocking maneuver, and crossed her fingers. The inexperienced Slytherin Chaser swerved to the left where Natalie was flying just between and behind the Slytherins. The Slytherin girl passed the Quaffle to her teammate, but Natalie zipped between them and intercepted. She braked hard, spun her broom and sped to the Slytherin goal. The Keeper was as fast as Dean had said, but thanks to their summer together, Natalie was able to feint to the side, then come around and score Gryffindor's second goal.
Ginny gave a cheer and a quick high-five to Colin before looking around to see where everyone was. Harry was high above, still searching for the Snitch. Seamus was belting a Bludger away from Natalie, who was hurrying back into position. Where's Ron, she wondered? The game was going great, and she felt that even if that git, Malfoy got the Snitch, Gryffindor might be far enough ahead that it wouldn't matter. Where IS Ron, Ginny thought nervously? She looked below and saw Ron flying near Malfoy. They seemed to be arguing, Ron red-faced and gesturing wildly, Malfoy pale and looking ultra-controlled.
Ginny correctly assumed that Ron was questioning Malfoy about her and first felt irritation that he couldn't mind his own business. Her irritation turned to alarm as Madam Hooch gave Ron a warning about harassing the Seeker.
Damn him, she thought. He's going to foul Malfoy and give Slytherin a penalty shot! Ginny tried to get Dean's attention, but play had resumed and Slytherin was making another drive for the goal! Ginny turned her broom and then heard Seamus yell at her to duck. She instinctively lowered herself over the broom handle and felt the rush of air past her temple as the Bludger only just missed clouting her. She shuddered. Bludgers were dangerous and painful. Seamus hurried after and sent it spinning wildly the other direction.
"Sorry," he hollered. "That cow Bulstrode aimed straight for your head!" He flew off.
Ginny looked around again, seeing that Dean had blocked the goal attempt and was passing the Quaffle back to Colin. Then she saw several other things at once. Ron was still yelling at Malfoy, but Malfoy stiffened, made a comment to Ron, then dove toward the ground. From the corner of her eye she saw Harry dive, too. They've seen the Snitch, she thought anxiously.
Although she normally would have tried to find the flash that indicated the fast-moving little golden ball, for some reason she looked again at Ron. She gasped. Ron's face was a mask of anger and loathing as he glared at Malfoy. A Bludger swept toward Ron and he trapped it with his bat. Ginny sensed his intent and watched, horrified as he gave it a mighty whack straight at Malfoy's retreating form. She lay over her broom handle and pointed it on an intercept course, making as much speed as she could.
Things suddenly seemed to happen all at once. Looking down, Ginny saw Harry and Malfoy racing for the Snitch, Harry slightly ahead but Malfoy gaining quickly. She glanced around and saw the Bludger flying at Malfoy. He doesn't even know what's coming, she thought wildly. She seemed to be gaining on Malfoy so slowly that she looked up to check the Bludger again. It was headed directly for her face.
"Ginny! NO!" Ron yelled, horrified.
Ginny let out one loud cry and ducked, covering her head with her arms. As she lost her balance and started to tumble from her broom, Ginny saw Malfoy look up, startled. His eyes widened and he pulled his broom up. Then her head exploded with pain and she fell into blackness.
Pain! There was so much pain! She heard quick snatches of conversation, but couldn't make any sense of what she heard.
An angry, worried voice, "Get the hell off! Just tell me where to take her!" Ginny was aware of strong arms holding her tightly, and the smell of sweat and something else, strangely familiar. She was jostled and the pain exploded again. She blacked out.
Another voice, soft, concerned. "She will be all right if you will let me do my job." More movement and more pain. Then the blackness again.
The angry voice was back. "You bloody son of a bitch! Tried to kill me, you just got her!" There were sounds of shouting and a scuffle. Her head was pounding. Gods, why couldn't they just be quiet?
She must have said it out loud because there was immediate silence followed by the sound of hurrying footsteps.
"You lot! Back outside, now!" Ginny recognized the strident tones of Madam Pomfrey. "Having a row in the hospital wing. I thought all of you would have more sense! I'll speak to your heads of house if you don't move off instantly."
Ginny sighed into the blessed quiet. She could make out many sets of feet shuffling out of the hospital ward, but couldn't seem to open her eyes to watch. She felt so tired. She started slightly as she felt a cool hand on her forehead.
"How do you feel now, Miss Weasley? Can you open your eyes?"
Ginny obediently tried to open her eyes, only partially successful.
"Very good," beamed the healer witch. "Now that you've regained consciousness, I'm sending you back to sleep." She pulled out her wand and conjured a glass containing a dark green, vile smelling potion. "Drink this," she commanded brusquely.
Ginny tried to turn away from the horrid-smelling concoction, causing pain to shoot through her head again, but Madam Pomfrey took a firm hold on her chin and held the glass to her lips.
"Don't be squeamish, Miss Weasley," she admonished sternly. "It will help the pain and let you sleep."
Ginny forced herself to swallow a mouthful, then lay back, exhausted. As she was slipping into slumber, Ginny felt Madam Pomfrey pull a blanket over her and tuck it in around her.
Ginny came awake slowly. She heard quiet whispering and turned her head toward the voices.
"Damn!" she hissed as the pain shot through her head.
Someone clicked their tongue, and Hermione stuck her head around the curtain surrounding Ginny's bed.
"I know you had six foul-mouthed brothers," Hermione teased, "but it doesn't mean you have to talk like them. How are you, Ginny?"
Hermione came to Ginny's side and gave her a small smile. Ginny grimaced. The curtain rattled and Ron, Harry and Natalie joined Hermione. They crowded around the bed, all of them speaking at the same time. Ginny couldn't seem to concentrate on any of them. She squeezed her eyes shut and put her fingers to her temples.
"Could you please just shut up?" Her gritted question brought immediate silence. She sighed, relieved, and looked at them again.
Ron took her hand awkwardly, his face drawn and pale. He looked so miserable, Ginny had to smile.
"You stupid git," she teased weakly. "What were you trying to do?"
Ron shuffled his feet and mumbled something, but was interrupted when Madam Pomfrey pushed back the curtain completely and fixed a glare on Ginny's visitors.
"Back up, now," she demanded imperiously, motioning them away. "Didn't I tell you lot to fetch me when she woke?"
She fastened her steely glare on Hermione, who bit her lip and flushed slightly. "And you a Prefect! Now, go wait somewhere else, until I call you back."
She herded them away and closed the curtain again.
"There, now, let me look at you and see how you are doing. Let's get this blanket off you. Do you think you can sit up?"
Ginny gritted her teeth and nodded. The healer, surprisingly strong for her slight build, helped Ginny into a sitting position, legs dangling over the bed. Ginny looked down at her legs and gave a slight start. She was not wearing the Quidditch robe, blue jeans and tee shirt she had begun the day in. Instead, she was wearing a pair of bright orange Chudley Cannons boxer shorts she'd appropriated from Ron's laundry over the summer, and a cropped black tee shirt with a (non-moving) picture of The Broomstick Boys, a popular teen rock group. She looked wide-eyed at the healer.
Madam Pomfrey clicked her tongue, disapprovingly, and explained. "Miss Granger brought what she said was your usual sleep wear. We couldn't leave you in the soiled robes you were wearing. In my day, however, young ladies did not parade about--" she stopped abruptly at the glazed look that suddenly entered Ginny's eyes.
"Well, let me examine you, then."
Despite her brusque manner, Madam Pomfrey's hands were extremely gentle. She examined Ginny's head and neck, delicately probing the lump at the back of Ginny's head. Ginny winced, but remained still. The healer continued the exam, checking reflexes, muscle strength, and mobility. Illuminating her wand, Madam Pomfrey looked into Ginny's pupils, then finally began asking the now exhausted girl what seemed to be idiotic questions.
"What's your name?"
"Ginny Weasley."
"What day is it?"
Ginny's headache was coming back, but she answered steadily enough. "Saturday, uh, unless your potion made me sleep all night."
"Saturday is correct. You've only slept a few hours. What's the date?"
"October 26th."
"And who is the current Minister of Magic?"
Ginny paused for a moment before muttering, "Cornelius Fudge, the git." Now her head was beginning to pound.
Madam Pomfrey gave her a sharp look, but let it pass.
"Miss Weasley, where are you?" she asked.
This was enough!
"I'm in the hospital wing, my head is killing me, and you're asking stupid questions anyone could answer!"
Madam Pomfrey narrowed her eyes and gave Ginny a withering look.
"You're injured and in pain, Miss Weasley, but that doesn't give you the right to abuse those trying to help you. Now lie back."
Ginny was immediately contrite and apologized to the healer. Madam Pomfrey's cool manner thawed a bit as she conjured another glass, this time with a lemony yellow-green potion.
"I understand, Miss Weasley. I know that if you weren't injured you would never have said something like that. You've always been such a well- mannered, delightful student in the Magical Healing classes. Now, drink this," she said as she brought the glass to Ginny's lips.
The liquid was not as foul smelling as the previous draught had been. Ginny took a cautious sip. It tasted slightly salty, but not too unpleasant. Ginny took two large swallows, then lay back again. Madam Pomfrey put the glass on the table beside Ginny's bed.
"The draught I gave you has a mild pain killer, but more important, it is a fairly strong sedative. I'll allow your visitors to remain, but you'll probably be asleep within five minutes. If you wake in the night and need anything, simply summon me."
The healer indicated the small box of light gray powder sitting next to the special, long burning candle toward the rear of the bedside table. Similar to the powder used by the wizarding community to communicate through fireplaces, this was especially useful for hospital patients.
Ginny nodded, again wincing slightly. Madam Pomfrey opened the curtains, muttering about students attacking one another during games, and what was the world coming to. She spoke briefly with Hermione, then strode swiftly down the hall and back to her office.
Ginny was already feeling the effects of the potion. The ache in her head was lessening, and she even managed a smile at Ron, Harry and Hermione. She looked around quickly. Hermione, misinterpreting the look, stepped forward and took one of Ginny's hands.
"Nat went to tell everyone you're going to be okay," she explained.
Ginny looked quickly up at Hermione and decided not to explain that she had actually been looking for someone with silver-blond hair and gray eyes.
Hermione looked as though she had been crying, but her voice was quite steady now.
"We were so worried, Ginny. You were so still and pale when Ma--"
Ron bumped Hermione out of the way and interrupted. "You looked dead when they brought you in!" Ron didn't look so well himself, she thought.
Harry had hung back at first, but now he took Ginny's other hand and asked, "Are you okay, Gin?"
Ginny yawned; she couldn't help it. "Bit sleepy," she murmured fuzzily. "Glad we beat Slytherin, though."
She yawned again, then noticed the frozen looks on their faces. "What?" she asked, wishing she didn't feel so tired.
Hermione and Harry were looking at Ron. He looked away, his face turning red. Hermione crossed her arms and gave Ron a glare.
"Go ahead, tell her, Ron."
"Well, someone tell me," Ginny said anxiously.
Harry released Ginny's hand and looked away from Ron. Ginny wanted to scream. If only she wasn't so tired. Finally, Harry spoke up.
"We didn't win the match," he said in a strained voice.
Ginny looked from one to the other, hoping it was a bad joke. Their faces said otherwise.
"But, I don't-you mean Malfoy got the Snitch?" Ginny was confused and the pain in her head was creeping back.
"Oh, no, Harry got the Snitch all right, but his efforts and yours were wasted because of Ron's stupid Bludger!" Hermione snapped, giving Ron a disgusted look.
Ginny was now totally bewildered. "If Harry got the Snitch, then why..." she trailed off into another yawn.
"Dean seemed to feel that sending a Bludger straight at Malfoy's head and you falling off your broom constituted an unfair distraction. He asked Madam Hooch for a rematch." Harry didn't sound angry, just resigned.
No! Ginny's mind screamed. She looked at Ron, red-faced and shifting from foot to foot. It was true!
"And of course, because he didn't get the Snitch first, Malfoy cheerfully agreed?" Ginny's voice was dripping with sarcasm.
"Well, he wasn't there to ask, was he?" Hermione said cryptically. "Maybe Ron could tell you why?"
"That's enough," Ron said angrily.
Hermione clicked her tongue at Ron and Harry sighed. Ginny wanted to ask exactly what had happened at the match, but couldn't seem to get the question out. She had blocked the Bludger so there was no interference. Where was Malfoy when such an important decision was being made? She had several questions she wanted answered, but she fell asleep before she could ask.
Chapter 5
The chaos at breakfast was almost as bad as at dinner. Dean woke the Quidditch team early and got in a last strategy meeting. When other Gryffindors began to wander down to the Common Room, he led the team to breakfast. The Slytherin team also seemed to have decided on an early breakfast and both teams made a point of ignoring the other. The dining hall began to fill with students. The din from the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables grew to a dull roar as both houses shouted boasts and threats to the other. Dean looked at his team, all of them, Harry included, jittery with nerves.
"All right team, go get your brooms and robes and meet me in the locker room in five!"
Looking greatly relieved, the Gryffindor team rose and hurried out of the Great Hall. As they were climbing the stairs, they heard the noise from the hall grow louder, then softer again. Ginny glanced back to see Malfoy leading his team toward the dungeons. He reached the foot of the stairs and looked up. Ginny felt frozen to the spot. His face was blank of any expression, but his eyes burned into hers. She shivered, then turned and rushed up the stairs, catching up to her team.
Thirty minutes later, Harry jumped up from the locker room bench he'd been sitting on and pulled at his hair.
"Enough! Dean, please! I thought I'd go nuts if I heard 'Beat Slytherin' once more, but jeez!" He looked pleadingly at Dean and kneeled at his feet. Grabbing the hem of Dean's Quidditch robe, he begged, "Thirty minutes of tactics! The same plays over and over! Dean, I can't take it! Just shoot me!"
The rest of the team stared for a few seconds, then started laughing. Dean tried to look stern, but after a moment he joined them. When they had finally gotten themselves under control, Dean smiled sheepishly.
"Sorry about that, I guess we're all a bit nervous."
"Man, if that's how you handle nerves," Seamus teased, glancing meaningfully at Natalie, "I'd hate to see you on your wedding day. Ouch!"
Natalie punched him in the arm and the team broke up again. Any comment she might have added was cut off by a loud knock at the door.
"Thomas!" came the firm voice of Madam Hooch. "Five minutes," she yelled through the door.
The team fell silent and they were able to hear Madam Hooch knock on the door to the other locker room and give Malfoy the same message.
They looked at each other and Harry picked up his broom, a Firebolt XST, the newest model in the Firebolt line.
"Well, guys, this is it," he said.
They gathered their brooms, smoothed their robes and lined up behind Dean as he moved to the door. He turned and gave them a nervous smile.
"Do your best," he said simply. "And Harry, Malfoy really is a good Seeker. Try to get the Snitch first."
Harry looked a bit offended but Ginny spoke before he had a chance.
"Just keep Malfoy," she made his name sound like a foul word, "off the Snitch for twenty minutes." Her voice hardened even more. "We," she indicated herself, Nat and Colin, "will take care of the rest!"
Her teammates were stunned for a moment at the outburst. Then Natalie and Colin cheered, the rest joining in seconds later.
Dean opened the door and led them out, all of them now shouting, "Gry-ffin- DOR! Gry-ffin-DOR!"
As they filed onto the pitch, Ron moved to Ginny's side. Placing a hand on her arm, he turned her toward him.
"Ginny," he said quietly, "I'm seriously worried about you. Is anything wrong?"
She looked into his familiar face and felt the urge to let everything come flooding out: her encounters with Malfoy, her initial fear of him, how she found herself attracted to him in spite of herself, and her suspicions that he had been leading her on, just to make a fool of her. The sounds from the stands broke into her thoughts. Not here, this wasn't the place or time. And, again, it was her problem. Ron would certainly try to kill Malfoy if she said anything. She shook her head and gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.
"Nothing I can't handle, Ron. Now let's worry about the game."
They hurried after the rest of the team, Ron feeling that Ginny's reassuring smile wasn't the least bit reassuring. He felt more concerned than ever. What on earth could cause sweet, quiet, and shy Ginny to turn into such a bitchy she-devil? He could guess the answer in one word: Malfoy!
The teams were lined up opposite each other with Madam Hooch going over the basic rules and advising them against fouling other players. Ron felt his anger at that bastard Malfoy building again. Especially when he noted the way the git seemed to be ignoring Madam Hooch and staring at Ginny. He wanted to strangle the Slytherin team Captain. Ginny was staring back, pale and trembling, but looking as though she would gladly inflict serious harm on Malfoy. I was right, thought Ron. He has hurt her.
As Madam Hooch blew her whistle and shouted, "Mount your brooms!" Ron silently vowed that Malfoy would pay.
The first few minutes of the match were a blur as both sets of Chasers jostled one another for the Quaffle. Natalie came up with it first and made a dash for the Slytherin goal. The Slytherin Chasers were following closely, but Colin and Ginny took up flanking positions above and below Nat. As the Slytherins closed in on her, Natalie slowed and dropped the Quaffle right into Ginny's waiting hands. Ginny sped ahead of the startled Slytherin Chasers, zoomed past the equally surprised Keeper and scored.
The crowd cheered wildly. The Gryffindor team had used an unusual and tactically dangerous play, but the risk had paid off. Now that the first score had been made, the teams settled down a bit.
Seamus and Harry zipped by Ginny and congratulated her. She was glad she'd found that play in her Chaser's guide, but knew it would not work a second time. Her book! She had forgotten again last night when Ron had been so concerned about her. Feeling sick, she looked around for Malfoy. He was near his own goal, shouting advice and instructions to his players while scanning for the Snitch. Had he read the book? Was he telling them how to counter the Gryffindor plays?
He couldn't have, she told herself. If he had, the last play wouldn't have worked because Ginny had circled and underlined it. Maybe he hadn't had a chance to use it yet? Or maybe, the small voice she was growing to detest said, just maybe, he was unwilling to take advantage of her? Hmph, she snorted, as though he would care who got in his way if it meant winning.
A sharp call from Dean brought her back to the present. The Slytherin Chasers were charging for the Gryffindor goal. Seamus and Ron were tied up with the Bludgers Millicent and Ian had batted toward their heads, so couldn't help block the Chasers. Ginny sent her broom speeding toward the goal, catching Colin's eye and giving him a quick hand signal. Then she and Nat flew quickly to intercept the Slytherin Chasers. Colin flew behind the goal hoops and hovered there. In case Slytherin missed the score, Colin could recover the Quaffle quickly and possibly score before Slytherin reacted.
Ginny was able to get ahead of the Slytherin who was carrying the Quaffle. She set up a blocking maneuver, and crossed her fingers. The inexperienced Slytherin Chaser swerved to the left where Natalie was flying just between and behind the Slytherins. The Slytherin girl passed the Quaffle to her teammate, but Natalie zipped between them and intercepted. She braked hard, spun her broom and sped to the Slytherin goal. The Keeper was as fast as Dean had said, but thanks to their summer together, Natalie was able to feint to the side, then come around and score Gryffindor's second goal.
Ginny gave a cheer and a quick high-five to Colin before looking around to see where everyone was. Harry was high above, still searching for the Snitch. Seamus was belting a Bludger away from Natalie, who was hurrying back into position. Where's Ron, she wondered? The game was going great, and she felt that even if that git, Malfoy got the Snitch, Gryffindor might be far enough ahead that it wouldn't matter. Where IS Ron, Ginny thought nervously? She looked below and saw Ron flying near Malfoy. They seemed to be arguing, Ron red-faced and gesturing wildly, Malfoy pale and looking ultra-controlled.
Ginny correctly assumed that Ron was questioning Malfoy about her and first felt irritation that he couldn't mind his own business. Her irritation turned to alarm as Madam Hooch gave Ron a warning about harassing the Seeker.
Damn him, she thought. He's going to foul Malfoy and give Slytherin a penalty shot! Ginny tried to get Dean's attention, but play had resumed and Slytherin was making another drive for the goal! Ginny turned her broom and then heard Seamus yell at her to duck. She instinctively lowered herself over the broom handle and felt the rush of air past her temple as the Bludger only just missed clouting her. She shuddered. Bludgers were dangerous and painful. Seamus hurried after and sent it spinning wildly the other direction.
"Sorry," he hollered. "That cow Bulstrode aimed straight for your head!" He flew off.
Ginny looked around again, seeing that Dean had blocked the goal attempt and was passing the Quaffle back to Colin. Then she saw several other things at once. Ron was still yelling at Malfoy, but Malfoy stiffened, made a comment to Ron, then dove toward the ground. From the corner of her eye she saw Harry dive, too. They've seen the Snitch, she thought anxiously.
Although she normally would have tried to find the flash that indicated the fast-moving little golden ball, for some reason she looked again at Ron. She gasped. Ron's face was a mask of anger and loathing as he glared at Malfoy. A Bludger swept toward Ron and he trapped it with his bat. Ginny sensed his intent and watched, horrified as he gave it a mighty whack straight at Malfoy's retreating form. She lay over her broom handle and pointed it on an intercept course, making as much speed as she could.
Things suddenly seemed to happen all at once. Looking down, Ginny saw Harry and Malfoy racing for the Snitch, Harry slightly ahead but Malfoy gaining quickly. She glanced around and saw the Bludger flying at Malfoy. He doesn't even know what's coming, she thought wildly. She seemed to be gaining on Malfoy so slowly that she looked up to check the Bludger again. It was headed directly for her face.
"Ginny! NO!" Ron yelled, horrified.
Ginny let out one loud cry and ducked, covering her head with her arms. As she lost her balance and started to tumble from her broom, Ginny saw Malfoy look up, startled. His eyes widened and he pulled his broom up. Then her head exploded with pain and she fell into blackness.
Pain! There was so much pain! She heard quick snatches of conversation, but couldn't make any sense of what she heard.
An angry, worried voice, "Get the hell off! Just tell me where to take her!" Ginny was aware of strong arms holding her tightly, and the smell of sweat and something else, strangely familiar. She was jostled and the pain exploded again. She blacked out.
Another voice, soft, concerned. "She will be all right if you will let me do my job." More movement and more pain. Then the blackness again.
The angry voice was back. "You bloody son of a bitch! Tried to kill me, you just got her!" There were sounds of shouting and a scuffle. Her head was pounding. Gods, why couldn't they just be quiet?
She must have said it out loud because there was immediate silence followed by the sound of hurrying footsteps.
"You lot! Back outside, now!" Ginny recognized the strident tones of Madam Pomfrey. "Having a row in the hospital wing. I thought all of you would have more sense! I'll speak to your heads of house if you don't move off instantly."
Ginny sighed into the blessed quiet. She could make out many sets of feet shuffling out of the hospital ward, but couldn't seem to open her eyes to watch. She felt so tired. She started slightly as she felt a cool hand on her forehead.
"How do you feel now, Miss Weasley? Can you open your eyes?"
Ginny obediently tried to open her eyes, only partially successful.
"Very good," beamed the healer witch. "Now that you've regained consciousness, I'm sending you back to sleep." She pulled out her wand and conjured a glass containing a dark green, vile smelling potion. "Drink this," she commanded brusquely.
Ginny tried to turn away from the horrid-smelling concoction, causing pain to shoot through her head again, but Madam Pomfrey took a firm hold on her chin and held the glass to her lips.
"Don't be squeamish, Miss Weasley," she admonished sternly. "It will help the pain and let you sleep."
Ginny forced herself to swallow a mouthful, then lay back, exhausted. As she was slipping into slumber, Ginny felt Madam Pomfrey pull a blanket over her and tuck it in around her.
Ginny came awake slowly. She heard quiet whispering and turned her head toward the voices.
"Damn!" she hissed as the pain shot through her head.
Someone clicked their tongue, and Hermione stuck her head around the curtain surrounding Ginny's bed.
"I know you had six foul-mouthed brothers," Hermione teased, "but it doesn't mean you have to talk like them. How are you, Ginny?"
Hermione came to Ginny's side and gave her a small smile. Ginny grimaced. The curtain rattled and Ron, Harry and Natalie joined Hermione. They crowded around the bed, all of them speaking at the same time. Ginny couldn't seem to concentrate on any of them. She squeezed her eyes shut and put her fingers to her temples.
"Could you please just shut up?" Her gritted question brought immediate silence. She sighed, relieved, and looked at them again.
Ron took her hand awkwardly, his face drawn and pale. He looked so miserable, Ginny had to smile.
"You stupid git," she teased weakly. "What were you trying to do?"
Ron shuffled his feet and mumbled something, but was interrupted when Madam Pomfrey pushed back the curtain completely and fixed a glare on Ginny's visitors.
"Back up, now," she demanded imperiously, motioning them away. "Didn't I tell you lot to fetch me when she woke?"
She fastened her steely glare on Hermione, who bit her lip and flushed slightly. "And you a Prefect! Now, go wait somewhere else, until I call you back."
She herded them away and closed the curtain again.
"There, now, let me look at you and see how you are doing. Let's get this blanket off you. Do you think you can sit up?"
Ginny gritted her teeth and nodded. The healer, surprisingly strong for her slight build, helped Ginny into a sitting position, legs dangling over the bed. Ginny looked down at her legs and gave a slight start. She was not wearing the Quidditch robe, blue jeans and tee shirt she had begun the day in. Instead, she was wearing a pair of bright orange Chudley Cannons boxer shorts she'd appropriated from Ron's laundry over the summer, and a cropped black tee shirt with a (non-moving) picture of The Broomstick Boys, a popular teen rock group. She looked wide-eyed at the healer.
Madam Pomfrey clicked her tongue, disapprovingly, and explained. "Miss Granger brought what she said was your usual sleep wear. We couldn't leave you in the soiled robes you were wearing. In my day, however, young ladies did not parade about--" she stopped abruptly at the glazed look that suddenly entered Ginny's eyes.
"Well, let me examine you, then."
Despite her brusque manner, Madam Pomfrey's hands were extremely gentle. She examined Ginny's head and neck, delicately probing the lump at the back of Ginny's head. Ginny winced, but remained still. The healer continued the exam, checking reflexes, muscle strength, and mobility. Illuminating her wand, Madam Pomfrey looked into Ginny's pupils, then finally began asking the now exhausted girl what seemed to be idiotic questions.
"What's your name?"
"Ginny Weasley."
"What day is it?"
Ginny's headache was coming back, but she answered steadily enough. "Saturday, uh, unless your potion made me sleep all night."
"Saturday is correct. You've only slept a few hours. What's the date?"
"October 26th."
"And who is the current Minister of Magic?"
Ginny paused for a moment before muttering, "Cornelius Fudge, the git." Now her head was beginning to pound.
Madam Pomfrey gave her a sharp look, but let it pass.
"Miss Weasley, where are you?" she asked.
This was enough!
"I'm in the hospital wing, my head is killing me, and you're asking stupid questions anyone could answer!"
Madam Pomfrey narrowed her eyes and gave Ginny a withering look.
"You're injured and in pain, Miss Weasley, but that doesn't give you the right to abuse those trying to help you. Now lie back."
Ginny was immediately contrite and apologized to the healer. Madam Pomfrey's cool manner thawed a bit as she conjured another glass, this time with a lemony yellow-green potion.
"I understand, Miss Weasley. I know that if you weren't injured you would never have said something like that. You've always been such a well- mannered, delightful student in the Magical Healing classes. Now, drink this," she said as she brought the glass to Ginny's lips.
The liquid was not as foul smelling as the previous draught had been. Ginny took a cautious sip. It tasted slightly salty, but not too unpleasant. Ginny took two large swallows, then lay back again. Madam Pomfrey put the glass on the table beside Ginny's bed.
"The draught I gave you has a mild pain killer, but more important, it is a fairly strong sedative. I'll allow your visitors to remain, but you'll probably be asleep within five minutes. If you wake in the night and need anything, simply summon me."
The healer indicated the small box of light gray powder sitting next to the special, long burning candle toward the rear of the bedside table. Similar to the powder used by the wizarding community to communicate through fireplaces, this was especially useful for hospital patients.
Ginny nodded, again wincing slightly. Madam Pomfrey opened the curtains, muttering about students attacking one another during games, and what was the world coming to. She spoke briefly with Hermione, then strode swiftly down the hall and back to her office.
Ginny was already feeling the effects of the potion. The ache in her head was lessening, and she even managed a smile at Ron, Harry and Hermione. She looked around quickly. Hermione, misinterpreting the look, stepped forward and took one of Ginny's hands.
"Nat went to tell everyone you're going to be okay," she explained.
Ginny looked quickly up at Hermione and decided not to explain that she had actually been looking for someone with silver-blond hair and gray eyes.
Hermione looked as though she had been crying, but her voice was quite steady now.
"We were so worried, Ginny. You were so still and pale when Ma--"
Ron bumped Hermione out of the way and interrupted. "You looked dead when they brought you in!" Ron didn't look so well himself, she thought.
Harry had hung back at first, but now he took Ginny's other hand and asked, "Are you okay, Gin?"
Ginny yawned; she couldn't help it. "Bit sleepy," she murmured fuzzily. "Glad we beat Slytherin, though."
She yawned again, then noticed the frozen looks on their faces. "What?" she asked, wishing she didn't feel so tired.
Hermione and Harry were looking at Ron. He looked away, his face turning red. Hermione crossed her arms and gave Ron a glare.
"Go ahead, tell her, Ron."
"Well, someone tell me," Ginny said anxiously.
Harry released Ginny's hand and looked away from Ron. Ginny wanted to scream. If only she wasn't so tired. Finally, Harry spoke up.
"We didn't win the match," he said in a strained voice.
Ginny looked from one to the other, hoping it was a bad joke. Their faces said otherwise.
"But, I don't-you mean Malfoy got the Snitch?" Ginny was confused and the pain in her head was creeping back.
"Oh, no, Harry got the Snitch all right, but his efforts and yours were wasted because of Ron's stupid Bludger!" Hermione snapped, giving Ron a disgusted look.
Ginny was now totally bewildered. "If Harry got the Snitch, then why..." she trailed off into another yawn.
"Dean seemed to feel that sending a Bludger straight at Malfoy's head and you falling off your broom constituted an unfair distraction. He asked Madam Hooch for a rematch." Harry didn't sound angry, just resigned.
No! Ginny's mind screamed. She looked at Ron, red-faced and shifting from foot to foot. It was true!
"And of course, because he didn't get the Snitch first, Malfoy cheerfully agreed?" Ginny's voice was dripping with sarcasm.
"Well, he wasn't there to ask, was he?" Hermione said cryptically. "Maybe Ron could tell you why?"
"That's enough," Ron said angrily.
Hermione clicked her tongue at Ron and Harry sighed. Ginny wanted to ask exactly what had happened at the match, but couldn't seem to get the question out. She had blocked the Bludger so there was no interference. Where was Malfoy when such an important decision was being made? She had several questions she wanted answered, but she fell asleep before she could ask.
