Chapter Two - Ginny's Lessons
Ginny yawned widely as she wandered through the cold morning air onto the Quidditch pitch. She shivered violently before tilting her head back to look up at the impossibly high goal hoops, and spectator stands, the tops of which disappeared into a heavy early morning fog.
This is what Harry looked upon before every game, only with hundreds of pairs of eyes looking down on him. She'd known he'd faced an enormous amount of pressure, being the Seeker, but now she could almost see why he was turned off his meals so before an upcoming game, and why he got so tempermental.
She could feel her own stomach begin to swim with nerves as she paced, hearing and feeling the frost laden grass crunch beneath her feet. She looked up when she thought she heard footsteps a time or two, but no one was there.
She felt a breeze come up, and was thankful for the tattered but marvelously warm green robes falling over her arms and legs. Her dragon hide gloved hands twisted around her broomstick, which she was already miserable over - Malfoy would fall over laughing when he saw her old Cleansweep Five.
Finally she heard heavy footsteps coming near just as the fog began to at last lift, and the sky to lighten.
Malfoy, clad in plain black and green school robes, appeared out of the swirling remnants of fog, a broom in each hand.
"What'd you do? Oversleep?" Ginny couldn't help snapping at him. She was violently adverse to the jump in her stomach when she saw the good-looking Slytherin swagger towards her, scowling, his longish white hair flowing like an avenging angels. She made a face. Where on Earth had that thought come from?
He looked at her coldly, and then caught sight of the broom in her hands, and sighed in disgust. "For God's sake, Weasley, toss that piece of rubbish - put it out of its misery." He tossed her one of the brooms in his hands.
Ginny had to drop the Cleansweep to the ground to catch the one he threw her. She eyed it suspiciously. "What's this?"
"If I have to tell you, Weasel, it's not going to do any good trying to teach you Quidditch." He grinned maliciously, and she noticed tiny dimples in his pale, lean cheeks.
"Sod off," she said grumpily, trying not to stare at his flashing, too sharp white teeth. Bloody Vampire... She turned the handle in her hands swallowing a gasp when she saw the gold lettering on it. "A Firebolt?"
"You can't expect me to have to work with the shoddy material you have available," he smirked, shouldering his own latest Firebolt II.
Ginny ran a hand over the smooth, heavy handle and sighed. "Fine." She looked warily at his still grinning face, a lump of doubt settling in her stomach. She had the very real feeling she'd regret this. For one, she'd never seen Draco Malfoy show his teeth in a grin for any amount of time - strike that, she'd never seen Draco Malfoy grin.
"You've got to lean in the direction you want it to go, Weasley!" Malfoy called for seemed the hundredth time.
Ginny tried yet again, and ended up on her rear in the grass - again. She bit back a whimper and tears so hard she drew blood on the inside of her cheek. 'I must look like a total idiot,' she thought, hating herself vehemently. 'Malfoy must really be enjoying himself right now - '
"Weasley, you all right?" He landed next to her with a grace she'd have given a million Galleons for just then.
She shook off her frustration and stood, walking to where her broom lay in the grass. "Up!" The broom stubbornly stayed put, and she growled low in her throat. She turned on Malfoy. "What did you do to it?"
"What are you talking about? Don't take your inabilities out on me."
She stalked up to him and grabbed the front of his robes; ignoring the sudden leap in her heartbeat when she caught the cool, clean scent of his cologne coming from his warm skin. "You hexed it, didn't you, you dirty little rotter!"
Malfoy looked down at her coolly from beneath heavily lidded eyes. "I didn't, and you might want to watch who you're accusing of being little, Tiny." He pried her gloved fingers from his robes, smoothing the heavy, expensive material.
"You're telling me you didn't put any hexes on that broom of yours?"
"No, I'm so sorry to say your misfortune has been all your own doing," he muttered meanly, standing over the Firebolt. "Up!"
Ginny watched miserably as the broom flew up into his waiting grasp, and he started back towards the school. She didn't even bother threatening him with telling a professor about his little midnight escapades - it was hopeless, she'd never be good enough to make the Quidditch team this year, Harry would never notice her.
"I think we better start a little earlier tomorrow, in regards to your pitiful show of basic skill. Here, Five a.m., Weasley." Malfoy's dry, snide voice carried back to her over his shoulder before he disappeared over a small hill.
Ginny stared after him, bemused, and then winced as she stood - every muscle in her body ached -and she only had three weeks until the trials for the Gryffindor team.
She groaned miserably as she gathered her robes around her and started back towards the castle. But what wouldn't she do to finally get Harry's attention?
The Care Of Magical Creatures class looked promising this year, Ginny decided that afternoon, after having seen what Hagrid had in store for them. He had tried not to show her any favoritism, but Hagrid had kept her close during the lesson, her being the only fifth year Gryffindor in a mass of Ravenclaws and Slytherins.
While Ginny and the Ravenclaws ohhed and ahhed over Fawkes, the magnificent Phoenix who resided at the school, the Slytherins tried to look bored and unimpressed.
Ginny carefully fed the large, jewel-eyed scarlet bird a handful of special herbs and smiled at Hagrid. "He's beautiful - how did you manage to get him for class this year?"
"Well, Dumbledore, he 'cided 'ter 'elp me out in pickin' the creature this year. Guess I 'aven't been makin' ther best choices. Fawkes seemed happy 'ter 'elp us out." He looked a little embarrassed.
"I thought the Hippogriff's were amazing," she assured him, grinning. "Just think what could have happened if you hadn't decided to teach about them." She didn't say a word about the blast-ended skrewts.
This seemed to cheer him a bit, and he began telling the class about the healing properties of the Phoenix's tears.
Ginny only half listened, so taken with the gentle mannered bird that she watched it all through class.
She jumped when the bird suddenly disappeared.
"See? The Phoenix can disappear 'n reappear whenever it wants." Hagrid said as Fawkes became visible again, and tucked his head under his wing, nibbling fastidiously at his feathers.
"Now, who kin tell me where the Phoenix is us'ally found at?"
Ginny found herself gently stroking Fawkes' magnificent head, hardly aware of what she was doing. Fawkes closed his eyes, allowing her to run her hand over his warm, smooth feathers. Ginny was smiling, and then Fawkes sang out a single long note suddenly, making the Slytherins gasp and cover their ears, and Ginny's heart swell with some unknown emotion - she wished Harry were near, suddenly.
As the clear, trilling note ended, Ginny stepped away from the Phoenix as Hagrid and the rest of the class stared at her. She blinked, and then felt herself flush. Thankfully, the class was at its end, and they all soon moved off. Hagrid walked over to Ginny and eyed her before looking over at the now sleeping Fawkes. "Guess he likes ya, eh, Gin?"
She grinned. "Yes, I guess so. I like him too, Hagrid."
Ginny said her goodbyes before rushing off to Herbology. Excitement filled her suddenly at the thought of practicing with Malfoy in the morning- she knew she was going to make the team. She just knew it!
Draco found himself looking over at the youngest Weasley all through dinner that evening. She looked very different from that morning, almost radiant. Her eyes and skin fairly glowed in the candlelight, and there was an air of confidence around her that Potter and half the other Gryffindor boys seemed to have finally noticed and latched onto. Boys, talking animatedly, surrounded her and he could hear her laughter like tinkling bells from across the space that separated them. He noticed Potter was eyeing her interestedly, and felt a sudden urge to go over and -
"Draco, what are you glaring at?" Pansy Parkinson, seated across from him, eyed him suspiciously. "I swear. You look at Harry Potter more than anyone else in this school. You'd better watch it, or people may start to get ideas - "
"Sod off, Parkinson," he snapped, silver eyes blazing threateningly. "Or do you really want to know how the Malfoy men got rid of their annoying exes in the past?"
Pansy paled, her eyes downcast as Crabbe and Goyle sniggered from their places next to Draco. It was a well-known fact he'd dumped her at the beginning of the year-and she was desperate to get back at him by any means possible for embarrassing her.
Draco let the threatening silence stretch out for a long moment and then sighed in disgust, pushing up from the table and his half eaten dinner. He swept regally out of the hall, making his way towards the Slytherin dungeons to reluctantly work on his homework.
With Snape's increasingly difficult potions to learn, he managed to push Ginny Weasley to the back of his mind, thankfully. Then later, he stood from his brooding in the chair before the fire in the Slytherin common room and went to his bed, only to dream of a miniscule red-haired girl flying a broomstick annoyingly around his head.
"Took your time getting here, Weasley," Draco said grouchily as Ginny finally showed up, almost fifteen minutes late.
"Leave me alone, Malfoy," she yawned, rubbing her eyes. "It's too early for me to have to put up with the likes of you - there should be a law against it."
He narrowed his eyes at her in the gray darkness. "What's wrong? Spend all night chatting up Potter?"
Ginny frowned at him, stalking forward to swipe the Firebolt she'd used yesterday from his hands. "Not that it's any of your business, but we did have a nice, private talk last night," she lied, just to annoy him.
Draco watched her eyes go soft and bit back a snarl. He turned on his heel and mounted his broom. "C'mon, we haven't got all day!"
Ginny watched him speed off and lap the pitch, surprised at the anger she'd heard in his usually cold, controlled voice. She mentally shrugged, and mounted the broom, barely feeling the aches and pains from her falls the previous day. She was so utterly happy, she felt like she could do anything!
The winds were unusually strong that morning, but the Firebolt was more than up to the challenge - and Ginny was too. She found herself in a race with Draco at one point, the cold air making the skin on her face sting as they lapped the pitch together.
After reaching dizzying heights and nauseating speeds, Ginny saw him take off for the ground and reluctantly followed. Her landing was impossibly smooth, and she blinked before smiling, pleased with herself. Her legs felt rubbery though, and she had to sit down hard on her bruised rear before she fell down.
Draco heard a soft squeal behind him and he saw Ginny lose her balance and fall right into a muddy patch of grass, causing it to splash up over her robes. He couldn't help it; he was a Malfoy after all - he laughed.
Ginny squinted up at him gloomily. "You could have warned me about landing after being on the broom for so long. I may have found someplace a bit cleaner to fall on."
Draco kept laughing, his face going red. "Sorry…oh, who am I kidding, I'm really not! That was bloody hilarious!"
After giving him a look that would have sent Ron running but was completely lost on Malfoy, Ginny looked thoughtfully down at her robes before a wicked gleam came into her brown eyes and she said sweetly, "Malfoy?"
He looked at her. "What?" And promptly received a fistful of mud in the chest.
It was Ginny's turn to howl.
Draco stared down at the filth on his chest with revulsion and ground his teeth. "That. Was. A. Mistake." He bit off each word with a cold fury that should have made the tiny redhead run for her life. Of course, she didn't, which made Draco doubt the sanity of the Weasley Family.
Ginny looked up at him mischievously, a speck of dark mud on her cheek. "Oh, lighten up, Malfoy. Didn't you ever make mud pies as a child?"
He looked at her, horrified. "Me? Mud Pies? Are you insane, woman? Malfoy's do not meander in dirt."
She shook her head, slowly getting up. "I feel sorry for you. Didn't you ever get to play outside?"
He straightened his shoulders indignantly. "Of course not. I had - other things to do." Like learn the dark arts from my bastard father, he thought angrily.
"Hmmm, it's no wonder you're so pale, then. Not enough sunlight." She said this as an afterthought, before brushing the mud from her gloves and mounting the Firebolt again.
"I'm pale because of my genes - it has nothing to do with sunlight." He walked away, mumbling, and came back dragging a heavy chest a few minutes later.
Ginny felt her eyes widen when he opened it-inside sat two heavy bludgers, a bright red quaffle, and a shiny golden snitch. He pulled out the quaffle and closed the lid.
"Well, we won't bother with the snitch - you have no use for that…and as much as I'd like seeing you being chased by the bludgers, I think it would be frowned upon to let you get killed-so for now, we'll just use the Quaffle. You'll probably be good at being a chaser, fast as you are. But in a few days you'll have to be able to score while dodging the bludgers - the beaters can't take care of every one hit at you during a game."
Ginny felt a shiver of foreboding at his mention of the bludgers, but she shook it off and followed him up above the pitch.
"Let's see if you can get the quaffle past me and through the hoop," he called, tossing her the red ball.
She swallowed back a nervous laugh and caught it, then thought of Harry. He'd be at the trials, no doubt. She had to get this right, had to impress him. He'd be watching. Her confidence wavered, and just then Malfoy said something insulting about how slow she was.
Ginny felt her heartbeat begin to race as she flew towards the three posts. Malfoy was smirking boredly as he watched her approach.
At the last moment, Ginny made as if to throw the Quaffle past him-he veered slightly, leaving an opening, and she threw the quaffle into the air slamming against it with the tail of her broom, and sending it streaking through the post hoop just past his ear, scoring.
Malfoy cursed and grabbed his stinging ear, giving her a murderous glare from where he hovered in mid-air.
Ginny grinned, shrugging, and dived suddenly, soaring through the goal posts to retrieve the slowly sinking quaffle.
Draco looked after her with grudging respect. She was a fast learner, the smarmy little brat. After that disaster yesterday, he wouldn't have thought she'd ever be able to come this far, this quickly.
He rubbed his stinging ear ruefully, and prepared himself as she came towards the goals again, determination evident in her eyes. He almost felt sorry for Potter - she meant to have him-and he didn't doubt that she would.
The day of the trials dawned sunny and bright, although the air was cold and crisp. The wind was heavy again, and Ginny felt a nasty sense of foreboding tying her stomach into knots.
She rose early, and dressed, twisting half of her hair up into a ponytail at the back of her head-the rest she left falling over her shoulders.
Surprisingly, the great hall was brimming with students, everyone chattering excitedly, wolfing down their breakfasts. She passed Malfoy on her way to the Gryffindor table, and he sent her a flashing look from beneath heavily lidded eyes and smirked. "Break a leg, Weasley."
Ginny wanted to kick his shin as she brushed past him, but put her small nose in the air and moved on.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were already there, talking about the trials- well, Harry and Ron were, anyway. Hermione looked as bored with their talk of Quidditch as she ever did, and had her nose buried in her Herbology book as she absentmindedly sipped her pumpkin juice.
"Morning!" Ginny said cheerfully, throwing her self down on a bench across from them.
"Hey, Gin," Ron flashed her a brief smile before tackling his plate of eggs and bacon.
"Hi."
She looked over and felt a shot like a cold silver arrow go through her chest as she met Harry's emerald colored eyes. She smiled at him and then ducked her head to grab a bagel and place it on her plate. She wasn't hungry at all. She almost knocked over her pumpkin juice when she reached for it at the same time as Harry said, "So are you coming to watch the trials, Ginny?"
She recovered quickly, taking a huge swallow before she smiled weakly, not daring to look at him, "Er - yes, I think so."
Hermione chose that moment to close her book and look across at Ginny. "Good, I can sit with you then. I have to show my support, right?" She sounded anything but thrilled at the prospect.
Harry shook his head and Ginny watched him poke at the food on his plate. So he was nervous too. She didn't know why - it wasn't a game - plus, he was the seeker. He had a guaranteed place on the team!
Ron frowned suddenly, looking over her shoulder.
She looked at him questioningly when he met her eyes. She looked down and realized she'd mangled the bagel. "What?"
He narrowed his eyes. "Why is that Slytherin Malfoy staring at you?"
Ginny wanted to drop right through the floor. She thought fast as she saw Harry's head shoot up, looking over at Malfoy suspiciously.
Laughing lightly, she shrugged and took another drink. "I don't know - guess it could be because I accidentally stepped on his robes on the way in this morning - you know how he is - holds a grudge 'till death, that one."
Ron grinned at her, snorting. "Yeah. Let me know if he bugs you - we'll see about turning him into a ferret again."
Harry was still frowning though, his eyes moving from her to Malfoy and back again, looking thoughtful. Finally he said, "Yes, let us know if he bothers you." He looked at Ron and laughed. "I think he looked better as a ferret."
Ginny sighed when the attention was diverted from her, and she managed to choke down a bite of bagel before they all got up and moved out of doors to the Quidditch pitch.
As they walked she realized she didn't have her broom. Horrified, she stopped in her tracks, looking back up at the castle.
"What's wrong?" Harry said as he bumped into her, reaching up to steady her and then readjust his glasses.
"Oh-er, nothing, sorry," she turned back and walked on stiffly - how could she not have thought of this? And even if she had brought her broom, ugh, it was far too old…she'd never have enough speed! Bloody hell!
When they got to the field, she was ready to pull her hair out by the roots in a nervous fit, and Ron was threatening to tie her to her seat in the stands if she didn't stop jumping so much. The climb to the stands was awful.
Ginny felt the blood drain from her face as Ron and Harry disappeared back down to the field. This was it then - all that work, all that time putting up with Malfoy, wasted -
"Hey!"
Ginny blinked through her misery to see what Hermione was shouting at - a huge brown owl was swooping down, and Ginny flinched as it dropped along package into her lap.
Hermione glared after the rude, departing owl and looked down at Ginny's lap curiously. "What's that?"
Ginny tore off the brown paper and string and gasped - the very Firebolt Malfoy had loaned her was gleaming in the sunlight, freshly waxed and serviced. Hermione made a very confused sound as Ginny shrieked, whooped and generally made a spectacle of herself, and hopped up immediately and taking off down the flights of stairs leading to the stands.
"Ginny?"
She waved back at Hermione - she certainly didn't have time to explain- and almost killed herself getting down the steps around other curious looking students.
She burst out of the bottom of the Gryffindor stands feeling unbearably nervous and excited, the sun warm on her face and the cold wind making her teeth hurt as she grinned until her face was sore. She couldn't help it-she was so happy - and Malfoy had done it! She felt a surge of something hot and searing in her chest as she thought of what he'd done for her. But she didn't have time to think about it now - the Gryffindor trials were beginning!
Draco hid a huge grin with some difficulty as he saw Ginny just freak out and make a mad dash for the stairs across the field from him. Stupid chit, he tried to tell himself, but it wasn't working. He was happy…actually truly happy, and it was just from watching that silly little Weasley's face light up from seeing that dumb old broom.
He settled back into his seat to watch her explain all of this to Potter. It should prove to be very amusing…
Harry turned as Ginny rushed up, his old gold and scarlet Quidditch practice robes making him look utterly, unbelievably tasty... She had a not-so-innocent vision about a certain emerald-eyed Seeker looking at her, not so friendly and more and more wicked, like a certain disdainful, aristocratic looking Slytherin - she spaced there for a moment, but only for a moment.
'Oh dear Merlin, give me strength- damn Malfoy for putting all this stuff into my head!'
"Ginny! What's wrong, what are you doing here?" Harry looked down at her in confusion, his eyes shimmering in the bright morning sunlight. "Why…are you holding a broom?" He bent his head to the side, as if examining her. "Are you feeling well?"
She grinned, her heart expanding hugely. "Harry, I'm fine! I'm just excited!"
"Gin, only students trying out are supposed to be down on the pitch - oh, no, you can't possibly be thinking about -"
"Yes, I am, and don't you even think about trying to stop me, Harry Potter! I've worked my ass off for this!"
Harry blinked, taken aback by her determination. Who'd have thought little Ginny Weasley could feel so fiercely about something? She'd always been so quieting; so unassuming, drifting around; peeking out at him shyly from behind Ron - he was pulled out of his reverie by sudden shouts. He looked over and saw Ginny yanking her broom from Ron's hands angrily.
"I am not going to let you kill yourself off, Ginny! I don't know what made you even think about doing this -"
"Ron, I am not your little sister anymore! I want to do this, I'm going to do this, and you can't stop me!" With that, Ginny tugged her Firebolt free and stalked several feet away to put her name on the trial list, and hand over her wand for safekeeping.
Harry walked over to Ron, who was red faced and frowning darkly. "What's this all about?"
He looked worried.
Ron snarled out something rude and then snapped, "I don't bloody know, but I bet it has something to do with that Firebolt in her hands!"
Harry looked over at the broomstick in Ginny's gloved hands and his eyebrows rose several inches. "It is a Firebolt. I wonder where she got that from."
"She sure as hell couldn't have afforded it, even that older model. Something's funny here," Ron muttered looking around angrily, clenching his fists.
"Maybe she's just been saving up." Harry ran a hand through his glossy black hair, suddenly troubled. "Do you think she's been cursed?"
"I'm not doubting it - this is just so unlike her."
Ginny looked back over at them then, a mysterious smile playing over her lips as her eyes met Harry's.
Swallowing a sudden lump in his throat, he found himself grinning back at her dumbly, oblivious to Ron dragging him forward, until he almost tripped over his own boots. He felt his cheeks redden, and he cleared his throat, focusing on her forehead only to find himself noticing how soft and long her lustrous, golden red hair looked tumbling around her shoulders -
"HARRY!"
"What?" He jumped, blinking, raising a hand to absently rub the scar n his forehead.
Ron scowled at him. "They're ready for us now."
"Oh, right." Harry cleared his head with some difficulty, squinting against the sunlight as he mounted his Firebolt II, and kicked off into the air.
A game was going to be played this year, and the Team captains were going to pick from the best players. Luckily, Gryffindor had drawn Ravenclaw instead of Slytherin - Ginny looked on in relief. She really didn't think she could play against Malfoy today.
No points were being awarded-it was just a simple practice game in which the aspiring players could show off their skills in hopes of being chosen to play as a beater or a chaser or keeper for their house team.
Ginny took her position as a Chaser, and fought to keep her heart out of her throat as Madam Hooch, who was overseeing the try- outs, blew hard on her whistle, and kicked open the chest containing the bludgers. The game had begun. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the snitch dart past her, and Harry's clear. Bright green gaze met her eyes briefly but intensely as he tore past her after it, robes flying.
Before she really knew what was going on, someone had tossed her the quaffle, and two bludgers were headed her way - she turned tail and shot off, the Firebolt turning smoothly as she made her way down the field toward the Ravenclaw goals. She heard a hard cracking sound and a sharp zing not far off from her left shoulder, and knew that one of the beaters had hit a bludger away from her-she had no idea where the other one was. She saw the Ravenclaw Keeper looming up before her, a determined frown on his face -she remembered Malfoy's face when she'd shot that quaffle past his ear - and she grinned, picking up speed almost alarmingly.
She heard Ron shouting from behind her, saw Harry pause in his search out of the corner of her eye, heard a collective gasp from the crowd.
The Ravenclaw keeper's eyes widened as she gained on him, showing no signs of stopping, obviously thinking she was insane as she grinned at him disarmingly-he dove out of her way as she neared him, and she tossed the quaffle through the hoop with ease before making a sudden, steep almost vertical climb so as not to run through the goal herself.
A roar ran through the spectators, and Ginny found herself racing upwards in giddy loops before diving back into the thick of the game. Harry was still staring at her, eyes wide in shock, and the snitch darted nearly in front of his nose before he took after it again, the Ravenclaw seeker Cho Chang not far behind.
As she passed the Slytherin stands, she winked imperceptibly over at Malfoy, who was leaning back lazily in his seat, arms crossed over his chest, face unreadable, but his eyes twinkling as if to say "I did that, that's my work."
"You rock!" Ron was yelling over two-dozen other Gryffindor's as Ginny entered the common room, ecstatic but drooping tiredly. "My sister is a wicked Chaser!"
Ginny fell into an overstuffed chair, wincing. Her rear was numb, her thighs sore and raw. She'd made the team, though, and Harry Potter had certainly noticed.
Ron collapsed on the chair arm next to her, his robes grass and sweat stained. He looked over at her, grinning, the freckles on his face standing out on his red wind-burned cheeks. "Imagine, that! My little sister is a Chaser for Gryffindor, and a damned good one at that! Who'd have thought?"
Ginny felt her limbs trembling from fatigue, and rested her head back against her chair, closing her eyes. Instead of Harry's handsome smiling face, Draco Malfoy's pale, smirking features looked back at her. She sat forward with a gasp, groaning. "Oh, no. No, no, no! This cannot be happening to me!"
Her brother looked at her like she was crazy. "I thought this was what you wanted."
"No not that you twit!" Ginny ran a hand through her wind-tangled curls, realizing that at some point her hair tie had pulled free. She probably looked like a crazy person. She had to be a crazy person, in point of fact. That had to be the reason - for she just realized she was in love with Draco Malfoy!
TBC
(Edited 8/7/06)