Time Changes Everything
A fan fiction by Pottergirl
Everything belongs to J.K.Rowling, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Hi there!
Here's the next chapter, and for those of you who are getting frustrated that H/G isn't coming, well good news, it's just around the bend…now, I wouldn't want to ruin your fun or I would have told you in these authors' notes what's coming in this chapter!
And please review, it only encourages me to out up more chapters quickly!
Chapter 7: The Match & The Aftermath
Harry saw the snitch hovering in the air, far away, and his first instinct was to fly off towards it. But, then, his eyes caught sight of Malfoy, on his broom, right below it, smirking at Harry. He pointed to the snitch, and laughed out loudly. Harry felt sick. He urged his broom to go faster while Malfoy just kept laughing at him, and when Harry was barely five feet away, Malfoy lifted his arm, and caught the snitch's wings daintily between his fingers. The game was over. Harry felt himself stop in mid air, then fall un-controllably. His broom had vanished, and he fell hard onto cold ground.
Harry got up. It was dark. Everything around him was dark. This didn't look like a Quidditch pitch in daylight. He rubbed his arm, which was aching badly from the fall. But the fall from where? He scrambled to his feet, and encountered thick velvet cloth in front of him.
Harry took a moment to realize that he was not in a Quidditch pitch, and he had not lost any match. He was in his dormitory, standing before his bed's velvet curtains, and in all means, he was quite safe. He let out a breath of relief. Checking his watch, he realized it was only ten past five in the morning. He still had about two hours until any one went down for breakfast. The match was scheduled right after breakfast, and no classes were to be missed. This was seen to by the staff, and they had arranged the match on a weekend.
Harry felt wide-awake. He definitely did not feel like sleeping. His stomach did a funny twist as he thought about the up coming match. He was captain of Gryffindor, leading his team. He had to win. They had to win. Harry felt the pre-match nervous attacks coming on, and he made up his mind.
He dressed into his school robes, grabbed his Firebolt, and left the dormitory. He decided some flying in the early morning air would help calm his nerves. He crossed the common room, and stepped out of Gryffindor tower, heading towards the Entrance Hall.
Harry felt he had left all his worries and tension on the ground as the Firebolt rose in the air. The rush of early morning air through his hair gave him a familiar, calming feeling. He breathed in contentedly. This was where he was supposed to be. In the air, on his Firebolt, playing his most favorite of all games in the world.
Harry went higher, until he could see the whole of the Hogwarts lake and Forbidden forest stretching below him. The early morning sunlight streaked across the calm surface of the lake, making it appear like a smooth sheet of silvered glass. The whole view was entrancing. Harry did a few laps around the Quidditch field, and did a few loop-the-loops to warm up for the match. The day was clear, and cool. Perfect for a Quidditch match, and especially against the Slytherins when you had to look out for any mischief or foul play from the Slytherin side.
Harry flew around for about a quarter of an hour. He went for a long lap around the circumference of the pitch, when his eyes fell on the ground, near the stands. A solitary figure clad in school robes was sitting on the field on the dewy early morning grass. Harry could recognize that person anywhere. It was a Weasley, with red hair that were quite long, spread out over the shoulders. It was Ginny Weasley. Harry told himself, as he stared down at her, still flying, that she was not here to watch him early in the morning. No one knew he was out here. Harry smiled. Her smile was so pretty, and the way her eyes twinkled every time she smiled was quite beautiful.
Harry continued flying but then made up his mind, deciding to go down, and see what Ginny was doing. He explained to himself that he had been flying for quite sometime, and he didn't want to anymore. And therefore, quite eagerly, he turned his broom around abruptly, and flew towards the ground.
Ginny looked at Harry, far up in the sky. He flew very well, she decided, and he seemed to be flying himself, instead of riding his Firebolt. His robes flew out behind him, and his untidy hair, became even more unruly and messy when he was soaring through the air. She could see him up there in the pre-dawn, darkish sky though she couldn't exactly make out his face. She wondered if he'd seen her down there or not. It was wonderful being able to just look at him from a distance without Fred and George giving her knowing looks.
She noticed Harry streaking towards here, descending all the while. He had noticed her then. Ginny smiled as he landed on the grass beside her, gracefully, and took up his broom on his shoulder.
'Good morning! How're you here?' Harry, asked, breathless, feeling how much he was panting, when he was on the ground.
'Oh…just, y'know, I got up early and came out here, it's really beautiful out here in the morning,' Ginny sighed. Harry nodded.
'Mind if I sit down' he asked, Ginny shook her head mutely, and Harry sat down. Right. He was there, sitting beside her, and she was tongue-tied.
'You fly really well,' she said, softly. Harry grinned at her.
'Thanks, I love my Firebolt, and so flying is really fun,' he said, earnestly. Ginny nodded.
'You got that Firebolt from Sirius,' she said. It was more a statement than a question. Harry turned sharply to look at her, his eyes quite wide, his expression surprised. Apart from himself, only Ron, Hermione and Professors Dumbledore and Lupin knew about Sirius, and that he had gotten his Firebolt from him.
'You - you know about Sirius?' he asked, surprised. Ginny smiled a slight, lop sided smile, and plucked a blade of grass, shredding it to pieces.
'I don't exactly know,' she explained. 'I would never be told of course! Dad happened to be telling that to mum over the summer, and I over heard. It's stupid, I never get to know about anything. Ron told me everything when we were small, and now he's been hiding such a big thing from me…'
Harry looked at her, feeling very awkward. Many people had not known about that secret. He felt quite sorry, even if he knew they had never wanted to tell many people before Sirius was proved innocent.
'Ginny,' he said softly, 'It's not that way…Ron would have told if it was possible, we never told any body, other than Professor Dumbledore and Professor Lupin.'
Ginny nodded.
'I didn't mean it that way…I meant…it's not like I can't keep a secret, I mean, secrets are safe with me…it happened once, it wont happen again.' Ginny felt a shiver pass through her but she tried to brush it aside. Thinking of her first year still brought back only bad memories.
Harry felt sorry for her. She had almost died in her first year when Voldemort had put her under his spell, making her do horrible things. On impulse, he reached for her hand, taking it in his, surprising her.
'That wasn't your fault, Ginny…it was Voldemort's trick, he did that…he can't do it again…' he said, softly, squeezing her hand. Ginny nodded.
'I'm sorry, I've acted like a stupid kid, whining and all,' she said, smiling at him. Harry gently let go of her hands, and grinned.
'That's not whining,' he said.
'Ready for the match then?' Ginny nodded and asked, considerably happier, changing the topic abruptly.
'Yeah, wonder how Malfoy's coming up with his team. They got a whole week of practice before the match, and we didn't get any,' Harry said.
'Yeah,' said Ginny, 'I heard about Snape bagging the pitch.'
Harry snorted.
'Bagging…' he echoed thoughtfully.
'Well, it was illegal,' said Ginny adamantly. Harry looked at her.
'You're like Hermione…turn everything into a fight against injustice, though you are right,' he said.
'Hungry?' Ginny asked, grinning about what Harry thought of her.
'Come to think of it, yeah…why?' Harry asked, rubbing his stomach, which suddenly seemed to rumble from the very sound of the word 'Hungry'.
Ginny grinned, took out her wand, waved it casually in the air, and a plate of warm toast, with pieces of butter on top, suddenly materialized from nowhere.
'I don't know if you like buttered toast but I do,' said Ginny, offering him the plate. Harry took one.
'I like it fine but how did you do that?' he asked, quite surprised. Ginny chuckled.
'Fred and George told me about it. Apparently, they use it a lot,' she said, taking a large bite.
'That's good,' said Harry, taking a bit himself, feeling quite relaxed, out the in the open, on the cool Quidditch field in the early morning, stretched out beside Ginny.
'If you happen to know, we have a match today, captain!'
Harry and Ginny turned around, and Harry realized, probably for the first time, that it was quite light, the sun having risen and quite far up in the sky. He never remembered talking so much with any girl other than Hermione in his entire life and it had felt good.
Ron was standing behind him with Hermione. He was all dressed up in Quidditch robes, and was looking at Harry incredulously.
Harry sprang to his feet, and checked his watch. There were about twenty minutes left for the match, and he had completely lost track of time as he and Ginny had talked while consuming two platefuls of hot buttered toast.
'Oh no,' Harry groaned, and picked up his Firebolt from the grass.
'You'd better hurry up,' said Hermione, with a bit of a grin on her face, and flicking her eyes towards Ginny, who was now up on her feet.
'Honestly! I was searching everywhere for you. Fred suggested you were somewhere killing yourself out of nerves. Oliver tried that once,' said Ron.
Harry sprinted off towards the school while calling out,
'Be there in the changing rooms!'
Ginny giggled. 'Guess we lost track of time.'
'We? Right. Harry's almost late for his first match as Captain, just because you two were sitting here talking…he hasn't even had his breakfast!' Ron said. Ginny turned a little red, and placed her hands on her hips.
'We just forgot, and he did eat something, I conjured up buttered toast, and we ate two plates between us,' she said. Ron rubbed his stomach.
'Two? I couldn't take a nibble. My stomach's going all twisty and strange,' he groaned.
'You should have eaten something, Ron. The effects of stress and tension on an empty stomach are-' Hermione was admonishing but Ron would take none of it.
'If I had eaten something, it wouldn't have gone past my throat!'
Ginny giggled, and Hermione caught her eyes briefly. Ginny pushed back her red hair, which were glinting brilliantly in the morning sun light. She seemed so cheerful.
'Come on Hermione, let's go find good seats in the stands,' she said, starting off.
Ron was heard to mutter something that contained the word "Harry".
Ginny turned around sharply.
'What did you just say?' she asked, her voice steely. Ron stepped back, but she could see him smiling.
'Nothing!' Ron said, quickly.
Ginny looked at him intently, almost glaring, then she stepped up to him, and hugged him tightly, smiling.
'Good luck for your match, Ron. Win for us,' she whispered to him. Ron stepped back, grinning. He got another encouraging hug, and a quick kiss from Hermione before he left, a little red in the face.
Harry paced the changing rooms. He stopped, and turned to face his team. Fred, George and Ron were trying to hide their chuckles but were not very successful. Angelina, Alicia and Katie were being better. They weren't chuckling but they were smiling widely.
'It's not that funny,' said Harry, feeling his intense nerves build up again.
'It's just that you look just like Oliver,' said George.
'And any moment you'll start spluttering, and trying to find words for a good pep talk,' said Fred, grinning.
'Oh shut it, you two,' Ron muttered, grinning at Harry. Harry sighed, and smiled back.
'Well, I don't have to really say anything, do I? Let's just go out there, and show the Slytherins that one week of no training never mattered!' he said, trying to inject confidence into his voice.
There were exaggerated, ferocious growls from Fred and George, and even Harry had to chuckle.
'Great, Ron, first match…this'll be fun,' said Harry, joining Ron, and handing him his broom.
'If we win,' Ron muttered, darkly. Harry grinned at him, and then felt his grin fade away as he stepped out of the changing rooms.
The field was packed as usual, as it was a match between rival houses- Gryffindor and Slytherin. There was an eruption of cheers from the crowds in the stands as both teams walked onto the pitch from opposite ends. Lee Jordan, in his final year, was the commentator as usual. His voice boomed loudly, as the teams lined up.
'Potter, Weasley, Weasley, Weasley- wow, three Weasleys- Bell, Spinnet and Johnson from Gryffindor. Potter's the new captain with Ronald Weasley as Keeper. Well, this match will tell what kind of side Potter's prepared to face Slytherins in the first match of the year! Ronald Weasley, tall, red hair, exactly like his brothers, excellent talent in chess. He loves Chocolate Frogs, and hates studying. Let's see how he turns out to be!'
Ron felt himself go red. He looked up at the stands. Hermione and Ginny were right at the top, and he could see Hermione grinning down at him. She gave him a thumbs up sign, and Ron waved back, grinning madly.
'Well,' said Lee, seeming he was about to yawn. 'Here we have the Slytherins- Malfoy, Goyle, Jacques, Ityre, Ostre, Ivanov and Grant. Malfoy's captain this year. It seems he has finally been able to influence some of the rather- er-er… well then-' Lee had been artfully stopped from saying anything revealing by Snape. He had out done even Professor Mc Gonagall by coming up, covering the mouth piece of the magical megaphone Lee was holding, and taken off ten points from Gryffindor.
A rather indignant Lee continued.
'Well, then- Malfoy's included Gregory Goyle this year as Beater, after Marcus Flint left last year. The rest of the side remains un changed and Malfoy's captaining skills will be judged in this match.'
Harry took a deep breath and looked over at the stands. Hermione was sitting there. With Ginny. He grinned, and waved at them.
Madam Hooch was the referee. She came up to the teams.
'Captains! Shake hands!' she commanded. Harry stepped forwards, and shook hands with Malfoy quickly. When Malfoy caught Harry's eyes, he grinned devilishly. Harry shook his hands very grimly, and returned Malfoy's look with one just the same.
'Mount your brooms!'
The teams mounted their brooms on Madam Hooch's order. She blew her whistle loudly, and the teams kicked off. The Bludgers, Quaffle and Snitch were released, and they entered the game. Within moments, a game was in full swing.
Ron and Jacques positioned themselves, guarding the scoring loops on each's own side of the field. Harry flew up higher, watching the game from his vantage point, also keeping a look out for the Snitch. Malfoy was about thirty yards away, looking out for the Snitch too. Harry looked over towards Ron, who was guarding the Gryffindor goal post with a look of sheer determination on his face, gripping his club tightly. His eyes were on the game, following the Quaffle.
There was a loud cheer from all the pro-Gryffindors in the crowds as Angelina scored by neatly putting the Quaffle past Jacques into the loops. Harry felt better. They were ten points up, and capturing the Snitch would be good to end the game quickly before Slytherin gained any points.
Harry descended, and turned to where Malfoy was hovering, looking out for the Snitch with narrowed, gray eyes. Harry flew towards the stands, to the Slytherin end. A Bludger whistled past him, barely missing him, and he was caught off guard. He shook himself mentally, and saw Fred fly off after the Bludger, probably to victimize Malfoy in return.
Harry turned around, and at that moment, a loud cheer erupted. Slytherin had scored, and now Gryffindor and Slytherin were at equal scores. Harry sped off to the Gryffindor side, hoping for a quick sighting of the Snitch. They had to win the game. If they lost, by any chance, it would definitely be bad for himself and Gryffindor. He was Captain.
Harry flew higher, and stopped mid-air to look at the game below. The Chasers, Angelina, Katie and Alicia were doing a good job with the Quaffle, not letting it remain for long within possession of a Slytherin. There was a loud, angry shout just then.
Malfoy seemed to have become misbalanced. He reseated himself, and Harry realized the reason for his state of anger. Fred and George were nearby, chuckling. A Bludger had almost knocked Malfoy off his broom. Harry grinned. He saw Fred go after the Bludger again, and even though Harry wanted to see what would happen next, he knew this was his chance. He could search for the Snitch.
There was a loud cheer. Harry looked down, to see Katie, Angelina and Alicia cheering. Ron had saved a goal from the Slytherins, who looked quite downcast. Ron had a bit of a grin on his face, and he looked up. Harry caught his eyes, and gave him a thumbs - up.
Harry gripped his Firebolt tightly, and peered down, his eyes looking out for the slightest hint of gold.
And there it was.
Right in the middle of the game, fluttering around slowly. Harry knew going for it could be trouble. The Snitch was nestled right in the middle of a tough struggle between the Chasers of the two teams. But he knew he probably would not be lucky again.
Without looking at Malfoy, Harry urged his broom downwards. He narrowly avoided a Bludger again. He was gaining speed, and he could see the Snitch, still there in the middle. The crowd realized what was happening and began cheering. Harry dared not look anywhere. He kept the Snitch within his sight.
He had to get it. He gripped his broom with one hand, and stretched his other hand out. Pete Ostre, a Slytherin Chaser saw Harry, zooming down towards him, and he realized what was happening. A big, burly boy, Pete was a genuine Slytherin. He grabbed his club, and as Harry flew past, he swung hard. The club struck Harry's Firebolt.
The crowd gasped. A silence fell over Harry's ears. He felt as if everything was happening in slow motion. His broom had been struck very hard by the Slytherin. The single hand with which we had gripped his Firebolt, flew off, and we was thrown off his broom.
His hand was still outstretched. He concentrated on the Snitch, forgetting he had no broom to stay airborne. Harry grabbed the Snitch in his out stretched hand, and realized for the first time, his very dangerous predicament.
He plunged his free hand into his robes, whipped out his wand, and bellowed,
'Accio Firebolt!!'
Whistling through the air, speeding towards him, was his Firebolt. Harry was falling, he saw the ground coming nearer. His dream of that night came back to him suddenly and he waited for the impact. This is the end, he thought. He could feel the Snitch struggling beneath his fingers, and while one part of him waited for the impact, another hoped.
There were screams from the crowd as they saw Harry falling. The height from which he was falling was too great, and everyone was on their feet.
Harry saw his Firebolt speeding down beside him, trying to catch up to him. He stretched his free hand and grabbed it. The ground was dangerously close, and in a split second, Harry turned the handle sharply so that the drop was no longer vertical. Hanging on to his broom, he felt himself reach within a yard to the ground. But the Firebolt was now speeding almost along the ground, and Harry could feel occasional contacts with the ground. He gripped his Firebolt tightly, and felt himself scrape the uneven, grassy field quite painfully. The Firebolt finally came to a stop, several yards from where Harry had first touched the ground.
Harry could not breathe for a moment. His hand, buried under him, seemed to be struggling. Blankly, he raised himself, and saw a little ball of gold clutched between his fingers.
Everything came back to Harry. They had won. He had the Snitch. And no one knew that.
Harry got up, desperate to spread the news. He saw the rest of his team zooming up to him. But all that mattered was the game. He remounted his Firebolt, and kicked off. Puzzled, his team mates looked at him. Harry held up the Snitch, and the crowd erupted into cheers. The game was officially over. Gryffindor had won. Harry could only see blurs of images, as he was engulfed by Fred and George, Ron's massive grin, and the crowd leaving the stands.
Harry had not realized how many scratches he had received when he had scraped the Quidditch pitch. He sat in the Hospital wing, grinning uncontrollably as Madam Pomfrey attended to his scratches.
'I can't believe you did that, Harry! That was…Wow!' Ron said, when Harry had told him everything, word by word, of what had happened.
'But that Ostre was the one who knocked you off, Harry, and I'm ready to bet it wasn't a mere accidental brush,' said Fred.
'Slytherin…what would you expect?' Katie said, sighing.
The door of the Hospital wing flung open, and in dashed Hermione and Ginny.
'What happened?' Ginny gasped, looking very concerned and worried.
'Nothing, the usual Quidditch match for Harry Potter…grab the Snitch, get knocked off his broom, win the game,' said Ron, grinning.
'Harry, are you alright?' Ginny asked.
'He's okay. Now, young man, no more acrobatics in the air for you or I'll confine you here for a whole month!' said Madam Pomfrey, and walked off, muttering about mad games and ruthless players.
'Harry, it was the Slytherin Chaser. I saw him hit you with his club!' Ginny exclaimed, looking quite horrified.
'And that's against the rules,' said Hermione.
'We can get Malfoy's neck for that, can't we?' said Angelina, grinning.
'We sure will,' said Ron, fiercely.
'Ron, you played brilliantly, and that save was really spectacular,' said Alicia.
Ron turned red, and mumbled his thanks.
'He could become like Oliver one day, then,' said George, grinning at Ron. Harry grinned at Ron. Hermione smiled at Ron proudly, and forgetting the presence of the others, she reached up and gave him a kiss.
'Hermione, not in here!' Ron, muttered, going scarlet while everybody else chuckled.
The Quidditch game between Gryffindor and Slytherin was not forgotten easily. Many people had seen Slytherin's foul play and fifty points were deducted from Slytherin for sabotaging the Gryffindor Seeker. To Harry, and all the other Gryffindor's delight, Malfoy had gone mad with fury, and shouted at Pete Ostre and the rest of his team for not winning their very first match. Harry's spectacular landing had flown around the school madly, and he and Ron were congratulated often as they passed people in the corridors.
October rolled by, and the grounds grew colder as November arrived. The O.W.L.s loomed closer, and Hermione seemed to have developed higher levels of panic. She increased her study hours, and was founding reading thick books in the Gryffindor common room almost every night. Ron grew quite irritated when she wouldn't leave her books even for a minute.
Harry had far serious worries. His scar had been hurting him slightly for a few weeks, every now and then, and he wanted a diversion…something to take his mind off things - to refresh himself. Quidditch practices were going tough in the cold, and even though Gryffindor were number one, followed by Slytherin, then Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, Harry was worried about the team. He wanted the Quidditch Cup to be theirs that year. At any cost.
Hufflepuff had a new captain after Diggory but the team wasn't able to pick up any victories against either Slytherin or Ravenclaw. Ravenclaw defeated Hufflepuff but not Slytherin, and since Slytherin had won against Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, they were at number two. Gryffindor had won both their matches after the one with Slytherin. They had defected Hufflepuff easily but Ravenclaw had out up a fight. Harry had noted Cho didn't seem to be too cheerful. They had talked for a while, and though Harry did not notice it, he did not blush. The simple crush seemed to be subsiding rather quickly. Why? He did not know.
Around the middle of November, Hermione came up to announce what she had heard as Prefect. There was going to be a Hogsmeade weekend in the third week of November. Ron was pleased, thankful for the Hogsmeade trip that would keep Hermione's eyes off her books for once. Even Harry liked the idea of going up to Hogsmeade. It would take his mind off things.
Harry, Ron and Hermione stepped put of the Entrance Hall, onto the grass surrounding Hogwarts. Covered up in thick cloaks and Gryffindor striped mufflers, they began their way to Hogsmeade. Ron was cheerfully telling Harry and Hermione about the newest stock at Zonko's and Honeydukes. Fred and George had told him so much from their recent "illegal" trips to Hogsmeade that he was really excited.
'…and they've got these new large gums that look like quills, and small, golden, winged toffees for Snitches…'
'Ron!' Hermione interrupted him, sounding impatient. 'Will you stop with the Quidditch talk? I have been hearing nothing else for the past few weeks!'
'Aw,' said Ron, sounding somber, as if sorry for her. 'We can't help winning every game and not talking about it, can we Harry?' Harry sighed, walking around a large boulder.
'I don't know…we are winning but we will have to face Slytherin in the end, I guess…for the final, and I know what levels of cheating they may resort to,' he said thoughtfully.
'Oh come on Harry, we're winning. I can already see our hands on that golden trophy,' Ron said dreamily. Hermione grinned, elbowing him in the ribs. She was proud of Ron. He had made several spectacular saves in recent games.
Harry sighed again.
'Harry, you don't have to be so worried. You're doing so well,' Hermione assured him.
Harry was not only troubled by Quidditch. The frequent pains in his scar, tough Quidditch practices, the looming O.W.L.s, less and less correspondence from Sirius, and the fact that he was doing nothing…else – everything was increasing his tension and worry. He didn't know anything about the Order other than what Dumbledore had told him on his first day back.
'You're right, I guess,' he muttered. Hermione raised an eyebrow and Ron shrugged.
Harry suddenly stopped in his tracks. He began searching in his pockets.
'What?' asked Ron, bewildered.
'Oh…great,' said Harry, pulling out a golden ball, and nothing else from his robes' pocket. 'I left my money in my trunk.'
'We'll go back for it, there's plenty of time,' said Ron.
'No,' said Harry. 'You go on, I'll meet you up at Honeydukes in a few minutes.' Hermione and Ron nodded.
'Hey, what's that Harry?' asked Ron, looking at the golden ball Harry was still holding in his hand. '.…oh…' Ron said, beginning to grin. 'Charmzirius, eh?'
Harry nodded and quickly pocketed it. Ron looked at Harry, frowning.
'But you never carry around the book I gave you for your birthday!' he protested. Hermione giggled.
'Or the set of pens I gave you,' she added.
Harry felt himself go red. He was surprised. He shouldn't be blushing at all. He just liked carrying it around…there was nothing personal.
'I just had it with me, okay?' he said, trying to keep a straight face. He knew there was no reason he should blush. Why should he? Yet, he felt himself go red.
'Okay,' he mumbled, looking at the chuckling pair. 'Go on…laugh…I'll go get my money.'
With that, Harry turned around swiftly, and trudged back up to the castle, still feeling a little warm. Why were they laughing? He wondered. It was nothing. If he liked keeping a birthday present with him in his pocket, there was no reason on earth why anybody should laugh about it.
Harry's thought's shifted abruptly. He thought of the person who had actually given him the Charmzirius.
Mischievous brown eyes that sparkled all the time. Bright red hair that shone shades of tartan, orange, copper and gold. A lively spirit, keeping her on her feet. A quiet, yet mysterious style.
Harry almost tripped on a stone. He shook himself mentally. Who was he thinking about? Ginny? No…but she was brilliant, totally unpredicted, lively, lovely…pretty…
Harry almost tripped again, and stretched out his hands to prevent himself from hitting the cold grass. He took a deep, impatient breath, and stopped. He turned around to look down at the sloping hillside. Ron and Hermione were well along their way, nearing the gates. They were walking arm-in-arm, heads bent towards each other, and Harry, though genuinely happy for them, felt a twinge of jealously. He was fifteen years old, after all.
He took another deep breath. The morning air wasn't doing good for him, he explained to himself. He was actually… falling for Ginny Weasley. But, he thought - this was…impossible. Yes…impossible.
How could I fall for her? I never fight with her like Ron and Hermione did. I never go around her like Ron did. I don't annoy her like Ron did. I don't…I don't just look like I am in love…Ginny and I do not look like Ron and Hermione.
Because you're different.
Harry was startled. He had actually thought that. They were different. Harry turned around, and sighed deeply. No, he thought. There was nothing between himself and Ginny. It was just that he was seeing her more closely, as a friend…nothing else. There weren't any incidents to prove otherwise. She hadn't said anything…and above all, something Ron had said…Ginny's crush over famous, good Harry Potter had blown over.
Harry ran his finger through his hair. He wasn't even supposed to be thinking of this. It meant nothing! There was nothing…and here he was thinking of his feelings for Ginny.
'Perfect time to think about…' thought Harry, not wanting to even complete his thought. He was afraid he might doubt the matter again. There was nothing!! She would never… he had never thought of Ginny that way. No…there never was…never will be.
She would never…but suppose she still did like him…Harry's heart was troubling him more than usual, combating his every attempt to cover up any secret feelings for Ginny. It kept throwing questions at Harry that seriously made him doubt his mind's stand.
Harry cleared his throat impatiently. When he had never thought of Ginny that way, why did he have to today? He squared his shoulders, held his head high and started walking again, determined not to look at Ron and Hermione.
Harry collected some money from his trunk, and put it into his robes' pocket. He ran past the common room where two first years sat doing their homework, apparently not going to Hogsmeade.
He quickly started for the Entrance Hall, and rounded a corner, colliding into something quite large and stiff.
'Mr. Potter! Do watch where you are going!'
Harry had stumbled but Professor McGonagall, whom he had collided into, was quite on her feet, not being affected much by the collision.
'Sorry, Professor,' said Harry, straightening his cloak.
'Are you going to Hogsmeade?' Professor McGonagall asked.
'Yes, I am-'
'Well, then hurry up. I do not want students running about in the corridors when they are to be either in Hogsmeade or in their towers,' the Professor said and walked off down the side corridor. Harry took a deep breath and continued on his way. He ran down a flight of stairs but was going to fall when the staircase suddenly moved, changing its position.
'Right, now all I need is a longer route,' Harry muttered, steadying himself by holding on to the side rail as the staircase turned.
Harry stepped off the staircase, and found himself on the second floor - right corridor. A longer route to the Entrance Hall. Quickly, he walked down the corridor. A large picture of beautiful mountain scenery hung on a wall, followed by-
'Sir Cadogan!' Harry said in surprise, stopping by a picture of a knight in shining armor, brandishing a sword. A horse grazed in a field behind him.
'Bend down upon your knee, Knave!' Sir Cadogan commanded. Harry chuckled.
'You are better down here where no one happens to pass by much,' he said, and started off.
'I challenge you!' Harry heard Sir Cadogan say. And then, he heard chuckles. No, not Sir Cadogan.
Harry turned around swiftly, and stood still.
'You Weasleys are pathetic! Thought you'd win a mere match and become heroes? Well, the real match hasn't begun yet!' he heard a voice say, rather closeby. Harry gritted his teeth. That was Malfoy, no mistaking that. And Weasley - he knew only one Weasley that could be inside the school at that moment - Ginny Weasley.
Harry looked around, waiting for Malfoy to speak again, so that his voice may direct him.
And then he heard something. A sob. Ginny!
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Wicked, aren't I? Bad cliffhanger? Well, the next chapter will be up very soon, I promise. Also, got your bit of H/G, didn't you? Poor Harry…I don't like making him suffer like that in his own thoughts, believe me…but it had to be! ^_^