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Harry Potter and the Psychic Serpent
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Chapter Five
The Ringer
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The next morning they all kept bumping into each other while preparing to go to Diagon Alley. After they'd eaten they each had to step into the kitchen fireplace one by one after Mrs. Weasley had thrown in a pinch of Floo powder and they had to yell loudly, "Diagon Alley!" and make sure they got out at the right grate. Mrs. Weasley was staying at home with Charlie; Bill would accompany them on their shopping. He went first, followed by Ron, Ginny, Harry, George, Hermione and Fred. Mr. Weasley and Percy had already Apparated to work at the Ministry; they'd had to walk out to the lane to do it, though, since the house was now an Apparition-free zone.
They landed with a thump in Madam Malkin's robe shop. Hermione was the only one who didn't need new school robes; she just wanted one nice one for feasts and dates.
"I haven't grown any taller in the previous year," she sighed. "I seem to have just stopped..."
"You look fine to me," Bill told her, smiling. Hermione turned away, reddening. Harry got a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach and felt, for the first time since he'd known him, an almost irresistible urge to kick Bill in his dragon skin boot-covered shins.
George and Fred were going into their seventh year. "Don't want to look like rubbish, our last year," Fred said. "Go out with a bang."
They had the Triwizard Tournament winnings Harry had given them and they'd invested some of it, to make sure they wouldn't spend it and it would be there for them when they finished school (their father's idea). But some of it they did just want to spend. Fred and George started examining the nicest robes in the shop and Harry joined them, thinking that it would be better for his prefect badge to be on some really nice robes. He hadn't mentioned being a prefect—nor had Hermione—since arriving at the Burrow. After the way Percy had behaved while a prefect, he didn't want the Weasleys to think he was full of himself. Harry felt Ron's eyes on him while he and Ginny sorted through second-hand robes; they'd both grown quite a bit in the previous year. Ginny towered over Hermione.
First Harry needed to withdraw money from the bank. When he told Bill he was going to Gringott's, Bill started to come with him but Harry stopped him. "Shouldn't you stay with the others?" Bill looked torn. "Listen," Harry said. "I'll be at Gringott's. You work there. Goblins all over the place. I'll be fine. Stay with them," he said, nodding at the others. Bill relented.
"Hurry back."
He did and stood for what felt like an excruciating length of time having his new robes measured. These were by far the nicest robes he'd ever had; examining himself in the mirror, he felt strangely grown up, and realized that he resembled his father more than ever. I really need that haircut, Harry thought, so I'll look like me instead. The mirror yelled back at him after a time, "All right! All right! You're gorgeous! Give it a rest!"
Next they went to Flourish and Blotts for their books. In addition to The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5 and other fifth-year versions of books they'd already been using for the previous four years, Harry and Hermione also needed Taking the O.W.L.s: Preparing Yourself for the Worst Experience of Your Life, by Eglantine Etude. Fred and George gave Ron the copy they'd shared; this year they were going to share Percy's old copy of Taking the Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests (N.E.W.T.s): And You Thought the O.W.L.s Were Bad, again by Eglantine Etude. Harry also noticed that the Sweetbriar Publishing Anthology of Muggle Literature was on the fifth-year list, so he picked up a copy. It had quite a lot in it: plays (Shakespeare, Shaw, Chekhov), some short stories, (The Lottery, Gift of the Magi) and even entire novels (Lord of the Flies, Tess of the D'Urbervilles). He wondered what subject it was for. It'll make good reading, in any case, Harry thought. It was like a whole library by itself, magically packed into one average-sized book. He noticed that Ron crossed it off his list but didn't buy it.
When they had replenished their potions supplies at the apothecary they decided to eat lunch at an outdoor cafe. On the way they passed Quality Quidditch Supplies. Fred and George stopped, their faces glued to the window glass before turning to each other, nodding, and telling the others to wait for them.
"We'll be right back," said George.
Ten minutes later Fred and George emerged from the shop carrying four long packages. They handed two to Ron and Ginny. "Belated birthday presents! From your loving brothers!" Fred said.
"My birthday was three-and-a-half months ago," Ron whinged. "And you forgot it entirely!"
"I hope it's better than my not-belated birthday present," Ginny began.
"That's what you get for having April Fool's Day for your birthday, Gin," George said. "Open it!"
She and Ron tore the paper off their packages. Inside were brand new, shining Nimbus 2001 brooms. Ginny exclaimed over hers. "The top of the line is the Nimbus 3000 now. And the Firebolt, of course. But these are a damn sight better than what you've been riding," said Fred. "Don't worry; we didn't get ourselves Nimbus 3000's or Firebolts. Ours are the same as yours. Otherwise we couldn't have afforded four of them. These are marked down now."
Ginny hugged Fred and George in turn. "Oh, it's beautiful! Thank you! Thank you!" She paused. "Do you have any money left now?"
Fred and George looked at each other. "Actually, no. But we can wait until we get home to eat."
"No need," Harry said magnanimously. "Lunch is on me!"
Ron still stared at his Nimbus 2001, mouth open. "I've never had a new broom before."
Fred shrugged. "Well, like I said, it's not top of the line, but—"
Ron beamed. "I don't care. Thanks, Fred! And you, George!"
His brothers laughed. "You're welcome, Ron," Fred said. Ron was still gazing rapturously at his new broom. Fred cleared his throat. "Would you two like to be alone? A little soft music, some wine…"
They all laughed and Ron colored, putting the packaging back on the broom to protect it. He cradled it in his arms like it was a baby as they walked to the cafe.
They spent a good deal of time at lunch, laughing and talking, overlapping conversations going on simultaneously while they ate. Harry almost didn't notice a very pretty girl with chin-length shining black hair standing beside his chair until he rose to throw out his rubbish and almost knocked her over.
"Oh! I didn't see you!" he said, trying to recover his balance. It was Cho Chang, the sixth-year Ravenclaw Seeker. Harry recognized some other Ravenclaws, holding shopping bags from Madam Malkin's and Flourish and Blotts, standing a few yards away. "How are you?" he asked, trying to shut out the feeling of overwhelming guilt again, the image of Cedric's lifeless body…
"Can I talk to you alone for a minute, Harry?" Cho asked. He peered uncertainly at Bill.
"I'll stay in sight," he informed Bill, and he led her to an empty table out of earshot of the others. Hermione and Ginny were watching them. "What's up?" he asked when they'd reached the empty table.
She took a deep breath, as if what she was going to do took a great deal of courage. "Harry—on our first weekend trip to Hogsmeade, would you like to go out with me?"
Harry groaned inwardly; a year ago, he'd have given anything to hear her say those words. Then came the Triwizard Tournament. He drew his mouth into a line, trying to think of the most painless way to let her down, other than the truth. Sorry, I can't go out with you because every time I see you I suffer from crushing, paralyzing, debilitating guilt because it's my fault your previous boyfriend is dead.
He was casting about for an excuse, a way out of this extremely awkward situation, when he had a sudden brainstorm. "All right," he said. "Only—could we double-date with Viktor Krum and Hermione? Her folks are a little nervous about her seeing someone who's already out of school, and this way they won't be alone."
"Double date?" she echoed, considering this proposal. "All right. I suppose so." She eyed the other Ravenclaws, who were waving to her. "I have to be going. See you on the train?"
"Probably," Harry replied. "Until tomorrow!"
She smiled shyly. "Until tomorrow." She rejoined her friends, who huddled around her, obviously getting the lowdown on what happened between the two of them. Harry returned to the table and picked up the bill, taking out his money bag to pay. He calmly gave the waitress five gold Galleons; he wanted to leave her a generous tip after what Fred and George had put her through. Bill had got her name so he could owl her.
Hermione couldn't take it anymore. Finally she burst out, "Well? What was all that about?"
Harry smiled. "That was me being sneaky. She asked me out. And I was trying to figure out how to tactfully turn her down—"
Bill was floored; he'd seen how pretty she was. "Why?"
Harry sighed. "Because of blinding guilt. Cedric Diggory was her boyfriend." Bill nodded; Harry went on. "Anyway, I got a great idea, and I told her I'd go out with her if we double-dated with you and Viktor. You see? You see?"
Hermione frowned. "No."
"We'll fix them up! We'll arrange for them to be alone together a lot—they're both Seekers, they have that in common—and we'll be beastly to them, without actually breaking up with them, and before you know it, Viktor's going to be looking pretty good to her, and Cho's going to be looking good to him, and Viktor will break up with you instead of you having to break up with him, and Cho will break up with me, and they'll be together and your problem will be solved!" Harry stopped, breathless.
George's mouth hung open. "Did I hear you say Hermione doesn't want to be with Viktor Krum anymore?"
"Yes," Harry hissed. "But keep it quiet. If Cho finds out that's why I said I'd go out with her my name would be mud, and so would Hermione's." Ginny was perplexed.
"But, Hermione, when you wrote to me when you first arrived in Bulgaria, you said—"
"Not now, Ginny!" Hermione whispered, running her finger across her throat. Ginny still seemed confused. She turned to Harry.
"So," she said softly, "you don't fancy Cho Chang anymore?"
"I don't hate her, but I don't want to go out with her."
"And yet you are."
"Just until we can get her and Viktor thrown together enough times."
Ginny nodded but seemed unconvinced. Their conversation had gone largely unnoticed except by Hermione. George and Fred were deciding who was going to be on whose team when they returned to the Burrow to play Quidditch after lunch.
"Ron will be a Keeper and Harry can be on his team as Seeker," George said. "They can have Bill for their Chaser and Hermione'll be their Beater." Hermione turned her head suddenly when she heard this.
"Hold on, George, me and broomsticks—"
"You'll be fine. You can use Ginny's old Cleansweep. It's slow as molasses. And as Beater, all you have to do is whack the Bludgers—"
"So I have to fly with one hand?" she said, horrified.
"Anyway," Fred interjected before she could raise more objections. "That means I get to be Chaser on our team, George can be our Beater, and we'll take it easy on you gits; it wouldn't be fair for Charlie to play Seeker, so he'll play Keeper and we'll have Ginny as Seeker." George and Fred exchanged mischievous glances. What're they up to? wondered Harry. Ginny herself seemed like she was bursting. Charlie must be an unbeatable Keeper as well as an expert Seeker, thought Harry. Well, it all comes down to who gets the Snitch.
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"One-hundred to nothing!" Bill cried triumphantly as he put the Quaffle past Charlie for the tenth time, only to scream and swerve as a Bludger hurtled at him from Hermione's paddle.
"Dammit, Hermione!" he bellowed. "For the last time, we're on the same side!"
"Oops!" she yelled from the other end of the makeshift pitch. "Sorry!" She'd been blindly whacking Bludgers throughout the match, mostly in the direction of Harry, Ron and Bill, it seemed, though Fred and Ginny had had some near misses. Harry flew in circles near where Ron played Keeper, hovering before the middle hoop. He scanned the field, searching for the Snitch. Ginny didn't seem to be paying much attention at all. She laughed at something George said and the two of them chided Charlie. To Harry's confusion, it turned out that Charlie was a terrible Keeper. And Ron was a great one. It helped that Fred was playing Chaser for them, which he didn't do on the school team; he usually played Beater alongside George. But Fred had got off some nice shots that seemed guaranteed to give the other side some points before Ron intercepted every one of them. Harry was impressed. He was starting to wonder at the way Fred had distributed the players, however. Hermione was a menace, mostly to her own side, but Bill was an impressive Chaser and Ron seemed unbeatable as a Keeper. Meanwhile, every Quaffle got past Charlie, George was a competent Beater who had to spend half his time ducking wild Bludgers from Hermione, and Fred wasn't up to getting a Quaffle past Ron at all. That left Harry as Seeker on his side, and Ginny on the other. Why didn't Fred claim me for his team? he wondered.
But he blinked and suddenly there was Ginny, flying around the pitch holding the struggling Snitch over her head in triumph, her face glowing. Fred, George and Charlie hooted with delight.
"One-fifty to one-hundred, our game!" cried Fred, laughing.
Harry stared at Ginny. Her long red hair flew out behind her, she seemed like she couldn't stop smiling if she tried, and he felt a grin creeping over his own face, though he wasn't used to losing at Quidditch. Hermione glared at him with narrowed eyes.
They played three more matches and each time, though Harry's team was up by more than one-hundred points, Ginny grabbed the Snitch and won for the other side. Harry never saw it until it was clutched in her hand.
It was almost time for dinner and they had to rise early the next day to go to London, so they decided to stop playing. George, Fred, Charlie and Ginny couldn't stop laughing. Bill clapped Harry on the shoulder. "I should have warned you," he said. "Or I should have insisted on changing teams."
"What?" Harry was confused.
"Well, I reckoned, it was you, Harry. If anyone could beat her, I thought you could, after seeing you get past that dragon last year. And I knew Ron was unbeatable as a Keeper."
"You mean—"
"Ginny's a ringer!" Fred howled with glee.
"Sorry, Harry. It was too funny seeing the expression on your face." Charlie guffawed.
George put his arm around Harry's shoulder. "You see, Harry," George started to explain in what Harry thought of as his spiffing-wot-wot imitation-Percy voice, "Ginny is a ringer. A natural Seeker, like Charlie. She can do it with her eyes shut and in her sleep. You never had a prayer."
"What do you mean, like me?" asked Charlie. "I've never beaten her." Ginny blushed. "But she's not interested in playing at school."
"All those people watching..." she whispered shyly, not meeting Harry's eyes.
"Oi!" yelled Fred, sounding like Hermione when she was trying to get a teacher to call on her who was ignoring her (usually Snape). "Oi, oi, oi!"
"What's with you?" Bill snarled.
"I just realized; Oliver's out of school now, and with the Triwizard Tournament last year, there wasn't any Quidditch, so we didn't have to think about it, but we need a new captain and a new Keeper for the Gryffindor team!"
"Yeah," Harry agreed. "I forgot all about that."
"And you can be the new captain, Harry!" Fred cried triumphantly.
"Me? What about you?"
"I don't want the responsibility. Rousing people out of bed for early morning practice, boring people silly with strategy sessions…"
"And you think I'd be any good at that? I never even gave much thought to strategy; I usually just keep an eye out for the Snitch…"
"But, Harry, you have clout! We'd have for our captain Harry Potter, who defeated You-Know-Who! Harry Potter, winner of the Triwizard Tournament! Come on, Harry—"
"Okay, okay. But—who actually decides who's captain?"
"The other players. George and I will vote for you, and we'll tell the others to. I don't think Alicia wants it; she's Head Girl, already has enough to do. And Angelina and Katie probably don't want it, so that leaves you."
"Of course we still need a Keeper—"
"As captain, you can pick the new Keeper."
Harry smiled at Ron. "Then I pick Ron. You want to? Of course, it won't be official until I'm elected captain, but it sounds like Fred and George have thought of everything."
Ron didn't jump immediately at the chance, though. "Well—it's not that I don't want to be Keeper, but when I play, I also like to be Chaser. I'm also pretty good at that, not to brag—"
"Well," Harry thought fast, "you can be Keeper, but you can also be a reserve Chaser, in case anything happens to one of them. Then—I can be reserve Keeper and—" he trailed off, trying to flesh out the playing roster in his mind. He had a sudden inspiration. "And Ginny can be the reserve Seeker!"
Ginny jerked her head up, opening her mouth to protest before she caught sight of the pleading expression on Harry's face. She closed her mouth, and she and Harry looked at each other; he didn't mind gazing at her for as long as it took to get her to say—
"All right. I'll do it."
Harry threw his arms around her and picked her up in a twirling hug, like when he'd got off the Knight Bus the previous evening. When he put her down, she was redder than he'd ever seen her, trying hard not to seem deliriously happy and failing horribly. Hermione practically had steam coming out of her ears. She turned her back on them all and trudged back to the Burrow without speaking to anyone.
"What's with her?" Ron said, watching her go.
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