Chapter Six: Slytherin Vs. Gryffindor
The weather was still rather dreary outside for the first Quidditch match of the season, Slytherin
vs. Gryffindor.
Ginny had joined Ron and Hermione in the bleachers; good seats at the edge of the stands, at
Hermione's request. "I don't think that Pepperup potion is working too well, perhaps some fresh
air will do you some good."
Hermione was right, a week had passed since the attack, and it was the first time that she had felt
halfway decent. And she was grateful to Hermione for wanting to include her.
But for Ginny, the best part of her day was this earlier this morning. She had finally mustered up
enough courage to wish Harry luck in the match at breakfast. He had simply thanked her and
gave her a smile, but it had meant the world to Ginny, making her feel better than any potion
ever could.
Ginny smiled to herself at the thought as the balls were released onto the pitch. She could hear
the mad clicking of Colin's camera not too far away from her.
She continued to watch Harry, who now appeared to be talking to Malfoy. She thought that
Malfoy was no doubt insulting Harry somehow. But suddenly, the pair of Quidditch players were
interrupted by a Bludger whipping past Harry's head.
"Whoa! That was a close one!" Ron said to Hermione, who had also seen the near miss.
George pelted the Bludger away from Harry, but it turned around back towards Harry, barely
missing his head again.
Ginny watched Harry, her teeth gritted, as he tried to outrun the Bludger at the other end of the
pitch. She knew instantly, that something had gone terribly wrong.
She was relieved momentarily as Fred hit the Bludger away before it had caught up to Harry again.
Colin had now made his way up to the front of the stands, continuing to take pictures shouting,
"What a great shot!" as he leaned over for a better one.
Meanwhile, the Slytherins were scoring left and right. Now that Fred and George were flying
close to protect him, Angelina, Katie and Alicia were having trouble keeping the other Bludger
at bay. The scoreboard now read Slytherin 60, Gryffindor 0.
Ginny's jaw clenched even harder as it began to rain, making the visibility even worse for the
team. She could make out Harry, and could see that he was constantly wiping the rain away from
his glasses, in a vain attempt to keep it from impairing his vision.
"Ron, I don't believe that Bludger is supposed to do that," Hermione asked, with concern in her voice.
And then Ron saw it too.
"You're right, Hermione," he said slowly, not taking his eyes off his friend. "There's something
not right about that Bludger."
While Ron and Hermione discussed the obviously troublesome Bludger, Ginny sighed again in
relief as George finally signaled to Wood, the Gryffindor team captain to call for a timeout. A
most surprising act, considering the competitiveness of the Gryffindors and the
Slytherins"George will do the right thing, and ask Wood for a forfeit, I know it," she told
herself, knowing her brother wouldn't allow any harm come to Harry if he could help it.
"Why is that Bludger after Harry in the first place?" Hermione asked Ron.
"I wouldn't be surprised if it was Malfoy who cursed that ruddy thing," Ron said with a sneer.
"He would do anything to take Harry out of the game."
Ginny peered once again out onto the pitch, shielding her eyes from the rain with her hand. But
the Gryffindor team had not left the pitch as she expected. Instead, Wood had signaled to
Madam Hooch, the referee, to begin the game again. She saw as Harry mount his broomstick and
zoom back out into the pitch, looking more determined than ever, while Fred and George shook
their heads in helplessness.
"Are they mad?" Ginny shouted angrily, causing Ron and Hermione to turn around."They can't
let him back out onto the pitch! That thing'll kill him!"
"What?" Ron said.
"Look!" Ginny said to them, pointing at the team, now rising back into the air.
Like before, the Bludger was once again chasing after Harry, but Fred and George weren't
protecting him as they had previously. He began zigzagging about like a madman, desperately
trying to outrun it. Ginny could hear the crowd around her laughing at him.
"Ron, Ginny's right, that Bludger will kill him if we don't figure out a way to stop this game
quickly," Hermione said. "We have to do something!"
"Okay, Hermione and I will go find some help. Ginny, you stay here--Ginny?"
But she was already gone.
Ginny ran down the bleacher stairs as quickly as she could, searching for Hagrid, the only person
she could think of with enough sense to help her protect Harry before his head was bashed in.
She stood at the end of the stairs and looked up into the crowd. Hagrid was sitting in the next
section over, waving a red and gold flag. She tried shouting to him, but there was no point. The
cheers from the crowd simply drowned her out.
She scanned the pitch again for Harry. Again he had stopped for a moment, just meters away
from Malfoy.
"Why has he stopped?" she thought. "The Bludger is heading straight for him. Harry, NO!"
But Harry couldn't hear her screams over the crowd of cheering and shouting of fans. The
Bludger hit him hard in the elbow, almost knocking him from his broomstick.
Ginny wiped the rain from her face as she watched Harry dangle from his broom, arm hanging
uselessly at his side. Incredibly, she saw him somehow right himself on his broom, and even
more miraculously, dive towards Malfoy.
"What on earth is he doing?" she wondered as she made her way through the crowd to the pitch,
nearly running into a large jade green cloak underneath a gold umbrella.
"Pardon me, Miss Weasley," said Professor Lockhart, a gleaming smile on his face. "You seem
to be in a bit of a hurry. Tell me, what's the trouble?"
Ginny gave him an irritated look. Ron had told her all about the episode with the Cornish Pixies
and she was well aware of Professor Lockhart's so-called 'abilities'. "Well is it not completely
obvious that Harry has been injured and that I'm looking for someone to help him?"
"Well then, you've run into the right person. I can help Mr. Potter with whatever may be ailing
him."
But Ginny simply ignored him. She saw Harry hit the ground hard, rolling off of his broomstick.
"Harry–" she said softly, as she watched him pass out on the muddy lawn. His hand was
clutched around a small gleam of gold.
Madam Hooch blew her whistle. "Potter has the Snitch! Gryffindor wins!" she shouted. The
crowd erupted in a roar of cheers and whistles.
Ginny ran as fast as her legs could carry her to the other end of the pitch, leaving a bewildered
Lockhart still in the stands. At that moment, she didn't care if anyone saw her, or if they knew
her feelings about Harry. All she wanted was to help him. And even through the chilly rain, she
could feel the warm tears that were beginning to fall down her face.
She knelt down at Harry's side. "Harry—please be all right—please," she said trying to gently
shake him awake.
"Ginny! Look out!"
She glanced upwards to see Ron and Hermione racing across the field with Hagrid, bounding
behind them shouting. "The Bludger Ginny! It's comin' at yeh!"
Ginny turned around on her knees to see the crazy Bludger only a few meters away. She ducked
down, her small frame shielding Harry from the ball. A great gust of wind blew over her and
Harry, and she heard a familiar 'clack' of a beating club against the hard ball.
She raised her head, only slightly to see the back of her brother, Fred as he knocked the Bludger
to George, who had caught it, and was now trying desperately to wrangle the ball back into the trunk.
She heard a slight moan from beneath her. Harry was beginning to stir. Sighing with relief,
Ginny brushed the wet hair from his forehead.
"Harry? Harry?"
"Ginny, are you nutters?" Ron yelled at her, falling to his knees on Harry's other side."You
could have been killed!"
Ginny wiped the rain and tears from her face. "And you say that I sound like Mum?" she said
with a sarcastic tone to her voice.
"Is he all right?" asked Hermione.
"Yes, I think so," Ginny said. "His arm is broken though."
"I can take care of that Miss Weasley," Professor Lockhart said, forcing her aside. "I've mended
the bones of hundreds of wizards."
Hermione's eyes lit up. "Oh, Professor Lockhart! We're so glad you're here. Can you really help
him?"
"But of course I can," he said, brandishing his most winning smile, "Now if you will please
stand aside for a moment,"
Ginny tried to push her way back to Harry, but swarms of people were now all around him,
pushing her further away.
Again she saw the familiar flashing of Colin Creevey's camera behind her.
"Colin, why can't you just leave him alone for once!" she shouted angrily, but Ginny, and her
shouts, were quickly ignored and forgotten by the horde of people now surrounding Harry on the
pitch.
* * *
"... Tom, I just don't understand how they could have so easily pushed me aside like that! It's so
unfair! Even Colin Creevey, who only wanted his photographs, was able to worm his way
through the crowd to him. All I wanted was to be there for him, and I couldn't even do
that!"Ginny wrote in the diary, nearly breaking the tip of her quill out of anger.
"Colin Creevey! What does he know about Harry anyway? He's a Muggleborn! He didn't even
know about Harry until he came here to Hogwarts. He just sees him as the great hero that
defeated You-know-who, just like everyone else. Why can't he just leave him be? Harry doesn't
want to be famous. I see how Harry cringes every time Colin comes near him. He doesn't want
that. He never did. Nobody sees Harry like I do, as the truly wonderful person he is. All they can
see is the savior of the wizarding world, and he can't even recall doing it!"
"Ginny, I know it's not always easy to understand, but some people need someone to lookup to,
to inspire them, or to make them feel special, like Harry. Colin may not see everything that you
see in Harry, but he can see at least one or two honorable traits in him. Why else would he
idolize him so much." Tom responded.
Ginny huffed in frustration and wrote, "Yes Tom, I suppose you're right. I guess I just wish that
Harry would notice me for who I am too, not just Ron's silly little sister. At least I know I
always have you to turn to and listen to me when I really need it. No ones ever understood me
like you do, Tom. Well, it's been a long day. I think I will turn in early this evening.
Thanksagain for listening to me Tom."
"Thank you Ginny for turning to me for support. I've never felt more fulfilled. Goodnight, and
sleep well my dear girl."
Ginny closed the diary, again overcome with the soothing warmth that came from talking to
Tom and always made her feel better. She slipped the diary underneath her pillow and fell into
another deep sleep.
As Ginny slept, she fell yet again into another peculiar dream. Still blanketed in the warmth that
seemed to blur her dreams, she walked down another dark corridor. Though this time she was
following someone. She tried to make out the figure before her as they beckoned her to follow
them. He seemed to look very much like Harry; gangly, with dark hair. Only he was taller. Older
than Harry was now.
She followed him into the room with her reflection again. He whispered into her ear, telling her
something important it seemed, but she couldn't hear him. She tried to tell him, but she began
talking in gibberish like before.
The older Harry beckoned her to follow him again. She followed him down another corridor.
Suddenly, she saw him leading her towards a great flashing light at the end of the corridor. She
ran to see where the light was coming from. She could make out the silhouette of a small blond
boy holding a camera. She knew it had to be Colin. She found Harry there as well, but Colin
wanted to take his picture. The flashes from his camera began to fade Harry's image until he
completely disappeared. She screamed at Colin to stop, but her words again came out as
gibberish. Another flash of light, and Colin vanished as well.
A very upset Ginny ran back down the corridor, searching for Harry and running from the
flashes of light which seemed to remain, even though Colin was gone. She felt herself begin to
fade away into the flashes of light, felt her very soul being taken away . . .
Ginny woke suddenly in the common room on the sofa, the diary open next to her. She looked at
the clock on the wall. It read three thirty in the morning.
Thankful that she had not wandered too far in her sleep, she made her way upstairs to her dorm
and crawled back into bed. The disturbing dream was still fresh in her mind though, and it took
some time before she was able to fall back asleep again.
