Disclaimer: not mine (JK Rowling)
It was a quiet morning the next day, and everything seemed still outside. It was drizzling lightly, and there was some dew on the flowers, and leaves. The air smelled fresh of springtime approaching and it was already warmer as the day progressed.
I sat on the grounds under a tall oak tree, the wind ruffling my dress slightly. The light blue ribbon holding up my hair swayed gently back and forth in front of my face. I held a pile of parchment on my lap, and a quill. I was ready to confess my feelings to Harry in a letter. However, getting started was the difficult part.
My quill paused at a likely looking paragraph. How would I address him? "My Dearest Harry?" No, it sounded too mushy; I wasn't about to marry him. "Harry" looked oddly plain on a love letter. How about "Sir Potter?" Even in my head, the words sounded stupid. He wasn't some kind of military captain. I decided to skip that part and come back to it later. I wanted to tell him everything at once, which I couldn't possibly accomplish by cramming into one paragraph. So, I thought briefly, and organized my ideas in order.
First, I stated my reasons for writing: because I loved him, and wanted to know if he felt the same way back. Then, slowly, I opened up my heart, spilling out my feelings to him. I went back to the beginning, and wrote "Dear Harry." It looked just right somehow, so I left it alone. My letter was almost a roll long.
~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~
Later that day, I put my letter in my bag. I knew it still needed something else, so until I found out what that was, then I'd continue. I spent the rest of my morning daydreaming, and strolling about the grounds. I dropped by to visit Hagrid, and had a cup of tea with him. He had been experimenting with his new recipe of rock cakes, which now appeared to have the same shape and smell of coal, and was delighted to have a visitor sample them. I, however, wise enough not to trust Hagrid's cooking, kindly rejected, and left quickly in case he wanted me to try something else.
On my way back, I bumped into Harry, Ron, and Hermione in the Great Hall. They were on their way to the Quidditch Pitch to watch Harry and Ron practice, and invited me to come along. I agreed, and the four of us trudged over the grounds to the field. Hermione and I headed towards the stands, while Harry and Ron left to the locker rooms. While they changed the two of us engaged ourselves in deep conversation of all sorts of topics. It wasn't until Harry kicked off and soared into the air, that I stopped talking and stared up into the sky.
Afterwards, they flew over to us and hovered in midair. I asked if I could have a go, but didn't address whom I was speaking to. Both seemed to be confused and offered their brooms at once. It was an awkward moment, but to my relief and surprise, Harry jumped off his broom in the stands and handed it to me. My heart thumped.
I tried to thank him, but my voice seemed to have gone, and what came out was a strange huffing sound. I tried again, this time managing a quiet "thanks." Harry nodded, and sat down next to Hermione.
Ron decided to ride by my side just for assurance. I mounted the broom and kicked off from the stands. I soared high into the air, the wind pushing against my face. My stomach felt light and easy, and the broom was splendid. It turned and moved with the touch of a finger, and it seemed to obey my every command. I rose higher and higher until the hoops were the size of galleons. I noticed Ron was slightly below me, keeping close by, but only just. He struggled to keep up with the exact speed and precision of the Firebolt. His broom wasn't as strong as Harry's but his flying was exceptional. I decided to have a bit of fun. I dove with a plunge to the Quidditch field, and half laughed as Ron opened his mouth. He was stunned that I actually left his side. Perhaps he thought I would be frightened. He went into a shaky dive after me, as I raced around the field. I looped in midair, and stopped to take a breather. Ron finally caught up, wiped the sweat off his forehead, and halted to a stop in front of me. I expected him to be angry, but I was shocked to see his mouth still hanging open.
"Ginny, how.how did you." He broke off, staring at me as if observing me in a new light.
Over his head, I saw Harry and Hermione trotting across the field over to us. They came to a stop, and they too were staring at me as if I'd just done something heroic.
"What?" I asked, completely unaware as to what was going on.
"Well, that was really good flying," said Harry for Ron, as he couldn't seem to be able to speak on his own.
I felt my face burn, and knew I was blushing deeply. All those years of practicing paid off to see the one person I fancy smiling back at me, and admiring my ability. I felt like doing something wonderful, I wanted to jump off a cliff and do back flips to see him look at me with admiration again. But then a familiar voice broke through my daydreams and pulled me back down to Earth. Ron was peaking again.
"Ginny.have you ever flown before?" Ron asked, a strange high pitch in his voice.
"Uh.uh.b.well.I."
I had feared this. Ever since I was young, I would sneak into the broom shed at home, and practice flying when everyone was away. I didn't want to tell Ron because I had borrowed his, Fred and George's brooms, which I wasn't allowed to touch. The only person I had ever told was Hermione. Judging by the interested, but confused faces of Harry and Ron, I knew Hermione had still kept my secret. I suddenly, became very thankful.
"Well, actually I."
In the distance, the bell sounded from somewhere inside the school.
"Uh.lunch time.don't want to be late," I said, left the three of them, and headed to the stands to collect my bag.
When I retrieved it, I turned to head back down the stairs, and noticed that I was blocked by Hermione. She was smiling.
"Close one," She said
"Yeah, thanks for not telling," I smiled.
"No probs," She said, as we descended the staircase.
I smiled to myself, and thought there was no better time to be saved by the bell.
It was a quiet morning the next day, and everything seemed still outside. It was drizzling lightly, and there was some dew on the flowers, and leaves. The air smelled fresh of springtime approaching and it was already warmer as the day progressed.
I sat on the grounds under a tall oak tree, the wind ruffling my dress slightly. The light blue ribbon holding up my hair swayed gently back and forth in front of my face. I held a pile of parchment on my lap, and a quill. I was ready to confess my feelings to Harry in a letter. However, getting started was the difficult part.
My quill paused at a likely looking paragraph. How would I address him? "My Dearest Harry?" No, it sounded too mushy; I wasn't about to marry him. "Harry" looked oddly plain on a love letter. How about "Sir Potter?" Even in my head, the words sounded stupid. He wasn't some kind of military captain. I decided to skip that part and come back to it later. I wanted to tell him everything at once, which I couldn't possibly accomplish by cramming into one paragraph. So, I thought briefly, and organized my ideas in order.
First, I stated my reasons for writing: because I loved him, and wanted to know if he felt the same way back. Then, slowly, I opened up my heart, spilling out my feelings to him. I went back to the beginning, and wrote "Dear Harry." It looked just right somehow, so I left it alone. My letter was almost a roll long.
~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~
Later that day, I put my letter in my bag. I knew it still needed something else, so until I found out what that was, then I'd continue. I spent the rest of my morning daydreaming, and strolling about the grounds. I dropped by to visit Hagrid, and had a cup of tea with him. He had been experimenting with his new recipe of rock cakes, which now appeared to have the same shape and smell of coal, and was delighted to have a visitor sample them. I, however, wise enough not to trust Hagrid's cooking, kindly rejected, and left quickly in case he wanted me to try something else.
On my way back, I bumped into Harry, Ron, and Hermione in the Great Hall. They were on their way to the Quidditch Pitch to watch Harry and Ron practice, and invited me to come along. I agreed, and the four of us trudged over the grounds to the field. Hermione and I headed towards the stands, while Harry and Ron left to the locker rooms. While they changed the two of us engaged ourselves in deep conversation of all sorts of topics. It wasn't until Harry kicked off and soared into the air, that I stopped talking and stared up into the sky.
Afterwards, they flew over to us and hovered in midair. I asked if I could have a go, but didn't address whom I was speaking to. Both seemed to be confused and offered their brooms at once. It was an awkward moment, but to my relief and surprise, Harry jumped off his broom in the stands and handed it to me. My heart thumped.
I tried to thank him, but my voice seemed to have gone, and what came out was a strange huffing sound. I tried again, this time managing a quiet "thanks." Harry nodded, and sat down next to Hermione.
Ron decided to ride by my side just for assurance. I mounted the broom and kicked off from the stands. I soared high into the air, the wind pushing against my face. My stomach felt light and easy, and the broom was splendid. It turned and moved with the touch of a finger, and it seemed to obey my every command. I rose higher and higher until the hoops were the size of galleons. I noticed Ron was slightly below me, keeping close by, but only just. He struggled to keep up with the exact speed and precision of the Firebolt. His broom wasn't as strong as Harry's but his flying was exceptional. I decided to have a bit of fun. I dove with a plunge to the Quidditch field, and half laughed as Ron opened his mouth. He was stunned that I actually left his side. Perhaps he thought I would be frightened. He went into a shaky dive after me, as I raced around the field. I looped in midair, and stopped to take a breather. Ron finally caught up, wiped the sweat off his forehead, and halted to a stop in front of me. I expected him to be angry, but I was shocked to see his mouth still hanging open.
"Ginny, how.how did you." He broke off, staring at me as if observing me in a new light.
Over his head, I saw Harry and Hermione trotting across the field over to us. They came to a stop, and they too were staring at me as if I'd just done something heroic.
"What?" I asked, completely unaware as to what was going on.
"Well, that was really good flying," said Harry for Ron, as he couldn't seem to be able to speak on his own.
I felt my face burn, and knew I was blushing deeply. All those years of practicing paid off to see the one person I fancy smiling back at me, and admiring my ability. I felt like doing something wonderful, I wanted to jump off a cliff and do back flips to see him look at me with admiration again. But then a familiar voice broke through my daydreams and pulled me back down to Earth. Ron was peaking again.
"Ginny.have you ever flown before?" Ron asked, a strange high pitch in his voice.
"Uh.uh.b.well.I."
I had feared this. Ever since I was young, I would sneak into the broom shed at home, and practice flying when everyone was away. I didn't want to tell Ron because I had borrowed his, Fred and George's brooms, which I wasn't allowed to touch. The only person I had ever told was Hermione. Judging by the interested, but confused faces of Harry and Ron, I knew Hermione had still kept my secret. I suddenly, became very thankful.
"Well, actually I."
In the distance, the bell sounded from somewhere inside the school.
"Uh.lunch time.don't want to be late," I said, left the three of them, and headed to the stands to collect my bag.
When I retrieved it, I turned to head back down the stairs, and noticed that I was blocked by Hermione. She was smiling.
"Close one," She said
"Yeah, thanks for not telling," I smiled.
"No probs," She said, as we descended the staircase.
I smiled to myself, and thought there was no better time to be saved by the bell.
