"Ginny Weasley and the Memory of Power"
by Jedi Amoira
*****************
Disclaimer--If you see something you like just assume I don't own it, and you'll be fine. I have done my best to rely largely on my own imagination and vocabulary for the scenes I describe, however I have borrowed from JK Rowling, the movies, and my fellow fanfic writers wherever I found something I really liked. I hope they all take this in the manner in which it is meant--as sincere flattery of their skills.
A/N--I have some great reviewers, but an author writes for praise, and I need more! I may not own any of this, but I have worked very hard and do love this story. If you like it, please say so. And please respect my work and don't print or post it elsewhere without my knowledge. Thanks!
Bill-I think that's exactly how Ginny feels about Ron forgetting her b-day...he's always been her best friend, and the person she most wanted to be like and impress, and it seems like he doesn't even know like she's alive...she's feeling pretty hurt right now. I'm glad you liked Blaise's cameo...I enjoyed that myself.
********************
She had the dream every night that week, and every night the face seemed a little clearer. She waited, half anxious to know who it was the face reminded her of so strongly, half-terrified by what might happen when it was finally visible. Ginny had never been so glad to see Saturday in her entire life. Quidditch was always thrillingly welcome--now it was absolutely necessary as a diversion from her fears. Even if it hadn't been, she'd never had a chance to sit with the announcer at a Quidditch game before, let alone see Harry Potter play, and now she was going to do both at the same time.
After snatching a pair of Percy's socks just to make herself feel better, she met Lee quietly in the Common Room before the game, and they walked down to the box together. "Ready to see a legend in action, Ginger?" Lee asked with a wink, picking up the magical megaphone.
Ginny snickered.
Professor McGonagall glanced over at them. "Legend, is it? I don't know where you get your delusions, Jordan."
Lee brought a hand to his heart, miming mortal wounds.
Ginny laughed harder.
She hadn't felt this happy, this energetic ...this free since she'd gotten on the train.
The teams walked out onto the pitch far below, a kaleidoscope of green and silver, gold and red dots. As if their red hair didn't make them visible enough, Fred and George were waving their bats like the Royal Family on Parade. Alicia and Katie barely looked awake, but from the stories Ginny had heard, in this case looks were most definitely deceptive. Angelina's dark skin glowed, making her elegant in the midst of chaos. Ginny wondered if it was her imagination or if Fred kept shooting glances in Angelina's direction. Oliver looked tense, but prepared. And Harry--he was just...Harry. Ginny sighed, glad the thunderous applause from the stands covered the sound.
Burly, intimidating Flint shook Oliver's hand, Madam Hooch blew a violent blast on her whistle, and the 14 players rose into the dark sky.
Harry floated in lazy circles, looking almost like a Phoenix circling overhead. Malfoy shot underneath him, shouting something. Ginny wondered if he were asking for directions.
A Bludger hurtled at Harry, and Ginny caught her breath in sudden fear, but Harry wasn't the youngest Seeker in a century for nothing, with perfectly honed instincts, he ducked and the Bludger flew harmless overhead. Ginny breathed a prayer of thanks, hopelessly entangled with a gasp of awed appreciation. She could see George fly close to Harry, and hoped he was putting her relief as he gave the Bludger a satisfying thwack toward the nearest Slytherin. The Bludger, however, had other ideas, and headed right back for Harry again. Ginny frowned. "Bludgers aren't supposed to do that, are they?," she demanded.
"No," Lee confirmed, his voice low and tense, as Harry dropped to avoid the Bludger and George batted it neatly in the direction of Malfoy. Ginny would have loved to see Malfoy take a hit, but the Bludger just shot at Harry's head again. "It's obviously not trying to unseat as many players as possible," Lee muttered, careful to hold the megaphone away from his mouth. "Why don't they call time out?"
Fred hit the Bludger off of Harry, and Ginny realized disconcertedly that instead of the usual pride she felt in brothers Quidditch skills, she was just grateful they were to take care of Harry.
Lee seemed to be equally distracted--from what the twins had said, Ginny had the impression Professor McGonagall usually spent most of the game yelling at him, but she hadn't had to remonstrate him for a single remark. He just mechanically reported the score with each new goal and stared. Ginny didn't much blame him. She had never heard of anything like this, and as if the rogue Bludger weren't enough, it was raining so heavily she couldn't begin to imagine how Alicia, Katie, and Angelina could still pass the Quaffle, let alone how Fred and George kept their bats.
After what seemed like ages, she finally saw George signal to Wood for time out. Maybe it was just her own impatience to see Harry on the ground and safe, but Wood seemed to hesitate. Finally, though they landed, and Madam Hooch strode over to join them. "Are they going to ask for an inquiry?"
Lee shook his head worriedly. "If they do, they'll have to forfeit," he said grimly.
"But that Bludger is trying to kill Harry!," Ginny nearly shouted.
Lee didn't try to correct her, and neither did Professor McGonagall. Madam Hooch's whistle turned her blood icy with fear. Ginny turned back to the field, and saw Gryffindor Team rising back into the air.
One thing was quickly apparent--Ginny would have loved to see Harry in flying contest with her brother. She'd always thought Charlie was amazing, but Harry would have given him stiff competition if Charlie had been around over the summer. Harry looped, spiraled, and rolled in ways that looked impossible, drawing confused but admiring laughter from the stands, and Ginny felt some of her worry abate. The Bludger couldn't hope to keep up with him through so many speed and direction changes.
Ginny knew the exact instant Harry saw the Snitch--she could feel his anticipation so strongly her skin tingled. Time seemed to stop as he hung in mid-air, his eyes narrowed on something only he could see near Malfoy's left ear, and started again with an bone-shattering jolt as the Bludger smashed into him.
Ginny bit into her lip, determined she wasn't going to scream, and heard--to her own amazement--McGonagall give a small shriek beside her.
"And Potter is going to get the Snitch--or die trying!," Lee proclaimed into the magical megaphone. Ginny, unappreciative of the figure of speech, glared at him, but he was leaning forward, intent on the field, and never noticed, and she didn't really blame him.
Harry lunged at Malfoy, and, worried as she was, Ginny couldn't entirely suppress a spurt of satisfaction at the look on Malfoy's face as he spun wildly out of the way. She saw a flicker of triumph on Harry's face, and he toppled into the field with a sucking noise and globs of mud flying everywhere.
"And he's done it!!," Lee announced. "Potter has the Snitch! Gryffindor wins the match!!"
The stands erupted into a cacophony, but Ginny was intent on Harry. He'd fainted.
Lockhart was at his side in seconds. "Oh no," Ginny groaned, pulling a hand down her soaking face. "Not him!"
Colin had managed to slip out onto the field, too. Ginny wondered vaguely if he'd been sitting in the lowest level of the stands. "Colin," she hissed as he began dancing around with the camera, and sighed. "Poor Harry."
The rest of the team had gathered around Harry, Lockhart, and Colin, and Ginny figured maybe that was for the best--she probably didn't want to see what was going on. Around her the other spectators continued to celebrate, apparently oblivious to the players once the game had ended. Ginny gave a half-sigh of irritation and tried to stand on tip-toe.
Ron and Hermione were leading Harry back to the school now, but he looked...odd somehow...almost...lopsided. Then Ginny caught sight of his arm and nearly toppled over. It looked like a rubber glove, flexible and limp--almost as if the bones were missing!
by Jedi Amoira
*****************
Disclaimer--If you see something you like just assume I don't own it, and you'll be fine. I have done my best to rely largely on my own imagination and vocabulary for the scenes I describe, however I have borrowed from JK Rowling, the movies, and my fellow fanfic writers wherever I found something I really liked. I hope they all take this in the manner in which it is meant--as sincere flattery of their skills.
A/N--I have some great reviewers, but an author writes for praise, and I need more! I may not own any of this, but I have worked very hard and do love this story. If you like it, please say so. And please respect my work and don't print or post it elsewhere without my knowledge. Thanks!
Bill-I think that's exactly how Ginny feels about Ron forgetting her b-day...he's always been her best friend, and the person she most wanted to be like and impress, and it seems like he doesn't even know like she's alive...she's feeling pretty hurt right now. I'm glad you liked Blaise's cameo...I enjoyed that myself.
********************
She had the dream every night that week, and every night the face seemed a little clearer. She waited, half anxious to know who it was the face reminded her of so strongly, half-terrified by what might happen when it was finally visible. Ginny had never been so glad to see Saturday in her entire life. Quidditch was always thrillingly welcome--now it was absolutely necessary as a diversion from her fears. Even if it hadn't been, she'd never had a chance to sit with the announcer at a Quidditch game before, let alone see Harry Potter play, and now she was going to do both at the same time.
After snatching a pair of Percy's socks just to make herself feel better, she met Lee quietly in the Common Room before the game, and they walked down to the box together. "Ready to see a legend in action, Ginger?" Lee asked with a wink, picking up the magical megaphone.
Ginny snickered.
Professor McGonagall glanced over at them. "Legend, is it? I don't know where you get your delusions, Jordan."
Lee brought a hand to his heart, miming mortal wounds.
Ginny laughed harder.
She hadn't felt this happy, this energetic ...this free since she'd gotten on the train.
The teams walked out onto the pitch far below, a kaleidoscope of green and silver, gold and red dots. As if their red hair didn't make them visible enough, Fred and George were waving their bats like the Royal Family on Parade. Alicia and Katie barely looked awake, but from the stories Ginny had heard, in this case looks were most definitely deceptive. Angelina's dark skin glowed, making her elegant in the midst of chaos. Ginny wondered if it was her imagination or if Fred kept shooting glances in Angelina's direction. Oliver looked tense, but prepared. And Harry--he was just...Harry. Ginny sighed, glad the thunderous applause from the stands covered the sound.
Burly, intimidating Flint shook Oliver's hand, Madam Hooch blew a violent blast on her whistle, and the 14 players rose into the dark sky.
Harry floated in lazy circles, looking almost like a Phoenix circling overhead. Malfoy shot underneath him, shouting something. Ginny wondered if he were asking for directions.
A Bludger hurtled at Harry, and Ginny caught her breath in sudden fear, but Harry wasn't the youngest Seeker in a century for nothing, with perfectly honed instincts, he ducked and the Bludger flew harmless overhead. Ginny breathed a prayer of thanks, hopelessly entangled with a gasp of awed appreciation. She could see George fly close to Harry, and hoped he was putting her relief as he gave the Bludger a satisfying thwack toward the nearest Slytherin. The Bludger, however, had other ideas, and headed right back for Harry again. Ginny frowned. "Bludgers aren't supposed to do that, are they?," she demanded.
"No," Lee confirmed, his voice low and tense, as Harry dropped to avoid the Bludger and George batted it neatly in the direction of Malfoy. Ginny would have loved to see Malfoy take a hit, but the Bludger just shot at Harry's head again. "It's obviously not trying to unseat as many players as possible," Lee muttered, careful to hold the megaphone away from his mouth. "Why don't they call time out?"
Fred hit the Bludger off of Harry, and Ginny realized disconcertedly that instead of the usual pride she felt in brothers Quidditch skills, she was just grateful they were to take care of Harry.
Lee seemed to be equally distracted--from what the twins had said, Ginny had the impression Professor McGonagall usually spent most of the game yelling at him, but she hadn't had to remonstrate him for a single remark. He just mechanically reported the score with each new goal and stared. Ginny didn't much blame him. She had never heard of anything like this, and as if the rogue Bludger weren't enough, it was raining so heavily she couldn't begin to imagine how Alicia, Katie, and Angelina could still pass the Quaffle, let alone how Fred and George kept their bats.
After what seemed like ages, she finally saw George signal to Wood for time out. Maybe it was just her own impatience to see Harry on the ground and safe, but Wood seemed to hesitate. Finally, though they landed, and Madam Hooch strode over to join them. "Are they going to ask for an inquiry?"
Lee shook his head worriedly. "If they do, they'll have to forfeit," he said grimly.
"But that Bludger is trying to kill Harry!," Ginny nearly shouted.
Lee didn't try to correct her, and neither did Professor McGonagall. Madam Hooch's whistle turned her blood icy with fear. Ginny turned back to the field, and saw Gryffindor Team rising back into the air.
One thing was quickly apparent--Ginny would have loved to see Harry in flying contest with her brother. She'd always thought Charlie was amazing, but Harry would have given him stiff competition if Charlie had been around over the summer. Harry looped, spiraled, and rolled in ways that looked impossible, drawing confused but admiring laughter from the stands, and Ginny felt some of her worry abate. The Bludger couldn't hope to keep up with him through so many speed and direction changes.
Ginny knew the exact instant Harry saw the Snitch--she could feel his anticipation so strongly her skin tingled. Time seemed to stop as he hung in mid-air, his eyes narrowed on something only he could see near Malfoy's left ear, and started again with an bone-shattering jolt as the Bludger smashed into him.
Ginny bit into her lip, determined she wasn't going to scream, and heard--to her own amazement--McGonagall give a small shriek beside her.
"And Potter is going to get the Snitch--or die trying!," Lee proclaimed into the magical megaphone. Ginny, unappreciative of the figure of speech, glared at him, but he was leaning forward, intent on the field, and never noticed, and she didn't really blame him.
Harry lunged at Malfoy, and, worried as she was, Ginny couldn't entirely suppress a spurt of satisfaction at the look on Malfoy's face as he spun wildly out of the way. She saw a flicker of triumph on Harry's face, and he toppled into the field with a sucking noise and globs of mud flying everywhere.
"And he's done it!!," Lee announced. "Potter has the Snitch! Gryffindor wins the match!!"
The stands erupted into a cacophony, but Ginny was intent on Harry. He'd fainted.
Lockhart was at his side in seconds. "Oh no," Ginny groaned, pulling a hand down her soaking face. "Not him!"
Colin had managed to slip out onto the field, too. Ginny wondered vaguely if he'd been sitting in the lowest level of the stands. "Colin," she hissed as he began dancing around with the camera, and sighed. "Poor Harry."
The rest of the team had gathered around Harry, Lockhart, and Colin, and Ginny figured maybe that was for the best--she probably didn't want to see what was going on. Around her the other spectators continued to celebrate, apparently oblivious to the players once the game had ended. Ginny gave a half-sigh of irritation and tried to stand on tip-toe.
Ron and Hermione were leading Harry back to the school now, but he looked...odd somehow...almost...lopsided. Then Ginny caught sight of his arm and nearly toppled over. It looked like a rubber glove, flexible and limp--almost as if the bones were missing!
