Chapter 9

Hmmm, interesting. . .some mixed reviews about the last chapter :-/ Let me just clear something up: this is not going to be an action/adventure fic, though there will be a little tidbit of that sort of thing, it will have more of a sub-plot feel to it. This story will still be primarily a flangsty romance. And let me assure you that everything will work out in the end! I hate stories that leave me feeling depressed, so I would never do that to you=)

Kurinax: Oops(= forgot about that. Um, yeah, I'm not going to change it, just because it's such a little thing and I'm too lazy. Thanks for pointing it out, though;)

Jigon: Hey, no prob;)

Everyone else: Thank you for the reviews, you guys rock=D

I know it's been a while since I updated, and this isn't the longest chapter I've written, but I've been really busy, so please forgive me(=

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Ginny sat across the table from Harry, looking at him worriedly. He had hardly spoken a word to her all day. Every time she tried to engage him in conversation, he would grunt out one-word answers to her questions, if he even spoke to her at all. Several times she had caught him staring at her with a drawn, haunted look on his face. So they were now sitting in an uneasy silence, Harry seemingly lost in his own thoughts, Ginny in hers.

'He looks tired,' Ginny thought. They were sitting in the common room, reading, or pretending to read, in order to kill time before the students arrived and it was time to go down to the Great Hall. Ginny looked at her watch. They still had a few more minutes till they should start heading down. Ron and Hermione, being prefects, had been called down earlier to help with preparations for the arrival of the students. She glanced at Harry and saw that he had raised one of his hands and was running it back and forth across his forehead, his eyes downcast. Ginny was unsure as to whether or not it was just a headache that was bothering him, as he claimed.

Unable to stand the silence any longer, she reached across the table and squeezed his hand gently. "Harry, what's wrong?" she asked softly.

Harry jumped and looked at her as if he was seeing a ghost; in truth, that was how he had seen her since last night. He kept envisioning her in his mind, her face pale and lifeless, and when he looked at her, alive and unhurt, it was as if he were seeing her return from the dead. He cleared his throat and looked away from her, pulling his hand out from under hers. "Nothing."

"Don't give me that, Harry, there's something wrong," she folded her arms and looked at him reprovingly. "Why won't you talk to me?"

Harry ran his hand through his hair roughly, "Really, Ginny, please lets just not do this right now."

"Well, if not now, then when, Harry?" she asked, growing annoyed. "What happened last night? You came downstairs this morning and it was like you were a different person. What's wrong with you?"

"I already told you, Gin, I have a headache. Can you please just leave me alone? You've been bugging me about it all day. I'm getting sick of it," he said harshly. He glanced at her, saw the hurt look on her face, and immediately felt like a twat. He turned back to his book, sighing heavily.

Ginny's hurt quickly turned to anger. She hated when he got like this. Withdrawn, lashing out at everyone around him. He had spent much of the last year in this state, and it had always irritated her, just a bit. She had believed that he had gotten over this 'phase' during the summer, when he had come back to Hogwarts and been almost carefree, showing no signs of the angst filled teenager he had been a few months before. But then he had come down the stairs this morning, surly and closed off from everyone around him, and Ginny had felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach ever since.

But right now she was just plain mad. "You know what Harry? Fine. Sorry for caring," she said and stood up, banging her chair back up against the table angrily. He looked up as she moved toward the portrait hole, and she turned just before going through it, "You can really be a self absorbed ass sometimes, you know that?" she got out through her gritted teeth, before disappearing from sight.

"Ginny, wait a sec-" Harry called after her, but stopped when he heard the portrait close shut. He put his face in his hands and groaned in frustration. He did NOT need this right now. He didn't get up to follow her, but sat there brooding. She'd be a little irritable too if she had images of dead loved ones flashing inside her head.

He didn't know why the dream had come as such a shock to him. He should have expected it. It was just that, over the summer, his scar hadn't even twinged, and he had been lulled into almost a relaxed state. Then he had returned here and been so busy, well, falling in love with Ginny, really, that thoughts of Voldemort had had little time to intrude upon his mind. With his scar still aching from last night, he had been able to think of little else all day.

He sighed and rested his forehead on his folded arms. Damn, he owed her an apology. None of this was her fault. She showed a little concern and he basically told her to fuck-off. Harry shook his head in self-deprecation. He sometimes astounded himself with how much of an ass he could really be. He got up slowly, resigned to finding Ginny and giving her an apology, something he was not looking forward to.

Walking down the stairs, he could hear a great mass off noise coming from below. He glanced at his watch and was startled to discover that he should have arrived downstairs ten minutes ago. He cursed and practically ran the rest of the way to the Hall.

It was too much to hope that his late arrival would go unnoticed. Only the first years had yet to arrive, and many people looked up when he entered, expecting the newcomers at any moment. He hesitated as much of the conversation in the hall died to almost nothing, and then started up again with a renewed fervor. He scanned the Gryffindor table quickly, looking for a certain redhead, and spotting her, he walked resolutely toward her, his head down so as to avoid the curious stares. Some people called out to him, but he only nodded toward them absently, not even bothering to look up and see who it was. When he made it to where she sat, he noticed that, although she didn't acknowledge him, she had saved him a seat next to her, which was promising.

"Where've you been?" Ron asked. He sat across from Harry, Hermione at his side. Harry looked around and saw Dean sitting a few seats down from them. He was laughing at something Seamus was saying, but caught Harry looking his way and gave a friendly wave. Harry waved back reluctantly and nodded, subconsciously moving closer toward Ginny. He didn't notice the narrowing of Dean's eyes because he had turned back to Ron.

"Lost track of time," he mumbled, and stole a side-glance at Ginny. She had her arms crossed in front of her and refused to look at him when he nudged her side gently with his elbow. He tried again, rubbing his foot up against hers under the table. She kicked his shin, hard, and he took in a deep breath of air to keep himself from yelping out loud in pain. He noticed Ginny was trying very hard not to smile at this as he rubbed his shin unobtrusively under the table and glared at her. Fine. She didn't want to hear what he had to say, well that was just fine. He could take a hint.

Ginny didn't regret kicking Harry's shin at all. The prat deserved it. She looked down the table at Dean when she noticed that he was trying to catch her eye. He mouthed something like 'I'll talk to you later,' and she nodded, doing her best to smile at him. Poor bloke. She really did like him, but she didn't want to lead him on. She would break up with him tonight, before he found out from someone else that she was now seeing Harry.

That was, she was seeing Harry unless he continued to act like a complete toad. She looked at him finally and found him staring at the tablecloth broodingly. He looked up when he felt her gaze on him, and stared at her stoically, his face devoid of emotion. 'Oh, go ahead and just shut everyone out,' she thought angrily. She was just so fed up with his behavior that day, so bursting with annoyance, that she had to do something. She made a face and stuck her tongue out at him.

At first Harry stared at her blankly. Then the corner of his mouth started to tick up as laughter overcame him. After several moments, Ron and Hermione, not having caught Ginny's lapse back into childhood, looked at Harry as if he had gone demented. "Are you daft!" Ron said in a harsh whisper, "Stop it, people are starting to stare."

Harry forced himself to stop laughing and looked around to find that Ron was right, an awful lot of people were looking his way. Several were nodding their heads regretfully and looking pointedly at their neighbors, as if to say, 'Yup, Potter's finally fallen off his rocker. Knew it would happen sooner or later.' He looked at Ginny to find that her cheeks had pinkened slightly, and she was also suppressing a smile. Now that he finally had her looking at him without that heated, angry look in her eyes, he grasped her hand in his under the table, and his expression became serious. "I'm sorry," he whispered simply, sincerely, and Ginny's heart softened. Just when she was about to respond, there was a commotion by the doors, and a large group of very small people, led by McGonagall, entered the room. So Ginny just nodded and squeezed his hand, but he understood, and interlaced his fingers with hers as the sorting started.

The sorting hat's song, though entertaining, said nothing that Harry didn't already know. He sat through it with what could best be described as polite disinterest, and his eye wandered along the staff table. He noticed that he was not the only one whose attention was waning.

While most of the professors and staff were focused on the hat or the group of nervous children in front of them, Snape was looking down the table with a look that Harry found he could not quite describe. Simply calling it hatred wasn't enough to express the intense loathing and abhorrence that was written there. And as often as he had been on the receiving end of Snape's hate-filled gazes, Harry had a feeling that they weren't even close to this.

Harry followed Snape's stare to the center of the staff table, where, on Dumbledore's right, sat a woman that Harry didn't recognize. She looked to be in her early forties, though there were some streaks of gray hair framing a very handsome face. The rest of her hair was a dark brown, and it appeared to fall past her waist. She held herself ramrod straight, her chin held at a haughty, proud angle, her hands folded gracefully under her chin as she listened attentively. As he watched, she lifted one of her hands to tuck her hair behind her ear, and Harry suddenly felt as if he should know her from somewhere. He stared at her, trying to remember something, but what he didn't know. Had he seen her before? Where?

He didn't know why, maybe because he was focusing on her so intently, but she looked up suddenly, and he saw her eyes widen almost imperceptibly when they rested on him. For a second they held each other's stares and then she turned her attention back to the proceedings. The nagging feeling that he had seen her before wouldn't go away, and he didn't realize that the sorting hat's song was over until Ginny shook his hand off hers so that she could applaud with everyone else.

Harry tried to pay attention to the sorting, but he kept glancing back at the woman. Who was she? Of course, he knew why she was there; being the only new person at the head table, and the target of Snape's animosity, there was little doubt in Harry's mind that she was the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

After about twenty minutes the sorting was finished, and it was finally time to eat. Harry could hear Ron's stomach growling from across the table, and he grinned when Hermione lowered her eyebrows at Ron. Ron shrugged his shoulders and whispered something like, "I can't help it, has a mind of its own."

The tables were soon creaking under tons of lavishly prepared food, and now that conversation was allowed, Harry asked, "Does anyone know who that woman is sitting next to Dumbledore?"

The other three looked at the head table, but they all shook their heads, and Hermione said, "Well, she's obviously the new Defense teacher, but I've never seen her before."

"As long as she isn't anything like Umbrige, I don't care where she's from," Ron said, and Ginny nodded.

"I don't think its possible to get any worse then Umbrige, though. I hope she rots in St. Mungo's, awful woman," Ginny frowned, and shivered in disgust. Harry normally would have been surprised to hear her speak so venomously about anyone, but in this case it was well deserved.

"I just have this strange feeling I should know her from somewhere. . ." Harry muttered.

Ginny looked at him curiously, "Well, I'm sure we'll find out who she is when Dumbledore gives his start of term speech," she said, and then they turned to other subjects. Harry looked around the hall and waved periodically to people he knew. He spotted Cho sitting with Michael Corner at the Ravenclaw table, and grew a little nauseous at the sight of them fawning over each other. It wasn't that he was in any way jealous, it was just that. . .ugh, that could have been him! He thought back to how blinded he had been by Cho, and silently wondered what he had been thinking. Sure, she was a nice girl, and pretty, but there was nothing really. . .special about her. Not like Ginny. He looked down at her as she laughed at something Hermione said. He loved it when she laughed like that, her whole face lit up with amusement. He suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her. He leaned in, and was surprised when she pushed him away, no longer laughing. "Harry, there are people here!" she whispered, looking around nervously, afraid that someone might have caught the exchange between the two of them.

"So?" Harry asked, smiling down at her mischievously.

"Sooo, I'd prefer to do that sort of thing in private, thank you, without my brother sitting right across the table from me. And even if I did want to, I haven't broken up with Dean yet, and I would rather that he didn't find out like this."

Harry's smile abruptly faded, "When ARE you going to break up with Dean, anyway?"

"Oh, stop. I haven't even had a chance to talk to him at all yet. I'm going to do it tonight," Ginny said, looking towards Dean worriedly.

Harry felt uneasy all of a sudden. To keep himself from staring at Dean malevolently, he looked over at the Slytherin table and spotted Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. He looked sullen and didn't appear to be speaking to anyone. Harry supposed that Malfoy's bad mood was largely because of the fact that his father was still in Azkaban. Harry grinned, and his spirits lifted considerably knowing that he had contributed in some way to Malfoy's depression.

The hall was quieting swiftly, and Harry looked to the front of the room to see that Dumbledore had stood and was raising his hands for silence, waiting patiently. "Very good, very good," he said, when the hall was finally silent, "I believe that it is now time to get the niceties out of the way. First, a usual reminder that the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds for all students. Magic is not allowed outside the classroom, and any clubs," Harry could swear that Dumbledore looked straight at him, "or 'gatherings' must have permission from their head of House or myself before they continue with any such unauthorized activities. I assure you, permission will likely be granted gladly," Dombledore was definitely looking at him. "Let me see. Oh, yes, Quidditch tryouts will be held this Friday, the 6th. And now that's over with," Dumbledore finished, "I would like to introduce Professor Fiore," he inclined his head towards the woman sitting next to him, "who has kindly taken time off from the ministry to join our staff as Hogwart's new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I have no doubt that she will be treated with as much respect as she deserves." There was some polite clapping, and Professor Fiore nodded and smiled, until it had died down. Harry felt disappointed. He had hoped that the woman's name would strike a chord with him, but was sure that he had never heard it before. "Thank you all for waiting so patiently, you are now excused. First years make sure to follow the prefects to your dormitories."

As the rest of the Hall began to leave their tables, Hermione could be heard yelling, "first years! Over here, please," and she and Ron stood waiting for the group to gather in front of them. Harry and Ginny, not having to stay behind, got up together and made their way toward the door. They were almost there when Harry heard a familiar voice say, "Mr. Potter!" and he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. It was McGonagall.

"Potter, I would like to see you in my office in five minutes or so, if you don't mind." Harry wasn't exactly sure why she added the last bit. Like he was going to say no.

"Yes Professor," Harry said, scanning his mind and trying to remember if he had done anything wrong lately. She hadn't found out about them locking Ron and Hermione in the Astronomy Tower, had she? Harry felt sick at the thought.

McGonagall nodded and hurried away, trying to rush stragglers off to their dorms. Ginny looked at him, "What is that all about?" she asked.

"Don't know," Harry said, looking worried, "You don't think she knows about what we did to Ron and Hermione, do you?"

Ginny shook her head, "No, she would have asked me to come to her office, too. And she didn't really seem angry."

"I didn't think so either. Well, I guess I'll just meet you back in the commons, then. I'll just head to her office now, no point in walking back to the rooms."

"All right," Ginny said, and looking around quickly to make sure no one was looking, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek before smiling at him and running off in the other direction.

Harry entered Professor McGonagall's office a few minutes later. She sat at her desk and looked up when he knocked on the frame of her open door. "Oh, yes, Potter. Please come in," she said, and got up to look in some cabinets behind her desk. He walked further into the room as she pulled a paper out of the drawers and turned back to him. "There seems to have been a mistake. This should have been sent to you with your Hogwarts letter," she explained as she handed the letter to him.

He skimmed over the paper once and then read through it carefully, "This says I've been made Quidditch captain," he said in disbelief, and looked up at McGonagall for confirmation.

"Well, I should hope that's what it says, as that's what I've called you here to talk about," McGonagall said, smiling slightly. Then her expression became more stern, "Do not take this job lightly, Potter. You will be responsible for the success, or failure, of the Gryffindor team. You have two chasers that you need to replace, and it will be your duty to organize all practices and manage the team. Remember that you and Ms. Bell are the only people who have been on the team for more then a year," Harry paled slightly at this realization, and McGonagall looked at him kindly as she said, "However, I have every confidence that you will not let this be an excuse to lose. Here is a schedule of times the pitch has been booked for Gryffindor, along with the time you have been allotted to hold tryouts," she handed him another sheet of paper. "Now, unless you have any questions, you are excused, Potter," she said, as she sat back down at her desk.

"No, I'm good Professor. Thanks," he said as he backed out of the room, and couldn't keep the smile off his face. McGonagall nodded at him, and smiled slightly as she watched him go.

Harry couldn't stem his excitement. He should have known that he would be made captain, really. Who else could have been, other then Katie, who had told him last year that she wouldn't accept the captaincy even if it was offered to her. He just hadn't thought about it. He headed back to the common room, thoughts of Quidditch dancing merrily through his head. He needed to tell someone, and the first person he wanted to share the news with was Ginny.

He was turning the corner when he heard her voice. His smile widened. She must be waiting for him in the hall. But then he heard another deeper, more masculine voice, and his smile faltered. He slowed and tried to make out what they were saying, but they were too far away. Then they came into sight, and Harry stopped walking altogether.

He came upon them at the worst possible moment. He didn't know it, but had he seen the kiss from any other angle it wouldn't look so damning. He would have seen that Ginny's eyes were wide in shock and that she was pressing her lips tightly closed. He would have also seen that she had wedged her hands between them and was pushing at Dean's chest futilely, and that his hand was holding her head still as she tried to pull away. But seeing the kiss as he did, with Ginny's back to him, Harry didn't see that. It appeared to him that Ginny was as involved in the kiss as Dean was, and he felt everything go still inside of him. The parchment he had been holding was crushed in his fist as he stemmed the urge to go beat the crap out of Dean. Against his will, he started to approach them. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything," he said coldly.

Dean let go of Ginny and she pushed him away from her quickly, wiping the back of her hand over her mouth. She turned to Harry, looking relieved. Then she saw the expression on his face, and realizing what he must be thinking she ran to him and put her hands on his chest entreatingly. "Wait, Harry, it's not what you think-"

"Really," he sneered, throwing her hands off him. "Forgive me if I find that hard to believe," he looked at her lips, swollen from Dean's kisses, and knew he needed to get away before he hurt someone, possibly her. He shouted the password curtly at the Fat Lady, and quickly disappeared into the common room.

"Harry, please listen-" she called after him, but the portrait had swung shut in her face. She stomped her foot on the ground in aggravation and turned to Dean, who was standing where she had pushed him, looking a little guilty. Not saying anything, she walked straight to him, and slapped him sharply across the face. He looked angry, but when he opened his mouth to protest, she pointed her finger in front of his face and said, her voice quaking with fury, "Don't you ever touch me again. Ever." She then turned on her heel and followed Harry into the common room.

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Next chapter coming soon. . .and please forgive my Dumbledore, I had trouble writing him for some reason. (=

Oh, and if you want to know how to pronounce Fiore, just think Italian;)