Chapter 3

When the long weekend was over, every member of the Gryffindor Quidditch team knew that they were in for a rigorous practice on Monday. However, they were not aware of their Captain's distorted ulterior motives.

"We had a great game on Friday, team," he said, staring at the many members as he spoke that day at practice. "I was very impressed. But we didn't do our best. We have more potential than that. Chasers, you could have been a heck of a lot faster. Beaters, where were you when Ravenclaw scored their last goal? You looked like you were clueless! And Dane!" he said, addressing their Keeper. "You did wonderful! One of your best games. You did the best you could. Now, you know what our winning this game meant, don't you?"

"We're in the lead for the Cup Playoffs, right?" Ginny asked. She was seated on the front bench, like she always was.

Harry's hard face softened for a few seconds as he smiled at Ginny. "Exactly right. Now I have no idea who we're playing, of course, because the actual tournament date is not until February 7, and the next match on Friday will tell us who we're playing. So it's either Hufflepuff or Slytherin at this point. We haven't got much time. It's already the twentieth. I want a good effort today. Let's go!"

The team got up and ran out of the locker room as Harry had always encouraged them to, arrived at the field, and kicked off onto their brooms. It was a cool and fresh morning. Harry always enjoyed the feeling of the wind on his face. It woke him up no matter what.

He definitely needed to be awakened after the events of the past weekend. Ever since their brief trip to Hogsmeade, Harry and Ginny had found that they enjoyed being together even more than before. Harry went to Ginny's dorm to talk to her the next morning and Ginny had only yelled, "No, no, Saturday… no Quidditch," and went back to sleep.

Of course, Harry's intentions had not been to practice or even talk about Quidditch. He had been so anxious the night before to talk to her about what she meant that he couldn't think of anything else but seeing her the next morning. It was a strange feeling, to never want to be away from one person. He wondered how Ron and Hermione dealt with the feeling all the time.

It hurt him when she said 'no Quidditch.' All Harry could do was walk away and think to himself, "Is that all she thinks about when it comes to me? Is that all she associates me with? Quidditch?"

They spent all day with Ron and Hermione, which really meant Harry and Ginny were on their own while the other two spouted off the occasional, "So how are you doing today?" to them without really caring. Harry found that being by himself was much better than having to watch Ron and Hermione ogle each other.

Luckily enough, he wasn't alone with the two of them. Ginny had opted to spend time with him that day. Of course that meant no Quidditch. Especially if that was the only way in which she thought about him.

"Harry?"

A voice called him out of the distance and he looked up quickly. It was Carly, one of their Chasers. She was looking at him, concerned. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm all right," he answered offhandedly. He smiled at her for in thanks for caring, and bolted away from her. The team had begun their normal warm up and he started as well.

Dane had done his and left the air to grab the practice balls, as he usually did. He let go of the enchanted practice Bludgers. Their Beaters, Dietrich Babcock and Jack Hughes, shot after their balls, using their clubs to knock them all over the field. Ginny, Carly, and their third Chaser, Andrew, waited anxiously for the Quaffle so they could begin their separate practice.

Harry went to the ground to grab his newest bag of golf balls. He and Dane usually worked on their drills together. Harry would throw the balls at him to dive and catch, and using an Engorging Charm, he would throw the oversized ball at one of the hoops for Dane to catch. The golf balls were usually a lot harder than the actual Quaffle, but it worked for Dane.

Soon, a normal Quidditch practice was underway. Harry looked around and saw to his delight that all the members were working harder than usual. They were determined to win the Cup this year.

Harry stopped for a second to observe the Chasers in action and, more specifically, Ginny. She really had grown up so much in the short time he had known her. He had grown, and as he truly thought about it, he had become quite fond of the youngest Weasley.

After a while, Harry began to feel sore, which usually meant that it was time for practice to end. However, after looking over at Miss Weasley, he suddenly didn't feel the need to leave.

"Is practice over, Potter?" Dietrich called, swinging his bat through the air aimlessly.

Harry shook his head, signaling the team to come closer toward him. They all flew over raggedly. "It's been two hours, Harry, can we go in?" Dane asked, yawning.

Again, Harry shook his head. They all groaned. He gave them a piercing look of warning. "Do you want to win that Cup this year, or what? We have to really train! We don't have much time left."

"All right, Wood," Ginny said, smirking.

Harry dared to smile a tad. "We've got to get ready for whatever team we're facing, all right? We're going to play today like Slytherin's won. Remember their defense, their strategies, their tactics…"

"Their Seeker," Carly snorted inadvertently. Harry shot her a look of warning and she clammed right up.

"Right then. We play an hour against Slytherin. Then I want us to bring it so we can¯" he looked at Ginny quickly and then reordered his question. He was about to tell them they could go in, but he couldn't. He somehow felt like he needed to be around Ginny. "So we can go for another hour like we're playing Hufflepuff." The team groaned, including Ginny.

"Come on, Wood," she demanded. "Four hours? You don't seem to get it."

"No," he interjected. "You don't seem to get it, J. We've got exactly thirteen practices before the Cup. But remember, four of these practices we're going to be unaware of who we're playing, so we've only got eleven practices to figure out their tactics. Do you understand now?"

"You just threw a bunch of numbers at us," Jack complained. "No one understands a thing."

Harry groaned. "Well, then don't worry about it. Practice will go on for another two hours."

He said no more, turning on his broom to go and fetch the balls. The rest of the team dispersed, muttering angrily. However, Carly kept close to Ginny. She whispered, "You are the only one that knows how to get through to him. Do you think you could convince him to let us in earlier?"

Ginny shrugged. "I don't know. When Harry's set on doing something, it's usually sort of hard to talk him out¯I do what?" she screeched. She was looking at Carly incredulously.

"Oh, please," Dane sighed from behind her. She looked up. He was rolling his eyes. "You have got our Captain wrapped around your finger and you don't even realize it."

"WHAT?" she screamed again. "What are you talking about… it's just Harry! I don't have anything…"

"Yeah, right," Carly said next to her. "Haven't you noticed the way he smiles when you answer one of his insane questions right?"

"Or the fact that he always makes you sit in the front?"

"Or the way he stops talking whenever he looks at you?"

"I noticed that too!"

Ginny thought the other two were going insane, yet she couldn't help but think about this herself. Why did Harry do all those things? Surely he couldn't… no… there was no possible way. But then again, Friday night in Hogsmeade had made her think of a lot of different things when it came to Harry.

He'd woken her up on Saturday morning. Ginny wouldn't even allow herself to entertain the fact that he was up there to talk to her. He was up there for Quidditch. That was all he really saw her as – Ron's great Quidditch playing little sister. At least, that's what she thought.

He was Harry Potter! If he wanted, he could have been dating any girl in the entire castle. Of course, he had so much on his mind that she didn't blame him for only thinking about Quidditch half the time. It cleared his head.

The Quidditch scrimmage began, and Harry was yelling things to look for when it came to Slytherin. The team had gone through an entire practice once, pretending they were playing Slytherin. They learned how to dodge the fouls that Slytherin loved to dole out. They went around elbowing and kicking each other, practicing how to either ignore them or counterattack without getting a foul of their own. The game against Slytherin had gone unbelievably smoothly.

"Play like we're actually playing them!"

Ginny always had fun pretending she was a Slytherin. She raced up behind Andrew, yanking on his broom. Their defense for not getting whiplash against this attack was to lean over quickly to one side, dipping their broom as well. This would throw the person on the back off balance if they were still hanging on, while maintaining their own balance.

The practice against 'Slytherin' went quite well. Harry had them all huddled in the middle, and feeling too weary to stay on his Firebolt for long, he gave in and let them go back to the castle. Ginny didn't even have to open her mouth.

As soon as everyone hit the ground, they walked so briskly into the castle that they were out of sight before Harry descended. He walked over to the box of balls and sighed, cleaning them up.

"Do you need help?"

Harry looked up to see Ginny setting down her broom and walking over toward him slowly. He smirked.

"I thought you'd be in by now," he said.

"I thought you'd need help. Do you?" She stopped in front of him.

He smiled at her, packing the balls away. "Well, no, but I'd like some company."

She smiled back shyly and walked with him to the equipment shed. "I was curious about something, Harry."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Why did you make practice so long today?" After what Dane and Carly had said, she had become very interested in this exact question.

He shrugged. He couldn't tell her why. How would that sound? I really wanted to be around you longer because you're all I think about.

"We've got thirteen practices until the Cup, and if we're going to win¯"

Ginny stepped up closer to him, causing his breath to catch in his throat. "Why did you make practice go so long?"

She completely amazed him. She'd seen right through his act. But how could that be? Surely he'd been more discreet about her feelings than that… hadn't he?

"There's a reason for everything, J," he whispered, turning away and closing the doors of the shed.

"Well, what's the reason for this?"

He said nothing.

"And why do you call me J?" she said, a smile playing on her face. "I've always wondered that."

"I'll take that one to the grave with me," he told her, smiling as well. They stood close together for a few seconds and said nothing.

"Why did you make practice go so long?"

"I think you know the answer to that one, J," he told her knowingly, going to pick up his Firebolt and head in.

She rushed after him, grabbing her broom while she ran by. "Harry, please tell me, I don't know."

He stopped, turning toward her. All he could do was stare at her, entranced. She had gotten so pretty in five years that it shocked him. He couldn't believe the urge he had to touch her face… and especially her hair. He held back.

"We have thirteen practices before the Cup."

Ginny watched him walk away and knew there was only one way to get through to him. Hermione.