Change of Heart

by Lplus

During the late summer of 1996 and the first term of his sixth year, Harry Potter wrestles with the machinations of his enemies, the growth of his powers and the consequences of a Change of Heart HT then HG also RHr COMPLETE at last.

30. Anger Mismanagement

Ch 30:- Anger Mismanagement

It was quite late when Dean and Ginny returned. All the younger members of the House had gone to bed, as had quite a few of the older students. There was a palpable tension between them as they walked in, but there was a hint of apology in Ginny's demeanour that suggested that she was the cause of the friction. The few words they'd said quietly to each other did nothing to dispel Harry's first impression. He couldn't make them out, but he got the impression Dean wasn't happy at all, and Ginny was half apologetic and half annoyed. Although he really tried very hard, Harry couldn't stop himself feeling a certain satisfaction at their discontent.

Ginny said a short goodnight and vanished up the stairs to the girls' dorms. Dean made some monosyllabic reply and was heading straight for the boys' dorm, when Ron's impeccable sense of timing told him that the time to 'find out' had come.

As usual, he didn't mince his words.

'Oi, Thomas.' he bawled. 'What have you been doing to my sister?'

The whole room went silent. Dean stopped dead and turned back to glare at Ron.

'Nothing. – Weasley.'

'Oh really?'

'Yeah! Really! Well, - nothing you need to worry about, that's for sure!'

Ron snorted in disgust. 'Oh come on, you expect me to believe that?'

Dean came back down the couple of steps he'd climbed and stood over Ron where he was sitting in an armchair. Dean's fists were clenched and he was obviously hanging onto his temper by his fingernails.

'Don't worry, Ronnykins.' he hissed. 'I told you, I haven't done anything. Your precious bloody sister sees to that!'

Harry heard Hermione's slight gasp and saw her put her hand on Ron's arm, but he just sat looking up at Dean in puzzlement.

'And what's that supposed to mean?' he asked truculently.

'Work it out for yourself.' snarled Dean then he turned and started up the stairs to the dorms again.

Harry was never sure whether Dean meant his next comment to be heard, but it was loud enough for Ron's ears.

'Bloody – teaser.'

Ron shook off Hermione's restraining arm and started up the stairs after Dean. Harry just sat back and hunched down in his chair as he saw Hermione's eye's beginning to sweep the room.

'Harry!'

Harry hunched down even further, but Hermione had spotted him. She promptly dragged him out of his chair and pushed him towards the stairs.

'Gettoff, Hermione!'

'Well, get up those stair and stop Ron doing something stupid!'

Harry stopped, forcing Hermione to a halt behind him. He turned.

'It's their problem, not mine!' he hissed. He could see the remaining occupants of the common room staring at them both.

'What is wrong with you, Harry? Why won't you get involved?'

Harry stayed silent as Hermione looked beseechingly at him. He knew she couldn't realise just how hard he had worked to shut off his feelings; how fragile were the walls he had built in his mind that allowed him to watch Ginny and Dean, together, day after day.

Suddenly Hermione seemed to give up.

'All right, I'll go and stop them.' she muttered, then dodged round Harry and started up the stairs.

Harry turned and rushed after her, catching up by the time they'd reached the first landing. He grabbed her arm and hauled her to a stop.

'Don't be crazy!' he growled. 'I'll go see what they're doing, but I don't know what you think I can do. I'm trying to keep out of it.

'Why? Harry. These are your friends! And they're fighting over another of your friends!'

Harry was now a step above Hermione. He leaned down and looked her in the face.

'Yeah, Ginny!' he hissed 'This is her fault really. She chose bloody Dean! She gets everyone wound up! And guess who has to sort it all out!'

He turned away from Hermione and started up the stairs again.

- o -

As he approached the door to the sixth year boys' dorm, Harry could already hear the sound of argument - through the three inch thick door. Once he reached the door, he could hear what was being said, or rather, shouted. He was quite astounded at the insults Ron and Dean were heaping on each other - and on Ginny.

Harry wasn't prepared for that. In the privacy of his own mind, he'd sometimes cursed her, and cursed himself even worse, for the situation he was in. It helped a bit. It was the mortar that the walls in his mind were made of, a bulwark against his own feelings.

If he couldn't love, then he'd hate.

Hearing others cursing Ginny was another matter. Something in his mind snapped.

The door slammed back against the wall as Harry just pushed it open. That alone should have warned him.

Four faces turned towards him. Neville and Seamus were standing by their beds, and as they recognised Harry, they turned back to the figures of Ron and Dean in the middle of the room. Ron and Dean glanced sideways for a second or so, long enough to realise it was Harry and discount him, before they started the argument again.

Harry didn't hesitate. He strode to the centre of the room, placed his hands on Ron and Dean's chests and, closing his eyes, pushed them violently apart.

Harry could feel the two protagonists fighting back against his hands, but he kept his eyes shut and stayed absolutely still, forcing them to stay back, whilst he kept trying to blot out the words he had heard just before he had opened the door.

Someone was shouting, but Harry took no notice. They could just wait there till they'd calmed down.

The shouting continued;

'Harry!'

'Harry!'

The shouts were getting frantic.

'HARRY!'

'HARRY! – LET THEM BREATHE!'

Harry's eyes snapped open. Seamus was standing inches from him, screaming into his face. He glanced left and right and realised in an instant why Seamus had been screaming.

Despite feeling Ron and Dean pushing on his hands, they were nowhere near him. Ron was crushed into the corner of the room on top of a chest of drawers and Dean was pressed against the back of his wardrobe, surrounded by his clothing and the splintered timber of the doors.

Both Ron and Dean were trying desperately to breath - and they were both failing miserably.

Harry snatched his hands back as if he'd touched something red hot. He wrapped them round himself and hugged himself in horror as Ron and Dean slumped to the floor, gasping for breath. Dean was also bleeding from several cuts caused by splintered wood.Neville ran to Dean andSeamus was already trying to help Ron. Harry stood in the centre of the room, paralysed by shock.

'Dammit Harry!' yelled Seamus. 'Give us a hand here. Ron's got a broken arm where he was crushed into the chest!'

Harry jerked into action, dashing to Ron's side and trying to work out if anything else was broken.

Ron was breathing slightly easier at least, and he stared at Harry as if he was a total stranger.

'Ron! I'm so sorry, Ron!' cried Harry.

Ron tried to speak, but he could only gasp his words as he continued to struggle for breath.

'Yeah – Harry.' he managed, before slumping down, eyes closed and concentrating on breathing.

Harry stood up and hurried over to Dean. He too had his eyes closed, but Harry tried to apologise anyway.

'I'm sorry, Dean. I just lost control. I'm really, really, sorry!'

Dean didn't open his eyes, but he managed to nod in recognition of Harry's apology.

Harry returned to Ron, and was kneeling by his friend putting a pain killing charm on his broken arm when Professor McGonagall stormed into the dorm with a face like thunder. She stared open mouthed at the broken furniture and injured Gryffindors.

'MR. POTTER!' she shouted, 'What the blazes has been going on here?'

Harry jumped to his feet and rushed over to face the Housemistress.

'Professor, it was a mistake!' he gasped. There was an argument, and I –'

McGonagall cut him off.

'I know there was an argument, Mr. Potter! I could hear the noise from my chambers, though fortunately, not what they were saying. That is why I am here. My question relates to the carnage around me.' She brushed past Harry and strode over to Dean. His various cuts were bleeding freely, lending the scene a slight hint of butchers shop, but McGonagall looked him over cursorily before turning to Ron.

'Minor cuts and abrasions, Mr Thomas, I'll get you to the hospital wing in minute. Now then Mr. Weasley, what about you?'

As McGonagall bent down to look at Ron, the door slammed back against the wall once more. Harry stood frozen to the spot as Ginny Weasley stormed into the room and looked round. Her eyes grew wide as she took in the blood covered Dean and the groaning Ron. Hermione had stumbled into the room behind Ginny and was looking round with horror. Once she saw Ron was hurt she abandoned all pretence of backing up Ginny and rushed to his side.

Ginny didn't need backup. She stepped forward and faced Harry.

'Who did this?' she hissed. Her eyes were blazing.

'They were arguing!' he said.

'So?'

'I tried to stop them, and -well - ' Harry faltered at the hatred in Ginny's eyes. She didn't say anything more, she just took one more step forward and slapped him.

Harry saw her swing her hand back. He could have dodged if he'd thought, but a little voice in his mind was telling him that he really deserved a good slap, and that hesitation was enough.

At the last millisecond, Harry realised that Ginny was really, really trying - and that this was going to hu-

- o -

Pain.

Pain in the side of his face.

A throbbing, aching pain.

Harry groaned and tried to move his head. Another pain started up in his neck, but his head refused to shift. His left ear was ringing, loudly.

Something moved on Harry's right side. He couldn't see it, but he heard the rustle of cloth and the creak of a chair. A few seconds later Harry's right ear picked up the sound of a door opening and closing.

He tried to open his eyes. One of them didn't want to move. The other opened slowly, but the blurred view it provided didn't give him a great deal of information; just a glimmer of light on a high ceiling.

Harry was trying to work out where he was and what had happened. His befuddled mind was struggling with a series of disconnected mental pictures - and making very little sense of them - when he heard the door open again and a bustle of footsteps as someone hurried into the room.

'Well Mr. Potter,' boomed the voice of Madam Pomfrey. 'Lets see what Miss Weasley did to you.'

The Matron loomed over him, fuzzy in the light of the lamps as they brightened at her command. She peered down and shone a small light in his right eye.

'Hmmmm. Very good. Very good indeed. Lets have a look at the rest of the damage. Finite Incantatem!'

Harry could suddenly move his head, but the pain in his neck when he did so made him wish he couldn't. The Matron's fingers were surprisingly gentle as they touched the side of his face, but at least twice a bolt of agony stabbed into Harry's cheek, making him gasp.

'Hmmmm.' repeated the Matron. Next she pointed something else at Harry that hummed slightly. A sort of purple/green light appeared at the corner of his vision, over the injured side of his face.

'So, a fractured cheekbone, as well as the broken jaw we mended when you were brought in. Well we can fix that right now. Though the bruising and muscle damage will take a little longer and I don't think your eye and ear will be too good for a day or so.'

Harry gasped. The next quidditch match was in two weeks and next practice was next Sunday. He couldn't say anything though, because even moving his jaw slightly was out of the question. At last Madam Pomfrey applied a painkilling charm and began to touch his face. After a few gentle prods she muttered the charm to heal his cheekbone.

'Right, now you can try talking.' she instructed.

Harry's first question was about the quidditch practice.

'Will I be able to make practice this Saturday, Madam Pomfrey?'

The Matron looked down at Harry with a gentle smile.

'I'm afraid not. Saturday is tomorrow.'

'What?'

'You were hit so hard we feared possible damage to your brain and decided to immobilise you and keep you unconscious for a while. You've been unconscious for two days, Mr. Potter.'

Harry lay back, mouth open. TWO DAYS. What had Ginny done?

Harry immediately answered his own question. Ginny had done the same as he had to Ron and Dean, she had added magic to her slap. The only question now was, did she hate him so much that she did it on purpose, or had she simply lost control, just like he had?

Madam Pomfrey was now applying various charms to reduce the pain and swelling around his eye and the rest of his face. She was obviously having some success, because his left eye opened slowly and blearily.

'Madam Pomfrey?' asked Harry in a worried tone of voice. 'Has Ginny Weasley been punished?'

Madam Pomfrey stopped mumbling charms. 'No. She said she didn't mean to hurt you, at least not quite so badly, and Professor McGonagall accepts her statement. Besides, Miss Weasley has punished herself enough.'

Harry managed a questioning look.

'Miss Weasley has sat beside your bed for almost literally the whole time you were unconscious, she did not even leave to eat. It was she who told me just now that you were awake.'

Harry's mouth dropped open in surprise. He didn't have any antipathy towards Ginny - at least, not now. He was just puzzled, Dean wouldn't have liked that at all.

- o -

An hour and a half later, Harry was feeling a good deal less second hand. Although his face was still bruised, Madam Pomfrey had managed to repair the worst of the damage, including the wrenched tendons in his neck; and his ear didn't ring quite so loudly. He was sitting up, trying to eat some soup, when Ron and Hermione sauntered in, looking suspiciously innocent.

'Hi, Harry.' said Hermione, breezily. She looked at his face more closely and grimaced 'Ouch. That must have really hurt! No wonder Professor McGonagall reckoned you didn't need to be punished any more.'

'She's right at that.' muttered Harry. 'Good job I was unconscious for the last two days!'

Ron wandered round to the other side of the bed. He didn't seem to be suffering any ill effects from his broken arm, though the odd small bruise showed on his hands and face.

'Ginny told us you just woke up, Harry.' he said. 'She – er – packs a real punch, doesn't she?'

'Yeah. – I guess I deserved it though, didn't I!'

Ron looked uncomfortable. He glanced up at Hermione, who nodded to him emphatically.

'Truth is, Harry, it was partly my fault, - and Dean's. When Ginny found out what we'd been arguing about, we thought we were going to end up like you.'

'How did she find out?'

'Neville told her.'

'Neville? Neville wouldn't even know half the words you two were using about her! What did she do, use veritaserum?'

Hermione was looking rather shocked at Harry's comment. 'She didn't tell me this. Just what were you saying, Ron?'

Ron ignored Hermione's question but he looked even more uncomfortable. 'Worse than that, Harry, Neville didn't exactly tell her. She used legilimens on him.'

Harry and Hermione both stared at Ron with stunned expressions on their faces.

Ron continued resolutely. 'Yours isn't the only library with books on that subject, Harry. She got one from the library here, the day after you mentioned it, apparently, and she'd been practicing for the last couple of months, with Luna!'

'Neville wouldn't have any defences at all.' whispered Harry.

'And he'd have known exactly what she was doing.' added Hermione quietly.

'She said she got the whole argument off him, word for word.' muttered Ron. 'I tell you, me and Dean thought we were going to end up in here, next to you...if we were lucky.'

'And then?'

Ron sighed. 'Then she stormed up here to sit watching you.'

Now Harry understood why Dean hadn't complained about Ginny sitting here for two days. He hadn't dared.

Eventually, Hermione and Ron hurried off to the great hall for dinner, leaving Harry considering the implications of Ginny's behaviour and trying to finish his now cold soup. He also had time to consider the irony of knowing enough magic to stop a death eater or a dementor, but not a single warming charm.

- o -

Harry left the hospital wing on Sunday morning. His face was an interesting collection of colours, but the swelling had gone and his vision and hearing were back to normal. He'd have been released quicker, but the Healing profession were always chary of using too much magic on the senses and the brain

The snow had turned to rain in the few days Harry had been incarcerated, and most of the Gryffindors were either in the dormitories or the common room, or in the Library. It was Ravenclaw's turn to practice on the quidditch pitch that morning, and he didn't envy them at all.

A sudden silence greeted Harry's arrival in the common room, followed by a few ribald comments about his bruises from the likes of Colin Creevey and Jack Sloper. Alison and Stephanie Linney jumped up and welcomed him in, Alison joking that Stephanie was really disappointed that Harry was back, because she had wanted to play seeker in the next match whilst Alison took Harry's place as chaser. Stephanie had blushed hotly and stammered a denial. Harry could only smile at this, though in his mind he could see little Stephanie trying to get the snitch from Malfoy, and the mental picture was quite terrifying.

Eventually, Katie rescued him from the two girls by coming over and asking if he was going to be fit for the Slytherin match.

'Yeah, I'll be ready, don't you worry, Katie.' he reassured her.

'Thank heavens for that!' she said in a relieved voice. 'The rest of us are doing well, but you need a lot more chaser practise.'

Harry concurred. 'Right, I wonder if we can have a bit of extra practice during the week, lunchtimes or something, it's too dark in the morning and evening.' He looked round the room. Dean and Ginny were both missing, which didn't surprise him, though Hermione was sitting in the corner poring over a couple of ancient grimoires. He excused himself to Katie and wandered over to Hermione.

'Hi Hermie, Where's himself, then?'

She smiled at Harry and nodded up the stairs to the dorms 'Hi Harry,' she said happily. 'He's up there, supposedly revising for a care of magical creatures test next week. If you're going up, tell him I'm going to test him this afternoon.'

Harry grinned at her, 'You can test me too,' he wiggled his eyebrows, 'or was the test on something non academic?'

Hermione snorted and pretended to throw one of the grimoires at him, so he pretended to duck and started up the stairs, chuckling.

- o -

Pushing open the door to the dorm, Harry was met with a very different scene from last time. Ron was sitting on his bed, book in hand, writing notes on a piece of parchment, Neville and Seamus were playing wizard chess, and Dean was staring out of the window at the rain hammering against the glass.

'Harry!' exclaimed Neville. 'They rebuilt you then!'

Harry was relieved to see Neville had recovered from Ginny's invasion of his memory.

'Hi Harry. Niiiccee colour scheme.' added Seamus. 'Hey, Neville, check!'

Neville looked down at the board. His king was down on one knee, begging for mercy from one of Seamus' knights, whilst his remaining pieces on the board were hooting and catcalling in derision.

'Hi Harry, you got away then,' said Ron briefly, before burying his nose in the book again.

'Yeah. Hermione said she's going to test you on that, by the way'

Ron looked up again. 'I know, why d'you think I'm stuck up here trying to revise.'

There was just Dean left.

'Hi Dean,' ventured Harry.

Dean turned from his contemplation of the rain.

'Harry.' said Dean shortly.

'I'm sorry about – well – I'm sorry.' muttered Harry.

A shadow of a smile appeared on Dean's face. 'Yeah. OK. I – er – think you paid for it already, mate.'

Harry smiled wryly. 'Yeah, I guess so.' He was about to say more, but Dean had turned away and was once again looking out at the rain.

Harry sat down on his bed, feeling slightly deflated. He was back to normal with a bump. He looked at Ron desperately revising and suddenly remembered his challenge to Hermione that she could test him too. Next second he'd dug his Care of Magical Creatures textbook out of his cupboard and started work.

- o -

The clamour of the lunchtime bell broke into Harry's thoughts. The others were already heading out of the door, but Harry followed more slowly. He was wondering where Ginny had been and was not looking forward to seeing her at lunch, although, in fact, it turned out he had no choice.

As one of the last into the hall, he once again had to run the gauntlet of stares and whispered comments, though he adopted a singularly stern expression that deterred all but the most terminally dense from commenting. Even Malfoy just gloated and kept his mouth shut. The one or two people who did comment received a glare that silenced them as effectively as any gag.

Reaching his usual area on the Gryffindor table, opposite Ron and Hermione, he found a single space, with a red haired girl sitting on one side, head down, staring at her plate and with her hair drawn forward like a curtain. He sat down and looked worriedly at Hermione – who looked worriedly back and shrugged.

Harry looked round for Dean and saw him down the table, with Neville, and Seamus. Parvati and Lavender were sitting just Harry's side of them, and he saw Parvati glance up the table before turning to Dean and beginning to talk to him.

It was nearly ten minutes before Ginny finally said anything at all to Harry. She spent the time slowly eating, head down, not even talking to Ron and Hermione across the table from her. He was chewing on a mouthful of roast beef when, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed she was looking at him. He turned to her and caught a glint of a tear on her eyelash as she spoke.

All she said was 'I'm sorry, Harry.'

Harry had no time to make any reply before she sighed deeply and turned back to her dinner.

Harry had wanted to say that he forgave her, to thank her for sitting with him and for defying Dean, but the words froze in his throat. He couldn't mention her vigil now, and he couldn't mention Dean either, because he finally realised there was a reason Ginny wasn't sitting next to Dean; the same reason Dean had been staring out of the window, and was sitting beside Parvati Patil right now. All Harry could do was keep quiet and wonder if this was permanent - and if it was, how long it would be before Ginny chose someone else.

- o -

The rain had stopped by early afternoon so Harry had thoroughly muffled himself up against the wind and squelched down to the Quidditch pitch to watch Hufflepuff practice. The thought of avoiding being tested by Hermione on the subject of Care of Magical Creatures never even entered his mind – or so he told himself as he hurried down the stairs from the dorm.

Hermione had been so busy setting Ron fiendishly difficult questions that she never even noticed him until he was almost at the porthole.

'Harry Potter! You come back here right now!' were her words of farewell, accompanied by Ron's snort of amusement.

Harry thought he had got off quite lightly, and was almost feeling cheerful as he headed off down the corridor towards the castle entrance.

- o -

'Good afternoon, Mr. Potter.'

Harry jerked round at the sound of Professor McGonagall's voice. He immediately wished he hadn't, when the stab of pain in his neck made him gasp. Madam Pomfrey hadn't been able to fix everything.

McGonagall looked closely at him 'Hmmm. Still in a little pain, Harry?'

Harry nodded – slowly.

'Hmmm. Considering how hard Ginny Weasley hit you, you're lucky to still have a head.' she paused. 'I saw you were sitting next to her at lunch. - I hope she has apologised?'

'Yes, Professor.'

'Good. I understand from Messrs Weasley and Dean that you were suitably apologetic for your own burst of over enthusiasm, so perhaps we can call the incident closed.'

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. 'Thank you Professor.'

McGonagall considered Harry carefully for a few seconds, but it was Harry who spoke first.

'Professor, is there any news at all about the Ministry reorganisation?'

There was a pause. 'The Headmaster has told me nothing of the reorganisation, Harry, though he has said that the Minister is still recovering.' After a further pause Mcgonagall went on, 'I also understand you were to be investigated for underage apparation.'

Harry's heart sank.

'"Were", is the operative word, however. The Headmaster had a number of things to say to the department in question, especially as the head of department was a supporter of Dolores Umbridge.' McGonagall chuckled. 'I don't think you have any worries on that score any longer.' She grew serious. 'The most important thing for you to worry about is being fit for the match against Slytherin.'

'I'm just going down to the quidditch pitch to check out the Hufflepuffs, Professor.

'Hufflepuff?'

'Better than nothing, Professor.' said Harry with a grin.

McGonagall sniffed. 'Barely. - But I suppose you are right. – Well, don't just stand there, be off with you!'

Harry turned and hurried onwards towards the main entrance hall. He wondered once more at McGonagall's ability to always make him feel as if he's just been caught throwing dungbombs, or something equally juvenile.

- o -

In a corner of the Gryffindor stand, out of the wind as far as possible, Harry sat and watched the Hufflepuff team swoop and jink around the pitch. There was no doubt they'd got better, especially now Justin and Ernie were in the team as beaters. Susan Bones was making a good job of chaser, but the seeker wasn't really up to much. Harry reckoned Alison Linney could take him apart.

Harry had been watching for about fifteen minutes when a familiar head of hair appeared at the other end of the stand. There were a few other students, scattered around the various grandstands, but none near him. Ginny looked round and hesitated, but eventually started to move towards him. Harry sighed and waited. He was really quite amazed Ginny would come anywhere near him, considering her behaviour at lunch. Eventually, she sat down beside him, glanced at him quickly, and then began to silently watch the Hufflepuff team practice.

Harry wondered what on earth to say, finally deciding not to say anything at all. Ginny had joined him, - she probably had a reason, - and she'd get round to it in the end.

It was Justin Finch-Fetchley who provided an opening. He turned sharply in the air and threw the quaffle to Ernie, who missed it. Ernie dived after it, but it was falling almost straight at Harry and Ginny.

The sight of a heavy quaffle and a sixteen year old boy on a broomstick heading straight for him hit Harry's panic button hard. He threw up one arm to protect himself and was stunned to see the quaffle suddenly veer off towards the other side of the pitch. Ernie threw himself sideways and chased off after the errant ball, waving to Harry as he passed.

Ginny glanced sideways, with a tiny smile. 'You're getting too darn good at that automatic response thing, Harry.' she said.

Harry hesitated before answering. 'And you aren't?' he asked quietly, gently rubbing his bruised cheek.

'Touche.'

'No, just "ouch"'

There was a long silence, before Ginny spoke again.

'I've chucked Dean.' she said simply.

Harry wondered why on earth Ginny was making a point of telling him. He also wondered what to say. A part of him wanted to say "Congratulations" or "Good for you" but there was no way the rest of him would be so cruel and he really couldn't handle the hypocrisy needed to say he was sorry to hear it.

'For good?' was all he could come up with.

Another silence ensued, during which Zacharias Smith got hit by a bludger and started a huge argument with Justin, two hundred feet in the air.

'Yeah.'

Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbot joined in the argument.

'Hmmm,' murmured Harry, stuck again for something intelligent to say. Unfortunately he didn't find anything.

'Any idea who'll be next?' he ventured, a touch of bitterness in his voice.

There was a sharp intake of breath.

Harry winced as he realised just how unfeeling that must have sounded, but far from jumping up and leaving, or giving him an earful, Ginny just looked down at her hands and sighed.

'I think I might just leave it to fate.' she finally replied.

Harry glanced sideways. Ginny was looking at him with a neutral expression. He raised an eyebrow.

'Well, - I've got OWLs coming up,' she began, 'and quidditch, and – I - just think I'll give it all a rest for a while.' She stopped. 'Anyway -' she continued, but stopped again.

'Anyway?' prompted Harry, gently. The argument above the pitch was lowly drifting downwind over the lake. The squid surfaced and waved its tentacles at the Hufflepuffs. It seemed to be angry at the noise - and they were drifting downwards.

Ginny sighed again. 'The only person I'd really like to ask wouldn't be interested'

'You're sure?'

Harry really didn't want to know who it was.

Ginny nodded and looked up at the returning Hufflepuff team, who were now minus Zacharias Smith

'He's a silly sod' Harry muttered under his breath.

'Hmmm? – Smith?'

'Er – yeah. - Yeah, - Smith.'

There was a further silence as they both watched the Hufflepuffs recommence their practise and Smith drag himself and his broom out of the lake and up to the castle, but Ginny still seemed to have something on her mind.

'What about you?' she finally blurted out.

'What about me?' Harry asked cautiously

She was staring at her hands in their woollen gloves once more. 'Now that - Dora's - um, - busy elsewhere.' she said quietly.

'Oh. - I see, - well...' Harry hesitated. He didn't really want to talk about this at all. 'I suppose I'm sort of in the same situation as you.' he murmured. 'The only girl I'd be interested in isn't - interested - in me.'

Ginny sighed and shivered. She pulled her coat round herself.

'Life's a bitch, isn't it?' she whispered.

'Yeah.'