Chapter Five: Winners and Losers
I can't say that I was truly thrilled about the upcoming Quidditch match against Ravenclaw. The Gryffindor team was still down the two best Beaters and the best Seeker they'd had in ages. I was still extremely nervous about filling that particular Seeker's broom. After all, who am I to take the place of Harry Potter?
What am I saying? Sometimes I sound like I'm still in First Year, don't I? Honestly, I'm beginning to sound like Ron!
The loss of Fred and George as Beaters and Harry as Seeker couldn't compare to Ron's Quidditch skill as a Keeper, which at most, had been less than mediocre. Sure, he had done well during all the practices. You could even say that he was good. Not up to Oliver Wood standards–not yet. But, good all the same.
Unfortunately, poor Ron always seemed to get stage fright during the actual matches. He was so awful that even Slytherin House even made up that bloody song 'Weasley is our King'.
Weasley cannot save a thing,
He cannot block a single ring,
That's why Slytherins all sing:
Weasley is our King.
Weasley was born in a bin,
He always lets the quaffle in,
Weasley will make sure we win,
Weasley is our King.
It accomplished what they had meant, and they kept singing it during every match. The song's lyrics solidified his total humiliation and drained every last ounce of confidence from him. I can't even begin to tell you what this did to the team's morale.
Personally, I felt awful for Ron. He had finally gotten the chance he'd been waiting for since he walked though the doors to Hogwarts, and now it seemed his dreams of being a Quidditch star were disappearing into the Dark Forest.
After last night's dismal Quidditch practice, I found Ron hiding out in the corner of the locker room. Although Angelina pretended to be optimistic at the end of practice, the team left the pitch with a look of dread, and Ron himself, seemed mortified at the prospect of another humiliating game.
"It can't be all bad, Ron." I called out into the dark corner, where my brother stood staring at he pitch out the window.
"Ginny, look around," he answered blandly, not looking away from the window, "Nobody wants me to be here."
"Oh come on, Ron! You know that's not true. Angelina has faith in you. You wouldn't be on the team if she didn't. You just have to stop being so damn nervous all the time!"
Ron sighed heavily, still refusing to look at me. In a hushed voice, creaking with despair, he said, "I can't help it, Ginny. I keep hearing Fred and George in my head, telling me how lousy I am. Then when those Slytherin gits sing that song . . ."
"Look Ron," I huffed, not giving him the chance to sink deeper. "Fred and George are gone now. Quite honestly, I can't understand why on earth you would listen to them You know Fred and George, and yet you are actually listening to them? Shall I call St. Mungo's Hopeless Case Ward for you? You know better than that, Ron. How long have they been playing Quidditch with you at home? Don't you think they would have said something before you decided to try out for the team if you were that terrible?"
Ron's head dropped a bit. "Thanks Gin, but I don't think anything will help me now."
Irritated, I got up and made for the door. He's hopeless. He doesn't even want to believe! But by the time I reached the door, I stopped and turned around. I had to say something encouraging to him.
"Fred and George know you can do this, Ron. I know you can do this. Even you know you can do this, Ron! You just have to have some confidence in your abilities. We can all see it, why won't you? "
Honestly, I thought the worst part about the upcoming match against Ravenclaw was that I had no idea where Michael and I stood in our relationship. I knew things were coming to a head. The agonizing part was waiting around for the end result. Deep down I knew that this game would somehow decide once and for all, what was to happen to us. It seems strange, how quickly the fire and passion can be put out for one relationship, and yet, for another relationship, it never seems to die out–no matter how hard you might try to extinguish the flame.
The only thing Michael said to me that morning was a simple "good luck" on the game. Even then, I could tell his reaction was cold and forced. He merely kissed me on the forehead–a dead giveaway that he no longer had feelings for me. Honestly, I thought my own Mum kissed me with more passion than he had that morning. Michael left the Great Hall without saying another word.
An hour later, I was flying onto the pitch with the rest of the Gryffindors. As the brisk morning breeze whipped against my face, I looked for Michael in his usual spot in the stands. I was ready to take even the slightest amount of moral support from my estranged boyfriend. Much to my surprise, he was there, cheering excitedly and waving his hands at me after all.
Even now, I'm not sure what it was that made me do it. Perhaps it was to simply feel the self-satisfaction that she was the one alone now, without Harry's support, while I still had Michael cheering me on. I glanced back at Cho with satisfied smirk on my face.
I could not have been more wrong.
Cho was looking back at the stands as well. Oddly enough, in the same place that I'd been waving back at Michael.
For a moment, I thought I heard him say it, but I don't know how I could have, after all, there were hundreds of people cheering along side Michael at the same time. But I definitely saw him mouth the words, "Good luck Cho!"
Right in front of me.
The Ravenclaw seeker waved shyly back at the stands, tilting her head down as a blush crept onto a face that not even her long, flowing plaits of black hair could cover. Michael hadn't been waving at me. Not for a moment. He had been cheering for Cho Chang.
My smirk quickly turned into a thin crease of lips, as my brow sank lower than the Chamber of Secrets. I couldn't bloody believe it. First, she went out with Harry, merely to use him to vent her pent up feelings for an old dead boyfriend (Cedric was a good bloke too) at that. Then, she threw Harry away like a crumpled up piece of tissue, not even knowing how special he really is. And now, without a second thought to Harry–or me for that matter–she was jumping right into openly flirting with Michael. My boyfriend Michael.
Has she no shame whatsoever? Just because she has a pretty face, does she think that she can get whatever she wants?
Well, not today sister. Enough is enough. Today this sodding bitch is going down.
As Madam Hooch called for the game to begin, I swung by her, in an obvious nudge to let her know that I had seen everything.
"Oops, sorry about that. I'm so clumsy on this thing sometimes!" I said casually, trying not to clench my teeth in anger. And as we took our positions, I even tried to stare her down, but it was obvious that she was avoiding any sort of eye contact.
Oh Please, could you look guiltier?
The game began as I expected it to, with Roger Davies of Ravenclaw almost immediately making a goal. Ron failed miserably trying to block it. I flew in closer to give Ron some words of encouragement, when suddenly Bradley came from behind me towards Ron. He nearly took my head off as he flew at my brother in the attempt to make a feint.
Only this time, I noticed a strange gleam in Ron's eyes as he moved towards the goal to block the Ravenclaw. But this time he actually succeeded. I nearly fell off my broom in astonishment. Then, one after the other, Ron consistently blocked the Ravenclaw's attempts to make goals, no matter how difficult it seemed.
I couldn't, however, spend too much time in shock over the whole thing. I had a Snitch to catch.
I took a position above the pitch to have better view of everything that was going on during the game. I flew around for what seemed like ages, trying desperately to make out a slight gleam of gold on the pitch. He seemed to think that Cho would follow my lead when looking for the Snitch. In this Harry seemed to have given me bad advice.
Has the girl no shame? Honestly!
Cho was at it again; making "casual" passes near the stands where Michael was sitting. I nearly flew over to her, wanting to grab her by one of those long, black plaits of hair and fling her off her broom. The funny part was I wasn't entirely sure if it was out of jealously, or the irritation at her for not keeping focused on the game.
Not that I was doing much better. I continued to marvel at my brother's sudden bout of Keeping skills on the Quidditch pitch. Left. Right. Up. Down. Every time a Ravenclaw Chaser came near him, Ron would be there, blocking every shot they attempted. He was amazing.
If only Fred and George were here to see him. Oh, who am I kidding? They would still be making fun of him. No doubt about that at all. I wouldn't be surprised if they were the real reason that Ron had such stage fright before now.
I looked back towards the Ravenclaw goals. Cho was still flipping her hair and making mooneyes at the stands. I just couldn't believe that Michael could be swayed by the flip of that nitwit's hair.
Honestly! He obviously wasn't the bloke I thought he was. Ah, bollocks! To hell with the both of them! They deserve each other if they are going to act like this! Stupid gits. Wait a minute . . .
Is that the Snitch?
It was—fluttering only a meter below Cho Chang. Best of all, she was so busy flirting with Michael that she hadn't seen it yet.
Without hesitation, I hugged my Cleansweep as close to my body as possible and shot off towards the goal post. The Snitch moved up the post towards Cho, who still hadn't seen it. When she finally noticed me coming straight at her, her eyes widened in horror. Sitting stock still on her broom, she looked back to Michael in the stands as if he could provide some sort of answer. She thought I was coming after her!
As always, the Snitch seemed to sense me closing in, and changed directions, veering off to the left and back onto the field. It was too late for me to slow down before I made it to the pole. Cho sat there motionless, with her watery, frightened doe-eyes staring straight at me as if I were about to crash into her. The problem was, there was a very good chance that I might do just that.
Thinking fast, I slowed as much as I could, held out my left arm and crooked it, in an attempt to swing around the goal post. I made it around the goal post, but just barely. Luckily, I slowed just enough to not break my arm. I didn't gob up my arm like Harry is always doing. My arm was still bloody sore for several hours afterwards, but it was so worth it.
That's when I saw the Snitch, which had made its way right under Cho Chang's pert little upturned nose. I snatched it up and ended the game right there.
With my catch, and Ron's brilliant keeping, the crowd was now roaring a new rendition of "Weasley is Our King", which contained far better lyrics than the Slytherin version. I could hardly contain the pure joy for Ron's amazing turnaround in the match. The team hoisted him up on their shoulders and carried him off the field, himself yelling with happiness, the Quidditch Cup held tightly in his hands.
As I followed the mass of Gryffindors off the pitch, I looked back to the field, and saw Cho. Her face seethed with anger, as she flung her broomstick onto the ground and stormed off the pitch.
I smiled. That was for Michael, Chang. But the smile began to fade as I started to wonder if I hadn't lost that game already.
That evening the denizens of Gryffindor Tower thoroughly enjoyed our victory. Unfortunately, the night was a restless one for me. I couldn't help but think about Michael and Cho all night. The way he was looked at her made me ill, as if there was a great weight in the pit of my belly. It was plaguing me. I had to know once and for all, if Michael and I had anything left to salvage. I caught up to Michael the next morning on his way to the Great Hall for breakfast.
"Hey, Michael!" I shouted, waving him down.
"Wuh—oh, Ginny! Hello there. Er, Good game yesterday," he said, looking unsure of what to say. I decided not to play games with him.
"Where were you last night, Michael? Why didn't you come celebrate with me?"
"What do you mean, Gin?" Michael said rather uncomfortably as he ran his hand through his hair the way he always did when he was nervous.
"Don't play daft, Corner. Where did you go after the game?"
"Well," he said innocently. "I met up with Cho. She's going through a tough time right now. I was comforting her all evening."
I'll bet he was. "Comforting?"
"Of course. Ravenclaw did lose the match after all. She was all in a tither about that move of yours. It took an hour to finally calm her down. But honestly, she was still rather upset about Marietta. She actually believed that you were right about her betrayal of the D.A. and I spent the most of the evening convincing her it was simply a misunderstanding."
I can't tell you how difficult it was to keep from rolling my eyes just then"And then what?" I asked through gritted teeth.
"And then we talked."
"Talked? About what?"
"About Cedric . . . and Potter. You know, I don't think Harry appreciates Cho nearly as much as he should. She really is quite a girl," He hesitated. "Once you get to know her and all."
"Oh please," I said harshly. "I can't believe you're acting like this. I'm your bloody girlfriend! Don't you even care how I feel?"
Michael stared at me as though I were mad. "What on earth do you mean, Ginny?"
"Don't pretend that you don't know, Michael. Even from the field I could see the way you were looking at her."
Mustering up a blank look upon his face, Michael tried to play the innocent, hurt party. "Looking at who?"
But of course, I'd had enough already. With an incredible anger surging through my veins, I let him have it.
"Michael, you were waiving at Cho. I thought you were there to support me."
"Of course I was there to support you, Gin. But you were playing against my house. Aren't I allowed to cheer them on too?"
I placed my hands on my hips in my most intimidating look, and said in an even voice, "Don't give me that 'I'm supporting my team' rubbish. You weren't cheering Ravenclaw on–you were cheering her on."
"Ginny, what are you trying to say here? That I fancy Cho Chang?"
"Well, do you?"
"I'm seeing you Ginny. Cho is a friend. I've known her since my first year, and she's been going through an exceptionally rough time this year, no thanks to your friends Potter and Granger. Since Cedric died, she hasn't been able to get close to anyone except for Marietta. She needed someone to talk to."
"You know Michael, if I didn't know better, I'd say you fancy her and you are using this whole Marietta thing just to get close to her!"
"Ginny! Cho and I are friends, nothing else. She needed me to be there for her, and I was. I can't believe you're jealous!"
Jealous? Me? Of that dim witted little witch? That was it. I had had enough of all of this nonsense.
"Oh no, Michael Corner," I said as coolly as I could. "As far as I'm concerned you can have Cho Chang for all I care! Frankly, I think you two deserve each other."
I spun around and stormed off towards Gryffindor Tower. I was no longer in the mood for breakfast, and I swear I felt some dust get caught in my eye.
