Harry fully regretted not paying enough attention to Ron's insane ideas as he struggled into his Quidditch robes at five o'clock the next morning. Ron had left to rouse the others, and Harry was once again seized by the suspicion that his captain was channeling Oliver Wood's spirit.
"Ready to go, Harry?" Ron asked as he walked in. "I've woken the rest of the team."
A great thump and loud snoring announced that someone was back asleep.
Harry, meanwhile, was trying to put his sock on his head. "Al… most…"
Ron sighed and showed Harry that socks went on your feet.
"I know!" Harry said, slightly irritated at Ron and his sock lecture. "You'd better go wake Sloper again. Oh, by the way, how'd you wake up Ginny, Kelly, and Parvati?"
Ron blushed as he walked out. "Ginny woke me. She heard me talking about it the common room last night."
Harry made a mental note to shoot Ginny later.
It was nearly six before all of the team was out and on the Quidditch field, brooms and all. Ron was beaming brightly at all of them, he being the only person over semi-conscious.
"Okay, well, I dunno if Harry got the word to you, but we're meeting here really early, as you can see," Ron said.
Harry held back an indignant look. It had been past midnight before he even found out--of course he'd had no chance to tell anyone! He hadn't even had time to talk Ron out of it! The rest of the team just looked dazedly at Ron, a look of pure unconcern on most of their faces.
"Today, before the match, anyway, I wanna make sure we've got everything down," Ron said. "Ginny, Kelly, Parvati, I want you guys--er, girls, 'scuse me--to practice the Porskoff Ploy, and make sure you can do it well. Ginny, you'll be taking the lead on that one, Kelly below, Parvati diversion. Also--"
Kelly started walking--gliding like an idiot, more like--around the team, giving them all madly insane looks, though none more so than Harry.
Kelly's eyes suddenly lit up in understanding. "Are we playing Quidditch?"
Harry cursed under his breath. "No, no, we were just--"
"Oh, I want to fly! I haven't flown on a broom since Damian the Donkey's time in Rome…." Voldemort hopped onto Kelly's Firebolt and sped up into the air, the wind slashing at Kelly's hair.
Harry jumped on his Firebolt and flew to Voldemort's height.
"Let her be!" he ordered.
"And what, I will ask, will you do if I refuse?"
Harry glared. "You don't want to know."
Voldemort put on a look of mock horrification. "Oh, no! I'm so scared! But you know… you're really the one who should be."
"Why?" Harry asked, almost daring him to try something.
"This," Voldemort said. He slid off the broom, and Harry just barely saw a dazed face.
Harry's breathing seemed to stop. He watched as if in slow motion, too terrified to move or think, as she fell toward the ground.
Then something ground back into gear: Save her!
Harry sped toward the ground, but an forbidden voice deep inside his head told him he'd be too late to get to her. Harry refused to believe it. He sped faster and faster until--
"Harry, LOOK OUT!" Ginny screamed.
CRASH! Harry made contact with the ground; his Firebolt sprang in half, and Harry was thrown mercilessly from its back.
"Harry, are you all right, mate? That was some fall. You messed up on the Wronski Feint big time. You're not supposed to crash, Malfoy is," Ron reprimanded.
Harry, now sure Ron was channeling Wood, ignored him. "How Kebby? Where ishe? An' wha' habbened?" Harry tried to say, sporting a bloody nose and lip.
"She's fine. C'mon, sit up and you'll see," Parvati said, helping Harry raise himself.
Harry looked at Kelly and his jaw dropped. Kelly was slowly floating downward, now about five feet from the ground. Her entire body was glowing green, just as her hand had been when it had been in the Kelpie's mouth, though then it had been gold. As she gently reached the ground, the glow surrounding her disappeared, though she remained quite motionless.
"Kebby!" Harry called, standing up, though his ribs hurt slightly, and pushing through the few people in his way as he rushed over to her.
"It's okay," someone said, kneeling down next to him. "She's fine."
Harry looked at May. "How d'o know?"
"That was me, making her go down slowly and all. Sorry about the nose, lip, and probably a lot else. Here." May said a spell and swished her wand and Harry felt completely restored. "Oh, and the Firebolt…." She flicked her wand in some special pattern Harry didn't pay attention to, and his Firebolt pieces flew up, arranged themselves how they should be, and connected, down to the very last split twig. It looked like it had that Christmas Day so many years ago.
"It helps when Cryst's boyfriend is in the broom-making business," May said.
"Thanks. But Kelly's not… I mean, she hasn't been… well…."
May put her hand to Kelly's neck. She grinned. "She's sleeping."
There was absolute silence for a few moments. Then, from behind them, Harry heard Kirke murmur, "Lucky git…"