Chapter Nine: Meet
the Beaters
"Ain't he sweet?" whispered John. "Sleeping just like a baby."
"Very sweet," agreed Paul, just as quietly. "He's very clean, isn't he?"
"Very clean."
"Shall I wake him up? Or do you want the honours?"
"Let me do it. Wake up lad, come on!"
Harry clutched his pillow tighter to him and mumbled incoherently, oblivious to the two standing above him. John and Paul exchanged grins.
"Come on Potter! Wake up!"
"Mmm…what?" Harry, through the thick fog of sleep, managed to realise that someone was standing over him, nudging the mattress with his knee. He squinted, not able to see too much in the darkness, and especially without his glasses. Harry could barely make out a figure of a tall, burly, shaggy haired boy standing above him, wire-rimmed glasses glinting in the faint light from the window. "John? What're you doing in here?"
John grinned mischievously down at Harry. "Our beautiful captain sent us up here to wake your sorry bones, that's what. She's already let us sleep in a bit. It's half past six. Now come on!"
"Half past six?" Harry blinked. "Oh, ok…yeah…practice. I remember. I'll be down in a minute, let me get up."
"Actually, Harry," Paul whispered, "We're supposed to—"
"—just wake you up," interrupted John.
"Ok…" yawned Harry. "I'll be down…" And Harry snuggled back under the covers and went back to sleep, ignoring the slight sniggering from above him.
"Hey John, you know Ginny said to make sure that Harry and Ron both woke up…we were supposed to stay until we saw them actually get out of bed," whispered Paul as the two Beaters exited the dormitory.
"Tee hee!" giggled John. "What's the fun in that? Besides, she'll get him up, much better than we could."
****
"YOU HAVE EXACTLY THREE MINUTES TO GET YOUR ARSES DOWN ON THE PITCH!!!!"
The furious screech snatched Harry from the sound sleep he'd managed to fall back into. He looked up just in time to see Ginny rip the bed curtains back so forcefully that the curtain rod threatened to snap in two. Ginny glared down at him, brown eyes bright with malice, her hair flying wildly around her face as though it was angry at him too. Harry heard muffled noises from the rest of the room's occupants as they were awakened by the booming voice.
"Huh?" Harry asked tentatively. "Pitch?" These were probably not the right questions to ask, Harry thought, as Ginny only got angrier.
"Yes, Harry," she said in a deceivingly quiet tone. "The pitch. As in Quidditch pitch. As in the sport. AS IN THE FACT THAT WE PLAY SLYTHERIN IN TWO WEEKS AND STILL AREN'T IN TOP FORM! NOW GET UP!"
Harry winced as he realised why he was being awakened in such an ungodly fashion. It had been like this for over a month. Ginny had insisted on practicing every day, sometimes even twice a day. And when they weren't practicing on the pitch, she was in her little nook in the common room, planning new moves, surrounded by little diagrams of the players and prodding them with her wand. She was slowly becoming a woman possessed, and Harry was tired of it. Tired of the five am wake up calls to practice, tired of the long sessions of flying, tired of not being able to talk to Ginny about anything other than Quidditch plays. He missed the old Ginny Weasley. This new one…well…it was like having Oliver Wood as a girlfriend. It was worse than having Oliver Wood as a girlfriend.
He fumbled around on the bedside table for his glasses and put them on, staring into the furious face of his Quidditch captain. "I thought you said we could sleep in a bit this morning, Gin," he yawned, stretching as he threw back the covers. Cold air hit his bare legs, and he shivered slightly, forgetting the fact that he slept clad only in underwear. He looked up, hoping Ginny would notice, hoping he'd see her blush like she used to, like when she saw him in the towel. He couldn't help but grin slightly at the memory of that day.
Brown eyes narrowed, hands on her hips, Ginny stared down at him, reminding him of Professor McGonagall. "I did. And you did. It's nearly a quarter to seven, and we've been waiting for FIFTEEN MINUTES! Now come on!" Harry kept his face passive, trying to pretend that he couldn't see Ron—who was standing behind her—making very rude gestures at his sister.
"Hey! There's a girl in here!" cried Dean Thomas, who was extremely slow to wake up, and just had noticed Ginny's presence. "You're not supposed to be in here, Ginny. This is a boy's dormitory."
"Oh, please!" retorted Ginny, whirling around to face Dean. "Like you have anything in here to see," she replied scathingly, looking Dean up and down. She whirled back around to face Harry and Ron, both trying to hide their sniggers behind their hands and not succeeding. "You two—be down in two minutes!"
Harry, still trying to contain his amusement, watched her storm out, hair flying madly around her. He heaved a great sigh when he saw her walk through the doorway, which quickly turned into a sputter as she twirled around, her brow furrowing as though she was confused about something.
"Why on earth are you wearing tartan boxer shorts? You aren't Scottish."
Harry's jaw dropped as her words penetrated.
God, she is so magnificent when she's angry.
Yes, she is. Thank God she didn't notice how awake we were. Talk about getting up in the morning.
I'm just thankful that
Oliver Wood never had this effect on us.
****
The sun was bright for this fall morning, and Harry had to reinforce his Ray Ban charm several times already. The air was crisp, the breeze was light, and Harry was able to wake up pretty quickly after getting up in the air. He wasn't the fastest Seeker Hogwarts had seen in a hundred years for nothing. Ginny had cast both him and Ron furious looks for delaying practice, but didn't say anything more to them about that. That was one of the thing's Harry loved about her--while she had the infamous Weasley temper, her tantrums were short lived. So Harry, thankful that he wouldn't have to do any serious apologising to talk Ginny out of being annoyed at him, was in a cheerful mood.
"Need to keep your head down a bit, Howard," Harry advised, watching the reserve Seeker. "You're making it too easy for a Bludger to knock your head off." Harry tried not to laugh at the expression of complete horror on Howard's face, which suddenly went very pale. True to his word, Harry had been working with Howard at practice, making Howard shadow him. Howard was a pretty good flier, but had no self confidence, reminding Harry of Neville Longbottom in their earlier years at Hogwarts.
"Have you ever been hit by one?" Howard asked Harry.
"Once or twice," Harry lied, not wanting to scare the poor boy away.
"But Seekers are supposed to be the ones that get hurt most," Howard said, his voice rising in panic. "I read that in Quidditch Through the Ages."
Silently damning Kennilworthy Whisp, Harry immediately changed the subject. "Yes, well…you handle this broom pretty well, but you've got to learn something about Comet Five-Hundreds: they become a bit unsteady in a steep glide. Follow me and I'll show you what I'm talking about." Howard nodded eagerly, and Harry took off, weaving through the rest of the players in a steep glide towards the opposite goal post. Howard followed, and although his broom was no match in speed for Harry's Firebolt, Howard wasn't far behind him.
"Now pull up!" shouted Harry, sharply pulling out of the dive with ease. He turned around to watch Howard, noting how the Comet started to shake a bit. "See what I mean?" he asked when Howard was once again, floating beside him. "You've got to learn how to compensate for that. When it starts to shake, lean forward more, which should help distribute the weight better. You can't catch the Snitch if you're trying hold onto your broom for dear life, understand?" Howard nodded, hanging on Harry's every word. "Good then. Why don't you practice that a bit, ok?" And Howard began to practice diving down and pulling up rapidly, like Harry had showed him, adjusting his weight as he did so which kept his broom much steadier.
Harry watched his protégé for a bit longer, noting with pride that Howard had enough potential to become another great Seeker. Well, not as good as he was, Harry thought with a slight smile, but pretty decent nonetheless.
When Harry grew tired of monitoring Howard's progress, he turned his gaze over to the other side of the pitch, where Ginny was in the middle of dodging both Bludgers, rolling over so that she was flying upside down, and neatly passed the Quaffle to Sue, who attempted to score. Ron, however, wasn't having any of that, and lunged for the ball, catching it just before it went through the goal. Sue cursed violently, Ginny laughed, and Ron merely stuck out his tongue. Harry chuckled wryly, watching as Ginny and Sue stopped long enough to discuss the play. Harry's hawk-like gaze couldn't help but notice how Sue tried to stifle a yawn behind her hand, while Dennis circled lazily around them, as though he were trying to stay awake. John and Paul, holding the practice Bludgers that didn't move unless told to, were now leaning up against a goal posts, and even from Harry's distance, he could see their eyelids drooping. It was time to say something, Harry thought, just before he sped over to Ginny.
"So you have to keep the Keeper far enough away from the—"
"Gin? Can I talk to you for a sec?"
Ginny smiled her old Ginny smile, just before her eyes darted from Harry to Howard, still practicing his dives. "Is something wrong? How's Howard doing?"
"He's fine. Can you come over here for a sec though?"
"Sure. Let's all take a break." At Ginny's words, everyone seemed to perk up a bit, and immediately sank down until they were on the grass. Harry led Ginny over to the equipment shed, grimacing slightly as he saw—for the first time—how tired she appeared. Dark circles were under her eyes; their rich brown colour now seemed dull.
"Ginny," he began, "You've got to give us a break. Look at them!" He cupped her chin and turned it towards the team, who were now lolling around on the grass. "Look at yourself! We're all dead tired; you've got to let us all rest a bit or we won't be worth a damn against the Slytherins."
Ginny pursed her lips, regarding him through narrowed eyes. "We'll be fine! And if everyone would go to bed at a decent hour like I said—"
"That's not it! Ginny, you've got us at it twice a day, and we've been all good sports about it. We want this cup as bad as you do, but you've got to give us a chance to rest. Running us into the bloody ground isn't helping."
Ginny straightened her shoulders, "I---I---" she began hotly, and then swallowed, taking a deep breath. She glanced over at the team, biting her lip as she often did when she was in deep thought. "Maybe you're right," she conceded at last. "We all could use a bre— What's that?"
Harry whirled around just in time to see a bright flash of light appear from behind a tree near the pitch. They both started towards the direction, when a small figure darted from the hiding place and headed towards the castle.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
"Expelliarmus!"
The figure froze, having been hit with the full body bind curse first and toppled face down on the ground, sending up a small torrent of leaves and branches. An object flew from his hands, and landed with a bounce. Both exchanged startled glances, then took off at a dead run.
Harry reached the figure first. Ginny wasn't too far behind him, and the thundering footsteps behind hers told Harry that the rest of the team had caught on.
"What's happened?"
"Who is that?"
Ron looked over at Harry. "There's only one way to find out." And Ron roughly kicked over the body, revealing…
"Who the hell is that?"
Harry looked down into a brown haired pug faced boy, his spotty skin now covered in dirt and leaves, with bits of branches sticking out from his hair. His eyes were very narrow, and very mean looking. He looked slightly familiar, although Harry was sure they'd never met. Whomever it was, Harry was sure he was in Slytherin, that much was obvious, just relying on his looks alone. And no other house would dare spy on them. He turned to offer this theory to Ginny, but stopped when he spotted the highly amused look she was now giving him.
"What?" he asked, puzzled at this reaction, especially when Ron was giving him the same look. "What is it?" At his words, the siblings both burst into laughter.
"You sure like using Expelliarmus, don't you?" gasped Ginny. "What is it with you and that spell, anyway?"
Harry frowned. "Well, that's got me out of some serious jams before, I'll tell you," he said, feeling rather stupid all of a sudden. He did seem to use the disarming spell quite a bit, but really…he'd had good reason. And even though it was quite plain that the object the boy had was a camera, Harry hadn't known it at the time.
"Ok, knock it off you two," Harry gritted out through clenched teeth, as the rest of the team joined in the laughter.
"Who is he?" asked Ginny, quieting down a bit. "Anyone know him?"
"That's Millicent Bullstrode's younger brother, Bernard," said Howard. "He's a fifth year."
"Oh yeah," said Ron, smirking down at the boy. "I recognise that wretched pug nose now. What shall we do? Besides me taking about fifty points from Slytherin, I mean," he added with a sly grin.
"Finite Incantem," said Ginny, and Harry watched Bernard unfreeze immediately. Bernard cast Ginny a furious glare.
"And now that Harry--" Ginny chuckled--"has…erm…disarmed you, want to explain yourself?"
"Not really," mumbled Bernard. "I was just taking pictures, no harm done."
"Pull the other one, Bernard. Big sister sent you to spy on us, didn't she?" Ron asked, fingering his wand as though in hopes that Bernard would give him an excuse to use it.
"I'm not saying a word, and you know if you try anything Weasley, I'll make sure you lose that shiny prefect badge like Potter here did," spat Bernard. Harry, at the reminder of that incident, immediately pulled out his own wand.
"Ok Bernard," Ginny sighed, "We'll play it your way." Harry watched as Ginny suddenly dropped down on her knees next to the boy, leaned close to him, and whispered something that Harry couldn't hear. Whatever it was, however, made Bernard's entire face turn a bright pink and Harry, in amusement, watched the boy's narrow eyes go round in horror. He leaned closer in, to see if he could pick up a word or two.
"Now you be sure and tell Draco I said exactly that, ok?" Ginny finished, dusting off her Quidditch robes as she rose. Bernard's jaw dropped, then he quickly shut it. He started up at her for a moment, surprise still evident in his eyes, then jumped up and quickly darted off.
"And that's fifty points from Slytherin!" called Ron, causing everyone to chuckle.
"What did you say?" Harry demanded, turning to Ginny.
Ginny, still occupied with brushing every blade of grass from her robes, didn't look up as she casually replied, "Oh, nothing much. Just told him to give Draco a message from me that's all." Finally finished with her task, she met his gaze, and Harry noted the slight flush to her cheeks. " I think we've all had enough practice for today, what do you think?" Everyone nodded eagerly, and Harry had to laugh when John and Paul started skipping back to the locker rooms, while Sue, Dennis, and Howard ran as fast as they could back to the castle. Ron and Harry exchanged grins.
"I'm going to go see what sort of trouble the Head Girl has got into," Ron said, smiling devilishly. "A prefect's life is never through," he sighed dramatically, just before dashing off as well, leaving Harry and Ginny alone.
Harry immediately gathered her in his arms and did the one thing he'd been dying to do all day.
"Mmmm….that's nice," Ginny whispered just after she'd managed to catch her breath. Harry drew her even closer, kissing the tip of her nose, loving the feel of her against him.
"I missed you."
"Missed me?"
"Yeah." Harry kissed the slight frown from her lips. "I've hardly seen you a t'all this past month except when you're in the air."
Ginny drew back, biting her lip. "Well, we've got to practice Harry!" she said quickly as though in defense. "I'd thought you of all people would understand—"
"I know, I know, Gin. But we're miles ahead of the competition, you know that."
"No, we aren't!" she cried, wringing her hands. "Haven't you heard John and Paul talk about the new Beater that Hufflepuff has? His name is Richard Starkey and he replaced Stuart Sutterfield, who had to leave because of an injury. And Peter said that the other one, George Perkins is really fast for a Beater. Ernie McMillian has really outdone himself with the team, they've got a tight offence—"
Harry, trying his best to ignore the mention of Peter, silenced her words with a finger. "Can you do me one favour? Just one?"
Ginny nodded.
"It's now—" he looked at his watch—"noon. Can you just not mention Quidditch or anything that has to do with the sport for the rest of the day? Just until midnight tonight. Could you do that for me? Please?"
Harry stared down into her dark eyes, which perfectly showed the inward struggle she was going through. It hurt, it really did, to see that Ginny was weighing Quidditch—the sport that was such a deep part of his own life—against himself.
At last she nodded, and relief washed over him, overriding any irritation that he had felt. Then she suddenly smiled, the one that never failed to make Harry's heart skip a beat.
"Come on, let's get out of here."
A/N: Ok, I've stopped counting the number of Beatles references that got in this chapter. See if you can spot them all. I'll figure them all out and post them at the end of the next chapter and on the QoHG list—there's also a cookie up for this story there, if you are interested. Thanks for reading. : )