Author's Note:

I do not own Harry Potter, or any of its characters.

I imagine this to be at the beginning of Ginny's fifth year, or Harry's sixth year, before the try-outs. And I just realized the other day that Colin and Ginny are in the same year! How strange- for me at least. RIP Colin Creevey.

Chapter 3

…you never, ever volunteer to help Colin Creevey learn Quidditch

It was the start of fifth year. And, as per usual, we had a ton of homework. Actually, more that usual, on account of OWLS and all. So, naturally, I was sitting in the common room, attempting to start the rather large pile in front of me. About five minutes through, Colin Creevey interrupted me. He didn't say anything, he just stood there.

I sighed and looked up. "What Colin?" I asked.

"Ginny, can you help me with something?" he asked earnestly. I nodded hesitantly, and he continued. "I heard that Harry's holding try-outs, for the house team, and I just thought that I would like to learn how to fly. And I was wondering if you could help me, because, you know, you were on the team last year, and you're bound to be on it again," he finished, and smiled at me hopefully.

I found myself looking at my pile of homework, and nodding. "Let's go find you a broom."

Ten minutes later, we were standing on the pitch, me with my broom and training robes, and Colin with a school broom, and Ron's overlarge training robes.

After I had explained the rules, we decided to try flying. He managed to get on his broom and into the air with ease, and we decided to try flying around a bit. He looked at me, and I nodded, and he tried to fly towards me.

What happened next, was totally unexpected, though I should have been anticipating it. He shot towards me, and everything went black.

I woke up in the hospital wing a few hours later, with a bloody nose and an awful headache, Colin lying in the bed next to me with his arm in a sling. I turned my head in the other direction, and Ron was sitting there.

"Hey Gin. How're you feeling?" he asked.

"Good. I think," I said.

"That's good. Pomfrey says that there's no lasting damage. You'll be out in a few," he jiggled his feet, and I noticed that there was a bag by his feet.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Well. I was…um…taking a walk, and I happened to see Colin fly towards you and knock you both of you off of your brooms. I ran on to the field, and managed to get both of you here."

"Taking a walk?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Erm…if I tell you, you have to promise not to tell Harry, okay?" Ron asked, his eyes searching mine. My stomach felt a strange tingle, and I nodded. "I've been practicing. Now that we're getting a new keeper, I thought that maybe I would try out…" he trailed off sheepishly.

"No Ron. That's brilliant. Not stupid at all," I said, replying to his unspoken sentiment.

"Ginny?" a voice asked from my right.

I turned over to see Colin watching me anxiously.

"I'm really happy you're okay, and I'm really sorry. I promise I won't try to fly ever again," Colin said.

"No problem Colin," I said, getting up and wincing slightly, as I took my bag and began to leave with Ron.

The lesson of the day is: In my house, you never, ever, volunteer to help Colin Creevey learn Quidditch.