Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Harry paced the living room, waving his wand at the occasionally object to send it hurling across the room. Ginny would be Flooing over soon. He'd visited Gringotts to get money yesterday (giving his wand to a very bewildered Ernie Macmillan), and now had a full money sack stuffed into his robes. He would be getting a new owl soon. He would also be getting a new broom. But an owl? It somehow felt like he was betraying Hedwig. How dare he get a new owl? How dare he replace her? If he knew one thing, it was that he would not be getting a snowy. And it would help, he thought, to get a male. Might seem less intrusive on his memories of Hedwig.
And after all, he did need an owl, especially if he and Ginny would be dating while she was away at Hogwarts. He and Ginny were dating. Ginny wasn't just the girl he used to date and then had to break up with; she was his girlfriend. Finding comfort in these thoughts, Harry sat down on the couch, his eyes firmly upon the fireplace.
The orange flames flickered with emerald light, and then Ginny stepped out. She was wearing black robes meant for Hogwarts, and had her hair in a long braid down her back.
"Good morning," she said brightly.
"Good morning," Harry responded. "How are you?"
"I'm fine. I didn't forget my broom, don't worry," she added, pulling from her pocket a broom that had been shrunk. She put away before Harry got a chance to look at it closely, but it looked like a new broom. "How've you been?"
"Great."
"Read any more letters?"
"Yeah." Harry didn't offer any more information, and Ginny didn't pry. Harry decided this was one of the things he liked about her. "How's George?"
"Pretty good. He's started coming out of his room this morning."
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Harry and Ginny Apparated directly to Diagon Alley, landing in one of the golden hoops.
"Let's go," said Ginny. She took Harry's hand and they made their way through the crowd of busy shoppers.
Upon entering the emporium, they were greeted with loud squawking. It smelled of owl droppings and the rustle of wings was everywhere. Above all the squawking and chirping, however, was a very odd sound. A weak screeching noise filled Harry's ears, and it reminded him all too much of a crying baby. He immediately sought out the source of the noise, Ginny trailing behind him.
It was a young owl that had been making the noise. It hadn't fully molted yet, giving it the odd appearance of being half pygmy puff.
"I wouldn't take that one if I was you," said a gruff voice in Harry's ear. He nearly jumped with fright, but caught sight of Ginny, who was silently laughing and gave the old man a weak smile.
"Why not?" he asked.
"Just flew in three days ago. He's a spotted owl, not supposed to be over here. He'd've had to fly all the way from North America, and he's not much more than a chick. I'd say he's about a month old, maybe five weeks. Left wing got pretty mangled, it's a wonder he survived. If you do want him, I'd say wait a week. Needs to make a full recovery first. He can't even fly."
"I think I'd like to take him right now," said Harry, though a little unsure.
"Has to have an ointment rubbed on his wing every twelve hours."
"I can do that." Harry wasn't at all worried about having to take extra care of the owl. Hedwig had, after all, sustained injuries just as bad. Hedwig. Harry tried to push the feelings of betrayal back down. Hedwig wouldn't care if he got another owl, he told himself. Hedwig had only been annoyed by Pigwidgeon, had never disliked him outright.
"Are you sure you want him?"
"Yes," said Harry, forcing confidence into his voice.
"He'll grow to be about one and a half pounds, so you'll want this cage…" he rummaged through the shelves and pulled out a brass cage, significantly smaller than the one Harry had for Hedwig. "He still needs baby food, so this will do." He handed Harry a large bag of owl food. "No treats until he's three months old," he warned Harry.
The took the small owl out of its crate, stuck it in the cage, and handed it to Harry.
"Fifteen Galleons," the man said, now moving to the counter.
Harry handed over the gold while Ginny took the bag of food out of his hands, which were quite full with the cage. Lastly, the man tossed Harry a bottle of ointment.
Harry and Ginny exited the dimly lit shop, blinking through the sun. "What should I name him?" Harry mused, studying the owl's movements closely. It opened its beak in what might have been called a yawn and tucked its head under its uninjured wing. "What do you think, Ginny? Oh, wait, you'll probably try to name him Hippo."
"Maybe," said Ginny, with a laugh. "I didn't think of that one, though. What about Eri?"
As if on cue, the owl, presumably asleep, untucked his head and looked at Harry with large, unblinking eyes.
"He even recognizes it!" said Ginny excitedly.
Eri did seem like a nice name, Harry thought. "Yeah, I like that. Eri. Well, I'll go get a broom. If you want to wait on a bench, you don't have to come with me."
"I'll wait outside with Eri," Ginny agreed, and sat down on the bench nearest Quality Quidditch Supplies.
The store was truly magnificent in Harry's eyes. The walls were lined with brooms for sale, magically suspended in midair. The shelves were filled with cleaning kits, Quaffles, Keeper's gear, and books. Clothing racks held shirts advertising teams, some of them Harry had never heard of before. The brightest color by far was that of the Chudley Cannons. The other teams seemed to have chose less neon colors, and the bright orange stuck out like a sore thumb.
Harry wandered the shop, trying to decide if he should get a Firebolt. A Nimbus 2005 would be good enough. But then again, the price of the original Firebolt had gone down: the amount of time it had been out, as well as all the new variations and additions had taken down the price a hundred Galleons.
Eventually deciding to buy the original, he took the broom from its place on the wall and approached the counter. The woman at the checkstand raised her eyebrows, but did not confront him about his fame (for which he was grateful). He Summoned the Galleons from the bag and placed them on the counter. The woman took the money, and wrapped the broom in brown paper.
"Have a nice day," she said dully, as Harry turned and left the shop.
Ginny sprang off the bench, tucking the owl food under one arm and dangling Eri in his cage on her other. Harry shrunk the new broom like Ginny had hers, stuffed it into his pocket, and took the cage from her.
"Why don't we go take Eri back to Grimmauld Place and then go to the Quidditch Pitch?" he offered.
"Let's eat something at the Leaky Cauldron, too."
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After putting Eri in Harry's bedroom, he had Apparated them to Muggle London, near the entrance to the Ministry.
"Where is the Pitch?" Ginny asked him.
"Just over here." They walked past the Ministry entrance and turned a corner. Here, Harry led Ginny through a nearly empty parking lot and into what appeared to be an ice skating rink. Instead of continuing straight into the frigid room the rent ice skates, however, he took a sharp left through a door.
They were met with stairs leading downwards. The space was tight, and Harry and Ginny had to let go of one another's hands and walk single file, wands lit. The slope continued downward for what seemed like ages, then leveled into a hallway deep underground.
"It's so cold," Ginny whispered, shuddering.
"We're almost there," Harry told her. He had never been to the Pitch himself, but had heard about it. It was supposed to be the best public Pitch in the country.
At long last, they came out of the tunnel and into the locker rooms. Stepping onto the Pitch from there, they were greeted with bright sunlight, and a sky too high to be underground. Only two other people were at the Pitch: a man and child, who did not notice the new arrivals.
Harry found his broom and unshrunk it, bending down to unwrap it. Ginny unshrunk hers as well, giving Harry a chance to actually see what it was. The broom, evidently new, had a shiny handle of natural colored wood, upon which the word Firebolt was emblazoned.
"You have a Firebolt?" asked her.
Ginny nodded. "I've only flown it a few times. It's going to make Chasing so much easier."
Harry did not know what to say. How had Ginny managed to buy the broom? It must have taken her years of saving money. And Harry had been able to afford it with little preamble. But she had the broom now, and surely that's what mattered.
"Fly a few laps?" Ginny asked.
"Of course," said Harry, ready to mount his broom. "Always a great way to warm up."
"So… first thing every practise?"
"Every practise."
They mounted and began their flight, still unnoticed by the man and his child. Harry flew as high as he could; The freedom of flight felt amazing after the year without it. Harry slowed and gazed around the Pitch. He knew it was coming before it came, the flashes of light crept in from the corners of his vision, the yells echoed, quietly at first in his ears. And then the broom turned into the sidecar of a motorbike, and his trunk and an owl cage were crushing his knees, the yells became louder, hexes seemed to be flying everywhere.
Harry swept into a dive much steeper than one he would normally take, landing with a small crash. He heard Ginny land close to him, heard her footsteps approaching, but he was still half-stuck in the terrifying moment when a curse flew at him but missed, hitting Hedwig instead.
"Harry, are you okay?" Ginny asked, almost tentative.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Glad that's over with. Shouldn't happen again."
"Are you sure? We could just go back to Diagon Alley… get some ice cream, I dunno."
"No, no. We can keep flying. I still need to teach you those moves."
"And how to be captain."
"That too."
And so it was that they spend the better of their afternoon, flying around the Pitch, diving, laughing, and flirting.
When at last they left the Pitch, Ginny came over to Grimmauld Place for a proper cup of tea, and proper snog, after which she reluctantly left, saying that she would like another date soon. Harry, in response, suggested they go out to dinner on Friday. Ginny agreed wholeheartedly and left with smile, and what Harry could swear was a wink before disappearing once again into the flames.
It was an understatement to say that Harry was pleased with himself. As he rubbed the ointment on Eri's wings and fed him, he had a look of pure delight in his eyes, which had admittedly been a very scarce look for him to wear in the past years. He still bore the same smile as he ate his dinner, an hour later, and went to bed forgetting to read that day's letter, as he kept reliving the scenes with Ginny in his mind.
Thank you for reading! I tried to get all fancy with naming Eri (pronounced "airy"), and abbreviated a Latin term for rescued. The only letters I plan on including at this point is 17th birthday, 18th birthday, and 18th Christmas. What do you think of the narration in the last few paragraphs? I've used that style before, but not with this type of story, more with one-shots. I won't be able to post the 17-22, so I might post on Thursday or Friday to make up for that.
Gimme'SS, thank you for your review. Cassandra30, I agree. Especially Harry knowing the Severus and Lily had been friends. It would have changed his view of the professor a lot. Reviews are appreciated, and thank you for reading!