Chapter 8: Hogwarts

The rest of autumn passed by in a blur of activity, with days that stretched so long the weeks felt short in comparison. Only the occasional glimpse of children splashing in puddles or neighbors putting up holiday lights could remind Ginny that there were normal people enjoying the festivities that winter brought. Her days were consumed with Occlumency training, an intensive scrimmage schedule with her team, and not nearly enough sleep.

For once, Ginny was actually looking forward to the day another episode would strike, knowing there were answers dependent on it. Things were quiet on that front, to Ginny's dismay.

Julien kept her on her toes in their twice-weekly trainings, drilling her Occlumency skills and occasionally her duelling as well. Although her mind magic was improving considerably — she had held Julien off for a whole minute at some point — she couldn't help but notice that something had shifted between them.

As the outside temperature plummeted, Ginny found Julien too growing progressively colder, more distant. She thought there had been something hovering between them the night of the Harpies Gala, at least some flicker of feeling, of warmth. But Julien had never acknowledged it — in fact, it felt like every new meeting between them reverted them to closer to their first.

His description of Unspeakables kept returning to her mind. Cold and impenetrable. She had disputed that portrayal of him, but he'd seemed to draw it closer and closer like a shield. Tearing through Ginny's mind, ripping out her most personal memories — Julien could read Ginny from inside out, all while she found him withdrawing, shrouding himself in the same haze surrounding the Department of Mysteries.

But then there were moments where Ginny found herself puzzling after the man's contradictions. Moments when Julien's gaze would linger on her unwittingly, his eyes dark with some unspoken longing. When he checked Ginny for injuries after a fierce duel, scanning her head to toe with an anxious intensity. When he summoned a Headache Reliever for her before she even realized she needed one, fingers brushing like a murmur as he passed it to her.

The questions she had were too difficult to answer, in the days that started and ended with exhaustion. Ginny quelled the yearning in her heart with an iron fist, stopping herself from even wondering.

By the time mid-November rolled around, Ginny was ready for a break in her grueling routine. She asked Gwenog for a rest day when Hermione invited her to the first Gryffindor-Slytherin match of the school year. To her surprise, Gwenog agreed, provided that Ginny scout for promising young players at Hogwarts.

That was how Ginny ended up stationed between Hermione and Harry on a cold weekday, her burgundy-gold scarf wrapped snugly around her neck, barely able to fend off the chill. In a way, she appreciated the bitter wind, because it distracted her from a certain bespectacled man throughout the match.

She hadn't expected a reunion with Harry when Hermione invited her. In fact, Hermione hadn't mentioned anything of the sort and Ginny naively assumed he wasn't coming. Harry had also appeared surprised when he saw Ginny, shooting Hermione a confused glance.

Hermione herself seemed awfully oblivious to the predicament she had put them in, which meant one thing: she had set it up on purpose.

"Finley has fantastic aim," Hermione remarked, pointing at a small Gryffindor Chaser high-fiving his teammate. The boy had flown circles around all the other Chasers, scoring the last five goals. "He's only a third year, too."

"Were you forced to learn the rules of quidditch when you became Head of House?" Ginny asked, scoffing. "I never thought this day would come."

"Don't be silly, I always knew the rules," Hermione retorted, swatting Ginny's arm. "Harry, back me up. I've provided excellent direction to our team this year."

Harry hesitated as if he wanted to stay out of the conversation, until Hermione shot him a sharp look.

"Uh, yeah," he replied grudgingly. "Abrams was the right choice for captain. She's the one who trained Finley in the first place."

"Exactly," Hermione said cheerfully. "Ginny, let me know if you have any feedback for the team. Abrams does a good job, but they'd be delighted to hear from you."

Ginny nodded absentmindedly. She'd been watching the players whizz up and down the pitch, analyzing their movements without even intending to. It had become second nature sometime in the last two-and-a-half years of her time with the Harpies — she could already identify the strengths and weaknesses of the team and was idly running formations through her mind that would play toward their strengths. The Gryffindor team was stacked in talent but lacking in tight formations that could add defensive value. She was surprised Harry hadn't pointed this out to the team yet.

As if he was thinking the same thing, Harry suddenly cleared his throat. "I, uh, haven't really seen the team playing much this year."

"Why not?" Ginny asked.

"The season's just started and I've been pretty busy with other things."

"What other things? Surely you have time outside of teaching." Having a suspicion of what other things he had been working on, Ginny felt an urge to probe deeper.

"I've been doing some investigation. I'm still in contact with Robards, you know, so he's been helping me out, telling me what's going on," Harry said.

Aha. So he's still talking to the Aurors.

"What has he been telling you about?"

"You already know about some of it because you were involved," Harry replied, finally making eye contact with Ginny. He fumbled with a button on his sweater, rubbing his index finger over and around, over and around. Hermione looked blissfully unaware of the conversation going on beside her, pretending to have lost her hearing completely.

"What do you mean by that?"

Harry sighed. "Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. I know you've been looking into the same things. Ron. The guy who attacked you. He's dead. How? And why were you going to the Ministry in the first place?"

So Harry had an hunch, but no solid idea of Ginny's activities. She wasn't going to give him any more hints, lest he think it his place to involve himself.

"I told Robards. I'm seeing a contact in the Department of Mysteries. For a personal matter. He must have told you," Ginny said. A flash of confusion flitted across Harry's eyes.

"You're seeing an Unspeakable? For personal reasons?" Harry asked, shaking his head in bewilderment.

"Yes, I'm seeing an Unspeakable."

"What personal reasons?" And then Harry's eyebrows shot up. "You're… dating an Unspeakable?"

Ginny laughed at his bewildered expression. After all, Ginny had visited Harry at the Ministry all the time in his Auror trainee days. Of course she could leave it to him to draw the parallels.

Hermione seemed to have regained her auditory abilities and whirled around to face Ginny, her own scarf flying out from where it had been tucked neatly under her chin.

"You never told me that you were dating someone!" she exclaimed. "You only told me about the attack!"

"Did the attack have something to do with the Unspeakable?" Harry asked, eyes narrowed. "Are you sure you can trust this… person?"

Ginny prickled. "Yes, of course. I can vet the people in my life myself. And before you jump on me, Hermione, we're not dating. Or anything. He's just helping me out."

"Helping you out? What do you need help with? I bet this has something to do with Ron," Harry challenged, turning away from the game to face Ginny completely.

"It's a personal problem, like I said, Harry. I was referred by Healer Morrison."

"Your mind healer? Your… does this have to do with that sleep episode you had? Have you gotten more of those since?" Hermione jumped in. Damn her perceptiveness. She was studying Ginny intently, and Ginny knew couldn't keep lying to her even if she tried.

"Something like that," Ginny shrugged in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner. "I appreciate you both trying to help, but I need to deal with it alone."

"But if you're being targeted after going to the Department of Mysteries, this is something dangerous. It could even be the same people who killed Ron," Harry said. "I should go with you next time — I need to talk to Robards in person anyway before I go to the Defense conference and —"

"You're going to a conference?" Ginny cut in, trying desperately to shift the trajectory of the conversation. "And why do you need to talk to Robards?"

"I'm going in two weeks. There's an international Defense conference in Iceland and I need to ask Robards to do a session there," Harry said. He shook his head curtly. "But that's beside the point. I should come with you to the Ministry, especially if that's why you were attacked —"

"No, Harry," Ginny cut in. She knew he was just trying to help, but damn, she didn't need his savior complex taking over her life again. It was all too reminiscent of what he was like right after Ron's death — with the uncontrollable, all-consuming need to do, even if there was nothing he could do. "I don't need you coming with me. You either, Hermione. I will tell you both if I need your help, but right now, I have a plan."

"A plan for what? Ginny, if you're doing anything to find those people, I want to help. I need to help."

"I'm handling it on my own, okay? It'll make it more dangerous if you're involved. You know you're a target."

"No, Ginny, you don't understand," Harry cut in, letting out a ragged breath. He spoke quickly, as if he needed to get the words out before they would collapse in his lungs. "Ever since we moved… ever since we broke up, I've been worried that you've been involved in something that's dangerous and you won't tell me and I won't be able to help. And I don't… I won't be able to handle it if you also get hurt and I just stood by and watched you do it."

Ginny shut her eyes.

Same here.

The annoyance burning shallowly in her throat melted something more uncomfortable, more raw, and she had to force away the emotion that was threatening to spill out in tears.

It was clear that she still loved Harry and Harry still loved her. Just… not in the same way that they once had. But she couldn't let him stop her from pursuing the leads she had.

She needed to see this to completion, whatever that meant.

"I know, Harry," Ginny said slowly. "I know. Which is why I can't tell you any more, because involving you will not make it better. Just trust me, I can take care of myself."

"Just… promise me you're not actively putting yourself in danger," Harry said, his eyes wide and pleading.

"And if you are in danger, you'll tell us," Hermione added.

"I'm not putting myself in danger, I promise," Ginny said, a twinge of guilt tightening in her chest. "I'll come to you both for help if I need it."

Harry nodded. He looked like he wanted to say more, but after all the fights they had gotten into in the past, he seemed to know better. Ginny was as stubborn as he was — probably more so. If she was determined to do something on her own, she was going to do it on her own. Hermione seemed to recognize this too, and changed the subject before it could ruin their time together.

"So, what are we doing wrong here?" she asked, pointing back to the quidditch pitch. Slytherin was leading 110-80, and the snitch was nowhere to be seen. Ginny let out a breath, releasing a cloud of tension into the frigid sky.

"Have you ever heard of the Tamine Formation?" Ginny asked. Hermione and Harry both shook their heads. "Okay, the Beaters shouldn't be trailing the Chasers so closely. To make them more effective defensive players, they could follow the Tamine, which means they follow at a distance, on opposite sides…"

Back on her home pitch at Holyhead, Ginny clutched the Quaffle, racing toward the goal, zipping away from a pesky Bludger. Quidditch always managed to have such a grounding effect, Ginny thought, despite being an airborne sport. It was easy to stop thinking about Harry and Hermione and simply channel her restless energy into competitiveness, a primal instinct to collect as many points as possible.

Her braid whipped against her chin as she spun between tracking the Bludger and the goalposts and she pressed her torso deeper onto her broom, picking up speed. She took a quick vertical loop to throw off the Keeper before positioning the Quaffle in her hand and propelling it in, watching triumphantly as it swooped into the hoop.

"Yeah, Ginny!" Valmai cheered, flying over to fist-bump Ginny in midair. Lillian, the secondary Seeker, whooped and cheered before high-fiving Ginny.

"I see the snitch behind Galena," Ginny whispered to Lillian. "Do a feint if you see it."

Lillian whipped around, eyes tracking in all directions. She made a noise of affirmation and dove down sharply, catching the attention of the other team.

"Go, go, go!" Valmai shouted, and motioned to Ginny to pass over the Quaffle. Ginny hurled it to her, then shot off to the left, hoping it would draw the other team's eyes away from the Snitch. Valmai could score a goal with Lillian's distraction in place, which would in turn grant Lillian enough time to catch the Snitch — and this game would be theirs.

But before she could follow the results of their efforts, she felt a tingling of warmth in her elbows that skittered inwards toward her chest. She shook her arms out, trying to snap herself out of it, but the sensation only intensified, pooling into heat in her ribs that hummed with energy.

Oh.

Shite. Shite. Shite.

It was finally happening. Another episode. Of course it had to be in midair again.

Vaguely registering her limbs detaching from her broom, Ginny lost consciousness, the world turning black as she hurtled into the damp grass below.