One of A Kind

Chapter 6:Of Love and Quidditch

            Ten minutes later, Harry was in the common room, his face buried in his hands, as Ginny and Ron screamed at one another.

“How could you treat him like a criminal?!”

“How could he snog my little sister?!”

“Ron, come on, it’s really not that bad,” Hermione began, looking between the two of them nervously.

“Shut up, ‘Mione!” Ron shouted. Hermione sunk into her chair once again, her eyes welling up with tears. People were leaning over the staircase, settled into chairs, or inside the inner circle, all listening with great interest to the drama that was unfolding.

“Hey, Harry. It’s really not that bad. At least Bill wasn’t here,” Fred said, clapping Harry on the back.

“Yeah, or Charlie. You would have found yourself face to face with another Hungarian Horntail,” George quipped. Harry shot the both daggering looks, and they shut up immediately.

Harry’s head was throbbing a few moments later, blood pounding in his ears. The yelling had calmed a bit. Ginny had made her point well, but Ron was still furious.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”he demanded.

“Gee, maybe because we knew how you would react!”Ginny hissed through clenched teeth.

“What? That’s ridiculous, Gin. You had no idea how I would react.”

“No, Ron, what is ridiculous is the way you are reacting!”

 

There were many murmurs of agreement. Ron stammered, the tips of his ears turning beet red. Suddenly, an odd expression crossed his face. He looked around the room as if realizing for the first time that he and Ginny were not the only ones present. He saw Hermione, who was crying softly in a corner, and his face fell. He walked toward her slowly. She saw him coming and shot him an icy glare before storming up the stairs to her dormitory. Whispers immediately filled the crowd. Ron simply stood, frozen in his tracks, his face contorted in anger and pain. He grabbed his cloak and ran out of the common room. Harry sighed, and Ginny grabbed his hand. She shot the others looks of death, and they dispersed, returning to their spots.

“Gin, I didn’t mean for it to happen this way.”

“I know.”

~*~

            Avril felt her blood boil. Harry and Ginny were an item now. The whole of Gryffindor house knew it. Of course, she had suspected, but never allowed herself to believe it. She knew she was beautiful. She could have had any guy in school, if she had wanted. But she chose Harry. He should have been honored. He should have been worshiping the ground she walked on, sending her flowers, candy. He should have been grateful. But instead he had fallen for the little red headed runt. The one who had no special gifts, no rare talents, at least none that Avril knew of. Avril’s mind flashed back to that morning. Harry had been late to Divination. He had been with Ginny, of course. She knew that now. Suddenly, she remembered the card she had drawn. The card that had made her blood run cold. It was the reason she had avoided everyone. She had cast a spell on her bed to hide herself, so that no one could see or hear her. All because of one card. Not just any card. The card of death. She shuddered. What scared her most was that she had been thinking of Harry when she had drawn the card. What if that meant he was going to die? Let him, a cold, vicious voice whispered from the back of her head. Look at what he has done to you. He dumped you, rejected you. For a little girl!

 

“No!” she screamed, thankful that no one could hear her. “I will not let him die. It is not his fault.”

She drowned out the voice, but as she fell into a fitful sleep, she heard the sound of distant laughter, and it chilled her to the bone.

~*~

             The next morning, as soon as Harry woke up, a sense of dread filled him. Ron’s bed was empty, and Harry wondered if he had ever come back. Sighing, he pushed himself out of bed and stumbled down the stairs to the common room. Hermione was tucked away in a corner, reading her favorite book, Hogwarts: A History. He noticed that Ron wasn’t there, and guilt closed in over him. He walked over to Hermione.

“Have you seen Ron?” he asked gently. She nodded stiffly.

“He came in late last night, and I was waiting for him,” she began. She took a deep breath and continued, her voice unsteady.

“ He looked awful, Harry. His eyes were all red and swollen, like he had been crying for hours. He saw me, and he looked so sad. I couldn’t take it, so I ran out. I came back a few minutes later, and he was gone again. I thought he had gone to bed.”

Her voice was quiet, and she sounded as if she were about to cry again. She looked exactly as she had described Ron. Harry felt his heart drop. This was all his fault. Ron was missing, and it was his fault. He raked a hand through his messy black hair, as if the gesture could help. He sighed loudly, and saw Hermione looking at him sadly, her lip trembling. His voice caught in his throat as he started to apologize. Tears flowed down her cheeks, and Harry felt absolutely powerless to help her at all. Without a word, he ran back up to the dormitory, changed out of his pajamas, and raced to the Great Hall, trying to ignore Hermione’s crestfallen expression.

 

~*~

             Breakfast was tense and silent. Ginny was worried about Harry and Hermione, but even more so about Ron. She sat by Harry, her lonely hands folded in her lap, and didn’t eat a bite. No one noticed, and that saddened her even more. Normally, Hermione would have lectured her on the importance of a healthy breakfast. Now there was only cold, still silence. Ginny was miserable. She was very annoyed when the Gryffindors began to whisper excitedly. It was only when Hermione looked up quickly that she became interested. She glanced up, and felt immense relief when she saw Ron walking toward the table. Hermione looked torn between grinning and crying. Harry simply looked relieved. Ron slid in across from her, looking extremely uncomfortable.

“Er, sorry guys. I just had to think,” he said.

No one replied, but they all understood. Harry and Ginny exchanged glances, wondering whether his attitude on their relationship had changed at all. Ron shifted his weight, his eyes falling on Hermione.

“‘Mione, I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you,” he said, his voice thick with tears.

Hermione looked down at her lap, then back up at him, her eyes glistening. She whispered something that Harry couldn’t hear, and Ron looked as though he were about to cry again, when suddenly she threw her arms around his neck. Ginny smiled, Harry chuckled softly, and Ron blushed ten shades of red. Everyone around them was thinking the same thing. It’s about time.

~*~

            The day of their first Quidditch match, Ron, Harry, and the rest of the Gryffindor team left breakfast early. Harry did not mind, as he was not very hungry and had only eaten at Ginny’s insistence. Ron was looking very anxious indeed. His face was paper white, his freckles standing out in sharp contrast.

“Do you really think I’ll do okay?” he whispered, his voice frantic.

“For the last time, they wouldn’t have made you Keeper if you couldn’t do the job! Stop worrying.”

Ron smiled weakly, and Harry was glad that he had made a difference. They sat down by each other in the locker room as Angelina stood in front of them, her cheeks red.

“Uh, well, I know that I’m no Wood,” she began.

“Thank goodness,” Fred muttered. He was flushed with pride, his eyes on Angelina. Her blush deepened.

“But I’ve tried to be a good Captain. I know you will do your best out there. You always do,” she continued. Her face split into a wicked grin, her voice took on an edge.

“But I want you to knock Slytherin off their brooms! No holds barred. It’s not a foul until they call it,” she added. Fred beamed. Harry got the impression that he had helped her with that bit.

“And of course we want a nice clean game,” George quipped. They all laughed.

Angelina, Katie, and Alicia went to the other side of the room as they changed into their scarlet robes. Harry wrapped his hands tightly around his Firebolt. He thought suddenly of Sirius, wishing he was here to watch him play. Ron clapped him on the shoulder. He was grinning from ear to ear. They walked out to the pitch, and Harry’s thoughts focused on the game. The Snitch was released, fluttering around him for a split second before it became only a flash of gold in the distance. He glanced at Malfoy, who was scowling at him. Harry would certainly enjoy knocking him off his pedestal.

            The game began, Angelina immediately gaining control of the Quaffle. Harry heard Lee Jordan’s commentary, but his mind was only on the Snitch. He was vaguely aware that Gryffindor was in the lead. He was searching every inch of the sky for a flash of gold. He could hear shouts from the stands. He knew Ginny was there, cheering for him. The thought made him smile.

 He was torn away from his thoughts when the Snitch came into view. He felt the rush of adrenaline that always came when he was this close to catching the Snitch ,and winning the game. It was a few yards away, hovering as if waiting for him. He leaned forward, speeding up. He knew that Malfoy wasn’t far behind. His Firebolt accelerated smoothly. He was only inches from the Snitch when he felt his broom jerk. He glanced over to see Malfoy sneering back at him. He remembered Angelina’s words. He pushed back with all of his strength, and Malfoy lost his balance. Harry took the opportunity, stretching his arm out over the handle of his broom. The Snitch moved quickly, out of reach once again. Harry shifted his weight just slightly, opening his hand. He inched forward, stretched out his fingers. He felt the tiny wings beat against his fingers and closed his hand.

 A whistle blew, signaling the end of the game. He landed smoothly, the ground feeling foreign beneath him. Ron was beside him, and they were soon greeted by Ginny and Hermione.

 

“Oh, Ron, you played wonderfully!” Hermione exclaimed. She stretched out her arms as if to hug him, but quickly pulled back, a blush creeping up her neck. Ron’s ears went pink. Harry and Ginny exchanged glances.

“ Harry, you played well, too, of course,” Hermione stammered, her words running together.

Harry smiled to himself. “Thanks, ‘Mione.”

He turned his gaze to Ginny, who smiled warmly. She slid her hand into his, and he noticed that Ron’s smile suddenly seemed forced. Harry silently wondered if Ron would ever be used to the idea of him being with Ginny. He doubted it.

“So, Ron, did you enjoy your first match?” Ginny asked.

The tension faded from Ron’s face, his eyes becoming glassy. He nodded fervently.

“Those bloody Slytherins didn’t know what they were up against. Did you see that fantastic save I made?”

He continued to rant, and they all grinned at one another. Harry tightened his grip on Ginny’s hand. He gazed at her, realizing suddenly how lucky he was. Immediately, dark thoughts pushed their way in. Thoughts of losing her. He knew it was possible. No, it’s not. You can protect her, a voice inside of him assured him. He willed himself to believe it. He could protect Ginny. Or he would die trying.

~*~

            Avril tossed in her small bed, kicking the blankets away from her. She was muttering to herself. Hermione was the only girl who seemed to notice. She glanced over at her, thinking of what Ron had told her about Ginny’s night terrors. Avril’s behavior matched his descriptions exactly. She slid out of bed, slinking over to Avril’s side. Her concern grew as she noted that Avril’s face was pale, almost grey. She was drenched in cold sweat, but her head was hot to the touch. Her hair was matted together. Hermione pushed it back from her face. As she began to pull away, Avril’s hand grasped her wrist. Her grip was painful, her nails biting into Hermione’s flesh. Her eyes were open, but they were blank. Hermione was suddenly very afraid. She tried to pull her arm away, but Avril’s grip was too strong. Almost inhuman. She watched as Avril’s lips parted. They were cracked and covered with bits of dried blood. She wondered how she never noticed it before. But all thoughts were driven away as Avril began to laugh. Hermione stopped breathing. Her heart stopped beating. She felt a chill run down her spine. The laughter continued, seeming to echo into the night.

Voldemort’s laughter.