The Seers' Truth: A Broken Beginning

Chapter 7

Flying Follies and Feathered Friends

Open flying seemed to be a free for all to Samara. The Quidditch pitch was crowded with a lot of people who were only marginally in control of their brooms. Samara recognized several of the first years from her flying lesson this morning. Of course, anyone could fly over the countryside, but if they fell off of their broom, no one would know where they were. The downside to flying within the Quidditch pitch was it was more likely that you would fall of your broom when you were crashed into by incompetent flyers.

After a few minutes, Samara took her broom to the ground. She was sweating profusely, not from the strain of flying, but because she was nervous. She watched Ron, Ginny and Harry fly expertly around each other and the crowd. There was no way Samara could do that. Ron swooped down and picked up an abandoned ball from the ground. Ginny flew a little behind him. Within moments, they were passing the ball quickly back and forth and weaving among the other fliers.

Harry, who was several yards above Ron, Ginny and most of the other flyers, did a sharp dive, turning his broom practically vertical and then braking quickly. His feet were just above the ground and the edges of his robe whipped forward coming to rest not more than an inch from her knee. Seeing Harry out of the corner of her eye and expecting one of the out of control first years, Samara flinched.

"Sorry," Harry said, "I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's ok," said Samara, "I just needed a break. There's too much traffic for me to feel comfortable."

"It's good practice for dodging Bludgers," said Harry.

"Bludgers?" asked Samara. Harry started to explain the fine points of Quidditch to Samara. She seemed to catch on pretty quickly, at least in theory.

"You could fly higher," suggested Harry, gesturing to one of the flyers circling high above the pitch. "Like Colin."

"No, I don't think so," said Samara. "I'm as high as I want to go right now."

"See Ron and Ginny? They are practicing passing the Quaffle. Want to try it?"

"And let go of the broom?" asked Samara incredulously. "Not today. I need to get my balance on this skinny little thing first."

Harry smiled. "We could go outside the Quidditch pitch. It's fun to see some of the grounds. We aren't allowed to fly over the Forbidden Forest though. We could fly up to the owlery. I have a letter I want to post, anyway. Then I'll have to get back for the Quidditch meeting after free flying."

"Fly up to the owlery?" questioned Samara. "What do the owls think of that?"

"I haven't asked them," Harry laughed. "Technically I don't think we're supposed to fly up there, but no one's told me not to yet and it's so many stairs. Really, it's the roof. The actual owlery is the shelter beneath it."

"Ok," Samara said, getting back on her broom. "Lead the way, but not too fast. This is a Comet 260 school broom, don't forget, not a Lightening-Bolt like yours."

"Firebolt," Harry corrected, and he kicked off with her right behind him.

When they got to the owlery, Samara had a moment of panic as a dozen owls took off around her, but it made room for her to land the broom.

"Watch your step," said Harry, remembering the mess of owl droppings on the roof. It wasn't as bad as in the actual owlery, though, and the breeze was blowing away the stink. He wondered why he had brought Samara here. She probably would hate it.

Hedwig was already flying to Harry's hand. He stroked her feathers for a few moments and talked to her, "Hi girl. I have a letter to send to Hagrid." Hedwig had already stuck out her leg when Samara came over to them.

"Oh, she is beautiful," said Samara, reaching up to touch her. Hedwig immediately hopped from Harry's hand to Samara's shoulder and began preening Samara's hair. "What is she doing?" Samara giggled.

"I think she likes you," said Harry. Why was it that Samara's giggling didn't grate on his nerves like most girls? Maybe it was because she didn't giggle constantly. He was still holding the letter to Hagrid.

He had told Hagrid about the attack on the Hogwarts Express and the Sorting Hat failing. He wished him luck with finding the giants and with Madam Maxim. He wondered when his friend would be coming back. He missed him.

Harry glanced over at Samara. She stood with her head bowed and was talking softly to Hedwig. Wisps of Samara's hair had come loose from its tie, and Hedwig was enjoying bits of cookies that Samara was feeding her. Occasionally, Hedwig would reach up and catch a bit of Samara's hair in her beak. Hedwig usually didn't take so well to strangers. Of course, the cookies could have something to do with Hedwig's attitude.

"Where did you get the cookies?" Harry asked as he came over beside Samara.

"Oh! Don't tell anyone, ok?" said Samara with a wry smile. "I've had them in my pocket since breakfast." She pulled out the inside of the pocket in her robe and shook the crumbs out.

Harry laughed. "Good thing you don't keep your wand in your pocket. It would be all sticky."

Hedwig attacked the cookies like she was starving. A few other owls crowded over to try to snatch a few crumbs. Samara tried in vain to get them to share. After a few minutes Hedwig hopped back to Samara's shoulder. Samara smoothed Hedwig's feathers. "I think she's the most beautiful bird I've ever seen."

"Thanks," said Harry. "She was a birthday gift from Hagrid. Come on Hedwig, time to go to work."

Hedwig hopped over to Harry and Harry tied the letter to her leg. After he released her, Hedwig flew a circle over their heads and then took off to deliver the letter. Once Hedwig left, the silence between Harry and Samara lengthened. She's the talkative one, thought Harry. Why doesn't she say something, but she just smiled at him. The long silence didn't seem to bother her. She looked out across the grounds, apparently deep in thought.

"Oh Harry!" said Samara. "What happened to that owl?" She was pointing to a large brown barn owl that was covered with some sort of sticky orange goo. He looked sick or--

Harry examined the bird closer. It tried to bite him. "He's been burned," said Harry. "That's a healing balm. He'll be alright."

"Poor thing," commented Samara. "I wish I had some more cookies."

"He'd probably like some meat better," said Harry.

She reached out to stroke him.

"Careful," warned Harry. "He might bite you."

But the bird didn't. It let her stroke his feathers gently although his sharp yellow eyes never seemed to relax.

"Let's go back down," said Harry after a few minutes. "I have a Quidditch meeting shortly."

"Ok," said Samara. "Thanks for showing me the owlery."

"Sure." Harry stepped to the edge of the roof, threw a leg over his broom and took off. The broom dropped a couple of feet causing Harry to disappear beneath the edge of the roof.

Samara gasped, and then shook off her fear as Harry made a circle and came back up where she could see him.

"Coming?" he called.

Not one to be outdone, Samara also mounted her broom from the edge of the roof instead of taking off from the middle of the floor where she would have been more comfortable. It took her a little longer than Harry to get her broom under control though, and she dropped several yards. Harry rocketed after her, as if he were a diving snitch, but just as he was about to grab her, she gained control of her broom and soared upwards.

"You're right, you know," she called over her shoulder.

"Right about what?"

"Flying could replace dancing as my new love."

===

When they returned to the Quidditch pitch, they found Ron was still doggedly trying to get just a little better at his flying. Harry knew he was determined to get on the starting line of the Quidditch team.

Ginny had given up flying and was happily snuggling in the stands with Edward. Harry didn't think a moment about heading down to Ron; instead he flew around the upraised stands.

"Hey Ginny," he called, "I thought you wanted to practice some Quidditch moves." He couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"Well, I was," Ginny replied just as shortly. "But my teacher disappeared."

Harry wheeled his broom and headed to the ground where the Quidditch team was starting to assemble. Why hadn't he thought of Ginny before he took off to the owlery with Samara? He was just trying to be nice to Samara and make her feel at home. She looked so uncomfortable with everyone zooming around her on broomsticks. He hadn't meant to make Ginny angry with him. He couldn't think about Ginny now. He needed to think about the plans for the next Quidditch season. He glanced up in the stands to see Ginny and Edward leaving together. He followed their flight line until they touched down, and, laughing together, they walked out of sight.

===

After the Quidditch meeting, Harry flew furiously around the field. He dove and turned and chased an imaginary snitch until Ron became dizzy. "Hey, Harry," he called at last. "It's almost time for supper. Let's go get washed."

Harry glided his broom to a stop in front of Ron. "Go ahead," he said, "I just want to try a few more moves. I'll be there shortly."

Ron shrugged. "Ok. Don't take too long, you'll miss supper."

Harry kicked off and zoomed back into the air. He began making wider and wider circles. Flying fast and free he relished the sensation of air on his skin, feeling the air in his lungs and his hair.

The clear air ten meters above the Quidditch pitch seemed to help him think. If he was worried about Ginny and Edward, he had to tell her. It wasn't like he didn't know her. He stayed had overnight at the burrow, for goodness sakes. They could talk. Couldn't they? He tried to remember when they had spoken half dozen words without Ron there with them. He couldn't. The question was: he really didn't know if he was worried about her or jealous. He always thought of Ginny as Ron's sister and yet, this year, she had grown into a very attractive young woman. Still, Samara was more his type. Ginny was way too shy. They'd sit and stare at each other and blush instead of talking. Not that he really wanted to just talk to Ginny... He thought about what it would be like to kiss her, but the thought couldn't quite get past the realization that she was Ron's little sister. Maybe Ron should protect her from him, he thought with a wry smile. Well, that really was the problem, wasn't it? If he explored these feelings for Ginny, and it didn't work out, what would happen to his and Ron's friendship? He just wasn't sure he was ready to risk that. He still hadn't come to a decision when he finally coasted lightly to the ground and headed for the Gryffindor common room to get ready for supper.

Edward and Ginny were sitting side by side doing homework at one of the tables in the Gryffindor common room. They certainly weren't alone, but no one was sitting next to them either. The others had afforded them the sort of wide berth that was usually given to couples in the common room. Parvati, Dean and Lavender were reading by the fireplace and Seamus was playing chess against Neville's little brother, Llywelyn. But it seemed like it was taking all of them together to give Lou a challenge. Parvati, Dean and Lavender were continually putting the books aside to give Seamus advice.

Harry frowned and headed for his room. Ron and Joe were also playing chess, but they were both so engrossed in the game that neither moved when Harry came in.

The sudden flash of a camera blinded him for a second.

"Colin!" yelled Ron jumping to his feet.

"Now I have proof," said Colin. "You have lost your queen." Colin sprinted out of the room, camera in hand, while Ron settled back down on his chair.

"He's such a little brat. I wish we still had separate dorms."

"I'm younger than he is," said Joe, frowning and trying to get his king out of danger by castling.

Harry looked over Ron's shoulder at the condition of the game. Joe had taken Ron's queen, but Ron had rallied and it looked like he could checkmate him in a few more moves even without the queen. Harry could never remember taking Ron's queen. Either Ron was distracted or Joe was a pretty good player.

Harry was going to go into the bathroom, but the door was locked. Instead he readied his books for a trip to the library after supper.

When he reached to open his trunk, he discovered it was unlocked. He knew he had locked it this morning before he went to class, but what about when he came back for the map for Defense class? With a knot of fear in his chest, he dug through it looking for the Marauder's Map. His heart was thumping wildly as he thought about Edward's curiosity about the map, and then he remembered he had not returned the Marauder's Map to its hiding place. It was still in his inner robe pocket. He breathed a sigh of relief, and, just for good measure, laid his hand on the liquidly material of the Invisibility Cloak, before returning the Marauder's Map to the trunk with the cloak, locking it both with a spell and his Muggle lock. His treasures were safe for now, but he must have left the trunk unlocked this morning in his rush to get to the library. He had done that often enough last year, but this year, with new students in his room, he resolved to be more careful.

Just then, Edward came out of the bathroom. "Are you ready to go down to supper?" he asked no one in particular. Neither Ron nor Joe answered him.

"In a minute," said Harry, going into the bathroom. He left the door cracked open so he could talk to Ron while getting washed before going down to supper. "Better hurry up with your game," he called out to Ron and Joe. "You'll miss supper."

When Harry was ready to go, Edward had already left the dorm. Ron and Joe were still battling the last few moves. Joe had anticipated the attack that Harry saw earlier and now had Ron's king on the run. Expertly, Ron moved his king into a strategic position across the board from his rook. Joe moved his queen quickly into its path. "Rook takes queen," said Ron.

Joe smacked his fist of the desk. "That was stupid," he said.

"Yes, it was," agreed Ron. "You're rushing. We should call it a draw, and go down to supper."

"I guess so," said Joe. "As long as I get a rematch."

"Of course," Ron agreed as the two of them began gathering up the chess pieces.

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