The Knights Of Walpurgis

Chapter Nineteen: Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff

"What do you mean, you forgot about the match?" Ron hissed. He paused in the act of closing the curtains around his bed and glared at Harry from the other side of the dormitory. "Tell me you're joking."

Harry shrugged, and failed to meet Ron's eyes.

"Oh, marvellous. Harry, what exactly have you been doing for the last three weeks in practise?"

Harry blinked, and tried to remember.

"You've been there," Ron prompted. "You've done the drills. You've even been our best player. Do you mean to tell me that you've done all of that, and you don't remember any of it?"

Harry winced at Ron's tone, but couldn't deny it. He remembered being on his broom, and practising with the rest of the team, but not the details of what they'd been doing. Every training session was immediately followed by a lesson with Madam Marchbanks, who more often than not pushed Harry to his limits, meaning that he had to focus entirely on not being caught by her spells. It seemed that it was costing Harry the chance to absorb Ron's plans for the team.

He sighed, and nodded. From the other side of the room, he could hear Ron grinding his teeth.

"Right, tomorrow morning, first thing, we're going through the tactics for the match. You're getting hexed too much, mate. You shouldn't be forgetting Quidditch, no matter what the reason."

As Harry settled back into bed, he couldn't help a small smile playing across his lips. It was somehow comforting to know that Ron at least would not let his perspective on life be affected by Harry's impending confrontation with Voldemort.

*

"Right, this is the Polskoff Ploy, got it?"

Harry nodded, and stifled a yawn. It was amazing. When it came to Quidditch, Ron's idea of first thing in the morning was completely different to his usual stance on the topic. Harry hadn't checked his watch, but it was still completely dark outside, which meant that it was well before seven in the morning.

He watched as Ron prodded at the miniature players on the pitch and made them fly through a complicated series of manoeuvres. The Seeker conducted several daring dives, disrupting the yellow-clad opposition before launching into a Wronski Feint that left the opposing Seeker buried in pitch.

"Right, that's the start," Ron said. "If you can take out their Seeker, then we'll have no problems with the rest. They're not a bad team, really, but they're not in the same class as we are. They're probably the weakest team of the four this year and," he turned a sorrowful expression on Harry. "Their weak link is Susan."

Harry continued staring at the pitch, watching the miniature Gryffindor Beaters teeing up a Doppler Defence, and then looked up suddenly.

"What?"

"Susan Bones? Your girlfriend? Harry, she's not that good. I don't know why McMillan keeps picking her, but apparently she's been playing in all their practises. Their reserve Chaser's supposed to be good, and he's got a Nimbus 2001 as well, but McMillan seems determined to have Susan play."

"Oh."

"Do you think he still fancies her?"

Harry thought of the look on Ernie's face when he had caught Harry and Susan outside the Hufflepuff common room before Christmas.

"Maybe, a bit," Harry said. "But I reckon he's probably doing it to punish her. If they lose--"

"When."

"Right. Er, he can blame it on Susan."

"Idiot," Ron said. "It's Quidditch, not personal. Besides, he's the captain. He's responsible for the team."

And with that, he turned back to the miniature pitch and instructed Harry to watch closely as the scarlet players began a Hawkshead attack.

*

"Hi, Harry," Susan said, catching up with him as he left the Great Hall.

"Hi," he said, smiling at her.

"Big match tomorrow," she said. "You didn't forget again, did you?" she asked, smiling mischievously at him.

"No, I remembered this time," he assured her. "Ron's had us training hard. I think that we've got a good chance."

"Well, Ernie's been working us hard as well," Susan said. "I think that we have a good chance as well."

They smiled at each other. Harry felt relatively calm and rested. Marchbanks had revealed herself to be a big Quidditch fan, and had given Harry the night off from training on condition that he worked extra hard to catch up in subsequent sessions. Before she'd let him go, however, she'd made him realise that his anticipation of having an evening free had distracted him, and hexed him several times -- including a powerful Freezing Hex, which seemed to be her favourite, that left him feeling cold for nearly an hour afterwards -- before he was able to focus properly on their combat again.

"I don't teach, as you know, Potter," she said, peering down at him as he lay, breathing heavily, on the floor. "So this is advice, and not a lesson. Do with it what you want, although I feel that it may be pertinent to what Dumbledore tells me is circulating through the corridors as we speak. Don't listen to anything your opponent says. Someone you are fighting cannot be trusted, you see, and they will use their words like weapons, seeking to disarm you verbally if they cannot do so physically. Be wary, then, and do not let mere words affect you. Of course, if you can disarm your opponent, even use their weapon against them, you have them helpless, as in any field of armed combat."

Likewise, Neville and Hermione had banned Ron, Ginny and Harry from the library that evening, and were working with Luna on finding spells to help Harry defeat Voldemort, although so far the Restricted Section had yielded nothing more than a few hexes that might possibly have made Voldemort slow down for a few seconds. As enthusiastic as Harry had been at the idea of searching the forbidden volumes, on closer inspection it appeared that a large number of the books had been restricted only because of a single spell or curse that in modern times was well known to wizards everywhere. Hermione claimed to have hopes of finding really powerful magic somewhere in the Restricted Section, but Harry was beginning to wonder just how likely it was that such spells would be placed in a part of the school where a student of only moderate mischievous talent could gain access.

Still, Harry certainly didn't want to discourage his band of volunteer helpers, just in case there was something of use in the Restricted Section. Besides, Hermione had even told Harry that the chance to be away from an increasingly tense Ron was welcome, and Harry knew that Ron was using his unexpectedly free evening to go over the team's tactics again. Ron had taken it upon himself to give Harry an intense run through of the tactics that the team would be using, deeming Harry incapable of playing if he couldn't be bothered to remember how the team was going to play. Harry hadn't seen any point in arguing, and had meekly submitted to Ron's teaching.

"So, what are you doing this evening?" Susan asked.

"Oh, I don't know. I've been given the evening off," he said, carelessly.

"By who?" Susan asked.

Harry panicked for a second, before saying: "Hermione."

"She's given you the evening off?"

"Yeah. She's been trying to get me to let her arrange my timetable for years. I finally gave in," Harry said. He wondered why he didn't just tell Susan the truth - it wasn't as though he couldn't trust her. But he felt that enough people seemed to know his secrets now, and if too many people found out then the wrong person might overhear. He could trust Hermione and the Weasleys with his life, and Luna and Neville had fought alongside him the year before.

My parents died because they trusted Peter Pettigrew, Harry thought. I'm sure that I can trust Susan, but...

"Oh, well, you should be okay then," Susan said. "She always does really well, doesn't she?"

"Yeah, she's really smart," Harry said. "I probably should have let her do it a while ago, to be honest."

"Well, I'm glad that you have some time free," Susan said, leaning in and pressing her lips to his in a quick kiss that Harry was almost too surprised by to respond too.

"Potter, Bones, twenty points from both your houses for unacceptable conduct in the corridor!"

Harry opened his eyes to the distinctly unwelcome sight of Professor Snape standing beside Susan. The Potions Master gave Harry a triumphant glare before stalking off in the direction of the dungeons.

"Sorry," Susan said.

"It's alright," Harry said, irritably. "He's just a git."

"Yes, well--"

"I'll see you tomorrow, I guess," Harry said. "Do you, er, want to have breakfast together or something?"

"Oh," she said, surprised. "I would, but the team will want to eat together. Sorry."

"It's okay," Harry said. "Well, see you later."

"Yes," she said, before leaning in again. Harry backed away.

"Better not risk it," he said. She flushed bright red before nodding and hurrying away without a backward glance. Harry was left with the distinct feeling that he'd said exactly the wrong thing.

*

Harry made his way up to Gryffindor Tower in a sour mood. Opening the Fat Lady's portrait ('Victory Gryffindor') he smiled to see Ginny sitting by the fire, staring vacantly at the flickering flames while the traditional pre-match noise and excitement occurred around her. He'd barely seen her alone since Christmas and now, with a chance to spend a little time, he realised that he'd missed her company.

"Hello," Harry said, taking a seat opposite her.

"Oh, hi Harry," she replied, looking up after a second. "Not off with Susan?"

"No," he said, staring at the flames. "Actually, could you help me with something? Snape caught us downstairs and docked points, and then when Susan went to say goodbye I sort of pulled back. She didn't look very happy. Um, that wasn't a good thing, was it?"

He looked up to find Ginny staring at him with an incredulous look on her face, which quickly changed to anger. Harry cringed and waited for the explosion to come.

"Harry, as if I have nothing better to do than sort out your bloody love life?" she snapped. A few people nearby looked up at her loud proclamation. "Can't you sort it out for yourself? I mean, it's not difficult, Harry."

She stood up and shoved the books and parchment scattered around her into her bag. At the last second, Harry realised that the topmost piece, which she had been holding in her hand the whole time, was covered in Mrs. Weasley's curly writing.

Ginny stalked past him, huffing and banging her bag against any solid thing in the way, including Harry's knees and elbow. Pausing at the bottom of the stairs, she turned around and, in a voice that carried clear across the common room, declared: "And no, Harry, when a girl wants you to kiss her, it's never a good thing to just pull away!"

The door to the girls' dormitories slammed shut. With all eyes on him, Harry stood up and made his way silently toward the boys' dormitories. He passed Dean, Seamus and Colin on his way, and Dean gave him a sympathetic shrug of the shoulders. Harry almost stopped to talk to the three of them, but decided that he didn't want to risk offending anyone else. Smiling slightly in acknowledgement he made his way upstairs.

To Harry's surprise, Ron was lying in the gloom of the sixth year dormitory. The red-headed boy was staring out of the window at the full moon that hung heavily over Hogwarts.

"Wouldn't want to be Remus tonight," he said, as Harry came in.

"No," Harry said quietly. "Guess not?"

"You alright, Harry?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged. "I've just managed to upset Susan and Ginny. Thought I should come up here where I probably can't upset anyone," he said.

"You'll upset me if you're not focused on the match tomorrow," Ron said, grinning in the moonlight.

"Ron, is everything alright with you and Ginny?" Harry asked.

"'Course. Why?" Ron replied.

"Well, Ginny's seemed distant since Christmas, and you've been up and down all month."

Ron's smiled faded, and he sighed.

"I should have told you, I know, but you keep on putting more and more pressure on yourself," he said. He got up and walked over to his dressing table. Opening one of the drawers, he took out a letter that he passed to Harry. "It's from Dad."

Dear Ron and Ginny,

I'm afraid that we've had no response from Percy. We've tried the Floo, sending a letter and going to his flat. I don't see him very often around work nowadays, and when I do he ignores me. It doesn't seem as though he's likely to come to the Burrow for Christmas this year, so your mother and I think it best if you stay over the holidays. As it is, we'll be so busy with everything going on that it won't be much of a Christmas.

Take care of yourselves. Love,

Dad

"He still isn't talking?"

"Nothing. And now no-one's seen him in over a week," Ron said. "He's taken off on leave, apparently, but no-one knows where. Mum's worried sick in case he gets hurt, and she's been writing to us every day."

"Oh," Harry said, feeling now that he at least understood Ginny's bad temper.

"Anyway, I was just up here, wondering where that git of a brother of mine has got to," Ron said, yawning. "Bet he shows up in with a tattoo or something. He's always been way too wound up. He's probably bunked off to Fiji or somewhere to let loose for a bit. Sort of a Hogsmeade trip for people who earn the sort of money that he does."

"Yeah, maybe," Harry said. "Are we getting an early night, then?"

"Might as well. You can have first shower. I'll go and chase the others."

Harry showered and washed and was ready for bed by the time that Ron came back upstairs.

"Katie's off with her boyfriend," he said. "And I wasted a lot of time looking for Ginny before someone told me that she'd gone up to bed already. That must have been some row you had with her."

Harry shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "I think she was reading your mum's letters, and I caught her at a bad time. I was asking her about Susan, and she suggested that I stop relying on her for help. Then she yelled at me in front of everyone and went upstairs."

"Yeah, sounds like Ginny," Ron said, getting changed and heading into the bathroom. "Filthy temper, really."

*

The team had gathered in the changing room after breakfast. Harry had noticed that the Hufflepuff team had eaten breakfast together, but that they had been joined by Cho and Pansy, who had sat either side of Ernie. This seemed to kill conversation at the table, and the normally lively Hufflepuffs ate in near silence.

The Gryffindor team had been more spread out, but Kirke and Sloper had been bantering with Natalie McDonald and her friends, while Dennis had been chatting with Ginny and his brother Colin. Harry, Katie and Ron had sat with Hermione, discussing possible scoring permutations that would allow them to win the Quidditch Cup despite losing to Slytherin in their opening match.

Now the team was gathered together, and the muted sound of the crowd arriving at the stadium provided the backdrop for Ron's teamtalk as he paced up and down the length of the room.

"Right, we've been practising hard - some of us, anyway - and we're a lot better now than we were then. We know Hufflepuff's weak link. Susan Bones isn't up to the standard of the rest of the team. Katie, it's your job to take care of her. Ginny, Natalie, play your usual game, got it?"

The three girls nodded.

"Good. Jack, Andrew, you two only have two Chasers to worry about today. If Jones or Smith gets hold of the Quaffle, nail them, got it?"

The two friends nodded, and Kirke grinned.

"Good. Harry, still with us?"

Harry grinned, and nodded.

"Good. You know what you have to do. Summerby's flying on a Nimbus 2000. You know what that broom can do, and you know that Summerby isn't anywhere near as good a flyer as you are, so just stay alert and for Circe's sake lets not have any slip ups like last time, right?"

Harry nodded again, his smile replaced by a look of determination.

Ron stopped pacing and stood with his hands behind his back. His chest swelled as he took a deep breath.

"Go go Gryffindor, go go Gryffindor, go go Gryffindor, go go Gryffindor..."

The cacophony rose to almost-painful heights as the rest of the team took up the chant. Almost lost amidst the din was a bang on the door as Madam Hooch called the teams to the tunnel.

Harry trailed behind the others as the team walked out of the changing room. They lined up next to their opponents and exchanged handshakes and glances that were in some places friendly, some places competitive and in one place, as Ernie and Harry shook hands, a direct challenge. Ernie held on to Harry's hand for a long moment as their gazes met, and the two stared at each other long enough to attract a few looks from the others.

"Time to go," Ron said loudly, grabbing Harry's wrist. "Save it for the match, yeah?"

Harry and Ernie nodded. They released each other's hands and turned away. Madam Hooch threw open the doors to the pitch and the full roar of the crowd hit Harry like a wave.

Following the others out onto the pitch, Harry strained to hear the rowdy Gryffindors chanting for their team. The Slytherins, he was mildly surprised to see, were waving yellow flags in support of the Hufflepuff team. Normally they would have booed both teams equally. Harry supposed that Malfoy was responsible for their partisan support. He could see his blonde hair in the middle of the Slytherin section, pointing and shouting while others around him -- including Cho, he noticed with a frown -- nodded and spread out among the rest of the crowd. In the background, he could hear Pansy Parkinson declaring something over the microphone, but he had had enough of whatever Pansy wanted to say about him. With a small smile of satisfaction, he shut off Pansy's voice by raising the shields he had developed through his training with Dumbledore. With Pansy effectively blocked, his thoughts turned momentarily to Malfoy, and wished once again that he could replay their match. Malfoy had been an even greater annoyance than ever since the start of the year.

"Don't worry about him," Ron said, following Harry's gaze. "He's a worthless git, and he'll get what's coming to him, one day. Just focus on the match, right?"

"You're right," Harry said. He pushed Malfoy from his mind. "Okay, let's just play."

It wasn't quite as easy as Harry had hoped. Turning and craning his head up to see the Ravenclaw crowd, he was dismayed to find that a lot of them were waving yellow flags and banners as well. It didn't take a genius to realise why. Highly visible in the crowd of blue-clad students Cho, right at the front of the stand and enthusiastically be leading the Ravenclaws in their support of Hufflepuff. Harry was reminded of Pansy Parkinson the year before -- conducting the Slytherins in chorus after chorus of Weasley is our king. He shook his head and swung his leg over his Firebolt, kicking off and rising into the air. He was just level with the stands when he heard a piercing whistle, and someone yelling "Go, Harry!"

Turning, he grinned as he saw Su Li, Michael Corner and Terry Boot, Ravenclaw's Chasers and all loyal members of the HA, defiantly waving red flags and cheering him and the other Gryffindors. He waved to them - which made them cheer even louder - and turned to line up with the rest of the team.

"Good to see someone cheering us," Ginny commented, as she slid into place beside them. Ron had decreed that the two of them would use their Firebolts to accelerate into the heart of the Hufflepuff team at the start of the match and try and scatter the opposition team to give Gryffindor an early advantage. "Although Michael's probably only on our side because Cho's against us."

"Yeah," Harry said. "Sorry about last night," he added, after a long pause.

"Did you talk to Ron?"

Harry nodded.

"I worry about Percy," Ginny said. "He always looked after me when I was little. He protected me from the twins until I was big enough to do it myself."

"Do you think something might have happened to him?" Harry asked.

Ginny shrugged. "I hope not," she said. "Ron's probably right. He probably realised that he's been a prat all this time and decided to go away and sort everything out."

"Yeah," Harry said. "Sometimes people can get so caught up in what they're doing, they don't realise how much it hurts other people, or they don't care, which is worse. I'm sure Percy thought that he was doing the right thing, though. It must have hurt him, a lot, that his own family wouldn't side with him."

"I know," Ginny said, kicking idly at the air as Madam Hooch carried the trunk containing the Quidditch balls onto the pitch. "Everyone felt betrayed by it. I know that I was angry with him, but the longer he stays away, the more I just want to see him and tell him how sorry I am."

"You will," Harry said. "I know that I couldn't stay away from your family for long. Percy will come to his senses eventually."

Ginny smiled. "Thanks. I just hope that he hasn't--"

Ginny stopped talking as Madam Hooch tossed the Quaffle into the air. She and Harry barely exchanged a glance before leaning forward and shooting their Firebolts into the heart of the Hufflepuff formation, scattering their yellow-clad opponents and allowing Natalie McDonald to seize the Quaffle. Ten seconds and a rapid-fire exchange of passes between Katie and Natalie later, the Quaffle was fired past Justin Finch-Fletchley for the first score of the match.

The largely pro-Hufflepuff crowd was momentarily silenced, and Harry saw with some satisfaction that Ernie had a furious look on his face as he berated his Chasers. Katie and Natalie slapped their arm guards together in celebration of the first goal, while Justin retrieved the Quaffle and threw it back into play.

Ron's tactics worked wonderfully, with Natalie McDonald in particular playing exceptionally well. The youngest of the three Chasers, she also seemed to be by far the most fearless. Harry found himself wincing and holding his breath more than once as she threw herself in front of Bludgers and attempted almost-impossible moves as though they were commonplace. Although she occasionally failed in her elaborate moves, she was being cheered loudly by the pro-Gryffindor sections of the crowd, who appreciated her aggressive, exciting style of play.

Meanwhile, whenever Susan had the Quaffle, Katie would arrow in on her. Susan seemed nervous enough handling the red ball anyway, and having Katie streak towards her made her seem even more so. The Quaffle dropped from her hands over and over again, and Harry began to feel sorry for her. As he watched, the Quaffle was snatched in mid-air by Ginny who lobbed it forward to Natalie, who charged between the other two Hufflepuff Chasers and looped under Hannah Abbott, before releasing the ball at the perfect angle for Ginny to catch, barely even having to move her hands. Harry marvelled at the seemingly telepathic understanding between the two girls, and was impressed anew at how well Ron had trained the team. Jack Sloper drilled a speeding Bludger too close to Ernie for him to return it, and he was forced out of Ginny's way. With no defence to block her, it was an easy matter for her to fake a shot at Justin's left hoop. While the Keeper was stranded, she slotted the Quaffle neatly through the centre hoop, putting Gryffindor ahead by 60 points to 10.

As the Gryffindor Chasers celebrated, Harry saw Susan arguing with Zacharias Smith, one of the other Chasers on the Hufflepuff team. Susan seemed to have the worst of the argument, and looked very upset as Smith pulled away. He wondered why she hadn't resigned from the team, but noticed as the match went on that she seemed to be looking for him every time she fumbled. This in turn drove Ernie to greater and greater heights of distraction, and eventually he called a time-out and summoned the Hufflepuff team into a group, apparently just to tell her off for not concentrating on the match.

Harry wanted to tell Ron to change the team's tactics, but he wasn't the captain, and he couldn't ask Ron to take pity on an opposition player. If Ron had noticed Susan's distress - she appeared to be wiping at her eyes as the team broke up lined up for the restart - then he didn't say anything.

"Ron," Ginny said. "Let's change tactics."

"What?" Ron said. "Why?"

"Susan's done," Ginny said. "She doesn't need someone harassing her all the time, and it just means that Katie's not always available when we need her. Ron, we can set a record today, but we need three Chasers to do it."

Harry looked at Ginny in surprise, and almost missed the smile she seemed to send in his direction. Ron considered, and then gave approval for the change in tactics. Ginny soared up and away before Harry had the chance to thank her for her suggestion.

Distracted, Harry heard Pansy's commentary for the first time that match. He allowed himself a moment to be impressed that he had managed to stay focused for so long - a by-product of is training with Marchbanks, he supposed, as well as his Occlumency training - before he heard what Pansy was saying.

"And the teams line up for the restart. So far Potter's team-mates have taken advantage of Potter's girlfriend, much as he must do, I imagine. Anyway, she's appeared willing to throw the match in Gryffindor's favour, which I suppose is Gryffindor's only chance of victory as they do not possess players of the calibre of current favourites for this year's Quidditch Cup, Slytherin."

Harry gaped at the commentary box, struggling to believe that even Professor Snape, who was sitting beside Pansy, would allow her to say something so incredibly rude and spiteful about another student. He was tempted, once again, to hex Pansy the next time he saw her, but most of all he was tempted to fly up to the commentary box and give the Slytherin girl a piece of his mind.

Then, he felt a familiar presence at the very fringes of his mind. He recognised it immediately, and raised his gaze to see Madam Marchbanks, resplendent in red and yellow robes, sitting next to Professor Dumbledore. It was Dumbledore that he could feel in his mind - although the sensation was already fading, as though Dumbledore had merely wanted to get his attention. Harry looked at the two older people, and understood what they, without words, were telling him.

It was a test. Harry had come very close to losing control at the annoying but ultimately meaningless provocation of a fellow student. He had even allowed his Occlumency shields to lower enough that Dumbledore could have found sufficient purchase in his mind to perform a mental assault.

Somewhat chagrined, Harry turned away from the commentary box, realising as he did so that the match had already restarted. He had let his shields down, and forgotten Marchbanks advice to ignore the words of his opponent.

"And there's Potter, not paying attention to the match," Pansy crowed, her voice reaching all sides of the stadium. "And he should have learned from the last match not to let his attention wander, or a superior player will find it even easier to beat him than it would otherwise have been. Of course, I suppose with his girlfriend comfortably the worst player on the pitch, Potter has an excuse to be distracted."

"Miss Parkinson," Dumbledore's voice overrode Pansy's. "As enjoyable as some of the crowd no doubt find your attempts at character assassination, I will ask you to restrain yourself to commentating on the match and not the private lives of the players. In the meantime, you have lost your house one hundred points, and if you continue to show such an instinct for causing trouble, then I shall remove you from your position as commentator."

There was a small cheer at Dumbledore's words.

Harry smiled, and looked for Susan. The Hufflepuff girl had looked horrified at Pansy's insinuations, but now she was smiling and, to Harry's surprise, she whipped in behind Katie and snatched the Quaffle from her. It was the start of a move that saw the Quaffle bounce back and forth between the three Hufflepuff Chasers almost a dozen times before Zacharias Smith slotted it under Ron's diving form.

So began a period of dominance for Hufflepuff. While before they had been trailing by almost a hundred points, the well drilled Chasers were able to significantly narrow that lead. In the space of only a few minutes. Ernie and Hannah attacked the Bludgers with renewed vigour, and one shot in particular from Ernie sent one of the heavy iron balls into Andrew Kirke's broom, snapping the Gryffindor Beater's wrist and shattering the shaft of his broom. While he slowly returned to ground for treatment, Hufflepuff took advantage of their numerical superiority to score three more times as Ron was driven frantic. Eventually, he was forced to call for a time-out.

"This is crazy, what the blazes is going on here?" he demanded of his team.

"It's Bones," Kirke gritted. He was holding his wrist, and looked to be in considerable pain. "We're not marking her, and she's not dropping the ball, either."

"Okay," Ron agreed. "Katie, you mark her again."

"I'll do it," Ginny volunteered. "I think she's starting to get the hang of playing now and with my broom, if she gets past me, I can catch her up a lot quicker."

Ron didn't look happy about sacrificing the speed of a Firebolt to mark an opposition Chaser, but nodded.

"Alright," he said. "But if you get the Quaffle off her, then get moving, got it?"

"Got it," she replied, with an almost feral grin.

"Okay. Anyway, we still have a forty point lead, so it's not time to panic yet. Harry--"

"Yeah, I know," Harry said. "Catch the Snitch."

"Good. Listen, Summerby looks rubbish up there today, have you noticed?"

Harry had noticed. The opposition Seeker seemed to be out of sorts although, after the previous match, Harry wasn't taking it for granted.

"I'm going to fake him, and see what happens," Harry said. "He looks like he has a cold or something. I bet he won't realise I'm pulling a Wronski Feint on him until it's too late."

"Good," Ron grinned. "I'm looking forward to seeing you pull that in a proper match. Now, everyone know what they'd doing? Andrew, can you fly?"

"Yeah, but I'll be batting left-handed," Kirke said. "And my broom's wrecked."

"Here," Ron said unhesitatingly, offering him his Cleansweep. "It's not much, but you'll be mobile. Now look, I won't be able to do much on this," he said, gesturing with Kirke's fragile jumble of wood. "So it's up to you lot to win this match, got it?"

They nodded, and Ron waved to Madam Hooch, who blew her whistle to signal the resumption of play. Almost immediately, the Quaffle went to Ginny who bowled past Susan with little or no clearance. Susan looked shaken by the near miss, but pursued Ginny gamely until the Gryffindor Chaser had woven her Firebolt skilfully through the Hufflepuff defence and scored another goal.

From the restart, Hufflepuff were quick to take advantage of Kirke's limited ability. Attacking down the left flank, with Hannah and Ernie guarding Zacharias Smith, the Hufflepuff's were able to fake Ron into protecting his right hoop, leaving Megan Jones free to take Smith's cleverly disguised pass and score without challenge. Ron swooped down to grab the Quaffle and as he rose up, Harry realise that Summerby had closed in on him and was now hovering only a few feet away. Harry took a quick look at the other boy and decided that he'd been right - Summerby was very pale around the face, although his nose was pink from blowing. He looked unsteady on his broom, and Harry had the impression that he had a dose of 'flu.

For a second he felt bad about what he was about to do, but Summerby was an opponent, if not an enemy, and therefore Harry had the right to gain an advantage over him.

Feigning a gasp of surprise, he looked over Summberby's shoulder and pointed his Firebolt in that direction. Blasting forward, he nearly collided with the Hufflepuff boy, but succeeded in just brushing him. It was enough to make Summerby follow him, although Harry had to be careful not to go too fast, as he wanted Summerby close behind him.

Harry waited until Summerby was level before tipping the nose of his broom forward. Just as he began his dive, he saw that Susan had the Quaffle and was making ground towards the Gryffindor goal. Kirke swung tamely at a Bludger, but all he managed to achieve was to have his bat knocked from his hand. Harry just had time to see that Ginny was on a direct intercept course - indeed directly in Susan's path - before he was diving, and all his attention was on the ground.

The wind whipped at Harry's robes, and Harry could feel them billow around him. His hair was pulled back as he plummeted earthwards, and he could feel Summerby behind him. He had to time it just right, giving himself enough space to manoeuvre - the Firebolt, because of its straight-line speed, was a little worse than the Nimbus brooms for ninety degree turns - without giving Summerby enough time to react to the Feint.

As Harry dropped down, he heard Madam Hooch give several blasts on her whistle, and her voice cry out: "Cobbling! Excessive elbowing! Penalty shot to Gryffindor! Penalty shot to Hufflepuff!"

Before he had time to wonder who might have fouled whom, he was pulling up, feeling the Firebolt resist as he brought it parallel to the ground. He waited to hear the thump of Summerby hitting the ground, but was disappointed to see the Hufflepuff player above and in front of him. He'd obviously spotted the Feint, and pulled out before getting too low.

"Wronski Feint from Potter, well performed," Pansy sounded as though giving Harry praise was causing her physical pain. "But Summerby had him well scouted, as Potter's affection for that particular move is well known. And is that the Snitch?"

Harry had seen it just before Pansy had, and was already accelerating towards it. It had zipped across in front of him, but behind Summerby, and the Hufflepuff player lost precious seconds turning around and locating it as it soared upwards. Harry was right behind it, wringing every last ounce of magic from the Firebolt, exulting at the sheer speed that he was flying at. He was dimly aware that the penalty shots were being taken, but that didn't apply to Seekers - if the Snitch was in play then they didn't have to stop for the whistle.

Summerby was just too far behind. Even from a level start, the Firebolt would have given Harry the advantage, and as his fingers closed around the Snitch, he hung for a second in the air, fist raised aloft as the Gryffindor-supporting section of the crowd erupted in cheers.

"And Gryffindor win," Pansy confirmed, unenthusiastically. "Two hundred and ninety points to one hundred."

Harry dropped downward, and waved the Snitch in triumph as the team all came to a landing around him. Ron swept him up in a great, back-slapping embrace, cheering incoherently in his ear before the others grabbed his hand to shake and clap him on the shoulder. Harry was amazed to see that Ginny had a blossoming black eye but before he could say anything she grinned, and shrugged.

"Susan looks worse," she yelled, as their housemates spilled onto the pitch to celebrate with the team.

"What happened?"

"Cobbling," she replied. "I caught her on the nose. Blood everywhere." Ginny didn't look particularly upset by this.

"Right," Harry said. "Here," he said, passing her the Snitch. "I'd better go see her."

He began to push through the crowd, but before he got too far, Zacharias Smith came trotting up.

"Don't bother, Potter," he said. "She's not feeling in the mood to see anyone right now. Really angry with herself."

Harry's shoulders dropped.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Not impressed at losing to your other woman," Smith said with a smirk, before turning and heading back to his team-mates. Harry hesitated, wondering whether to follow after him, but then someone grabbed the back of his robes and pulled him back into the throng.

"You have to see this," Ginny said. Harry stumbled but was able to hold himself up. She grabbed his hand and pulled him back through the crowd. There, on the edge and almost un-noticed, were Ron and Hermione.

"Are they going to..." Harry tailed off.

"I think so. About time, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

Ginny smiled as Harry turned away before he saw more he wanted to. She watched for another second, and then turned away as well. "Oh, she's been waiting for ages for him to do that."

"Why didn't she do it?" Harry said, feeling as though Ron required defending. "I mean, it's not like it's the nineteenth century anymore. Girls can kiss boys, too."

"I know that," Ginny said. "But Hermione had to be sure. Did she ever talk to you about it?"

"Once," Harry said. "She wasn't very confident. Not like she usually is."

"Sometimes..." Ginny tailed off. "Sometimes a girl just likes to know that a boy really likes her, enough to make the first move. I mean, Ron and Hermione have been friends for ages, but they were too scared to go any further. Then Ron asked Hermione out, but he didn't kiss her. Everyone knew that he liked her, I think even Hermione knew it, but she didn't know it. She had to be sure, or she'd always wonder."

"And now she's sure?" Harry asked.

Ginny glanced back in Ron and Hermione's direction. Through the chaos of the partying Gryffindors, the two were just visible.

"I'd say so. Wouldn't you?"

Harry smiled. "Yeah, I guess so. About time, really."

He smiled at Ginny, who smiled back. Harry thought that she looked a little nervous.

"So, erm," she said. Harry watched her, trying to remember when he'd last seen her look flustered. He had become used to Ginny being cool and collected, regardless of the situation.

She looked down at the surface of the pitch, and Harry remembered when last he'd seen her like this.

It had been the disastrous night just before the Yule Ball, when Cho had turned him down, when Hermione had lost her temper with Ron and when Ginny, fresh from accepting Neville's invitation to the Ball, had laughed at him and Ron, embarrassing them both in front of Hermione.

And then Ron had suggested that she go to the Ball with Harry.

Ginny had looked flustered, unhappy and unsure then, just as she did now.

"Come on, you two," someone roared at the two of them. Ginny was pulled along by the crowd as they surged off in the direction of the school. Harry, jostled and pulled, stood immobile on the pitch, feeling highly confused.

Could it really be possible that Ginny still likes me, after all this time?

To be continued...