The Temple of Le Fay

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw

The one aspect of Harry Potter's life that hadn't changed in the preceding six months was his love of Quidditch. He sat in the dressing room beneath the stands of the Hogwarts stadium, his mind already on the pitch even as Ron gave his team talk. Harry listened with half an ear, for he knew his job well enough. Catch the Snitch to win the match. It wasn't that hard. Last minute, inspirational words were for the Chasers and Beaters, and even the Keeper. Harry was sure that his old captain, Oliver Wood, had used the opportunity to inspire himself when he was feeling nervous before a match.

He could hear the Ravenclaw team warming up outside the dressing room. Cho would be pacing nervously, he was sure. It was her last match before she left. She'd want to win, to take the Quidditch Cup outright. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw had tied for the Cup the year before, just before he and Ginny had -

Harry shook his head, trying to dispel the memories of that night. Bad enough that everyone else seemed intent on reminding him that he used to have a life other than as The Boy Who Didn't Have A Life To Live, he couldn't let himself succumb to temptation to give in and go back to that life.

Suddenly, everyone was standing up, and Harry got to his feet too. Was Ron finished? It seemed not. The team was stood in a circle, joining hands in the centre, and Ron shot Harry a particularly fierce look. Reluctantly, Harry stepped forward and laid his hand on the top of the others. He felt foolish, reminded forcibly of a scene in one of the interminable American sports movies that Dudley watched late at night on the widescreen TV in his room in the hope that one of the actresses would take her top off.

With a jolt, he realised that it would only be a few more weeks before he returned to Privet Drive for the first time in nearly two years.

With another jolt, he realised that the hand which his hand was on top of was Ginny's, and she didn't look happy about it. She was scowling at Dean, who was looking anywhere but at her. Harry scowled at him too, but neither he nor Ginny made any attempt to pull their hand away.

The second jolt of realisation had made the worry of returning to Privet Drive disappear entirely from Harry's mind. He felt a great warmth flow through him, and his attempt to ignore the feeling by focusing on Dean wasn't working. He looked instead at Ginny, who was looking back at him. They held each other's gaze for a long moment until Ron bellowed loudly at his team to go out and win. There was a great roar and the jumble of hands was broken, Harry and Ginny stumbling backwards from one another and looking frantically for the rest of their equipment.

Harry felt his hand tingle as he picked up his Firebolt and almost dropped it in surprise. It had never felt that way before, indeed the only person who talked about their broomstick in such a way was...

He looked over his shoulder.

...Ginny.

She was looking at her broomstick strangely, weighing it carefully in her hands and muttering to herself. Harry wondered if the balance might be off, but then she nodded sharply and grabbed her gloves from the bench, joining the line of the other players to form up in the players' tunnel. Harry picked up his own gloves and pulled them on deliberately, the rough dragon-hide scratching at the palms of his hands and dispelling the last lingering sensations that had been caused by the feel of Ginny's hand in his.

He lined up behind her in the tunnel, and tapped her on the shoulder.

"This is probably a bad time to ask, but have you done anything about this bond we're supposed to have?" he asked. He fought to keep his voice neutral even as another voice in his head began passing comments on how good it would be to find out if touching her again would get the same reaction. A stray thought crossed his mind about releasing her hair from the tight bun she had styled it into, and then running his fingers through its full, glossy, silky length. He shook his head, eager to dispel the thoughts from his head, and then looked back up at her.

She nodded curtly at him. "Yeah, it's not a problem. Dumbledore's teaching me to close my mind off against invasions," she said with a twisted smile. "It's hard, but you won't have me running around your mind for much longer. Soon there'll be no link for you to worry about. I've got plenty of incentive to want the link broken, every bit as much as you do, really."

Harry felt his stomach twist as Ginny turned away.

This is why you've stopped being around them, he tried to convince himself. This is why you have to stop caring. Ten seconds talking to her and you're acting like she's put a nausea jinx on you. Imagine what'll happen if Voldemort turns her. Would you be able to fight her?

Feeling very troubled, Harry followed Ginny and the rest of the team onto the pitch.

*

"And welcome, welcome, welcome to the final match of the 1996/1997 season here at Hogwarts. After Slytherin's, uh, technically sound victory over Hufflepuff last month, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw have it all to play for. If Ravenclaw win, they'll be the champions. If Gryffindor win by one hundred and fifty points or more, they're the champions. That's the stakes, folks, and in case you don't remember, last year the teams drew this fixture when Seekers Cho Chang and Harry Potter caught the Snitch at the same time. Can history repeat itself today, or will one of these teams finally prove to be the best?"

Lee's magically magnified voice rung in Harry's ears as he took in the scene before him. A full Hogwarts stadium rose up around him on all sides as the sun shone pleasantly down upon them. To Harry's faint surprise, the supporters of the four houses were mixed indiscriminately, although Harry's sharp eyesight picked out a cluster of older Slytherins who were apparently intent on spoiling the party. They booed and jeered lustily, led by Pansy Parkinson and Crabbe and Goyle. Harry waved to them as he mounted his Firebolt, and laughed as he realised that a number of them had unearthed their Potter Stinks badges from his fourth year.

"What's so funny?" Ron asked, swooping down from the sky to see why Harry wasn't in the air yet. Harry pointed at the group of Slytherins. Ron looked closer, and scowled.

"Ruddy idiots," he said. "After all that Dumbledore's done..."

"Yeah, well, don't let them get to you," Harry said.

"Them? As if!" Ron scowled at Harry. "You know what you've got to do, right?"

Harry nodded, and watched Ron zoom off.

It's strange. Ron's mellowed towards me of late, and he really wants to win this match, which helps. He's not going to risk getting on my bad side today, just in case I lose the game on purpose. That'd probably send him over to Voldemort on its own.

Harry grimaced at his own, very dark, joke.

*

Ron and Cho shook hands as Justin Finch-Fletchley and Terrence Higgs carried the ball crate out to the centre circle. Professor Skeeter was beaming as she hovered over the captains, her whistle bound around her wrist. Harry noticed that her wand was still hanging in its sheath at her side, and smiled slightly as he hung high above the pitch. He wondered briefly what would have happened if Skeeter hadn't been their Dark Arts teacher that year.

What would another teacher have taught us? Would we have learnt about weapons? I'd have been in a lot of trouble if I hadn't been able to practise swordfighting this year with Godric Gryffindor's sword.

Harry had come to look on Skeeter as almost the perfect example of what he was trying to achieve. She'd seen terrible things, the same as he had, and had devoted herself to fighting back, being ready, when the time came, to fight. Harry had no doubt that his teacher would be more than able to defeat any Death Eater Voldemort sent against her. In devoting himself to his studies, breaking off contact with his friends, and becoming obsessive with being ready to face Voldemort, he felt that he was following the same path that Professor Skeeter had trodden years before.

But for now, it was her skills as a Quidditch referee that mattered. The previous year's fixture had been an exciting, free flowing affair, played in the true spirit of the game and enjoyed by all. Harry hoped that it would be the same this year. Professor Skeeter was known to be very strict in her lessons - she didn't feel that edged weapons and messing around were a good mix - and if she was similarly strict about Quidditch, the game might be a stuttering affair with every minor foul blown for.

Harry needn't have worried. From the whistle, Vickie seized the Quaffle and embarked on a spirited shoulder-to-shoulder flight down the field with Ravenclaw Chaser Terry Boot. Harry, soaring high above the pitch, watched in enjoyment as the two players fought for possession of the Quaffle. Eventually, Ravenclaw Orla Quirke dispatched a Bludger at the pairing that knocked the Quaffle free.

"Su Li claims the Quaffle now, and she's free and away. Clever work from the Ravenclaw team there, although I suppose we shouldn't expect anything else, should we?" Even Harry, high up in the sky could hear Lee's voice.

Harry's eyes narrowed, and he dipped the nose of his Firebolt, plummeting forwards and feeling his robes rippling in the slipstream behind him. Li was absolutely clear of the Gryffindor team, who had been caught wrong footed by Orla Quirke's risky tactic. Ron was watching the approaching Chaser with a look of absolute focus on his face, but Harry knew that he could save Ron the effort of stopping Li's shot.

He streamlined his body, lying almost flat on his broom as he shot forwards like a bullet from a gun. He hit the Firebolt's top speed just as Li drew her arm backward to shoot. Harry flashed in front of her, making her fumble, and then pivoted sharply around, swatting the falling Quaffle with the tail of his broom and sending it soaring away from the Gryffindor goal and into the grateful hands of Katie Bell.

"Unorthodox tactics from Harry Potter there as Katie Bell passes to Ginny Weasley. It's a little known rule of Quidditch - Weasley to Boyd, intercepted by Ackerley, Ravenclaw have the Quaffle - that the Seeker is allowed to touch any of the four balls in play with their broom. Only the very best Seekers can use that rule in an offensive way, though, but don't forget, folks, that Harry Potter is one of the finest Seekers at Hogwarts for decades."

Lee's words drew a chorus of cheers and jeers from the crowd. Harry grinned self-consciously, and then noticed Cho staring pointedly at him from the other side of the pitch. She pointed silently at him, then jerked a thumb at herself.

Harry nodded once.

The challenge was accepted.

"Potter and Chang are waging a private war out there," Lee announced several minutes later. "The two Seekers have really raised their game out there, they're almost playing as fourth Chasers!"

Harry was breathing heavily as he rose up above the field of play. He and Cho had performed moves that Harry had only read about before the match had started. He had to admit, however, that Cho had been the better player. At one point, she had leapt off of her broom, caught the end of it, and swung it like a baseball bat, sending the Quaffle towards the Gryffindor end at top speed. Su Li had appeared at the last split second to punch the Quaffle through the hoop, leaving Ron stranded and putting Ravenclaw still further ahead, sixty points to twenty.

The crowd had risen in near unanimous appreciation at the incredible move, and now almost everyone was cheering Cho on. Harry couldn't blame them; Like Viktor Krum in the World Cup final three years before, Cho was the most exciting player on the pitch.

Professor Skeeter's whistle blew sharply, and Harry looked around to see her signaling a timeout. He dropped lower and joined the rest of the Gryffindor team underneath their goal hoops.

"Harry!" Ron barked, as soon as he touched down. "What the bloody hell is going on out there? You were just supposed to be looking for the Snitch, not pratting about and losing us points!"

Briefly, Harry's temper flared, but he knew that Ron was right. "Cho's better then I thought. I underestimated her," he admitted quietly.

Ron's expression softened slightly, so that he merely looked furious, as opposed to apoplectic.

"You're the one got us into this mess, Harry," he said. "You'd better have a plan to get us out."

Harry opened his mouth to reply, and then shook his head, blushing as he looked at the ground. He couldn't bring himself to look at his teammates at that moment.

Ron's scowl deepened, and he was about to say something in reply when Ginny said "Block her."

The rest of the team looked at her, and her eyes locked with Harry's. He felt a shiver go down his spine as he held the gaze unblinkingly, and this time he didn't berate himself for it.

"The first time you played Cho, she tried to block you all the time, right?" Ginny said. Harry nodded, and she continued, "She was on a pretty useless broom, but she's always been a good flyer, and she's just had another six months of practise where you could barely sit on a broom, let alone fly one. Harry," she said with a slight grin, "Cho's better than you are. You'll have to block her, try and make her lose her focus."

Ginny's words stung, and Harry flushed, but he knew that she was right. He nodded once, and Ron smiled tightly.

"Right," he said. "Teamwork, folks. We're forty points down, and we need to be level or better before by the time the Snitch appears. Harry, that's up to you. Don't catch the Snitch-"

"-if Ravenclaw are ahead. Got it, Oliver," Harry said. Ron nodded, and with a slight smile turned to the others. "Ginny, Vickie, Katie, fly like you did in practise and we'll be fine. Josh, Seamus, hit everything that moves, right?"

"Right," Seamus nodded.

The Gryffindor team took flight once more. Professor Skeeter blew sharply on her whistle, and the game resumed. Harry quickly sought out Cho, and took up station right beside her.

"People will start to talk about us again," she commented five minutes later. Gryffindor had scored three times since the restart, and Harry had stayed so close to her throughout that their knees had banged together several times.

Ron saved a long range shot at full stretch and used his momentum to pivot on his broom, letting the Quaffle go and sending it directly to Ginny. Stewart Ackerley, who had been marking Ginny, was completely thrown by the speed of Ron's pass and Ginny was clear and on the attack before he had a chance to react.

Cho, seeing that Harry was momentarily distracted by the clever play, dived sharply towards the pitch. Harry blinked, and dived after her.

*

Ginny shot through the air as fast as her Arrowhead would carry her. The Quaffle was tucked tightly in the crook of her arm, and she had the Ravenclaw hoops in sight. She wore a frown of concentration as she avoided a Bludger and ducked beneath the challenge from Su Li. Leaving the younger girl behind, she weaved and dived, trying to draw Ravenclaw Keeper Lisa Turpin away from her goalhoops. She knew that time was short, a fleeting glance behind her showing the three Ravenclaw Chasers forming up for a run on her, but-

There!

Turpin had drifted just slightly too far to her left, leaving one of her goalhoops open. Ginny took careful aim, drew back her arm and-

Cho rocketed past her, with Harry in close pursuit. Ginny caught a bellowed "Sorry!" from Harry, but dropped the Quaffle. Stewart Ackerley swooped down and snatched it, before sending a reverse pass over his shoulder to Terry Boot, and suddenly the Quaffle was half the length of the pitch away.

Ginny swore loudly, yanked her broom sharply around, and tore after the Ravenclaw Chasers.

*

Harry scowled as he pulled alongside Cho.

"What's up, Harry?" she asked. "Annoyed that I'm better than you?"

"No," he said, scanning the skies for the Snitch. "I am annoyed that you stopped Ginny scoring, though. You won't do that again," he added as Vickie drove a shot past Lisa Turpin to level the scores.

"You're going to stop me, then?" she asked, a contemptuous note to her voice that annoyed Harry deeply. He flashed a scowl at her, and then grinned.

"That's right, yeah," he said carelessly. "And you're not going to wind me up, either."

"Then I'll just have to outfly you," she said airily as Terry Boot put Ravenclaw ahead once more.

This time Harry was ready for Cho's dive and matched her manoeuvre inch for inch. She swore loudly as he pulled out of the dive a split second before she did.

"Bloody hell, Harry," she yelled as he weaved directly in front of her. He threw a roguish grin over his shoulder at her, and brought his Firebolt to a sudden stop.

Cho crashed hard into the back of him, cartwheeling off her broom and dropping to the ground a few feet below. She looked up at him with fury in her eyes, and then laughed.

"Potter, I'm going to kick your arse from here to Bulgaria and back," she said.

"Yeah, yeah, and while we're out there, go talk to Viktor Krum. Maybe he can give you some flying tips," Harry grinned.

*

"Our two Seekers are marking one another out of the match," Lee announced several minutes later. "After spending the first part of the match flying entirely without rules, discipline or restraint, Potter and Chang are now showing incredible control. The pitch is open, and it's up to the Chasers, Beaters and Keepers to decide this match now. Chang and Potter are so busy blocking each other that they probably wouldn't see the Snitch if it flew up their robes."

Harry and Cho shared a laugh at this as they tussled for the lead at seventy miles an hour straight downwards. They pulled out of the dive at the same instant that Ginny, at the end of another mazy sprint through the entire Ravenclaw team, had her shot saved miraculously by Turpin in the Ravenclaw goal. Harry winced as Ginny pounded the handle of her broomstick.

"Quite a temper she has," Cho said conversationally as she thrust her scaly-gloved hand into Harry's face.

"Ough. Cheat! Yeah, she hasn't scored yet, but she's been playing really well."

"Been watching her, Have you Harry?"

Harry blushed. "It doesn't take much concentration to keep up with you," he said.

"You'll pay for that," Cho said, grabbing the back of his robes and shooting straight upwards. Harry had to hold tight to his Firebolt to avoid being dragged off. In retaliation, he grabbed Cho's robes and pulled them over her head.

*

Professor Skeeter had long since given up on the two Seekers, who were clearly enjoying themselves, and was instead focusing on the Beaters, who were becoming wilder and wilder with their attacks. Josh in particular had taken Ron's words to heart, and had already driven a Bludger straight at Stewart Ackerley, despite the Ravenclaw Chaser already having passed the Quaffle on. Michael Corner had replaced the injured third year, and had already scored twice. Ravenclaw now led by thirty points.

Ginny was furious with herself. Ravenclaw had broken the hundred-point mark, and the Seekers had all shared in the spoils. Gryffindor, meanwhile, were trailing because she, Ginny, had yet to score. She glared at Corner, her ex-boyfriend, and vowed to start pulling her weight on the pitch.

If I could just focus! Why can't I stay focused on the Quaffle?

She sighed.

Okay, so what if Harry's flirting with Cho? I don't care!

She groaned.

Oh, hell. Just keep your eye on the Quaffle, Weasley. I'll hex them when we win.

*

Lee crowed loudly as Ginny set Vickie and Katie up for two easy goals in the next five minutes. Ron had found his form after letting in a number of easy shots - Harry was worried about his consistency, but would never admit it - and Ravenclaw now only led by ten.

Harry and Cho continued to fight it out above the match, scuffling and flailing at one another like bored siblings. Harry glanced down occasionally to see what was going on in the match, but Cho seemed content to let her teammates play on without her.

Well, she has an advantage, we have to be level or better before I can catch the Snitch. That's why I have to keep checking the match, Harry lied to himself. Lee's commentary was perfectly audible at three hundred feet, and he knew full well that Ravenclaw were leading by one hundred points to ninety.

And then, flitting out from deep beneath the stands, barely glimpsed over Cho's shoulder as she pushed in against him, there was the Snitch.

*

A great roar arose as Ginny caught Vickie's neat pass, sideslipping around Michael with ease. He flailed at her, one hand catching the tail of her robes, but she was already moving at speed, and all he managed to do was unbalance himself so that he ended up hanging upside down from his broomstick.

Ginny risked a glance upwards, and saw that Harry and Cho were moving forwards with a purpose now, still tussling with one another but-

Then Ginny caught sight of the Snitch, and for a second, her mind went blank. She shook her head, and leant forward, kicking her broom up to a higher speed. She didn't need to look, she knew that Su Li and Terry Boot were after her. Worse, Su Li was on a Nimbus 2001, and that broom was faster than Ginny's Arrowhead. She couldn't outpace Li, instead she had to outfly her.

And she's no slouch! Ginny thought desperately as she caught sight of Li creeping up on her from the corner of her eye. Ginny slued hard to her right, dipping her broomstick low and gaining a few metres as Li reacted slowly.

Lucky, Ginny thought to herself as she aimed her broom at the Ravenclaw goalhoops. Li was already closing in on her again, and Ginny could hear Katie screaming for the pass.

I can't! If I pass, Harry has to keep holding Cho back from the Snitch even longer.

She risked a glance upwards as Harry and Cho passed overhead, and for the briefest of instants her eyes met Harry's.

Time seemed to slow. She could hear the roar of the crowd recede to a dull, throbbing, rumble. Nearer to her, there was a shrill whistle as a Bludger shot through the air beside her. She could feel the slipstreams from the brooms of the two Seekers tugging at the hair that had worked its way loose from the bun she had styled it in. She could hear the other players yelling and screaming as her arm came back, and could see Lisa Turpin closing her down, narrowing her shooting angles.

And then Ginny took her shot, sending the Quaffle looping up and over Lisa's head. She saw it dropping gradually, saw it falling towards the middle hoop. She saw Lisa still coming forwards on a collision course, and dived sharply to avoid her.

She didn't see the Quaffle bounce on the rim of the hoop and go through, leveling the scores.

Nor did she see the Bludger that Ravenclaw Beater Orla Quirke had driven at her while she still had the Quaffle.

*

Harry actually had a slight lead on Cho as they banked sharply to follow the Snitch around the curve of the stadium. He was on the faster broom, and the Snitch was a long way away, and as soon as they'd seen the Snitch, he and Cho had stopped playing around and shifted immediately into Seeker mode. And they were the two finest Seekers seen at Hogwarts since Charlie Weasley, who could have played for England, had departed a decade before.

But the chase for the Snitch wasn't one of skill, to Harry's disappointment. The Snitch was flying absolutely level and, fast though it was, it wasn't as fast as Harry and Cho were.

And Cho wasn't as fast as Harry was.

Harry was a broom's length in front when he flew towards Ginny, who was taking careful aim at the Ravenclaw goalhoops. He hoped that she scored, knowing that her blazing passion for Quidditch would not be sated by a match where she didn't get on the scoresheet.

And I can't catch the Snitch unless we're level on points, he reminded himself. This chase wasn't just about speed.

He and Cho flashed past Ginny at top speed, and he looked down, knowing as he did so that he was risking Cho blazing past him.

But I have to see if we've equalised yet, he lied to himself again.

For the briefest of instants, his gaze met Ginny's, and time seemed to slow once more, as it had when he had fought the two Dark wizards, weeks before.

He looked up to refocus on the Snitch, and saw Orla Quirke drive a Bludger forward. He half-flinched, expecting the heavy iron ball to come crashing towards him, but it didn't have enough height on it. It had to be aimed at-

Oh, damn.

-Ginny.

Harry chanced a look behind him. Ginny had taken her shot, and the Quaffle was floating gently, gracefully goalward. Harry could tell that it would go in, that Gryffindor would be level on points.

And I can catch the Snitch. And we'll win the match and the cup. And Ginny can handle a Bludger by herself.

Harry could feel the adrenaline roaring through him. His head came around to face forwards again, and he realised that he had allowed Cho to draw level. His mind was made up for him, and he spurred the Firebolt on.

The world returned to normal speed in the blink of an eye, and once more Harry and Cho were tussling for position. Harry was moving, barely, infinitesimally into the lead.

And the Snitch was within reach. Harry stretched out his hand, his fingers a few inches further forward than Cho's. He could feel the wind from its silvery wings brushing his fingertips...

And then the Snitch dropped, and Harry's hand closed on nothing. His head whipped around to follow the Snitch, which had reversed course and was now speeding back across the pitch.

Wordlessly, Harry and Cho pulled their brooms around, and set off in pursuit once more. Harry glanced quickly up and caught sight of the Bludger, which had followed Ginny in diving under Lisa Turpin, and was now only a few feet from Ginny's back.

With a jolt, Harry realised that Ginny had no idea the Bludger was behind her.

Harry was flying on autopilot, pacing Cho, but not trying to use the Firebolt's greater speed. He was focused only on the Bludger, wishing it would go off course, willing Ginny to realise it was there and change her dive into a climb, or a swerve, or anything that would fool the Bludger or make it lose interest.

And then, in the blink of an eye, it was over. The Bludger barely seemed to brush Ginny's shoulder, but she was flying alone, thrown from her broom. Her head snapped backwards and her body hung limply in the air for a long second. Her broom carried on a few feet before stopping. The Bludger carried on, its course almost unaltered, as though the collision hadn't really mattered very much.

Later, Harry would be asked if his next act was born from conscious or unconscious thought, and he would be unable to answer. He wasn't even aware that he had acted. One second he had been flying after the Snitch, the next thing he was flying after Ginny.

She was dropping lifelessly towards the ground, tumbling in the air as she fell. Harry tried to gauge her speed, knowing that a sudden stop at the speed she was travelling at could hurt her worse than a dozen Bludgers. But for that reason, he couldn't let her fall too much further.

He was close enough to see her properly now. Her face, always pale, now had a deathly pallor about it that made Harry's blood run cold in his veins. Her hair whipped about her face as she plummeted groundwards.

Harry fell towards her, squeezing every drop of magic he could from the Firebolt, frantically trying to get to her before she hit the ground.

Why was I so far away? I have to protect these people, I can't let her be hurt, I won't...

I have to time this just right.

He was bare inches away from her. He resisted the temptation to snatch at her, instead slipping his arms under her falling form, and gradually easing off on the speed of the Firebolt until he was matching her speed exactly. She nestled easily in his arms, her head resting safely against his shoulder.

With both hands full, Harry leant back as far as he could, trying by weight alone to pull the Firebolt out of the steep dive before it hit the ground.

He could feel it pulling up, could feel the wind tearing at him. Ginny's hair whipped at his face as he felt the broom shuddering under the stress of carrying its two riders through such a hard manoeuvre. Silently, Harry prayed for the broom to hold together. Even with its patented diamond hard finish, he thought that he could hear it creaking beneath him.

Harry held tightly to Ginny leaning so far back on the broom that he could feel the magic crackling in his hair as it brushed against the tail. He was lying almost flat on the broom now, moving at a tremendous speed. He wanted to brake, to will the broom to stop, but he dared not. He wasn't holding the broom, only the cushioning charm was stopping him slipping off, and that wouldn't hold him and Ginny if there were a sudden deceleration. They would be catapulted off, and that would be as bad, or worse, for Ginny then the hard landing Harry had saved her from.

He risked a glance at her face. She was still pale, and Harry thought that he could feel dampness under his the fingers of his left hand, which was clasped at her shoulder. He held her tightly, praying that he wasn't doing any more damage to her injuries, but if he lost his grip, she would fall.

Harry could feel the heels of his boots scraping the earth of the pitch. He braked the broom as gently as he could, conscious that the stadium had walls, that if he braked too slowly, then he would slam into them. He also knew that if he braked too quickly, then he would be back to being thrown off his broom.

See what happens when you start caring for people? All these things you have to think about? How much easier to just let go of it all, lock yourself away and not care about her. No-one would have faulted you for letting her fall. No-one would blame you. It wouldn't have been your fault. You can't trust your emotions, they'll get you in trouble. You've lost the Cup, you know that. She would have been okay, someone would have saved her, but you had to be the one to catch her. Well, congratulations. You might as well give up on defeating Voldemort, because he'll always be able to use people against you, he'll always have something to hold over your head, and you'll always be ruled by your feelings. Just give up.

Harry ignored the thoughts in his head. They were thoughts he'd had been having for months, but right now, with Ginny lying unconscious in his arms, they were thoughts that he couldn't bring himself to believe. If he'd lost the Cup, then hadn't he saved a life?

The broomstick stopped a few feet from the end of the pitch. Harry slumped exhaustedly back, going limp. His mind was in turmoil as he held Ginny tightly against his chest, unwilling to let go. Absently, he noticed Cho and the rest of the Ravenclaw team celebrating, borne aloft by their housemates. He was glad for her, winning the Cup outright in her last year.

His vision was gradually blocked as people gathered around them. He recognised Madam Pomfrey - he'd seen more of her so far that year than almost anyone else - but the number of people clustered around blocked out the light. He couldn't see their faces, couldn't tell who they were. He kept a firm hold on Ginny, even as Madam Pomfrey probed at her shoulder and neck.

Then Dumbledore came through the crowd, parting it as easily as if it were mist. It was quite impossible not to recognise the Headmaster, Harry thought dully. He seemed to glow, his long silvery hair and beard shining brightly.

"Harry, you can't help her now. It's over. Let go."

"I had to catch her," Harry said thickly. He seemed inexpressibly weary, as though he was once again feeling the effects of a fit of exhaustion. "I couldn't let her fall."

"That's right, Harry... just let go, now..."

Dumbledore reached down and easily lifted Ginny from Harry's grasp, ignoring a squawk of protest from Madam Pomfrey at having her patient moved. Dumbledore conjured a stretcher from thin air, and placed Ginny gently upon it. With a wave of his wand, it set off at a fast walking pace towards the castle. Madam Pomfrey hurried after it, and a number of those surrounding Harry went as well.

Dumbledore reached down and pulled Harry upright. Harry stood listlessly, staring up at Dumbledore's twinkling eyes.

"We lost the match?" he asked. Dumbledore nodded.

"Yes, Miss Chang had an unimpeded run at the Snitch when you decided to catch Miss Weasley."

"Ron'll be furious," Harry said."

"Perhaps," Dumbledore smiled. "But you did a very good thing, Harry, I'm sure you know that."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, sure. But whenever I do something like this, it always goes wrong, doesn't it?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Harry, the next time you see Ronald Weasley, please ask him if he thinks that your actions went wrong. If you had caught the Snitch then Miss Weasley would have fallen, and fallen hard. She was falling too fast for a cushioning charm. Only someone flying could have saved her, do you understand? You were the only person who could have saved her, and you did save her."

Harry nodded silently, persistent thoughts echoing in his mind. He felt lost and unsure, unable to decide what he would do next.

He looked up. Hermione was standing just in front of him. Her hands were clasped in front of her, and he noticed that her fingers were bleeding. The cuts looked almost like teeth marks, and Harry realised that Hermione had been biting her fingers.

Why, though? The match? Ginny's fall?

He was about to ask her, when she said: "Ron's gone up to the hospital wing with Ginny and the rest of the team. They weren't upset, Harry. Dumbledore was right, you did the right thing."

Harry stayed on the Quidditch pitch for a long time, waiting until the stadium was completely empty before making his way to the changing rooms. He couldn't bring himself to face anyone. He needed time to think, indeed he needed time to work out exactly what he should be thinking.

With a small sigh, he trudged back to the changing rooms, stripped off his sweat stained robes, and stood for a very long time under a scalding hot shower as he thought about his life, and what exactly he was going to do about it.

To be continued...