A Damn Fool Quidditch Match

xxx

"It's up! It's up Harry!" Ron Weasley ran full tilt into their dormitory. "Hooch just posted it!"

Harry wasn't nearly as excited as Ron; he almost dreaded the news. "When is it?"

"First match up; first Saturday in November."

"Maybe I can make plans to be in Infirmary that week," Harry muttered. "Break a few bones..."

"And who's supposed to play Seeker? Dobby?"

"Ron, I...I can't say anything to her."

"What do you think you'd say? Who has a conversation in the middle of a Quidditch match, anyway?"

xxx

The return to Hogwarts after the triumph and tragedy of the Triwizard Tournament began on the platform at King's Cross and didn't end until just before the Sorting. Aurors were in evidence all over Platform Nine and three-quarters, alert for any sign of Death-Eaters. Nobody knew quite what to expect, what with Lord Voldemort regaining human form and his Death Eaters on the prowl again.

The train trip, however, was uneventful. With all the returning students assembled in the Great Hall and the new group of First-Years still out on the lake, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore rose to make a surprising announcement.

"Before we proceed to the Sorting, one of the students has asked to address the school. I do not know the reason for this address, but I trust we shall all find out. Miss Cho Chang of Ravenclaw."

As Cho rose from the Ravenclaw table, quick whispers and mutterings ran through the hall. She had been keeping company with the Hogwarts Champion, Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff Seeker. Cedric had been killed in the Third Task, because Lord Voldemort had taken advantage of the Tournament as a way to capture Harry Potter and use him to regain physical form. Voldemort neither knew nor cared about Cedric Diggory or Cho Chang, but the death of Cedric--the first love of Cho's life, as far as anyone could tell--had hit her very hard. Most of the school had offered her comfort and condolences, although others did not. Draco Malfoy, whose father was one of Voldemort's Death-Eaters, was one; Harry Potter, for quite a different reason, was another.

Harry now craned his neck to look on the very pretty face of Cho as she stood before the Head Table:

"I simply wanted to take this opportunity, whilst all of us are here, to thank you, all of you, for your kind words and messages since the Tournament. What happened was a shock to all of us, I'm sure, and yet I received so many owls this summer, with messages I shall treasure all of my days."

These words stung Harry, and made him wish he had sent such a message. The truth was, he was afraid of what Cho would say in reply.

"And I would like to say one more thing. I feel quite fine now, ready to get on with what the year ahead has to offer. I resolve to look ahead rather than back on the past, and I..." She had been looking around the Great Hall, and she stopped speaking when her eyes momentarily locked on those of Harry Potter. She recovered herself quickly, looking elsewhere: "I want to thank you all again, from the bottom of my heart." She quickly moved back to the Ravenclaw table.

Dumbledore rose again. "Thank you, Miss Chang. I couldn't have said it better myself. We need to look ahead, especially now, and what better way to do that than to bring in the newest group of First-Years. Professor McGonagall, you may do the honors."

Harry had stopped listening as soon as Cho sat down. Why was it? Why did he have this special talent--where Cho was concerned--for always making the wrong choices? He'd waited until too late to ask her to the Yule Ball, so he in effect threw Cho and Cedric together. Then he suggested that Cedric and he take the Cup together--the Cup which was really a Portkey sending them both into the arms of Voldemort. Because of it, Cedric was dead, and Cho was distraught, from that day to this. Oh, he heard what she'd said just now, but she didn't fool him. He knew the grief he had caused her. He'd pushed them together, then pulled them apart, killing one and forcing the other to live in agony.

And none of this left Harry Potter untouched. Oh, no; now he had a colossal load of guilt on his fifteen-year-old shoulders. One person dead, a family in mourning and the girl who loved him in agony, and it was all his fault. He may as well get up and go to the Slytherin table right now. Probably the only group of witches and wizards in the entire school that wasn't cursing the name of...

"HARRY POTTER!"

He looked up from his empty plate with a start. The Sorting was over, the feast had begun, and Hermione Granger, while not exactly cursing his name, didn't look too pleased.

"I have asked you three times now to pass the peas, Harry. If there's trouble with your hearing, go see Madam Pomfrey. If you're ignoring me, I'd like to know why."

Harry shoved the bowl of peas toward Hermione, spilling quite a lot of them in the process, and stood up. "Sorry I didn't hear you, but I've got a lot on my mind; is that all right with you?" Without waiting for an answer, he stormed out of the Great Hall, followed by many pairs of eyes; these included his friends Hermione and Ron, the Gryffindor Quidditch team...

and Cho Chang of Ravenclaw House.

xxx

In his dormitory, with only Hedwig on the window-sill for company, Harry realized that he had left the Great Hall without eating a bite. He hadn't much of an appetite on the Hogwarts Express; fear of what Cho might say to him should they meet saw to that. But now he realized how hungry he was, ands cursed himself for dashing out of the Great Hall and making a spectacle of himself--without taking a single scrap of food.

At that moment, Ron walked into the room, carrying a plate with rolls, new potatoes, and a whole roasted chicken. Without a word, he set it down on Harry's bed.

"Thanks, Ron," Harry sighed, before tearing into the chicken with his bare hands. "Sometimes," he said with his mouth full, "I think you're worth all the money I've got in Gringotts."

Ron blushed as he sat down on his own bed and tried to put on a brave show. "Just protecting my investment, is all. I've got a bit down on you for the first Quidditch match."

Harry knew that, even at the best of times, Ron never had a spare Sickle to bet with, on sports or anything else. "Whose idea was that?"

"The twins. They came into all that money after the Tournament, and since they can't go into business for themselves until they graduate, they're busy laying it off."

"But they can't bet on Quidditch! They're Beaters! Won't people think they'd be playing just to win their bets?"

"Oh, these bets don't have anything to do with them."

"What are they, then?"

"Well, they're giving odds on whether you or Cho get the Snitch when we play Ravenclaw."

"Ron, they're mad! Tell them to give back the money!"

"I don't see why."

"But ... but that match..."

"We all just heard Cho say she's all right."

"Well, maybe she's putting up a front."

"What about you?"

"What about ... me?"

"Do you feel up for it? Going to give it your best? Or are you going to let her win just because you feel sorry for her?"

For a moment, Harry was tempted to throw the plate at Ron--but he was still hungry. "I'd never let her win, or any other Seeker; you know that."

"What is it, then?"

"Look," Harry said impatiently, "we've been through all this."

Indeed they had. When Harry had stayed his by-now-usual two weeks at the Burrow with the Weasleys, Harry and Ron would often tell the others that they were going to sleep, go up to their bedrooms, and spend hours talking over the mysteries of life.

Girls were becoming the most interesting mystery, but there seemed a large gulf between Ron's questions--which had started with Hermione attending the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum--and Harry's. He'd hardly ever said more than a dozen words to Cho, and never told her what he really felt: that she was too pretty to be possible, that time seemed to stand still when he was around her, that he ached to tell her--what? Sometimes Harry couldn't say himself what he felt. He only knew he'd never felt anything like it before.

xxx

For the next two months, however, all of Hogwarts was witness to a very strange dance. Harry would try to approach Cho Chang, but she would invariably avoid him. She would arrive early in the Great Hall for meals, or arrive late; she would be surrounded by Quidditch teammates or by other girls from her dormitory; she slipped into and out of her classes without Harry seeing her.

And Harry tried to see her. Whenever his free time permitted (and, between his new courses and Quidditch practice, there wasn't much free time), he sought her out, more than he had in the past. He felt that he had to deliver a message. He had to talk to her about what had happened to Cedric at the Tournament.

But he couldn't; right up until Game Day.

xxx

"Right-o, Hogwarts!" Lee Jordan's amplified voice rang through the stadium. "Welcome to the first Quidditch match played at Hogwarts Academy in two years. Today, Gryffindor defends its championship against Ravenclaw! It's a classic Seeker battle between Harry Potter and Cho Chang, so get set for lots of action today!"

Harry Potter didn't even seem to know that he had teammates. His priorities had been shaped by everything that had happened since the Third Task:

First, talk it out with Cho. Second, worry about the Snitch.

Madam Hooch blew the whistle and tossed the Quaffle, and the match was on. Everyone seemed to miss Quidditch when it wasn't played last year; players and spectators alike eagerly got into the game.

Except for Harry. He looked around for Cho. She had taken a position high above the pitch. Whether she found the Snitch was unimportant. She was still avoiding Harry.

Harry couldn't stand for that. He sped up to be beside her. "Cho, I need to..."

She wouldn't let him continue, climbing higher. All he could do was follow. "We've got to talk about the..."

Cho climbed higher still. This time, Harry actually stopped right above her. "Listen to me, please! I have to..."

"I don't want to hear anything right now, Harry Potter. Not about the Tournament, and not about you."

"Listen, Cho, you don't know how I feel about you..."

"I don't?" She turned on him, as if she could hardly believe what she just heard. "Harry, you've made it plain for years how you feel about me. I know how you feel; the TEAMS know how you feel; all four HOUSES know how you feel; even the GHOSTS know how you feel! You've done everything but take out an advertisement in the Prophet!"

Dean Jordan's amplified voice interrupted them. "I just thought Miss Chang and Mister Potter would like to know that Fred or George Weasley has just bashed the Snitch, in the mistaken belief that it was a Bludger. And a bunch of us were just thinking that, if only a couple of Seekers would come along, we could get up a Quidditch game."

What happened next caught them all by surprise. Harry and Cho both turned toward Dean and shouted down:

"IN A MINUTE!"

They looked back at each other in surprise; then, they started to laugh.

She wants to hear it, Harry; then, let her hear it--now or never.

"Cho, I know you said you were all right, but I have to say this anyway. We didn't have any idea what was happening. I know I should have tried to save Cedric; tried to stop it. But I couldn't; it all happened too fast. And I'm so sorry."

Harry waited; Cho didn't say or do anything at first. Then he saw the two large, perfectly shaped tears gather in her eyes and travel down her face. He turned away to keep her from seeing his own tears.

"Harry. Wait."

He stopped, but didn't turn back at once. "I guess all this time you needed to say that to me. I know that now because, no matter how much I told myself I was all right, I needed to hear that from you."

"You ... you did?"

"You were there. You knew. When you wouldn't talk to me about it, I just ... you left me to imagine ... such horrible things."

"You could have asked me."

"Just as you could have told me."

"I ... well, I ... was afraid."

"Of what?"

"Of you. What you'd think of me, for letting Cedric die."

Cho stared at Harry for a minute, stunned. Then she turned her broom. "I'm going down to take myself out of the game. You'll still have to catch the Snitch to win, but I won't stand in your way. Enjoy the win, Harry Potter." She started down toward Madam Hooch.

Harry's jaw worked for a few seconds, but no words came out, until finally one did: "HEY!"

He darted down at once, blocking Cho from getting to Madam Hooch. "Don't do this!"

Cho acted as if she hadn't heard, and tried to swing around Harry's left.

He blocked her. "Stop this, Cho..."

Before he could say anything else, she swung to the right; again he blocked her way.

"There's no point in chasing the Snitch by myself!" he shouted at Cho; he was almost as purple in the face as Uncle Vernon. "Unless there's two of us, there's no game!"

Cho closed her eyes and heaved a deep sigh. "Now do you get it? You can't just lock yourself away and not say anything. Nothing gets solved that way."

"As you know from experience?"

There was a flash of anger in Cho's eyes, which made his stomach feel more distressed than it had ever been before. But it only lasted a second, as Cho looked down at her hands, tightly clutching the Comet 260, and said, "Yes. Yes, I know from experience. I went for weeks without talking to anyone about Cedric. I was hoping that the pain might just go away on its own. But it didn't. Regardless of what I said in the Great Hall, it still hasn't. I know now; I needed to talk to someone. I needed you."

"Me? Why me?"

"You were there."

"And you don't hold me responsible?"

"Were you responsible?"

"NO! Of course not!"

"Then why have you been slinking around Hogwarts like an escaped criminal? Do you WANT people to think you were responsible?"

"I'm NOT responsible!"

"Then act like it, Harry Potter. Act like the Seeker I know you are; for my sake if not for your own. Agreed?"

Harry couldn't believe it; he was afraid of being condemned, and now he'd gotten a reprieve. "Cho, there's ... something else I've been meaning to..."

"RIGHT, YOU TWO!" Madam Hooch's voice hit them harder that Lee's had done. "I'VE BEEN VERY PATIENT UNDER THE CIRCUMSTANCES, BUT YOU'RE HOLDING UP PLAY! EITHER YOU TWO GET DOWN HERE NOW AND START DOING SOME SERIOUS SEEKING, OR I'LL SUSPEND THE MATCH AND TAKE FIFTY POINTS FROM BOTH HOUSES!"

Given the howls of protest in the stands, neither Harry nor Cho wanted to risk the latter. Cho was quicker off the mark, spiraling down toward the stadium, where the two teams had resumed play; apparently, they had stopped to see what would happen between Harry and Cho.

The game should have gone well after that-both Cho and Harry found their hearts considerably lighter after losing the burdens they'd dragged around all summer. They devoted themselves to doing what they were supposed to be doing all along: hunting the Golden Snitch.

Harry spotted it first. It was travelling in the wake of one of the Weasleys. He had to play it carefully. Cho was actually closer to it than he was. If he accidentally tipped her off, she could easily get it first, even on her Comet. He had to time this just right. Make sure she still hadn't spotted it yet-and it looked like she hadn't. She was moving speedily but with no seeming purpose from one side of the pitch to the other.

Then Harry realized; maybe she did know. Even though her path seemed aimless, she kept cutting across the path he would take to the Snitch. She was part of an obstacle course: Chasers and Beaters running the Quaffle all over the course, the Snitch hiding behind a Gryffindor Beater, and Cho Chang-not yet making a play for it herself, but always in the way of Harry making a play for it himself.

He was more on edge than he'd ever been in a Quidditch match. Didn't she see it? Why didn't she make a move? He didn't know whether the crowd was in suspense, but he couldn't take it any longer. The next time, the next time Cho passes by, wait until you're out of her field of vision, if she sees you start up she'll just turn, just wait until she passes ... NOW!

Harry spurred on the Firebolt; it moved so quickly that it could well have punched a hole in Fred/George Weasley's back if he had lost control. As it is, he covered the distance to the Snitch in less than a second, but the Snitch took off just as Harry caught up to it.

In that moment:

Ravenclaw Chaser Pablo Molina, in possession of the Quaffle, tried a long two-handed pass over the heads of the Gryffindor Beaters. It fell short, nearly hitting Whichever Weasley in the face.

Out of reflex, Weasley batted the Quaffle away, straight at Ravenclaw Chaser Erasmus Skiddle. It hit his chest and bounced out of his arms. All six Chasers launched themselves to recover the loose Quaffle.

None of them noticed that the Snitch was now riding in the wake of the Quaffle, or that Cho had been chasing the Snitch.

Cho was blind-sided by two different Chasers-one from each House--moving in different directions. Her eyes went out of focus, she reached forward to where she thought the Snitch would be-

reached too far forward and fell off of her broom.

Harry looked up, saw what had happened, and had exactly one idea in his head: stop her. Not knowing where the Snitch was, not caring where it was, he chased after Cho, trying to stop her free-fall, to keep her from hitting the ground. At least, that was all that Harry had by way of an idea. He had just pulled under Cho when a rogue Bludger caught Harry in the face.

That was the last thing he remembered-that, and the scent of Cho Chang's hair...

xxx

Harry Potter felt as if he was flying through the thickest fog ever known. Nothing registered on his senses; nothing, except a dull pain throughout his body. He tried to open his eyes but couldn't seem to. He tried to speak, but all that escaped his throat was a low, rattling moan.

He heard a voice that sounded a mile away: "This one's back, then."

Maybe it was five minutes, or maybe it was an hour, before he even tried to speak again. When he did, though, it was the same guttural rasp, made worse by a throat that felt like sand had been poured into it.

"Just take a spoon of this, Harry." He recognized the voice as Madam Pomfrey, and thought that he must be in the hospital wing. Whatever she poured into his mouth wasn't one of her usual medicinal potions, full of unknown smells and tastes.

As if she read his mind, she said, "It's just water, dear. And you can only have a little bit until tomorrow."

Harry struggled to speak, but couldn't seem to make any of his muscles move at will. Finally, he forced out the word, "Cho."

"She's in the bed right next to yours, poor thing. I do believe you two have set a record for the worst Quidditch accident ever at Hogwarts."

"What..." Again, it was a struggle for Harry to say even that.

"Let's see. A broken nose and three broken ribs for you, a broken arm and a dislocated shoulder for Miss Chang. It's all been fixed by now, of course."

"Now?"

"You don't realize it yet, but it's about six hours since you two fell off your brooms."

Six hours? Harry didn't even try to speak anymore.

"I've had to put you both in a Stasis Charm, of course," Madam Pomfrey went on. "It'll keep you immobile until morning. You should both be ready to go back to your Houses by then."

There was a pounding on a door somewhere. "I'll have to limit you two to one visitor apiece, and only for five minutes. Yours first, Harry, because he's been rather insistent."

Harry heard Madam Pomfrey's slow footsteps, followed by much louder, much faster ones, followed by Ron's voice. "Are you all right, Harry?!"

"Yes, Mr. Weasley. I've explained his condition to you. You have five minutes."

"Oh, Harry, we thought that was the end for sure," Ron said, a deep emotion under his voice. "It was worse than three years ago in the rain; the way you two banged into each other..."

Again Harry struggled to make one word heard: "Match."

"Oh, that. Well, after you two were taken here, they put in Reserve Seekers. Only they weren't ready. They never thought you'd both be out of action, and, well, Ravenclaw got the Snitch, but the score ended up three-forty to three-thirty in Gryffindor's favour. We won."

Harry thought he was delirious. Did Ron just say what he said? He gave up trying to sort it out.

"The twins couldn't be happier, by the way. They won all their bets. I can tell you about it now. They figured you and Cho would still be upset at each other over the Tournament and all, and, well, they bet the Snitch wouldn't be taken by you or Cho, but by a reserve."

They both heard a curious sound from the other side of the screen separating Harry's bed from Cho's. Cho was apparently trying to stifle her voice, but they couldn't tell if she was laughing or crying.

"Anyway," Ron went on, "that had to be the loopiest damn fool Quidditch match in history. You two ignore most of what's going on so you can settle, well, whatever it is you settled, and then you damn near kill yourselves."

"That's enough of that kind of talk, Mister Weasley," Madam Pomfrey interrupted. "Go on down to dinner and send in the other visitor."

"See ya tomorrow, then," Ron grabbed Harry's hand and gave it a quick squeeze. He heard Ron's steps die away, and heard quicker, lighter steps come in. It was one of Cho's dormitory mates, Letitia Groondy. She spent the five minutes going on about how everyone was scared to death at first, then how Ravenclaw got the Snitch, then how the team was partying in the Ravenclaw Common Room even though they lost on points, and that the party would probably still be going full force when Cho came back in the morning.

Finally, Letitia left. Harry didn't know what to do. There was really nothing to do, except lie there and heal until morning. Lie there and feel angrier than he had since he'd lived with the Dursleys. Here he was, alone in the hospital wing with Cho Chang, and neither of them could move, could speak...

"Nurse."

It was Cho's voice, as weak as his own. Madam Pomfrey walked over and put her ear almost against Cho's mouth, as far as Harry could tell. Slowly, painfully it seemed, Cho was whispering instructions to Madam Pomfrey, one word at a time.

Harry strained his ears to hear what was going on. He heard Madam Pomfrey say, "It's irregular, but I can't see the harm." He then heard the screen being wheeled away between the two beds, then the sound of Cho's bed being moved. Harry couldn't turn his head to see where-until he felt Cho's bed bump up against his own.

"You've got five minutes, then."

Five minutes? For what?

Then Harry felt Madam Pomfrey open his right hand, and place Cho's left hand within it. In spite of the Stasis Charm, Harry curled his fingers around Cho's, holding her hand as tightly as she held his.

And, because he couldn't turn his head to see her, he had to wonder if she was crying too.