Flying

"Flying"

Ginny Weasley loved to fly.

She loved the wind in her hair, the feel of her broom in her hands, and the excitement of dives and loops and twirls. She loved the way she felt light as a feather as she flew. And she especially loved the way that no matter how badly she was doing, she knew she was going to win.

No one taught her to fly. Late at night, after the house was silent with slumber, she would sneak out the door and take the key to the shed that held the broomsticks from its spot in the chicken pen, and silently as she could, slide the creaky door open. Then, she would carefully take George's broom from its hook, and kick off into the night sky.

She would soar through the air, wishing that she would never have to come down. For Ginny it was like taking a vacation from the world, letting go, flying away. After a while, she would sadly alight on the ground, place the broom back on its hook, and trudge inside.

Then came the day she went to Hogwarts. She was as excited as anyone else, but for a different reason.

Hogwarts had Quidditch. Hogwarts had broomsticks.

Hogwarts had what she had always dreamed of. The Quidditch Cup.

For three agonizing years, Ginny waited for her chance. Then finally, in her fourth year, she became seeker for Gryffindor. For months, she was not only allowed, but encouraged to take her vacation from the world. She would let everything go, and fly.

Years five and six passed in a rush of wind and excitement. Ginny now had a new broom, and had become skilled in the art of "seeking".

Now she laughed as she flew, spinning and swirling and diving and soaring. She won every match, every conquest, every challenge. But her whole life she had wanted the Cup, and nothing could stop her now.

The next week, a notice went up on the Gryffindor notice board that the last match of the season would be held in twelve days' time. It suddenly occurred to Ginny that if she lost this match, then everything she had worked for her whole life would be for nothing.

Ginny woke at five in the morning the day of her last match ever of Hogwarts Quidditch, too nervous to bear it. She paced and paced, hoping for a sign that would help her regain her confidence. Her whole life, she had had enough. But now, when she needed it most, it had vanished.

The ground was moist as she mounted her broom, still shaking. Then Madam Hooch blew her whistle, and fourteen pairs of brooms streaked into the air.

Ginny's hands were slippery on her broomstick as she squinted through the air. Then suddenly she saw it. A flash of gold! She sped toward it, her heart racing.

The Slytherin Seeker was neck and neck with her. Ginny could feel her heart pounding in her throat; they were inches away. Every last fiber of her being was concentrated on grasping that speck of gold, triumphantly holding it in her hand. With a last burst of speed, she bumped the opposing Seeker's hand out of the way, and snatched the snitch.

The stadium exploded with thunderous whoops, whistles, and claps. Ginny could not see herself, but she was sure that she was smiling too widely to fit her face. People swarmed onto the field like ants, running up and hugging team members, chanting, and lifting people onto their shoulders. As Ginny watched the golden Quidditch Cup being placed into her hands, heard people screaming their throats raw, and felt the hands of her teammates on her shoulders, she realized something.

Although she was on the ground, she was still flying.

The End