Storm Clouds

Clipping The Eagles' Wings

**~**~**~**~**~**

October gave way to November, and winter settled in with an icy grip. It was the coldest Harry could ever remember it being at Hogwarts. Even the blazing fires in the Great Hall hardly seemed to dispel the chill. He half expected to see icicles forming on the banisters.

It also meant that the first Quidditch match of the season would be played in hostile conditions. Harry woke up that morning to an iron frost and glowering skies that promised more snow before the day was out. He was more nervous about this match then he had ever been before. Not only was it his first match as captain, but Professor McGonagall had suspended George for the game, the result of a prank in class that had backfired. Her hair was still lime green when she spoke to Harry about it.

That meant that Ginny would take to the skies beside Fred as a Beater. She looked even more nervous then Ron, who was terrified of his first game as Keeper. Neither of them spoke at breakfast, and they both ate very little.

On the way to the pitch Harry walked beside Ginny. "Cat got your tongue?" he asked, nudging her in the ribs.

"I'm afraid if I open my mouth I'll throw up," she replied, speaking out of the corner of her mouth. Her face was so pale her freckles stood out glaringly.

Harry laughed. "I know the feeling." Ginny glared at him. "Relax, Gin. We're playing Ravenclaw today. Just think of this as another tryout, and you'll be fine."

Ginny breathed in deeply and let the air out slowly. A little colour returned to her face. "I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine." She spoke softly to herself, as one would to a frightened child. When she met Harry's eyes she was smiling. "I'm fine, really. I'll make it."

"Sure?" She nodded once. "Then maybe you can help Ron," Harry said. "He looks on the verge of fainting."

Ginny glanced at her brother and with a grin walked over to him. She took his arm and started chatting with him, pulling him along with her. Harry was unable to make out her words, but whatever she was saying was having an effect. Some colour returned to Ron's face and he even smiled once. Ginny looked back and gave Harry a wink before they entered the changing room. He was about to follow when he heard a voice calling his name. He turned and saw Morgan approaching; she was dressed in black and white robes like Madame Hooch habitually wore when refereeing matches.

"I just wanted to wish you luck today, Harry," Morgan said, extending her hand to be shaken. "Your first game as captain. . . Are you nervous?"

Harry shook his head. "A little. Not as bad as I expected it to be."

"Well, if it makes you feel at all better I'll be out there, helping Madame Hooch with the officiating. I think she's happy to have another qualified referee on the staff."

"It'll help more when we pay Slytherin."

Morgan grinned. "Some things never change, I guess," she said. She grew serious again. "Harry, I know that quite a few bombs have been dropped on you recently, but you need to try and forget all that and just concentrate on the match." She glanced at the people milling around them and lowered her voice. "I have reason to believe that someone is not everything they seem to be, so we need for things to be as normal as possible."

It took a moment for Morgan's words to sink in. "You think there's a spy at Hogwarts?" Harry asked. "How can you know?"

"One of the Guardian's powers is empathy; the ability to read the emotions of the people around you. Someone is hiding a rather large secret. I can practically smell the nervousness in the air."

"Do you know who it is?"

"Not yet, but I will," Morgan replied, her face grim and set. "You can bank on that." She gave Harry a gentle nudge toward the door. "Get going, Potter. Your team is waiting for you."

They were indeed. Harry changed into his Quidditch robes quickly, and then went into the main room. The team watched him expectantly, waiting for whatever words of wisdom he would deliver. His mind was a complete blank.

"Ummm, I'm no match for Oliver in the pep talk department. . ."

"Thank God," Katie mumbled under her breath, drawing a laugh from the rest.

Harry grinned. "All I can say is let's just get out there and play like we always have. This is our match to win or lose." He paused, and when no one else spoke he gave a sharp nod. "Let's play."

**~**~**~**~**~**

"And Johnson takes the Quaffle - passes to Bell - back to Johnson - Ravenclaw Chaser Corner attempts the steal - great Bludger work there from Weasley, Fred - Spinnet with the Quaffle - she shoots - SCORE!!!!!!"

Cheers erupted from the Gryffindor end of the stands, and Harry did a quick fly-by in celebration. The first twenty minutes or so of the match had been rough; Ron had been so nervous he had let four goals in. He seemed to have settled down, though, as nothing had gotten past him since. Alicia's goal tied the score at forty.

Harry was flying high above the main match, as was his habit, with his ears tuned into Lee Jordan's commentary and his eyes on the lookout for any sign of the Snitch. He could hear Cho behind him, and every so often she flew out ahead of him, searching for the Snitch on her own. She did so now, her face set in concentration, her eyes moving constantly.

"And Ravenclaw has control of the Quaffle - Boot passes to Davies; Davies lost his captaincy to Seeker Chang this year; can't blame the team, she's much better looking. . . ."

"JORDAN!!!!!" Professor McGonagall's voice echoed through the stadium.

"And Davies passes back to Boot, who shovel passes to Corner. . ." Lee's commentary continued without a break; he was, after all, quite good at ignoring McGonagall. "Corner with the Quaffle - he beats Johnson, he beats Spinnet, dodges a Bludger; nice shooting Ginny! - he shoots - BLOCKED! What a save by Ron Weasley!"

The cheers rose again, interspersed with groans from the Ravenclaws. Harry didn't spare any time for celebrating, because a glint of gold near the center Gryffindor goalpost had caught his attention. He squinted hard, trying to get a better look. . . It was the Snitch! He bent flat over his Firebolt and took off toward the end, his eyes pinned on the tiny flutter of wings. He could only vaguely hear the excited shouts coming from the stands; all of his attention was focused on the capture.

WHACK!!!!

The Bludger hurtled through the air, making a beeline for Harry. He managed to swerve out of the way just in time, but in those precious few seconds the Snitch had disappeared. Angry, he pulled himself around and came face to face with Cho. She was smiling, but smugly. Harry all but snarled as he sped past her, heading back up the pitch. He passed Ginny in the air, but other then a quick thumbs-up sign she didn't acknowledge him. He took a moment to get his temper back under control, knowing that he was useless to the team in his current state.

"And Referee Griffith blows the whistle on an infraction - looks like roughing the Keeper against Ravenclaw - keep breathing Ron, you'll get your wind back eventually - that'll be a penalty shot for Gryffindor - Angelina Johnson takes the Quaffle - fakes left - SCORE!!!!!!"

With the score now fifty to forty in Gryffindor's favour the snow that had been threatening all morning finally started to fall. Slowly at first, but it quickly became thicker and fell faster. Harry did a quick Impervius charm on his glasses. It was now urgent that the match end as quickly as possible. With two relatively untried players on the Gryffindor team he didn't like the idea of low visibility and difficult conditions.

"Davies takes the Quaffle - passes to Corner; Corner new to the Ravenclaw team this year - Corner fakes back to Davies and drop passes to Boot - Boot dodges a bludger - dodges Chaser Bell of Gryffindor - and its Bell with the Quaffle!! What a steal by Katie Bell! She passes to Spinnet - to Johnson - to Bell - Bell bounce passes off of Fred Weasley's back - Johnson takes the Quaffle - loops past the goal - tosses to Spinnet - SCORE!!!!!!"

Sixty to forty in favour of Gryffindor, and the snow was still thickening. It would be difficult to see the Snitch in the swirling whiteness.

Just as the thought passed through Harry's mind he caught sight of it, hovering close to the ground just behind the Gryffindor goalposts. And Cho had already seen it.

She was streaking in a reckless dive towards the ground, angling towards the goals. Her Cleansweep broom was shuddering violently; it wasn't used to that sort of stress. Harry felt a rush of adrenaline to his system, and he kicked his Firebolt around and took off down the pitch, eyes locked on the tiny, golden ball.

The blow was so unexpected, and it was that, more then the pain, that made Harry stop. He had felt it - Lord knows he had felt it - but it was his surprise that brought his forward motion to a halt. The pain came an instant later.

The Bludger had struck him in the back. A part of his mind registered the sound of splintering bone as his shoulderblade shattered, even while the rest of it was still concentrating on catching the Snitch. Blackness started to close in on him; the last thing he heard was someone shouting Wingardium Leviosa before the whole world disappeared in darkness.

**~**~**~**~**~**

Light. Light flaring against his eyelids. A light that seemed to have a life of its own.

Harry returned slowly to consciousness. His eyes were briefly dazzled by the light of the torches in the hospital wing before he closed them again with a short sigh. The soft sound was enough. Ginny slipped from the chair beside his bed, taking his hand in hers.

"Harry? Harry? Come on, I know you're awake. Just open your eyes."

"I'd really rather not, thanks."

Ginny sighed in relief and gave a small laugh. "Well, you've retained your sense of humour, at least."

Harry finally opened his eyes fully. Everything was slightly blurry; Ginny passed him his glasses first thing. He was surprised to see that she was still in her Quidditch uniform.

Quidditch! The last thing he remembered was pelting towards the Snitch before blacking out. "What happened? In the match?"

Ginny all but growled her answer. "That cruddy Beater, Miller, blind-sided you. Madame Hooch was furious. He's been suspended for the rest of the year for deliberate harm to an opposing player."

Harry was thoughtful for a moment. "I fell off my broom, didn't I?"

Ginny nodded. "Morgan levitated you to stop your fall till the end of the match." She grinned. "It was a little strange, seeing you just hanging in the air like that. Once it was all over she lowered you to the ground and Madame Pomfrey took over from there."

"But did we win?" When Ginny nodded Harry went on. "But who caught the Snitch?"

"I did."

"You?"

"Yes, me. I do have some skill at flying, you know."

"But what happened?" Harry asked. "How could we have won? Didn't we get called for a Snitchnip?"

Ginny shook her head. "Not after what happened to you. Like I said, Madame Hooch was furious." She paused for a minute, grinning. "I knocked a Bludger at Miller and then took off after the Snitch. I didn't think I'd make it, but Fred's timing was perfect. I don't think Cho even saw it coming." Ginny's smile grew wider as she held her hand out. "Here. I kept it. My first capture."

She opened her hand and Harry saw that the Snitch was nestled in her palm, its wings folded. There was a brief pause before it came to life, spreading its wings and taking off. It buzzed around the hospital wing, its gold and silver catching the light from the many torches. Harry felt a smile cross his face as he watched.

"Thanks, Gin."

"For what?"

"For doing such a good job of cheering me up."

"You're just happy that we won your first game as captain," Ginny said, but she was smiling as she did so.

"I don't deny it," Harry replied, a matching smile on his face. "But you helped make that win, and you're the one who's here right now. That's important to me."

Ginny's smile faded as she glanced about. "I convinced the others to leave because I wanted to talk to you. About this Guardian of the Phoenix business."

"Why? Is something wrong?" Harry asked, sitting up in the bed and wincing at the pain in his shoulder.

Ginny pushed him back onto the pillows. "No, nothing is wrong. I've just had the wierdest feeling all day. Like I'm nervous and jittery about something."

"Gin, you were nervous and jittery. It was your first Quiddithc match, remember?" Harry couldn't help but remind her.

"It was more than that! Like a jumpy, constantly-glancing-over-your-shoulder sort of nervous. And the guilt. . . ." Ginny's face took on a far-away look. "It was almost overwhelming, and I know it didn't have anyhting to do with me. Does that make any sense?"

"Actually, it does. At a guess I'd say it's the first sign of the power of empathy. A power that the Guardian has." And Harry proceeded to tell Ginny about his brief conversation with Morgan before the match.

"So she's on to something?" Ginny asked. When Harry nodded she sat in thoughtlful silence for a moment. "I wonder if the other girls have felt anything?"

"I wonder if empathy is one of the powers that distinguish the future Guardian or if it's a power granted when she becomes the Guardian."

"It's a power that distinguishes a future Guardian."

Both Harry and Ginny started. Ginny whipped around to face the door of the ward. Morgan stood there, still in her referee robes and wrist guards.

"And at a guess, Ginny, I'd say that makes you the current front-runner for the job." Morgan sat on the bed beside Harry's and gestured for Ginny to join her. "Although if the truth be told I've always felt that you were a step or two ahead of the other girls."

"Why?" Harry asked before Ginny could open her mouth.

"Because you were born in the time of Alban Hefin."

"The time of what?"

"The summer solstice. The longest day of the year. A time when the power of the sun is at its height. In other words, a time when the powers of darkness are on the wane."

"The powers of darkness. . ." Ginny mused. "Including the powers of dark magic?"

Morgan nodded. "Absolutely. Which is why the solstice is an important time for the powers of good. In ancient times it was the one day of the year that white magic was strongest."

"So you figure that most likely makes me your successor?"

"It had you at the top of the list, yes," Morgan said. "And now you're showing signs of the power of empathy? Straight to the head of the class, Guinevere."

Ginny grew silent, but her jaw was set in a fashion that Harry knew well from all his time spent with the Weasley clan. It could only be described as mutinous.

"What if I don't want the job?" she asked finally.

"If you're meant for the job, Ginny, you won't have a whole lot of choice." When Ginny simply shrugged and continued to glower Morgan angrily continued. "For pity's sake, do you think anyone really wants this job? Do you think I wanted it? If you ask me you should be bloody grateful that there are three other girls that it might be. I didn't have that comfort. Plus I knew that trutth of who and what I was expected to be by the time I was ten years old. Ten! So please do not pull a self-pity act on me."

Ginny flushed to the roots of her hair and looked appropriately chastened. Harry was surprised at Morgan's reaction. He had grown accustomed to seeing her always calm and collected, so this display of emotion was a bit of a shock. She quickly recovered herself, however, and when she next spoke she sounded like her usual self.

"Getting back to the whole empathy question. . . Ginny, I need you to think back on those feelings and try to narrow them down. Do you remember when they were the strongest? Where you were when you felt them the most?"

Ginny closed her eyes. Harry could tell that she was replaying the match in her head, concentrating on what she had felt out there, trying to pinpoint the emotions. Her eyes snapped open.

"It was always in the same place. The staff and guest stands," was her answer when she spoke.

"Can you remember who was sitting there?" Morgan asked.

Ginny's face took on a faraway expression. "Professor Flitwick was there with some Ravenclaw parents; Michael Corner's father among them. Professors Sinistra and Vector, and. . ."

"Professor Snape," Harry finished the list, his voice tense.

Morgan gave Harry a steady look, her eyes appraising. He met her gaze without flinching; the mutual emnity between himself and Snape was hardly a secret at Hogwarts. And he had no intention of disguising the fact that he distrusted the Potions master. That was one subject that he most definitely disagreed with Professor Dumbledore on.

"You don't trust Snape, do you Harry?" Morgan asked.

"Did your power of empathy tell you that?" he snapped, angry at the idea that she would use her powers on him.

"Yes and no," Morgan replied. "No, because I can see it in your face as clearly as if it were written there. Yes, because a long time ago my empathic power told me how Snape felt about James. He feels no different towards you."

"Then why should I trust him? He tarred me with the same brush as my father the moment I walked into his classroom! He never once gave me a chance!"

"I'm not asking you to trust him. Not personally, at any rate. But I do want you to understand one thing. Whether you believe it or not is up to you."

"Really? And what is that one thing?"

"There are two people in this world whose trust Severus Snape would never betray," Morgan replied. "One of them is Professor Dumbledore. . ." Her voice trailed off and a flush rose in her cheeks.

"And the other?" Ginny asked, her voice almost a whisper.

"Me."