A Reflection of Himself

Chapter Fifteen

Harry was sitting among his friends during breakfast at the Gryffindor table, helping himself to seconds of the delicious meal that consisted of sausage links, pancakes and maple syrup, and poached eggs. It was a Saturday in mid-November, the day that marked the Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match. Harry was looking forward to the game, hoping that it would be a distraction from everything that had occurred since the start of his sixth year at Hogwarts. As the new Captain for his team, he had been having more practices for the Gryffindors, preparing them as best as he could for the upcoming match. Soon enough, the day had come.

He knew that he would need his energy, so that was primarily the reason for his large appetite... that, and the simple fact that he was a sixteen-year-old boy who had an appetite much larger than that of the average person. Perhaps the only person at the table with Harry who seemed hungrier was Ron, who must have been on his third helping. Hermione, on the other hand, rolled her eyes at what she thought the insane absurdity of the seeming race of seeing who could consume the most food in the shortest period of time without promptly regurgitating it all afterwards.

When Harry had finished eating breakfast, he rounded up the rest of the Gryffindor team and headed toward the pitch. As they walked across the grounds, the chilly air blew, tousling Harry's already unruly hair. Most of the trees were bare and now moved eerily back and forth in the unsettled wind. Before long, snow would be covering the ground, for winter was always long in northern Scotland.

Harry blinked as the wind blew, and he wondered if the weather would affect the playing conditions. Surely they wouldn't dare cancel the game, at least Harry certainly hoped not. After all, he had played in pouring rain before, so what was a bit of wind? His red Quidditch robes billowing behind him, Harry stopped once he reached the playing field and turned to face the rest of the team.

"All right, then," he addressed them. "You all know the drill. Let's show them what we've got, what we've been working extra hard for these past few weeks. Let's go in there and take this win. What d'you say?"

He was trying his best to give them the typical pep talk before any match as their Captain, but with the relentless wind howling mercilessly all around them, it was difficult for the others to hear Harry's words. His little speech was followed with a few nods, but Harry couldn't help but to wonder if the less experienced players on the team would be able to handle playing in this wind. He certainly hoped so... for his sake as much as theirs.

Just as Harry was about to lead his team onto the field for the start of the game, he suddenly heard a very familiar voice behind him sneer, "Well, if it isn't famous Potty-Pants and his little Weasel friend, the esteemed King from last year."

Harry turned around and came face-to-face with none other than Draco Malfoy. Dressed in his Slytherin green robes and holding his Nimbus Two Thousand and One firmly in his right hand, the platinum-blonde, pale blue-eyed, pointy-featured nemesis of Harry Potter glared at him icily. Rolling his eyes, Harry replied, "You think your pathetic attempts at threatening my team will get you that long overdue win for Slytherin, Malfoy?"

"That's not the point," Malfoy said haughtily. "I bet you think you're all high and mighty now that you're the new Captain, eh, Potter? Well, you're got another thing coming. I don't need to say anything, really, for we're bound to win this one, easy, especially considering the fact that most of your team is nothing but a bunch of newbies, some of which were simply fill ins for your team last year... Or have you forgotten, Potter, how you were thrown off the team last year for your little... outburst?"

"You deserved every hit I gave you," Harry murmured in a menacingly low voice. "No one talks about my mother the way you did, Malfoy."

Malfoy fixed Harry with a hard glare and turned on his heel, but as he walked away, he yelled, "If you ask me, you should have stayed permanently kicked off the team!"

Harry chose to ignore any other remarks from Malfoy, so, turning to face his team once again, he led them to the middle of the field. High above them on all sides were the stands, which were filled to the brim with cheering students. The Gryffindors were calling wildly as their team entered the playing field, and the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were cheering them on as well. Only the Slytherins booed them, but once the Slytherin team joined the middle of the field, several cheers came from the Slytherin section.

Madam Hooch then came to stand between the two teams. As team Captains, Harry and the Slytherin captain, Montague, stood on either side of Hooch to her immediate right and left. She raised her arms and instructed them to mount their brooms, which they all did right away. She promptly blew her silver whistle and released the Quaffle into the air. Hooch included, fifteen brooms rose high up into the air, and the game began.

Now as the team Captain, Harry would have to keep an eye on his fellow teammates more. When his sole job had been that of Seeker, Oliver Wood had told Harry to just look for the Golden Snitch. Flying higher above the other players, Harry allowed his gaze to move across the five hundred foot long pitch. On the other end near the goal hoops, Ron was guarding the scoring area, ready to make the necessary move. From up high, the wind was even worse than it had been on the ground, and as he flew around, Harry could barely hear the announcer's voice as he gave the game commentary. He squinted his eyes at the new announcer who had replaced Lee Jordan from the previous years, but Harry didn't recognize him... at least he couldn't tell who he was from such a great distance.

"Ginny Weasley takes the Quaffle... It looks like she's positioned to score... and she- wait... It's blocked by Slytherin Keeper Bletchley. Montague takes the Quaffle... What's this? Oh, no... It's the Hawkshead Attacking Formation... Montague is joined by Chasers Baddock and Prichard... They're coming in hard... and- it looks like Gryffindor Beater Sloper is trying to intercede... Oh, the Bludger misses. Montague comes in close... Ron Weasley makes the move to block and... Slytherin scores. That's ten points to Slytherin... C'mon, Weasley! Show them what you've got! Those slimey Slytherins haven't got a chance!"

"Hem-hem," Professor McGonagall said, clearing her throat at the announcer. "Keep your personal feelings out of the commentary, will you, Jordan? Honestly, your older brother was just as bad."

"Yes, Professor," the younger Jordan replied and then continued with the commentary. "Looks like Crabbe and Goyle... (even though they're so thick)... aren't making it easy for new Gryffindor Chasers Natalie McDonald and Dennis Creevey. Looks like Natalie's got the Quaffle... Kirke and Sloper are... oh, what's this? Blown off course?"

The wind suddenly picked up in a very strong gale, causing the two Gryffindor Beaters to loose their concentration and course. Natalie struggled to hold onto the Quaffle as the wind whipped around her, and despite the efforts of Ginny and Dennis, she dropped it, and Baddock from Slytherin took it and scored another ten points for Slytherin.

Harry furrowed his brow in frustration. He muttered, "C'mon, Ron... You showed them what you had last year... Surely you can do it again..."

He then gazed around the field again for the Snitch and noticed that Malfoy was focusing his eyes on an area far off to the left. Suddenly, the Slytherin Seeker made a mad dive for something, and suddenly, Harry saw it! The Golden Snitch! He took his attention off of his team, hoping that they would be able to manage, and began moving as fast as he could toward the area that Malfoy was headed. Harry rode his Firebolt like he never had before, and as he closed in on the area, he glared at Malfoy and continued to race ahead of him. The Firebolt was the fastest broom of any, and not even Malfoy's Nimbus Two Thousand and One could compete.

Try as he might, Malfoy couldn't catch up to Harry, and as Harry closed his hand securely over the Golden Snitch, he made a tight fist and landed, holding it up in victory. He truly felt like he was glowing... like a part of him had come alive again after months of being so down.

"Harry Potter proves his amazing abilities once again!" the announcer bellowed happily. "He's caught the Golden Snitch, earning Gryffindor one hundred and fifty points! Gryffindor wins, one hundred and fifty to twenty!"

Harry beamed as the crowded cheered. In one hand, he still held the Snitch, but in the other hand, he held the broom that had helped bring him to victory yet again. It wasn't the first time the Firebolt had proven its worth, but something was different this time. Harry couldn't quite place it, but as he stood there, everyone rushing toward him, he felt like Sirius was alive again as well. In some way, the Firebolt that Sirius had given to Harry during his third year at Hogwarts reminded Harry of his late godfather. It had brought him victory so valiantly, so loyally...

"Thank you, Sirius," Harry whispered.

Hermione rushed up to Harry and squeezed him tightly, exclaiming, "Well done, Harry! Congratulations!"

Hagrid was there as well, smiling heartily at his young friend. He gave Harry a rough, affectionate pat on the back and said, "Yeh've made me proud yet again, Harry. Tha' was amazin' wha' you did out there today! Yer a true Seeker, Harry; that you are!"

Harry expressed his most heartfelt thanks of appreciation toward his friends. The rest of his team was happy for him as well, but something about their spirits seemed lacking. Once the stands had emptied, Harry stood with his fellow teammates.

"That was a good game, everyone," he told them, but they didn't seem too convinced.

When they all remained silent, Harry prodded, "What's wrong?"

Ron was the first to speak. "It's you, Harry... It's always been you. Without you, we would've been clobbered out there. I couldn't even block..."

"Ron-" Harry tried to say.

"No, he's right, Harry," Natalie agreed. "Look what I did... I dropped the Quaffle... How embarrassing..."

A few other words of discontentment were mumbled among the Gryffindor team, but before Harry could speak, they had walked away, save for Ginny. She took a step closer to Harry and regarded him intently.

"Harry," she began softly, "it's great having you back on the team and all... They- they're just new, you know? I mean, when I played Seeker last year in your place, I knew I'd never be able to compete with you..."

"Compete with me?" Harry asked, aghast. "Is that what this is all about? Is that why they're so... I don't know... mad at me?"

"They're not mad at you, Harry," Ginny explained. "It's just that, well, seeing how you fly so well... It's quite intimidating for anyone, even your own teammates."

Harry nodded slowly, trying to let the words sink in, but they didn't want to settle. Hadn't they just won? Shouldn't they be happy?

"Ginny," Harry whispered, "what am I supposed to do? I mean, they- they wouldn't want to be in my shoes... living my life? No... no, they wouldn't, not if they really knew me. I know Ron understands, at least."

"I understand, too," Ginny replied earnestly, stepping closer to him. "I mean, I try to understand. I was there with you last year when... when everything happened at the Ministry. Harry, we care about you. We're your friends, and you should know that you're not alone."

Harry sat down on the damp ground and placed his head in his hands. He rubbed his temples, trying to clear his head. He sighed.

"I know, Ginny," he croaked. "And thank you. I guess... I guess I just haven't been doing such a great job as Captain as I should be... I've been rather... distracted."

"What are you talking about?" Ginny asked, sitting down next to him. "You've been doing a great job as Captain. We've been practicing really hard ever since the school year started. As for distractions... well, is this a distraction?"

She leaned into him and brought her lips to his, where she kissed him. Unlike the kiss Ginny had given him at the end of tryouts, this kiss was deeper and more passionate. Harry found himself bringing his hands to her cheeks and caressing her softly, and he leaned into that kiss more and more, giving into it, wanting to forget that the world around him even existed. After several long moments, they pulled away from each other just enough to be able to breathe. Harry was so close to Ginny that he could see the flecks of green and amber in her light brown eyes. He noticed every little freckle that decorated her eyelids and the areas underneath her beautiful eyes. He smiled and brought his hand to her vibrant red hair, stroking it gently.

"That was... amazing," he breathed.

Ginny smiled and giggled, shaking her head.

"What's so funny?" Harry questioned, confused.

"You are."

"Why is that?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "I guess... I guess this whole thing is just a bit funny. I mean, I'm sure you know how much I fancied you when I was a young girl, but then, I tried going out with so many different guys, but in the end, you know, I never felt settled."

"Ginny," Harry smiled, "you hardly need to worry about settling. You're fifteen years old!"

"I know, I know," she replied hastily. "It's not that. It's just that... well, you were my first crush, Harry, and here it is, years later, and you are still the one... I want."

Harry blinked a couple of times, not sure he was really hearing this. His mind quickly raced back to the previous year when he had tried dating Cho Chang and how disconcerting it had been to have Cho cry at him over Cedric. He certainly didn't want to be placed in another awkward situation with a girl who was only interested in him because he was the Famous Harry Potter.

"Are- are you certain, Ginny?" Harry hesitated.

"Of course I am," she replied firmly, looking at him very sternly, much in the way her mother would have. When Weasley women had their mind made up about something, there was no changing it.

"Okay, okay," Harry laughed, "but don't give me that look. It's rather scary, really."

Ginny giggled. "You're something else, Harry Potter. To everyone else, you might be the Famous Boy Who Lived, but to me, well, you're just Harry, and I quite like you, Harry."

"Well, that's a good place to start," Harry teased. "I wouldn't want you going out with me if you didn't like me."

Ginny affectionately shoved him and then stood up. She glanced back at the castle, saying, "It's nearing dinnertime. Perhaps we ought to head back."

"Yes," Harry nodded. "It would be of no surprise to you if I told you I was hungry, so I won't."

Harry stood up and locked hands with Ginny, and together, they walked back to Hogwarts.

"I'm hungry, too," she teased.