and i think mystica has written very well
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Thanks for the reviews! Chapter 2 is up a bit earlier than expected...Here you go...
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Chapter 2
On a windy day let's go flying
There may be no trees to rest on
There may be no clouds to ride
But we'll have our wings and the wind will be with us
That's enough for me, that's enough for me.
— Yoko Ono, "Song For John"
A pale hand stretched out ominously, hovering close – too close. Cold wind slapped Harry's face as he reached out and grabbed the snitch and swooped under Malfoy, holding his hand up high to show that they had won the match. All of a sudden, the snitch disappeared and he was soaked by rain from a stormy thundercloud.
"Wake up Harry! Do you want to miss Quidditch Practice?" Ron asked in an amused voice. Harry opened his eyes and realized that he was soaking wet. Ron was already dressed in his Quidditch robes and was holding his Cleansweep Seven in one hand and…a watering can in the other. Harry stared at him for a moment before he took his dripping pillow and threw it at Ron, who neatly dodged it.
"Come on, mate. It won't do any good for Gryffindor's new Quidditch Captain himself to be late at the Tryouts," he pointed out. Recognizing the wisdom in the advice, Harry threw on his robes, grabbed his Firebolt and rushed to the Quidditch Pitch with Ron. Becoming Quidditch Captain was something Harry had been looking forward to for a very long time.
His trainers made a squishing sound as he raced across the dewy green pitch. No one was there. A moment later, they both saw a somewhat dispersed group of students coming in slowly through the other entrance. "Made it!" Ron panted slightly. "Why on earth did you book the pitch so early, Harry?" Harry plopped down on the grass. "Completely booked. Snape made sure that the Slytherins got the best time for tryouts," he explained.
Both of them waited in silence as the chattering students came to a halt and stood uncertainly, their gazes on Harry. There were two nervous second years, whom Harry did not know by name. Dennis Creevy was flashing him a wide grin and next to Dennis stood Ginny who stifled a slight yawn before giving Harry and Ron a little wave. Ron frowned as he noticed Dean Thomas standing close to Ginny. Seamus Finnigan had also shown up along with some athletic fifth year girls who were giggling as he cracked a joke.
"All right then," Harry said, his heart thumping slightly with nervousness. "We'll have a practice match of sorts. There are only three spots available for the Chasers. Lets begin!" Within minutes, Harry noticed that Dean and Seamus were no good and both of them were sent off in a hurry. Ginny was excellent; her vivid flame-coloured hair flew behind her as she expertly dodged Ron to make a goal.
Harry felt his stomach make an odd somersault as she threw the Quaffle into one of the hoops and laughed at Ron who was fuming because he'd missed the catch. The feeling wasn't painful or pleasant… it was just different. Not entirely comfortable, Harry continued with the next person after putting a checkmark besides Ginny's name.
An hour later, Harry and Ron had a quick conference with the two Beaters and they chose the three Chasers – Ginny, a fifth year girl named Eliza Prewett and a second year named Tom Mackinshaw. Thanking everyone else for coming, Harry followed his team members into the changing room and they all trooped back to the castle. "Ginny was brilliant, wasn't she?" asked Ron, feeling proud of his little sister. "Yeah, she was really good," Harry replied, his heart beating slightly again. This time he knew it wasn't from nervousness though.
"Let's go find Hermione," he said, changing the subject. "We're not speaking," Ron said abruptly, his cheeks reddening. Harry was surprised. "But, you were talking yesterday night…" his voice trailed off as he remembered the subject of their discussion. "She's gone mental about bloody SPEW!" Ron exclaimed. "She kept saying that we have to do more about the elves. She told me that if I ever went into the kitchens again to ask them for food, she would never speak to me again!"
Harry had an idea of what Ron's reply to such an ultimatum would be. "An odd bird, isn't she?" Ron went on, now quite willing to continue after getting warmed up. Harry tried to stifle a yawn as they reached the common room. "Harry, did you remember to marinate the rat-tails for the Draught of…Harry? Harry! HARRY!" Ron grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out of the way of the Bloody Baron who was giving both of them a ghastly look.
"You almost fell asleep there; are you all right?" Ron asked, his face worried. Harry yawned loudly this time. He could barely keep his eyes open. "I'm taking you to the dorm, mate! Good thing that it's a Sunday!" The last thing Harry remembered was Ron helping him up the stairs and that he had a splitting headache.
Ginny's eyes were narrowed in concentration. She dived down…ten feet, twenty feet, forty feet…she hovered for a split second before her Cleansweep Seven died out. Losing control of the broom, she rolled onto the soft grass of the pitch, feeling annoyed and thankful that no one else had seen her. "Would have been impressive, Weasley…if you hadn't landed on your rear end," a voice called out.
She stifled a groan of frustration. Of all the people in the world, he was the last person she wanted to confront. Whipping out her wand, she whirled around to face Draco Malfoy who was sitting alone in the stands, his pale hair immaculately in place in spite of the slight breeze. He got up and walked toward her, looking warily at her wand. "You can put that down – I don't bite"
Ginny kept her wand up. "What do you want, Malfoy?" His blond eyebrows arched up innocently and he said, "I just wanted to know if you wanted a little one-on-one match?" His lips were turning up in a hint of a smile. Ginny was not only puzzled, but now entirely suspicious. "I didn't know that losing to Gryffindor was a hobby of yours, Malfoy," she sneered.
For an instant she thought she saw a shadow of rage and pain in his grey eyes. But the moment passed so quickly, she couldn't be sure. He gave her a challenging look and swung a leg over his Nimbus 2001. "Scared, Weasley?" he asked. Ginny grabbed hold of her broom and mounted it. "You wish!" she snapped back, her cheeks flushing angrily. She was about to grab a Quaffle, when he said, "No, no…not that...we're going to have a little one-on-one seeking match," he said, removing a Snitch from his pocket and releasing it in the air.
They stared at each other for a second before zooming after golden ball. Ginny found the chase difficult with the Cleansweep. Determined not to lose this one, she leaned low over the broom handle and plunged downward. The Snitch appeared to be a bit tired and fluttering near the grass near one of the goal posts. She could feel Malfoy right next to her.
Suddenly he gave her a hard push from the side. Her training reflexes came into play as she hung onto her broom and viciously shoved him with her elbow. Their hands reached out as they both grabbed the Snitch at the same time. Ginny was just an instant quicker as she caught hold of the cool, shimmering ball and held it tightly in her grip. She zoomed upward, did a little loop and came back down to where Malfoy was hovering, his face pink with rage and embarrassment.
What she didn't expect however, was a stiff "Congratulations," which came out quietly from him. "You aren't too shabby for a Weasley," he said coolly, leaving Ginny gaping in shock as he left the grounds to head back to the castle. She frowned thoughtfully. Was Malfoy changing?
To be continued...
If you've managed to reach till this sentence - thanks for reading and not nodding off! 😆
R & R plz!
Sorry for being so horribly late...I was updating a paragraph or two only per day as I was so busy with exams and my job.
Anyway, here's the next chapter...I was in a particularly shippy mood for this one...😳 A treat for all you Ron/Herm and Harry/Ginny shippers.
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Chapter 3
The man awakes, the adolescent is going.
Who knows where their paths will take them,
if they ever cross or meet again, or whether they will continue down
the same journey together for a while longer.
I live in a state of flux, not knowing, not being sure, and yet,
I know there is something there.
- Ted Liguz, "Awakening"
The Apparating lessons were harder than he thought they would be. Pointing his wand towards his solar plexus, Ron concentrated hard before yelling out the incantation. His body warmed up in a rush of heat; it was sort of like traveling with Floo, but much quicker. Before he knew it, his feet touched solid ground again and he didn't have to cling onto a chimney wall for support. "That was good, Weasley," Professor McGonagall said. Ron beamed. "Good" was a high accolade in McGonagall's vocabulary.
Harry appeared a minute later; his face was pale and his eyes had a raccoon-like tint around them. Ron wondered what was happening to his friend. He had an eerie suspicion that Harry was sleep-walking – once when he had awoken in the middle of the night, Harry's bed was empty – as if no one had really slept in it. At the moment, Harry grinned at him, looking more like his usual self now that he had succeeded in disapparating successfully.
"Brilliant, wasn't it?" he asked. Harry nodded. "Sure beats Occlumency, I bet," Ron whispered conspiratorially then immediately regretted saying it. Harry was no longer smiling. "Thanks for reminding me, Ron," he muttered bitterly. "Thanks for reminding me that I killed Sirius by not paying attention in Occlumency!" Ron bit his lip, feeling uncomfortable and horrified. Harry had never talked in detail about Sirius' death. Ron's own memories were hazy and confusing. His body still bore the marks of the brain which had attacked him, but that was it; he didn't remember the rest.
"Where is Miss Granger?" asked Professor McGonagall looking a bit surprised and even irritated. Ron looked around and was equally astonished to observe that almost every student had reappeared. Even Neville had come back … or rather parts of Neville…he was the only student who had managed to splinch himself – he was missing an arm and a leg. But Hermione was missing. "Longbottom, I told you to concentrate!" snapped McGonagall, her lips thinning to a razor sharp line. "Weasley, since you're the first person to have mastered the apparating technique, kindly go and see what is taking Miss Granger so long," she spat out over her shoulder as she went off to tend to Neville.
Ron felt that he could have kissed McGonagall on the spot, lips or no lips. Highly relieved at being rescued from an unfortunate situation, he spared one last glance towards Harry who was glaring out the window of the classroom. "Sorry mate," he whispered quickly, "but you're being too hard on yourself." Then he hurried out of the room before Harry could respond or before McGonagall could make him the target of her sharp tongue.
Once outside the classroom, he concentrated hard and apparated to the empty Charms classroom, which was two rooms away. There he found Hermione bent over Advanced Transfiguration, her forehead furrowed in a frown. For some reason, she looked oddly… sweet… as she muttered something about the "stupid spell" being "worse than riding a broomstick!" He wondered if he was going a bit mad. This was Hermione. His friend. She didn't just want to be your friend, a sly voice told him in his head.
Oh Shut up! Ron said to it. Hermione looked up in shock. "Sorry Ron, but even I can be inept at something you know," she said sarcastically. "There was no need to be so rude and tell me to shut up." His face flushed mercilessly. Cursing his pale complexion, he realized that he must have spoken out aloud and quickly stammered an explanation. "It wasn't you I was talking to…I was just…McGonagall sent me here toseewawazkeepinou," he finished in a rush.
Hermione blinked. "One word at a time, please," she said, her voice softening slightly. Ron cleared his throat, his voice feeling oddly thick. "McGonagall sent me to see what was keeping you," he managed. "Oh its this stupid spell," she muttered in exasperation. "I can't seem to get the hang of it!" Ron sat down in front of her. "Try it again," he said. Hermione pursed her lips, looking like a younger and prettier (Ron's ears turned pink at that thought) version of McGonagall.
Pointing her wand in the centre of her robes, she shouted out the incantation. However, Ron noticed, that her eyes were screwed up and that her face turned a bit pale as she did this. "You're scared and you're holding the wand wrong," he said immediately. Brown eyes snapped open and shot sparks at him. "Its like riding a broom," he said hurriedly. "You have to be confident while saying it." Hermione slumped, looking defeated.
"I'm afraid of getting splinched; what if I don't do it right?" she said in a small voice. Neville's disembodied arm and leg were still floating around next to her. Ron winced as he saw them. "Don't worry, Hermione! If I could do it, you certainly can - you're the cleverest witch in our year!" Hermione looked up at him and smiled weakly. "You think too little of yourself, Ron," she said softly.
Before he could inevitably lose himself in…er…other thoughts, Ron started instructing her on how to hold her wand properly. "No, you do it like this, Hermione," he said, feeling a bit annoyed. Without thinking, he stood behind her, grabbed her wrist and positioned her hand so that the wand directly pointed towards her solar plexus, the exact centre of the body.
What he hadn't expected was the inexplicable rush of heat that shot up his arm; it made him think that he had set off the spell without even saying the incantation for a wild instant. Then he realized that his heart was pounding and that his left hand was on Hermione's waist and his right hand was snugly wrapped around hers. "I think I got it, Ron." Hermione's voice sounded higher and more breathless than usual.
"I reckon you have," he croaked out, his throat feeling dry. Reluctantly, he detached himself from her and walked back to the front, uncertain as to whether he could face her again. He saw that Hermione's face was completely pink with embarrassment. Cursing himself inwardly for being such a stupid, clingy oaf, he said, "Now, all you have to do is to think about your destination – the Transfiguration Classroom and concentrate very hard on it."
Hermione's fear of getting splinched, which had been temporarily blocked by the electric sensations of Ron's strong hand gripping hers, came back in full force. "C-could we do it together?" she whispered hesitantly. Struggling with some inner demons, she lightly caught hold of his left hand. Ron gaped at her in surprise. "On the count of three, then?" she asked questioningly, her voice nervous. Not trusting himself to speak, Ron nodded and clasped his hand more firmly around her smaller one.
"Would you like to go out next Hogsmeade weekend? With me?" Ron had no idea what possessed him to ask the question, but he did it anyway. Hermione looked up at him, her eyes dilating. Then she gave him a shy smile. "Yes, I would like that very much, Ron," she said. They both pointed their wands and shouted the incantation, disappearing in a burst of white light. At the same instant, Neville's arm and leg also vanished from the classroom.
Harry moodily gazed at his Potions text in the library. Snape had been giving them a harder time than usual, between concocting the Draught of Hearts and regular NEWT prep. Ron and Hermione were flanking him on the sides, busy scribbling something on their parchments as well. Something had happened between them, Harry was sure. He couldn't help smiling slightly when he saw them apparate into the classroom, holding on to each other, and their faces glowing with an odd sort of happiness.
Harry found himself forgiving Ron for his loose tongue earlier that afternoon. He didn't know, he told himself firmly. After two hours of intense swotting over books in the library, Harry decided to head towards the pitch to cool himself off. "Are you sure?" Ron asked. Harry smiled suddenly at both of them. "Yeah, it's alright." He got his Firebolt from the dormitory and did a few loops on the empty pitch to let out some steam.
As he sat down on the soft grass, he saw someone else coming into the grounds. Ginny, he realized, his heart leaping. "Hi there, Harry," she said cheerfully plopping down on the grass beside him. "What's new?" Harry shrugged. "I guess I didn't get extra detention with Snape, so that's something new," he said. Warm laughter comforted him that the joke wasn't really as lame as he thought it was. They talked more about Quidditch and school and then sat in companionable silence.
"What was it like…y'know Voldemort possessing you?" he asked suddenly looking at her. Her bright smile faded as she looked at him curiously. "Well, as I told you last year, I used to black out and not know what I'd been doing for long periods of time," she said. "What's wrong, Harry?" He wondered if he could tell her. "Did you ever get headaches?" he asked. "No, never," she said. Then her eyes widened slightly. "You don't think he's…" her voice trailed off.
"I'm not sure...its been happening for two weeks now. I feel so tired and sleepy and I think I killed Sirius," he blurted out. There it was – he said it. Ginny grabbed hold of his hand, "Listen to me, Harry," she said, her voice earnest and ringing with conviction. "You did not kill Sirius. It wasn't your fault, OK?" Harry shook his head. He turned to look towards Ginny; her face was serious and she looked oddly familiar for some strange reason.
"I think you should go to Dumbledore about this," Ginny said. He smiled at her. "You've been talking to Hermione." Ginny was looking down at their intertwined hands. Her face flushed slightly as she started to pull hers away. Harry tightened his grip on her hand and asked her, "Ginny, do you fancy Dean?" She looked horrorstruck. This was the last question she had expected him to ask her. "I like him, but…," she said, hesitantly. Harry waited. "…I know that he likes Parvati so I broke it off with him on good terms," she finished. Harry let out a breath that he didn't even know he had been holding in.
"Would you like to go out with me sometime?" he asked her. Ginny looked up at him and smiled, her face full of joy. "You know, I've been waiting for five years for you to ask that question," she said..
In the cold dungeon, Severus Snape looked at Harry and Ginny in his viewing glass. How like James and Lily did they look, he thought hatefully. It was James. Always James who was the hero. Always James who won at Quidditch. Always James who got the girl…
Draco Malfoy was also spying on them, his face a mask of contorted rage. It was Potter. Always Potter who was the hero. Always Potter who snatched the snitch. But, he would not get the girl, this time, he vowed, his eyes on Ginny's flying auburn hair.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Read and Review please! 😊
Thanks Pixie! 😊
Will probably put up the next chap by next week!