Chapter Thirteen: Quidditch
Ginny woke up to bright lights and the sound of people rushing frantically around the room, and wondered for a few moments where she could possibly be. Then her memory rushed back in a flash, and she sat up instantly.
“Harry!” she shouted, trying to get out of the bed. She was prevented from accomplishing this, however, by Ron pushing her back and a wave of dizziness that threatened to take her back into unconsciousness. Closing her eyes, she sat back in her bed and took a few deep breaths, while Ron tried to calm her down.
“Careful, Ginny! You lost a lot of blood and the potions you were given won’t have fully worked yet. Harry’s alive, and they’ll have him fixed up in no time,” he said, but though he made a valiant effort to sound reassuring, he couldn’t keep the worry from entering his voice at the end.
“What’s wrong with him,” Ginny demanded firmly.
Ron hesitated, and Hermione answered for him.
“He had several broken ribs and punctured one of his lungs, along with some other internal damage. His right leg was broken in five places, too… he must have landed with it wrong… when we got back he was lying on it…”
Ginny felt a bout of nausea rise up at Hermione’s inability to even describe Harry’s injury. And he had been hit because she had cried out.
“It’s not your fault, Ginny,” Ron said, apparently reading her expression accurately. “We were all lucky to get out alive, and Harry probably would have been captured if you hadn’t led us all up to help him.”
Ginny nodded, deciding to accept his words for now; it would be less painful that way, but she knew she needed to hear those words from Harry before she would be able to get over it.
“Has Madame Pomfrey been able to heal him yet? How long have I been unconscious?”
“It’s barely Saturday morning,” Hermione replied. “Madame Pomfrey had your arm fixed in an instant, but wanted you to wake up on your own. She says she fixed Harry’s ribs and most of the internal damage, and she said she was going to do his leg before he wakes up. She’s probably doing it right now.”
“So why are you so worried,” Ginny asked suspiciously.
“Well… Harry hit his head again, when he fell…” Ron started.
“And Madame Pomfrey doesn’t know what that might have done. It’s really bad to keep getting repeated head injuries like Harry has, and there could be more damage,” Hermione finished in a rush. “We won’t know if he’s alright until he wakes up.”
Ginny paled visibly, but insisted they help her up. She made her way over to where Harry lay in his bed, and stood next to him, running her hands through his hair. Madame Pomfrey had gotten to his leg, and he appeared to be uninjured. He was exceptionally pale, though, and his breathing was shallow.
“Why is he breathing like that?” she asked in a whisper.
“Madame Pomfrey said it was an after-affect from the punctured lung; it’s supposed to go away before long,” Ron answered.
“He’ll be okay,” Ginny stated firmly, conjuring herself a chair next to his bed.
The others said nothing as they also set in to wait.
***
Harry leaned heavily on his cane as he limped his way down the hall to his classroom. The cane was an annoyance, but all in all, it was a small price to pay for the injuries he had received. He also enjoyed how the bumpier ride on his shoulder annoyed Fawkes.
He had regained consciousness that Sunday afternoon, feeling sore and confused. His last memory was of the snakes he had conjured, and had no idea where he was. He had also panicked, thinking of his friends, until he heard their voices reassuring him they were there, and telling him where he was. Ginny’s comforting hand in his hair had been very welcome, and she had remained there with him until he was allowed to leave Monday morning. He had had to deal with shortness of breath for a few days, and had been told that he would be able to stop using the cane after a few weeks. The injuries to his leg had necessitated the re-growth of the bone in a few places, and the muscles had been torn and broken as well. He was as grateful as any of the others that he hadn’t suffered any serious damage to his head, and had promised Madame Pomfrey that he would be more careful. He had been proud that he hadn’t missed any of his classes.
The night after he had woken up, once they were alone, Ginny had spent fifteen minutes yelling at him about needing to concentrate and not letting things distract him. He had been completely confused at the telling off, until she had finally broken down sobbing, apologizing for getting him hurt. He had taken her in his arms and they had discussed things until both were satisfied that no one was at fault. Harry remembered comforting her after that with a smile.
He rarely needed the cane much anymore, truthfully, except for when he had been walking a lot, or if he had had a hard day of training. Today he had done both, and his leg twinged painfully with every step. Apparently, his injuries were not going to excuse him with Moody. He smiled at the thought of the day’s training. He had been training with Remus for most of the day, before one last match against Moody. Harry had decided to cheat a little, and threw a wood warping spell throughout the room, causing everything made out of wood to warp and twist. This had included several bookshelves, chairs, and, incidentally, Moody’s wooden leg. He had gone down with a crash and Harry had disarmed him easily. Moody had roared with laughter, congratulating Harry on his ingenuity before making him run through a grueling exercise regimen to finish the day.
Now, Harry had to grade papers. Harry hated grading papers with a passion, especially since he couldn’t see them himself. Instead he had to use his Book Reader, and a special Teacher’s Edition Dictation Quill that would copy down whatever he said in the margins and then write down the final score. Sometimes he found it very hard to give good grades entirely because he hated the task, but he tried to be fair, even to the Slytherins.
As he settled behind his desk and got everything into place, Harry again thought of the upcoming Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor the following day. Ron had been keeping his team out in practices almost constantly, and they definitely needed it. Ginny had remained a Chaser, and their Beaters had returned, but they had needed two more Chasers and a Seeker, and they hadn’t had the best pool to draw from. The Slytherins had had larger numbers to choose from, and Crabbe and Goyle had come back as Beaters. They had spread the word that they would be aiming specifically for Ron and Ginny, and Harry had almost attempted to curse them when he heard it. It was sure to be a dirty game, and Harry was worried.
He had told Ron, Hermione, and Ginny that he wasn’t planning on going to the match, claiming that since he couldn’t see, he may as well grade papers instead. Ron and Ginny had pleaded with him to reconsider, and Hermione had offered to help grade papers. He could imagine the hurt in Ginny’s eyes when he assured them it was fine; he just didn’t want to go. He wanted to surprise her with his being there, and Ron and Hermione would never know he was there anyway.
***
Ginny made her way out to the changing tent, and began to get ready to play quietly. Harry had eaten breakfast with them, and then blithely wished them luck and had Fawkes carry him away. She knew it was hard for him, not being able to play himself, but she was still hurt that he wouldn’t come to support her. Hadn’t she helped him with almost every single task he had needed to do since he had become blind? And yet when she finally asked him if he would come for her, he had politely refused, saying that maybe he would go another time, and insisting she use his Firebolt. That had made her feel a bit better, but she still wished he would be there to cheer for her.
He’s going to get a piece of my mind for this, she thought angrily.
As she walked out onto the field with the rest of the team, however, her angry thoughts were interrupted by loud piercing cry. Looking up in confusion, she caught sight of the hawk perched on top of one of the Gryffindor goal hoops, flapping its wings slightly before crying out again.
Her heart soared as she watched Harry take flight and wing over to the top of the bleachers where he landed again, staring out over the field imperiously.
He didn’t just want to hear me play, he wanted to watch too, she thought exultantly. She was going to make sure he got a fantastic show.
***
Harry flapped his wings in excitement and let loose with another cry as Ginny scored yet again. He had never seen anyone fly the way she was flying, and it was thrilling to watch. The game had been going on for hours and Gryffindor was leading Slytherin 320 to 180, and Ginny had scored twenty-six of the goals for her team. The Slytherins were resorting to dirtier and more vicious tricks as the game progressed, determined to end the domination, but so far Ginny’s incredible skills and the speed of the Firebolt had made her untouchable.
Harry was only slightly upset that he couldn’t be down there playing too. He had discovered that locating the Snitch was incredibly easy as a hawk. All he had to do was look out over the field and he could see it zooming around the field, his enhanced vision catching the movement and the flashes of reflected sunlight. He was positive he could have swooped down on it and caught it in his talons, but no one would give the victory to Gryffindor if he did that, so he had restrained himself. So far, neither of the Seekers had shown themselves to be very skilled, so Harry was pretty sure that Ginny would soon score enough that it wouldn’t matter who caught the snitch.
Ginny was soaring towards the goal post yet again, swerving around the opposing Chasers with ease, when Harry saw the Slytherin Seeker catch sight of the Snitch near the Slytherin goal posts. He cried out in alarm, and Ginny must have heard him because she suddenly flew high, hurling the Quaffle towards a hoop and flying after the Seeker without looking to see if she scored, though Harry was happy to see that she had. As she chased the Seeker, however, she didn’t see Crabbe coming in from the side, Beater bat raised threateningly. There was no Bludger anywhere near where he was going.
There was no way Harry could stay out of it. He launched himself off of the bleachers and went into a steep dive, spreading his wings just in front of Crabbe as the bat began to swing for Ginny’s head. Harry was able to grasp the bat with his talons and yanked it out of Crabbe’s hand; the confused boy’s reach wasn’t nearly long enough to reach Ginny without the bat, and the momentum that wasn’t counteracted by an impact carried him right off his broom. Luckily for him, he was only about 8 feet off the ground, and fell harmlessly to the soft grass. Unfortunately for him, Harry decided that the bat was too heavy to fly with and dropped it on top of him, crying out with malicious glee as the heavy bat hit him in the stomach, causing him to double over in pain. Harry flew quickly off the pitch, not wanting to call more attention to the already bizarre behavior of a hawk that apparently couldn’t tell the difference between a squirrel and a Beater’s bat.
He had just reclaimed his perch atop the stands when he turned to catch sight of Ginny flying barely ahead of the Seeker and catching the Snitch herself; apparently she hadn’t noticed the situation with Crabbe at all. The crowd went wild, while the Slytherins complained about the Snitch being caught by a Chaser and everyone else cheered insanely. Harry could make out Luna’s oversized lion hat roaring in triumph as Hermione hugged her and both screamed in delight. The rest of the team collided with Ginny, hugging her in the air, and she handed the Snitch to the Gryffindor Seeker in case there were any questions as to the legality of the catch. He then caught sight of Ginny looking straight at him, and cried out again, before taking flight and soaring down towards the changing tents.
***
Ginny was walking on air as she made her way back to the tent. Not only had she single-handedly scored 420 points for her team in one game, which Madame Hooch assured her was a school record, but Harry had obviously been happy watching the game; his screeching cheers had pushed her to play better than she had ever thought she could.
As she entered the tent with the rest of the team, Harry was standing there waiting, flushed with excitement and with an enormous grin plastered over his face.
“You were incredible, Ginny!” he shouted as she threw herself into his arms. “I’ve never seen anything like that in my life…”
“Finally decided to support the team, Harry? And how would you have seen anything, anyway?” Ron asked bitterly.
“Ron!” Ginny shouted, “He must have been down here listening. I’m sure he just didn’t want to have to sit in the stands with everyone else.”
Harry nodded, upset that Ron would say what he had, and upset that he had slipped about seeing the game.
“I’m sorry, Ron, I wish I could have seen it but I can’t; and I decided that I’d be trampled in the crowd in the stands if I went up there, and I didn’t want Hermione to feel like she had to stay down here with me,” Harry explained shortly, using his prefabricated excuse.
Ron got over being upset quickly, and even apologized to Harry for his angry words. Then, as Hermione joined them, he began a play by play account of the entire game, starting with his own fantastic saves, which everyone had to admit had been great. He finished with Ginny’s exploits on the pitch, and Ginny blushed with pleasure and held Harry tighter.
“And then that bird came out of nowhere and took out Crabbe before he could hit you,” Ron chortled, finishing with how the bird had dropped the bat on Crabbe before flying away.
“What bird? And what about Crabbe, I don’t remember him being around me?” Ginny asked suspiciously, looking at Harry. All of her attention had been on keeping the Snitch from the Slytherin Seeker.
“It was a hawk or an eagle or something,” Ron answered distractedly, “And Crabbe was flying up to your side and looked like he was going to try and take you out with his bat. I thought he was going to until that bird pulled it out of his hand.” Ron’s tone was angry as he said this last part. “I almost fell off my broom, I was so worried.”
Ginny’s eyes narrowed as she looked up at Harry’s face. He had a completely unbelievable mask of innocence on his face that ended up making him look as guilty as possible.
“Imagine that, Harry,” Ginny stated with teeth clenched, and a fake smile of her own, “A hawk interrupting a Quidditch match and pulling a Beater’s bat right from his hand. I’ve never heard of a hawk acting that way before.”
Harry paled visibly as he accurately read her mood from her voice, though luckily Ron was oblivious to the entire exchange and Hermione was busy congratulating him enthusiastically.
“We’ll talk about this later,” Ginny hissed in a whisper meant for Harry alone. Harry’s smile collapsed completely, but he kept his arm around her as they joined the happy throng making their way back to the Gryffindor tower.
***
“And everything I did doesn’t mean anything now, because you cheated! You interfered with the game and couldn’t let me handle things on my own!” Ginny shouted, as she paced back and forth in their sitting room. Ron and Hermione were still at the party in Gryffindor tower, which had been going on for hours. Harry had wanted to resolve this as soon as possible and get back to the party, but Ginny had been yelling for some time, and it didn’t look like they would make it back any time soon.
“He was the one cheating!” Harry retorted, “Beaters aren’t allowed to hit other players with those bats, and he was swinging right for your head! He could have killed you, and you expect me to sit there and watch?”
“I’m my own person, Harry! I can take care of myself. Now you have yet another victory, the great Harry Potter saves the day again, and I have nothing!”
Harry was momentarily speechless. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or to be angry. Thinking carefully, though, he decided laughing would have a high probability of getting him killed, and being angry wouldn’t end the argument.
“Is that what you really think?” he asked quietly. “That I don’t let you have any credit, or that I don’t let you do anything for yourself?”
His soft voice had gotten her attention, and she stopped pacing and sat down next to him on the couch.
“It’s hard not to think that sometimes, Harry. You seem to know everything now, and even though you’re blind you saved practically my whole family from Death Eaters, and then took almost all of them out by yourself in Godric’s Hollow. You made the Animagus transformation in no time and I still can’t manage it. I thought I was doing something great on my own tonight, and I wanted to do it for you. And then suddenly I find out you rescued me again,” she said all this in a much calmer voice and he could hear her becoming more emotional as she went on.
“I just wanted to show you that I could be great too,” she finished, and he heard her start to cry.
“Ginny, I know better than anyone that you can handle yourself in almost any situation. You’ve faced Voldemort’s Death Eaters without flinching when most people won’t even say his name,” he said soothingly, as he wrapped an arm around her and held her close. “But sometimes everyone needs help. If you hadn’t helped me around when I was first blind, I would be a bitter wreck and the Death Eaters would have found me sulking in the hospital wing when they attacked, just like they expected, and then I would have been dead. I still can’t even cut my own meat!”
Ginny laughed, as she wiped tears from her eyes, and looked up at his face.
“I depend on you almost completely, and if anything happened to you I don’t think I could take it. So if you would prefer to look at it that way, I was merely looking out for my own interests, not trying to rescue you. And regardless of what I did, you played better tonight than anyone I’ve ever seen, and the Hogwarts record books will show that for a long time.”
Ginny sighed as she hugged him tightly.
“I’m sorry I got so mad about everything, Harry. Thanks for being so understanding. I guess I do enjoy being the best Quidditch player in Hogwarts history, rather than being unconscious in the hospital wing,” she finished, laughing as she pulled Harry down for a kiss that went on for some time.
Finally he pulled away slightly and smiled.
“Not that I’m not enjoying myself immensely,” he said, sounding a little out of breath, “but aren’t we missing your party?”
“I like my party here more than the one in the tower,” Ginny answered, grabbing his shirt collar and pulling him back.