Chapter Fourteen

Goodbye to the Nimbus Two Thousand

As Harry entered the Great Hall for breakfast all eyes turned towards him from all directions, and it made him uncomfortable as he walked to the Gryffindor table to sit with Ginny. The eyes followed, most trying to hide it, but failing miserably. Ginny smiled at him when he sat down next to her.

"Why's everyone staring at me?" He whispered to her as he looked around the Great Hall and noticed even some Slytherins sneaking glimpses of him.

"Professor McGonagall made an announcement about what happened last night; Gryffindors were the only ones who knew last night. Now they know, but I don't see why they are staring. It's a bit rude really," Ginny said as she too looked around the Great Hall and saw the faces, and many of the girl's faces quickly turned and blushed.

Harry attempted to eat some breakfast, but even the constant stares from his own house made him too uncomfortable to eat his toast. He waited for Ginny to finish. Before Harry and Ginny could escape, Professor McGonagall approached them and she wore a very serious expression.

"Mr. Potter, I would like a word with you, please."

Harry's heart sunk like a rock, and his chest tightened. His legs were heavy and difficult to move as he followed in Professor McGonagall's wake. He looked back at Ginny and gave a weak smile, telling her it was okay and he'd be back.

Harry was led to Professor McGonagall's office. She opened the door and allowed him to walk in before her. He sat down in one of the chairs in front of McGonagall's desk and began thinking of things he could say. McGonagall walked behind the desk and sat gingerly in her chair.

"Harry, I trust that you know that Black was after you, and his attempt last night was to get to you. He won't give up easily." McGonagall explained, but Harry didn't care. He was sure that Ron had run off and told her about his cuts, and that she was going to lecture him about it and suggest things to help. The air in the room lifted a bit.

"Yes, I know. You told me this before the start of term feast. Why are you telling me again now?"

"Harry, you have to be careful. You have a knack for getting yourself into trouble, and Black won't take mercy on you." She said exasperatedly.

"Okay. I'll be careful; I won't go looking for someone who wants to kill me." Harry said defensively.

"You'll do good to do that. You may go." She dismissed.

Harry stood and nodded to Professor McGonagall and left. Harry could feel his heart lighten. No one but Ron and the Dursley's knew, that is until Ron got a chance to tell someone. Harry returned to the Great Hall with a sort of bounce in his step, but there was this new fear in the back of his mind. It was an intense, irrational fear that someone might try to help him. It was completely silly of course, because even though he doesn't want to admit it, he needs help, he just doesn't want it.

Ginny jumped from her seat when she saw Harry come back, she met him by the door and they left the Great Hall. Before they'd left, Harry caught some furtive glances from Ron. Harry could tell he was pissed that Harry looked happy. Maybe he did try to tell McGonagall, but she didn't believe him, or maybe she thought it was ridiculous. Why on earth would famous Harry Potter be depressed, and in fact depressed enough to cut himself?

Harry and Ginny made their way up to Gryffindor Tower. Harry and Ginny where going to practice charms. Ginny was smiling and giggling from the cheering charm that Harry had cast on her. As she started into another fit of giggles, the portrait hole swung open, and Ron and Hermione walked in, deep in conversation about potions.

Hermione led Ron toward Harry and Ginny, still talking intently. When she finally finished her long speech about how to get potions right, she spoke to Harry and Ginny, who was failing to stifle the giggles.

"Hello, Harry, Ginny." She greeted as if they'd just walked up.

"Hey, what's up?" Harry asked as Ginny burst back into giggles at Hermione's words. Ron and Hermione looked worriedly at Ginny. "Cheering Charm. We were practicing charms. I think it was a bit much." Harry smiled lightly.

"Yes, it does look like it was quite a powerful charm, there." Hermione agreed. "Great match last night Harry. When is the next one?"

"In about a week. Just before the holidays. It'll be against Ravenclaw." Harry said happily.

Hermione finally came to the conclusion that there was an awkward silence hanging between Ron and Harry.

"What's wrong with you two? You're best friends, what happened? Ron, tell me why you and Harry aren't speaking." Hermione had had enough.

Ron stared blankly at the sofa, and Harry realized he was having an internal battle as to whether he should tell the truth or not. Harry frantically thought of something to say.

"Well, R-Ron and I just," Harry's mind raced for and explanation. "We played chess, and I beat him several times in a row. He thinks I cheated. And he was right. Ron, I'm sorry. Want to rematch?"

Harry gave Ron a weak smile. He saw the corners of Ron mouth twitch into a slight smile.

"Sure, let's do it, now." Ron agreed as he hurried to the dormitory to grab his Wizard Chess set.

"Is that truly the problem, Harry? Or is there something you're not telling me?" Hermione turned on him viciously.

"Hermione, I'm not lying to you." Harry reassured.

"Fine," She caved as Ron came thumping back down the stairs, chess set in hand and a malicious grin on his face.

"I'm white," Harry called.

"Being first isn't going to help you this time." Ron warned.

After several games, it was apparent that the silence that had hung between them before had vanished. About half-way through the second game, Ginny sobered up from the cheering charm and intently watch the relentless chess pieces smash each other to bits. After Ron won the fifth game in a row, the four of them decided that it was time for lunch and headed down to the Great Hall.

Sunday evening was full of talk about the Holiday's. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny were staying, which meant Percy and the twins were staying as well. As the fire began to die, the four of them disbanded and went to their dormitories. Harry and Ron didn't speak at first. They changed in silence, and just as Harry was about to break the silence, there was a soft tapping on the window, and a loud hoot. Harry turned and saw Hedwig, who had a letter clasped in her beak. Harry flung the window open and allowed her to come in.

Harry took the letter and opened it carefully, knowing perfectly well who it was from.

Dear Harry,

That was some Quidditch match yesterday. Your father would have been proud. I see that you're seeker, like your father of course. Anyways, my reason for writing this time is a sort of warning.

Beware the furry beast that lurks inside the walls of Hogwarts. Beware the whiskers that twitch at the plot of your demise. Beware the yellow eyes that seem so innocent.

Don't go anywhere without someone with you, Harry. Stay safe.

Harry read and reread the letter. The furry beast? Whiskers? What was wrong with this person? And how'd they know about the Quidditch match, and what was with the warning? It seemed as though the writer was trying to warn Harry to stay away from Crookshanks, but why?

"Who's that from?" Ron asked curiously.

"Oh, it's just from Hagrid, telling us about Buckbeak's trial date." Harry lied.

"When is it?"

"That's the thing, he didn't say." Harry lied again. "We can go see him tomorrow sometime and see how things are going."

"Okay, cool." Ron said as he climbed onto his four-poster. "Goodnight, Harry."

"Night, Ron."

Harry lay in bed awake for a while, and finally Ginny showed up. Ginny settled down next to Harry and he wrapped his arms around her tightly, pinning her to his chest. Her cheek was settled in the crook of his neck, her arms were around his shoulders. Without warning she raised her head slightly. Her eyes were level with Harry's, their noses less than an inch from each other. Harry leaned closer and kissed her forehead softly.

"I love you, Gin." Harry whispered in her ear.

Ginny settled herself against Harry's chest and within minutes, she was asleep. Harry soon followed suit after he had finished running his fingers through her hair, kissed the top of her head, and told her he loved her once more, even though she was already asleep.

Harry woke early the next morning, and what he saw was not what he expected. Fred and George where there on his bed, and with smiles that clearly contained malice within them.

Harry tried not to look embarrassed about being caught with Ginny sleeping in his bed.

"Hello, Harry." George greeted with a hint of mocking in his voice.

"Time to get up, lover boy. Wood has just ordered all of us out on the pitch in ten minutes for practice. Come on, Come on," Fred urged after seeing reluctance flash across Harry's face. Harry crawled from the bed, trying desperately to act normal and not wake Ginny. He pulled on his practice robes and set off toward the Quidditch pitch with Fred and George teasing the entire time.

"To tell you the truth, Harry, we knew about it ages ago, we just never had a legit reason to come in and catch you." Fred grinned wildly.

"How'd you know?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Oh, we've got this," George said as he pulled out a battered old piece of parchment to show Harry.

"What's so special about an old paper?" Harry asked.

"This isn't a normal piece of parchment, dearest Harry. This is the Marauder's Map. Watch," Fred instructed as he placed the tip of his wand on the parchment and said, 'I solemnly swear I am up to no good.'

To Harry's amazement, the parchment began to transform into a map of the entire castle. Black ink marked walls and passages within the castle. Then there were ink spots that continued to move about the passageways marked by the map. Harry realized the moving black dots were people, and in tiny scrawl, the map told who they were. Harry gasped and was about to point out a dot and name he'd never heard around the castle, but just as he was about too, the map was snatched from George's hand.

Professor Lupin stood before them, map in hand. "Boys, where did you get this map?"

"We found it, sir." Fred said.

"Ah, off you go, to the pitch. I'm right behind you. I'm monitoring the practice this morning." Lupin said cheerily.

They all set off toward the pitch once more, silent as ever.

Harry spent the next few days trying to find out who he'd seen on the map. It had said Peter Pettigrew, but who on earth was that?

He decided he'd look the man up in the library, but he couldn't find a thing. When he asked Madam Pince if she'd ever heard of Peter Pettigrew, she began tearing up as if he'd just asked about the death of a loved one. Harry decided he wouldn't mention it to anyone else.

Before Harry realized it, Saturday had come and the last Quidditch match of the term was to take place in less than an hour. Harry ate a few pieces of toast, and when Wood said it was time to go, the entire team stood and walked along the Gryffindor table toward the Entrance Hall, their scarlet capes billowing after them.

Harry listened to Wood's pep talk intently. Of course it was nearly the same each time, but it gave Harry confidence.

Before he knew it, he was on the field, the whistle was blown and they soared into the air. Harry was higher than the rest, and was searching for the snitch. The sooner the match was over, the better. The weather was horrid. It was freezing, and the falling snow was quickly turning into a blizzard. Up in the clouds, Harry couldn't see much and was forced to go lower. After what seemed like ages, Harry caught a glimpse of a flicker of gold, but it was only a watch on one of the Ravenclaw Beaters. Clearly embarrassed, Harry soared up above the action, and he was suddenly being suffocated by the cold that filled his chest, as the screaming began. Harry frantically flew about, searching desperately for the snitch as the screams and pleads got louder. Finally he found it, and Harry soared after the tiny gold ball. The snitch shot skyward, and Harry followed close behind it. The Ravenclaw seeker realized that Harry had spotted the snitch and shot after him. In no time at all they were neck and neck. Harry stretched his arm, but the screaming inside his head was louder than ever, everything was losing color, and turning to black and then Harry heard more screams, and lost consciousness.

Harry came to and found himself in the hospital wing. He couldn't shake the cold that had occupied his chest during the match. He looked around and met teary eyes. Ginny's face was red, and her eyes glittering with fresh tears.

"What happened? What about the match? I've got to get back." Harry attempted to get up, but Madam Pomfrey was there in an instant, pushing him back onto the bed and handing him a large chunk of chocolate.

"You need rest, dear. Lay back down." Madam Pomfrey instructed.

"But the match, what happened?"

"Ravenclaw won, you were so close before you fell off your broom." Ginny explained through sobs.

"It was a dementor attack, now eat that chocolate." Madam Pomfrey told him.

"Where's the team?" Harry asked Ginny.

"Madam Pomfrey would only let one in, and I was here before anyone else."

"Do you know where my broom is?" Harry asked her glumly.

"Wood handed it to me to give to you, but there is nothing we can do for it, Harry. I'm so sorry." Ginny sobbed a little more as she laid a bunch of splintered wood and twigs on his bed. "After you fell off, the broom continued in its path, which was directly towards the Whomping Willow."

Harry was shocked and paralyzed with so many different emotions. First anger, than sadness, then realization. For a while Harry just sat there, blankly staring at the wall. Before long, Madam Pomfrey came around again to check that Harry had eaten the chocolate and that Ginny needed to leave. Ginny refused, however, and fought with all her might, which paid off because Madam Pomfrey finally gave up and left them alone.

After some time, Ginny began to get tired. At first she was just going to go to her dormitory, but Harry asked her to stay, so she climbed onto the tiny medical cot with Harry, and in his arms, she fell asleep as he stayed wide awake, somehow not tired. Harry couldn't help but long for the old kitchen knife that solved to many other emotional problems, and he wished he had it now, the cold blade against his skin just before the cut, and then wishing he could see the blood flow freely from his arm, erasing all emotion, leaving only physical pain.

(I want to apologize to all of you for my terrible, terrible mistake with that same event happening twice. I liked the second senario better, so I got rid of the first. Anyhoot, It was a bit of a quick fix, and that was quite embarrassing, so please, if in the process of trying to fix my mistake, I made more. Please please let me know and I will fix them as soon as possible. Thank you!)