A challenge that explored the friendly moments between Harry and Ginny; how they spent the summer, walks after the Quidditch practices
"Goodnight, Harry!"
The mellifluous voice of Ginny Weasley drifted up the stairs behind Harry, causing him to freeze in his tracks. They had just come off their victory against Slytherin, and Ron and Hermione had gotten in yet another fight. (She had caught him kissing Lavender Brown and flaunting it horribly. She'd cast anOppugno spell at him and stormed off toward her dorm.) Harry had retreated to the Common Room- to get away from Ron and Lavender, who weren't yet ready to part ways for the night. He had just bid the Quidditch team goodnight, when Ginny's voice compelled to return from whence he came, just to say goodnight one more time. He slowly turned around and descended the stairs, peeking into the Common Room.
"Night, Ginny," he said, watching her rise off the couch and walk toward him. Arnold the Pygmy Puff dozed on her shoulder.
"You just told me that two seconds ago, silly, I was just replying," she said playfully, feigning a punch to Harry's bicep.
"Oh, er, yeah," Harry replied, cursing himself for sounding so lame, and for the blush he could feel advancing over his features. He turned and began to ascend the stone stairs again.
"You flew great today, you know. You're a great captain, Harry."
Harry spun around to see that Ginny was climbing up the boy's dormitory stairs behind him, trailing her fingertips along the cool, grey wall. "Really?" he asked, noticing a small book tucked under her arm.
"Of course, you're excellent! You've always said and done what's needed to be done, you're not a control freak and you're fair. You know Quidditch, and you've got great strategies, drills, and game plans. I couldn't ask for a better captain."
"Really?" he asked again, in more disbelief than the last time.
Ginny giggled and stepped out and around Harry; a wide smile played on her lips and her ponytail swayed jauntily behind her as she swung around and patted his chest. "Really, Harry, I mean it," she said encouragingly.
Harry felt his face warming and a crooked smile spread across his face. "Thanks Gin,"
Ginny smiled and continued to ascend the boy's staircase, pushing open the door to Harry's dormitory. Harry was momentarily dazed, feeling his face flush and gently laid his hand over the spot on his chest where Ginny's hand had just been. He was beginning to wonder if anyone, aside from Ron, appreciated all the preparation he put into practices and the sheer enthusiasm he felt toward Quidditch. It was wonderful to be recognised by Ginny Weasley. Harry smiled and scrabbled up the steps behind her.
She pushed open the door to the boy's dorm room and walked in as though she knew exactly what she was doing.
"Er, Gin, this is the boy's dorm," Harry offered, hesitantly entering the room behind her, casting wary looking over his shoulder toward the open door.
Ginny laughed. "I know, I was just returning a book Dean loaned me." She lightly tossed the book on the bed and returned to where Harry loomed near the door. "It's about his favourite football club," she snickered. "Muggle sports are interesting. Did you play?"
At the mention of Dean Harry felt as though something was clawing at him from the inside out. He was afraid to dwell on it and quickly answered Ginny's question. "What? Football?" Harry asked incredulously. "No, that would be under the dreaded 'fun' category despised and forbidden by the Dursley's."
Her face fell. "I'm sorry," she offered genuinely, looking down at the floor. "That was insensitive of me to ask. I'm just so used to you being with us and getting involved in 'Weasley-ness.' At least we had fun this summer playing Quidditch in the meadow behind the Burrow. That was the most fun I've ever had on summer vacation."
Harry smiled, fondly remembering the past summer as well. "Yeah, me too."
"Well, goodnight, Harry," Ginny declared, smiling before she disappeared through the door, and back down the stairwell.
Harry was left a long in the round stone dormitory with only his thoughts for company. Ginny thought he was a good Quidditch captain.
Harry went about his nightly ritual of preparing for bed but he found his thoughts clouded by his and Ginny's conversation. It was true, their summer Quidditch matches had been some of the most fun he had ever had at the Burrow. He always played against Ginny- she was nearly as good as he was and they always played opposite each other to keep the teams fair. They spent just as much time playing Quidditch as they did playing 'referee' between Hermione and Ron.
He recalled on one such occasion, after Hermione had stormed off toward the house upon receiving a particularly rude hand gesture made by Ron, that he let Ron ride his Firebolt and he and Ginny sat talking in the grass.
"Any plans for the Quidditch season, Captain?" Ginny asked, tearing up a fistful of thick, lush grass and tossing it into the wind. She laughed as it sprinkled around her like confetti in the wind.
Harry smiled. "Just one so far."
"Oh? And what is that?" she inquired, reclining back on her elbows and stretching her freckled legs out in front of her.
"Putting you in as Chaser, that's what." Harry answered, letting his eyes drift from Ron zooming around on his Firebolt toward Ginny lounging in the grass. "I've seen enough these last few weeks to know you're the best prospect, I'd bet on it."
Ginny blushed and rolled her eyes, "You don't know that yet. I'm sure there are lots of competent Chasers at Hogwarts. You can't just fill the position before tryouts."
Harry smiled, watching her face colour pink. "Oh yeah? Watch me. I'm betting you nail tryouts and put any other contenders to shame," he boasted, elbowing Ginny lightly.
"Ha, ha," she said sardonically. "What about strategy? I've got a couple of ideas. I scribbled some plays on some parchment. If you want to see them I'd be more than happy to discuss it with you." she finished by looking down at the grass.
Harry's eyes widened. "Are you serious?"
"Just because I'm a girl doesn't automatically mean I don't know anything about Quidditch, Harry," Ginny countered.
"No, that's not what I meant, I think lots of girls know loads about Quidditch, well except Hermione, I just meant that I've never met a girl who would actually discuss Quidditch strategy with me before."
Ginny shrugged. "Sure you have, Katie, Angelina, Alicia- Cho." Her gaze slowly rose from the lawn to where Ron had just attempted a sloth roll and nearly fallen off the broom.
This time it was Harry who looked down and adjusted the laces on his trainers. "They only discussed Quidditch with me because it was sort of- expected. We didn't just sit around and discuss tactics because it was fun," he paused as a blush crept over his cheeks. "I'd really like to see what plays you sketched out."
"Really?" Ginny asked, turning over on her stomach and facing Harry finally.
"Yes," he replied earnestly, ripping up a handful of grass and throwing it at her. "Why wouldn't I?"
"Git," she replied, picking up the scattered clippings and throwing them back at him. "I just wasn't sure if my opinion mattered at all."
Harry reclined until he was flat on his back and folded his arms beneath his head. He looked up at the clear, blue sky and took a deep breath. There was a strange sensation in his stomach. It felt as though a Golden Snitch was zooming around inside of him. "Of course your opinion matters," he said aloud, pointedly not looking at her. Ginny had gone with him to the Department of Mysteries and had been there for him during the worst time of his life. How could she not matter? "We're friends, right? And friends matter."
She snapped the stem of a dandelion and held the weed up to her nose. "Thank you. Stop in my room later, and I'll show you those plays, all right?"
Harry forced himself to swallow. "Yeah, all right," he answered, hearing Ron land several feet away.
"I swear, I'm going to save every Knut I earn and buy one of those someday," Ron declared, plopping down by Harry and Ginny and setting the broomstick down on the lawn.
"Fancy a go on my broomstick, Ginny?" Harry asked, instantly thinking better of his question as soon as the words escaped his lips. He blushed furiously and shook his head.
Ginny laughed loudly while Ron's face contorted with shock and indignation.
"No, I meant the Firebolt," Harry clarified himself. "Want to ride it?"
"Sure, Harry," she answered. "I'll have a go on your broomstick," she added, rising from the ground and brushing the loose grass off her shorts and T-shirt.
"You guys are sick," Ron offered, "I'm going in. Coming, Harry?"
"No," he said, shaking his head. "I'll wait for Ginny."
Harry climbed into bed, coming out of his reverie. It had been amazing becoming friends with Ginny Weasley. And that's all they were, weren't they? Ginny was dating Dean Thomas, and was none the wiser than Harry had an angry, raging beast inside his chest who growled in protest at the mere thought of them. Evidently she was happy, if not, she had a funny way of showing it.
He drew the hangings around his bed, hoping Ron would not come in and show signs of wanting to chat about Hermione casting enchanted yellow birds at his head, or about kissing Lavender Brown.
He settled himself and set his glasses on the nightstand next to his bed. He tried closing his eyes, but found after a few moments that he was not remotely tired. No, in fact he came upstairs because he didn't want to listen to Ron's complaints, he couldn't go up to comfort Hermione- he'd probably muck it up anyhow, and he didn't want to see Dean and Ginny canoodling in the common room, celebrating their Quidditch victory.
He had hugged Ginny after the match today. It was the first time he could remember that happening. But they had come close several times during practices. Ginny always congratulated him on his game plans and strategies, and would zoom past him on her broom eager to slap him a 'high five.' They often found themselves either first, or last, from the locker room and readily available to walk back up to the castle together. She always gave him the honest truth and was a natural planner. Once again his memory was drifting to a recent conversation after practice one evening.
"I'm telling you, I think if we use Parkin's Pincer on Hufflepuff, they'll panic. It'll work, Harry. Their chasers are weak."
Harry laid the Firebolt over his shoulder and nodded. "You're probably right. Good call, we'll have to try that next practice. I still would love to see you pull off a reverse pass though. I think you and Demelza could do it."
Ginny made a face. "The Tchamba Charmers are experts at that play, I highly doubt I'll be able to pull it off," she chided.
Harry shook his head slowly. "I believe in you, and I'll be you could do it. I'd even be willing to stay a few minutes after practice and work on it with you, if you wanted to I mean." He was glad that it was dusk and the shadows were clouding the blush in his cheeks.
She beamed. "Thank you, Harry. I can see why you and my git of a brother are such good friends. You're so encouraging and have a certain gift at making people feel better about their faults. Keep encouraging him and he might be a world class Keeper." She laughed, but shook her head back and forth with doubt. "Incidentally, I'd love to stay after a few minutes some night. I'll have to let you know when, OWL's are killing me."
"Oh, yeah, right. I forgot about that. Sorry. It seems like we're in the same year most of the time, even if we aren't in the same classes. Does that sound stupid?"
She giggled again. "No, I know what you mean. We see each other a lot more this year than we used to, don't we. It's nice, don't you think?"
Harry blew out a breath, hoping he wasn't attracting too much attention to himself. Truth be told, if he spent every waking moment with Ginny he didn't think it could be enough. "It is nice- to be friends," he added as an afterthought.
"Yeah, friends," she sighed reminiscently of something and bumped Harry's hip with her own, knocking him off the path he was treading in the grass.
Harry's jaw dropped open in mock indignation as he watched Ginny smile. Friends? Was that good enough anymore?
Harry rolled over and punched his fist into the pillow, smushing it down. He growled with frustration, not unlike the beast residing in his belly.
Summer's gone he thought with futility. Things were so much easier during the summer, when he could be himself around Ginny and not feel this, this, beast raging inside of him each time he saw her and Dean. He would not trade this summer for anything, nor would he trade his friendship with Ginny for anything. Despite everything that had, or would happen between them he hoped they would at least be friends.
Although it didn't exactly hurt to hope for something more, did it?
hbpficafest entry: A challenge that explored the friendly moments between Harry and Ginny; how they spent the summer, i.e. walks after the quidditch practices