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Author: Calixa Story: Talk Rating: Young Teens Setting: Pre-HBP Status: Completed Reviews: 3 Words: 30,925
Although Ginny wasn't exactly ignoring him anymore, Harry mused the following morning, she wasn't acting normal around him either, which caused him much grief, since both Ron and Hermione had disappeared quite early that day, the way they usually did. Harry was starting to really resent whoever had made them both prefects together. He hadn't minded so much when Ginny was still his friend, since she never ran off and ignored him, and he could always count on her company - but now that option seemed to have gone out the window. Despite the headache it caused him, the events of the previous night kept running through his head, as Harry attempted to pinpoint exactly where he'd gone wrong. Hiding behind the cloak and listening to a conversation that was supposed to be private was probably his first mistake, he thought gloomily. Well, that was Ron's fault. He'd talked Harry into it. Making it seem like he thought the entire issue was "rubbish" was another bad one. But he hadn't meant to do that! He didn't think it was rubbish at all – on the contrary, he felt very seriously about it. It annoyed him ceaselessly that Ginny couldn't see any of that. "Girls," he muttered under his breath, "Always bloody complicating things." Harry ran his hands through his hair, feeling extremely bothered by all of this and unable to think of any way to vent his frustration. Ron came into the common room, looking almost as frustrated as he felt. "Harry, have you seen Colin?" he asked irritably. "No," replied Harry dully, "Why?" Ron rolled his eyes. "The little prat has been running around the school all day, taking pictures of people." "And…?" asked Harry half-heartedly. "Isn't that what Colin always does?" "And people aren't expecting to have their pictures taken when they're – when they're not expecting it!" snapped Ron, his cheeks going slightly red. "He doesn't warn you! He just jumps out of nowhere!" Ron mumbled something about people never taking pictures of him winning Quidditch matches, and sat down next to Harry sulkily. "If he doesn't cut it out I'm giving him detention," he said irritably. "You do that," mumbled Harry, staring at his open Potions book. The words jumbled together in front of his eyes. "Where's Hermione?" asked Ron, "She said she was coming back here after Arithmancy." Harry shrugged, still thinking about his argument with Ginny last night. Hermione came into the common room then, carrying her monstrous load of books and sat down across from Ron cheerfully. "Hermione, have you any idea what Colin's up to?" he demanded, as soon as she'd plopped her books down. "He's taking pictures of people- "Oh, I didn't tell you?" she interrupted, looking mildly surprised. "I've given Colin permission to take pictures around Gryffindor tower." "Why?" asked Ron, flabbergasted. "Because he's the new photographer for our newspaper." Ron looked at Harry, still taken aback. He frowned, and asked warily, "What newspaper?" "Oh, it's still in the planning stages," she replied happily, writing in her homework planner. "Luna and I are going to ask Professor Dumbledore to distribute it among the students once we've got things figured out." "Luna Lovegood?" repeated Ron in apparent disbelief. "You're working on what with her?" "A Hogwarts newspaper," said Hermione proudly, drawing herself up. She beamed at Harry and Ron. "Luna's even agreed to provide a weekly column on the S.P.E.W. events I'm planning. I think it'll bring to the attention of a lot more people the absolutely disgraceful state of house elf welfare." Harry blinked when he heard this. "What have you planned?" "Oh, just some small things," said Hermione dismissively. "The important thing is to get the word out. Once people know that they care, it'll be easy to find things to do." "Right," said Harry, looking down at his Potions homework in dismay. He was quite sure Hermione was going to want him and Ron to help her in S.P.E.W's latest exploits, and Harry was having a hard enough time keeping up with his schoolwork as it was without the added stress of promoting Elvish welfare. "You've gone insane," said Ron slowly, shaking his head. "I mean… Luna Lovegood? Her father owns the Quibbler, Hermione! You hate the Quibbler; you're always saying it's full of rubbish-" "The Quibbler has its moments," said Hermione stiffly, lowering her papers. "Mr. Lovegood agreed to publish that article of Harry's last year, didn't he? In any case, it's better than the Daily Prophet." Ron shook his head. "I still think it's insane." "I think it's a brilliant idea," said Hermione haughtily. "This school needs an active voice for the student body." "You're only saying that because Luna recruited you for her editing team!" said Ron, looking disgruntled. "That and the weekly S.P.E.W. advertisements!" "Co-editor-in-chief, if you must know," she corrected him, calmly jotting down some notes with her quill. "But you've got so much work to do!" Ron persisted, rapping his knuckles on the table. "You've got loads of homework, more than we do!" "I'm up to the challenge," said Hermione coolly. "Yeah," scoffed Ron, "It's going to be a challenge, all right, writing about Nargles and all those soddy make-believe creatures Loony's always on about." Harry glanced up warily. Hermione had that glint in her eye that let him know when she was getting angry, and she definitely was starting to get angry. He'd been witness to enough fights between his two best friends to know when a new row was brewing. "What do you know about journalism, Ron?" she snapped scathingly. "Just because you wouldn't read it doesn't mean that others won't!" Ron gaped at her. "I know plenty about journalism! One minute you're toting free speech and active voices and the next thing you know you've turned into Rita Skeeter all over again!" Hermione looked furious. She gathered her things together and stood up, declaring loudly: "There's no talking to you, Ron Weasley!" and she stalked off into the girls' dormitory. "Just you wait!" Ron yelled after her, "RITA SKEETER!" * Ron was in a foul mood for the rest of the day, and it persisted into Gryffindor team's Quidditch practice later on that afternoon. It was Amanda Hewlins, the new third year Gryffindor Chaser who spotted Ginny first, coming out onto the pitch in her uniform and carrying her broomstick casually. She seemed to be perfectly normal, which unnerved Harry as much as it relieved him to see her approach. "Finally decided to come to practice, I see," said Ron, getting off his broom. Ginny scowled at him. "I haven't forgotten about last night, you know," she said, in a tone that clearly implied he was lucky she'd shown up at all. Ron coughed and averted his eyes. "Yeah…well, reckon we should probably start practice now, eh?" he said, mounting his broom again and rapidly climbing upwards, blowing on the whistle Angelina had given him at the end of last year. ("Take good care of it, Ron," she'd said formally, pressing the little red whistle lovingly into his outstretched, awed hand, while the rest of the team had looked on in respectful silence.) Harry swore Ron went to bed with it hanging around his neck. He snuck a furtive glance at Ginny, not knowing what he was expecting to see, but Ginny merely rolled her eyes. In a few seconds, she had joined Ron and everyone else up in the air, mid-pitch. Quickly, Harry ascended into the air as well, feeling the easy evening breeze against his face and skin. He hadn't realized just how much he loved this – just flying, just being in the air – until he'd been banned from Quidditch by Umbridge during her reign of terror last year at Hogwarts. Harry was very glad Dumbledore was in charge again, and he was quite certain he was not alone in this sentiment. Practice went well at first, with Jack Sloper managing to successfully deflect a Bludger that Ron sent his way and Ginny scoring three consecutive goals against Ron, who looked torn between pleasure that his Chaser was in top form and annoyance that his sister kept getting Quaffles past him. It went so well, in fact, that Harry should have known it wouldn't last. "OK, your turn, Harry!" shouted Ron from the ground thirty minutes later, after Harry had circled the pitch slowly a few times, warming up his muscles. He released the struggling Golden Snitch from his fist, as Harry gripped the handle of his Firebolt, grinning. The Snitch shot out of Ron's hand and darted in unpredictable patterns around the pitch, glinting in the sunlight. Harry did a little swerve and flew after it; savouring the sensation of flying as fast and as far as his Firebolt could take him. He was doing quite fine until the Snitch suddenly switched paths, back towards Ron's goalposts. Harry turned sharply, narrowly avoiding a Bludger Sloper had hit in his direction (by accident, he assumed), and went after the Snitch. He was within five feet of it when Ginny suddenly darted out from below him, clutching the Quaffle beneath her arm and looking determined. Harry cantered to the left, attempting to grab the Snitch with a swipe of his right hand before Ginny got in his way, but it fluttered just out of his reach. He cursed as Ginny shot headlong past him, and they nearly collided with one another. The Snitch hovered by her knee as she took aim, pausing ever so slightly, and Harry hesitated, before making up his mind to just go for it. He didn't expect, however, to get a face full of her hair, streaming behind her in the wind. "Get out of it, Harry!" snapped Ginny, as he grabbed her ankle instead, in the midst of what seemed like a blinding sea of red hair. Harry let go of her foot, feeling like an utter fool. The Quaffle flew towards the goalposts, but as Ginny had been distracted, her aim was off and Ron intercepted it easily. "Damn," she muttered, as Ron flew towards them. "What happened?" he demanded, drawing close. "Harry, you almost had the Snitch there!" "I know," said Harry, embarrassed. "But I missed-" "He got my ankle," said Ginny sarcastically, and Harry noticed that she still hadn't looked at him once all practice. "What were you doing in his way?" Ron asked indignantly, much to Harry's surprise. "I was trying to score!" she said crossly, staring daggers at him, "If Harry hadn't gotten in my way I would have!" Great, another row, thought Harry, mentally preparing himself for it. Weasley feuds were never pretty, and both Ron and Ginny looked quite riled up and ready for battle. If there was one thing that got Ron worked up, it was Quidditch. "Who cares about that!" said Ron, annoyed. "He could have caught the Snitch!" "It's not my fault he missed!" "You should have stayed out of the way!" Ron retorted, and Harry cringed at the look of utter disdain Ginny threw him. "It's the Snitch that wins the game, not one goal!" She had gone a bright red that somehow outshone even her fiery head of hair, a sight which worried Harry tremendously. The other team members had all congregated in the far corners of the pitch, watching apprehensively. He edged back a little, and noticed that Ron seemed to have come to his senses finally, and was now talking in a reconciliatory tone. "That's not what I meant," he said hastily, taking in the look on her face. "It's just that sometimes you've got to make sacrifices for the better good of the game, like in chess… once goal for the Snitch is a fair trade, I reckon, don't you?" He paused, looked at her hopefully. Ginny was silent, and Harry could see that she was trying with all her might to control her temper. "Fine," she snapped eventually, turning away. "I'll stay out of his way, then." Ron looked at Harry in relief. "Resume play!" he shouted, blowing on his whistle, and everyone flew back to their previous positions once more. The rest of the practice wasn't much fun anymore – not for Harry, at least. He had to avoid Ginny twice, flying around her in a wide arc instead of directly past her, for fear of provoking another scene, and thus missing the Snitch again. Ginny acted as though she didn't see him doing this, and went out of her way to avoid him, which only led to more confusion as they both flew in wide circles around each other, trying to be as far apart as possible. Eventually, after Harry had unintentionally botched up three scoring attempts by flying into the path of the Quaffle, and after Ginny had suddenly careened out of the way of the Snitch directly into a Bludger (which left a nasty bruise on her arm) Ron blew on his whistle again, and threw down his broom. "Enough!" he yelled, indicating that practice was over. Everyone sighed, some with relief, some with impending doom. Harry felt more of the latter. They landed in front of Ron – Ginny taking care not to look at Harry – and let their brooms drop to the ground as he came towards them. Ron glowered. "Look – you two can't play Quidditch this way. I don't care. You're either going to work it out among yourselves-" "Work what out, exactly?" said Ginny, irritated. "Why are you making such a big fuss out of this?" Harry was quite sure he knew why, but in case he was wrong, he didn't say anything about it. Ron ignored her, and said threateningly, "-or I'll have to find replacements." "Yeah right," she scoffed, picking up her broom. Ginny looked at the two Beaters pointedly, which Harry understood as a reminder to Ron that this was the best they could get. "Good luck with that." She turned and left, leaving Ron speechless and Harry somehow more miserable than before.
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