Emerald
?Bell scores, another ten points for Gryffindor! They lead Slytherin ninety to seventy.? Dean?s voice was almost lost in the roaring of the crowd. The first game of the Quidditch season was well under way, with sixth year Gryffindor Dean Thomas replacing Lee Jordan as announcer. Dean had been nervous about his new job, but soon the excitement of the crowd caught on and he was thoroughly enjoying himself.
On the pitch the Seekers hovered high above the rest of the game, staying well away from the bludgers that were shot in their direction all too often. Harry scanned the air around him, trying to spot the snitch. Draco simply watched Harry, knowing that, as always, Harry would be the first one to see it. Below them, the rest of their teams were caught up in the game, but neither of the seekers paid much attention. The Gryffindor team had experienced a substantial loss when the Weasley twins graduated, but their replacements, Ron Weasley and Seamus Finnegan, were doing well. The Slytherin team roster was as it had been for the last two seasons, and they still used the same dirty playing style.
Draco allowed his eyes to wander down to the rest of the game, being careful to keep Potter in his peripheral vision, in case he moved. That Slytherin was being out- played was evident even to the most biased observer, but with the Nimbus 2001s that Draco?s father had purchased the team four years ago, they were at least able to out-fly the Gryffindor Chasers. Then, out of the corner of his right eye he saw a flash of gold and spun around to follow it
Harry, seeing Draco had moved, turned and chased after him. The wind whipped through his unruly black hair and stung his eyes. His vision became focused and his world narrowed to Draco and the snitch.
??seekers have spotted?.? Snippets of Dean?s announcements made their way to Ginny, who was guarding the Gryffindor hoops. She turned her eyes to the boys for a moment. They were both so elegant when they flew. Silver and black, green and red, they were a blur of brilliant colors. Movement off to her left brought her attention back to the rest of the game. Two Slytherin Chasers bore down on her with amazing speed. The leftmost sent off a powerful shot towards the center hoop and Ginny darted upwards to block it.
Harry had come up even with Draco when something large, hard and brown whacked him in the side of the head, knocking him from the broom. He felt his body plummeting to the earth and wondered if he would survive the impact. He opened his eye briefly and saw the grass only meters from him. He contemplated for a moment what it felt like to die, and how ironic it was that he, The-Boy-Who-Lived, might be killed by a bludger.
Draco noticed Potter?s absence and turned to look for him. He saw Harry?s slight form plummeting headfirst towards the ground and shot down after him. He bent low over his broom, diving at a breakneck speed towards the ground; if Harry hit at that angle, he could be killed. He drew nearer every second, but could not reach Harry before he hit.
?A bludger has knocked Potter off his broom?? In the stands Hermione raised her eyes from the book she had been reading. She leaned forward and scanned desperately to see where Harry was. She saw him hit the ground with at a sickening angle while Draco, only seconds behind him, landed lightly and ran to his side. She turned quickly away and ran down to the pitch.
Two shrill whistles split the air, drawing the attention of anyone who was not already rushing toward Harry?s fallen form. ?I want all brooms on the ground this instant! This game has been cancelled!? Madame Hooch?s full, deep voice carried easily across the pitch.
Ginny aimed her broom towards the gathering crowd. Her only thoughts were to get to her boyfriend and make sure he was ok. Tears of panic formed in the corners of her brilliant (Ginny?s Eyes are Light Brown) blue eyes, blinding her. Landing heavily on the grass she threw her broom aside and worked her way quickly through the mob.
Harry?s body lay still and cold on the grass. His neck was bent at an impossible angle and blood flowed from his nose and mouth. A bluish tone had replaced the usual pink pallor of his fair skin, and his emerald eyes were glazed over. Draco felt the bile rise in his throat. He turned and pushed away from the body. The one student who had ever meant anything to him was dead. He searched the crowd for a way to escape and caught a flash of long red hair. ?Oh no,?he thought. ?Ginny, she?ll be destroyed. He loved her so much. I can?t let her see him like this.? He pushed aside a nosy third year and reached for Ginny?s arm.
?Let go!? Ginny?s voice was high pitched from worrying. ?I need to get to Harry.? She struggled to pull away from the arms that held her. ?Let go!? A well-aimed kick loosened his grip and she made a run for it. Ginny wove her way through the crowd, well aware that Draco was following close behind her, but not caring. Pushing her way through a pair of crying fourth-year Ravenclaws she got her first glimpse of Harry. Her breath came short and darkness clouded her vision. This isn?t happening. Forcing her way past another clump of sobbing students Ginny fell to her knees at Harry?s side. ?No!? she cried, ?Harry! No...? Her voice dissolved into tears of desolation and despair. ?You can?t die now.? Her fierce whisper was nearly inaudible; her voice was so clogged with tears. ?I love you.? Burying her pale face in his chest she let the sobs escape.
A pair of strong arms lifted her shaking body and pulled her into a comforting embrace. She clung to him like a drowning person to a life raft, while he stroked her hair and murmured soothing words.
Sobs racked Hermione?s body as she clung to Ron. Harry looked so small and delicate, lying there in the grass, surrounded by blood that matched the crimson of his Quidditch robes. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut to block the sight, but it was engraved in her eyelids.
Ron ran his hands up and down her back trying to comfort her. His eyes were fixed on Harry?s lifeless form. This can?t be happening he thought, it?s just a nightmare. All around him he could hear students crying, and teachers, with voice thick with suppressed emotion, trying to move the students to their common rooms. Slowly the crowd on the pitch dispersed, until only a handful of students remained. Madame Hooch and Madame Pomfrey magicked the body onto a stretcher and carried it to the infirmary.
Draco watched the solemn procession over the top of Ginny?s head, blinking rapidly to dispel the tears that had gathered unbidden at the corners of his soft, gray eyes. He couldn?t believe what was happening to them. Just minutes ago he and Harry (he wasn?t Potter any more, the hate had died with the boy and now only respect and sorrow remained) had been hovering above the pitch, and now? involuntarily his grasp tightened around the slender redhead he still held in his arms. Ginny was still shaking, although silently. ?It?ll be ok.? He whispered, not believing what he said, but needing to hear it as much as he knew she did.
The small crowd on the pitch huddled together in pairs ,comforting and being comforted in turn far into the night, until, at last, one of the professors came to bring them into the school.
Six months later?(here you said it wad been six months but down below you said it was only a month)
Ginny pulled herself to a sitting position, wincing as a searing pain shot through her head ,a result of the sudden change in elevation. It had been over a month since Harry?s death and she still cried herself to sleep every night. She was doing it again, the same as she had after first year. After Tom. She shook her head in a vain attempt to get him out of her head. Tom had betrayed her, used her, but she had loved him, and it had hurt. Then there was Harry. She felt a familiar lump forming in her throat. Harry had been the perfect boyfriend. He?d always tried to understand her. He?d met Tom, and had been betrayed by Tom. They?d shared a hatred for the charismatic schoolboy who had become the Dark Lord everyone feared, and this hatred was the bond that kept them together. Harry had been the one to rescue her from Tom as well as her own personal hero.
Ginny allowed her mind to turn back through the years to when she?d first seen Harry. It was Ron?s first year and she had been just turned ten. She, like all wizards and witches, had heard about The-Boy-Who-Lived .When she had seen the scar on Harry?s forehead, she?d been stunned. The pale, skinny boy with the unruly black hair, ugly glasses and brilliant green eyes had seemed so unsure of himself. She had let her imagination wander, imagining that she would be the one to erase that fear from his eyes. This childish daydream had grown to a full-out obsession over that impossibly long year. By the time the day to pick her brothers up at Platform 9 ? arrived, Ginny was certain she was in love with Harry, and that, with time, he would see he was in love with her, too. When Harry had suddenly appeared at the breakfast table one morning at the end of summer, Ginny had blushed like crazy and ran upstairs. She had watched him from afar for the duration of his stay at the Burrow, doing stupid things, such as sticking her elbow in butter every time he looked her way.
Ginny smiled at the memory. What a little girl she had been then. Imagining herself in love with someone she had never met. She knew now it had not been love, but a fantasy created by her over-active imagination. In time it had turned to love. She remembered the fluttering feeling in her stomach in third year when Harry had asked her to go to the Yule Ball with him. She felt sure that he had begun to notice her, she had almost said yes, but she was already committed to going with Neville. The ball had been wonderful, Neville was a perfect gentleman and she knew she looked amazing in her dress robes, even if they weren?t exactly new. Harry had noticed her that night, and over the summer their relationship had grown into something very special. Ginny let her eyes drift closed, a single tear traced its way down her cheek as she pictured the evening Harry had asked her out.
*** flash back***
Moonlight illuminated the garden, making the roses look alive and dark shadows dance across the night. Silver beams of light glistened on the surface of a near by lake. Tiny fireflies flitted to and fro, playing in the mild midnight air. A tender breeze whispered its way through the trees. Ginny sat beside her favorite tree, leaning against its smooth bark, gazing into the night. A soft voice beside her brought a smile to her lips. ?Hullo, Harry.? She said, turning to face him. His green eyes were shining softly and she found herself blushing under the tenderness of him gaze.
?Ginny,? His voice was husky, ?I?? he licked his lips nervously, ?Willyougooutwithme?? he spoke so fast that she nearly lost the words.
She smiled, turning her body so that she was facing him she spoke, ?Yes.? Her smile widened into more of a grin. ?Yes I will.?
Harry?s eyes lit up and the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile. He reached out and gently stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. She sighed and closed her eyes in contentment. This was what she had always wanted, to be able to sit with Harry like this, knowing that her ardor was returned. She leaned towards him and brushed her lips against his, her first kiss. With a faint smile and brilliantly red cheeks Ginny rose. ?Goodnight, Harry,? she murmured.
The next morning, Ginny opened her eyes to see a bouquet of wild flowers in a vase on her nightstand. She smiled and reached for the piece of parchment that was folded and propped against it.
Good morning.
You are more beautiful than the sunset and sweeter than any rose. Each one of these flowers is a reminder of my love and affection for you.
~ Harry ~
Ginny set the precious note back on her nightstand, a huge smile on her lips. She was going out with Harry! Humming a song to herself, Ginny threw on an outfit and clattered downstairs. The sight that met her eyes left her speechless. Harry sat alone at the large kitchen table, he smiled and rose to greet her when he saw her standing, mouth gaping, in the doorway.
The usually crowded table was set for two and decorated with roses. All her favorite breakfast foods were there and a small, neatly wrapped package sat on her plate. Ginny felt Harry grasp her hand and lead her to the table. ?I asked your family for a favor.? He said, as if it were no big deal.
The meal was perfect. Harry and Ginny pigged out on blueberry waffles, sausages, scrambled eggs and fruit salad, all the while talking about the interesting points of their past. Ginny talked about her first year, about Tom, and Harry told her about his life before he knew he was a wizard. Their conversation lasted for an hour or so before Harry got impatient and asked Ginny to open the parcel.
She lifted the perfectly wrapped packaged and pulled off the paper. ?Oh,? she exclaimed softly opening the small box in her hands, ?Harry, It?s beautiful.? She lifted the dainty gold chain, the pendant sparkled in the morning sun. It was shaped like a snitch, and, as she watched it, it unfurled its wings and flew in tiny circles and zigzags. Ginny giggled in delight.
?I?m glad you like it.? Harry smiled. He had moved to sit beside her while she opened his gift and his breath brushed softly against the back of her neck when he spoke.
Ginny turned to smile at him and he leaned in towards her, her breathing came a little quicker, his lips pressed against her. They were soft and warm. Ginny buried her fingers in his unruly black hair and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Harry?s arms slipped round her waist and she melted into his embrace.
They pulled apart after a short while and Harry helped her put on the necklace. It shimmered against the green of her blouse, the golden snitch fluttering madly to and fro. ?It flies like that when I?m thinking of you,? Harry said softly. Ginny smiled. It was all so perfect.
*** end flashback***
Ginny opened her eyes and reached for a handkerchief to wipe her eyes. She was finally able to remember the good things about her time with Harry, rather than focusing on the fact that he was gone. Instinctively she reached for the tiny snitch on her necklace. It had been still for over a month, and was a constant reminder of what she had lost, yet Ginny could not bring herself to take it off. Harry was still too near to her heart, and he had wanted her to wear it always.
* * *
Draco collapsed onto his bed, exhausted. He was always exhausted these days. Ever since Potter died he hadn?t been able to sleep, at least not without the soothing feeling of alcohol in his veins. He had already downed two Mai Tai?s that evening and there was another on his bedside table. Today had been particularly horrible because it was the first match of the Quidditch season since Potter?s accident. It had been Ravenclaw v. Hufflepuff, but he had gone anyways, and every time a seeker dived, or a chaser evaded a bludger, Draco had felt a cold, sick sensation in his stomach. Gryffindor had withdrawn their team this year, not wishing to replace Harry, so Slytherin didn?t play again for months. Draco was glad for this, he wasn?t sure he ever wanted to play again, and the time off exactly was what he needed to make up his mind.
Reaching for his drink Draco let himself remember.
*** Flashback***
Draco sat moodily in the empty compartment at the back of the train. Summer had dragged on like never before, his father had been furious about Draco?s final run in with Harry on the train home and had given him a huge list of tasks. He had been forced to study for at least four hours a day, and his flying, except for rigorous Quidditch training sessions, had been cut off. For a finale to the perfect summer, Lucius had requested (AKA demanded) that his son not only be polite to Potter, but that he try to gain the other boy?s respect and trust. Draco sighed irritably. This year was going to be horrible. The only fun to be had at school was in bullying Potter, Weasel and that know-it-all Granger; he just knew this year would be the worst ever. He couldn?t even taunt the youngest Weasley, disappointment, since she and Potter were practically glued to each other?s hand.
Draco?s foul mood lasted for a few weeks as he obstinately tried to ignore the blatant hints in his father?s letters, and simply pretended not to notice The-Boy-Who-Lived-And-Had-A-Clique.(Cute) But the irritation wore off and he began to think about his father?s plan. He still didn?t like it, because Potter was such a prat and Draco loathed him, but, still, Potter could possibly be useful. Lucius would be proud of his son if he managed to befriend such a rich source of information..
As soon as he had made up his mind to try to get close to Potter, Draco needed a plan. It wasn?t hard to come by one; he wasn?t a Slytherin for nothing. He decided to ask Snape to pair him with Potter on the major end-of-term potions project. Snape was a little suspicious, but he agreed the pair the two together. After all , there was nothing he liked better than to piss off the Gryffindors. So Draco had a plan, now all he needed to do was be nice. Not something he was good at, but he figured the Malfoy charm was a good substitute for pleasantness.
Only a month into the school year Snape announced the classes? first major project. They were to work in pairs and research an ancient potion that was no longer needed, and write seven feet of parchment on the subject. There were some groans from the class at this announcement, but these were nothing compared to the outburst when Potter and Malfoy were paired for it. Draco smirked, imagining the ruckus that would occur if they ever suspected that he had ASKED to be partnered with Wonder Boy. Potter had looked shocked, but hadn?t complained, he simply glared at Draco.
Draco, throwing away the Malfoy charms for a moment, met Potter?s glare with a self-satisfied smirk. Then, remembering what was at stake, smiled sweetly and turned his attention back to the front of the room.
A week later found Draco sitting in the darkest, most secluded corner of the library, waiting for Potter to get in from Quidditch practice, and actually looking forward to the boy?s arrival.
The project was coming along very well and he and Potter had only had one fight, and that was on the first day of working together. Surprisingly, after their fight they got along very well. The work was easy, if time consuming, and they had worked side by side for hours. There hadn?t been much by way of conversation, but the silences were always companionable. As time had passed Draco had realized that he had been afraid that being polite to Potter would make him invisible in the other boy?s eyes. He hadn?t noticed before, but he always scanned every room he entered to catch a sight of the tousled black hair, only able to relax completely if he could see it. There was part of him that had still carried the hurt from first year, when Harry had chosen a Weasley over him. Mostly though, Draco found himself simply wanting to be noticed by Harry, to be the cause of emotion in those emerald eyes. He didn?t know what it was that fueled this desire, but it was there all the same, it always had been.
When Potter arrived for that evening?s work session, things settled into what was becoming a routine for the pair. Harry sat across the table from Draco, a pile of books sat in between them. They would write and page through books silently, occasionally asking questions or making comments about interesting stuff they found. Putting down his quill and reaching for another book Draco sneaked a glance at Harry. A lock of black hair hung down over Harry?s left eye, moving slightly with every blink, he was biting one lip in concentration as he copied facts from the huge volume at his right. Draco caught himself, mid sigh and shook his head. It was Potter. What was he doing, he HATED Potter. Right?
*** end flashback ***
?Draco!? The irritating voice of Blaise Zabini snapped Draco into a sitting position.
?What?? He rubbed his head, which was aching from the sudden motion, glaring menacingly at the girl in his doorway.
?Oh, chill out,? She said with a wide, fake smile, ?we just wanted to chat.?
?We?? Draco was horrified, he had organized many of these ?chats? and they were never pleasant.
?Yes. We.? The door swung open again to reveal the faces of Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle. ?We?re worried about you.? Blaise finished, with a toss of her silky black hair, settling on the edge of his bed.
By this point Draco was getting seriously angry. They pitied him? Him? He could feel steam radiating from his every pore. With a hostile glare he rose and strode out of the room, leaving the small group of Slytherins sitting stunned.
