13. Chapter 13: Harry

This story is becoming more successful than I'd hoped. :3 Thank you for all your reviews. I loved hearing from you.

Harry is a BIT angsty in the beginning of this chapter. There won't be much more angst after that, though. I hate angsty Harrys. "."

&... ABRACADABRA!

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10 Ways to Kill Draco Malfoy

Chapter 13

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HARRY

Quidditch season is coming up. Actually, Gryffindor's first match is tomorrow - Monday. And our opponent is none other than the Slytherin team.

This should be an easy game, even though I haven't been flying in the holidays at all. I did manage to fit a few hours of riding my Firebolt between homework these past days, and I don't think I've gotten worse.

My Firebolt... the only thing that's left from Sirius. I'd smashed that mirror he'd given me, and the lock-picking knife had disappeared to nowhere. I kept wishing that I could see him again... just hear his bark-like laugh, see his gaunt, but grinning face. That scene of his death, when he fell through the arch, keeps playing over and over in my head whenever I think of him. Talking to Luna last year had helped ease my grief a little, but I still wasn't convinced that Sirius was hiding out of view behind the veil. My Godfather would have come out there straight away. He wasn't the type to keep me wondering.

I shake my head to get rid of the thoughts. I'd already mourned Sirius enough in the past few months. There's no point drowning in despair, which is what will definitely happen if I kept thinking about him. I concentrate on the Charms review test in front of me and dip my eagle-feather quill into the small pot of ink sitting next to my papers.

After the lesson, Ron and I walk together to lunch, discussing the test and what we'd put down. "What did you write for number 12? I couldn't figure that out," I complain, glancing at Ron.

He shrugs. "I think I put, 'Cheering Charms'."

I stop. "'Cheering Charms'!" I ask, starting to laugh. "You put 'Cheering Charms' for that question?"

Ron looks confused. "What?"

"The question said, 'What charm is used to depress the person it is cast on?'"

"Oops," he says sheepishly. "I wasn't concentrating. I was thinking about the Quidditch match with Slytherin - coming up tomorrow!" He punches the air excitedly. "I can't wait to kick Malfoy's ass, after all he's done to us."

It seems that most of the Gryiffindors feel the same. People like Seamus and Dean have started to mutter ominously about past quidditch accidents whenever they pass a Slytherin player. Obviously they are trying to creep them out, and make the other team lose focus.

Hermione looks quite happy about the upcoming game, too. When I asked her early this morning, after she came back from the lake and before she went to the Prefects bathroom, why she was grinning madly all of a sudden, she told me nothing was up, she'd just had a really good morning. Apparently she got her top washed (finally). Still, I don't think that would be enough to put a huge grin like that on her face.

"You're coming to watch the match, aren't you?" I ask Hermione now after finding her at the Great Hall. Ron seats himself on my other side, an expectant look on his face as he stares at the empty plates.

Hermione smiles. "Of course! I wouldn't miss it for the world. And..." She lowers her voice and glances around. "... it would be a good time for me to do something to him without people getting too suspicious."

I had realized a few days back that Hermione was serious about the killing-Malfoy thing. Of course, I support her all the way. Who, in Gryffindor, wouldn't? "Great... just be careful. Snape's refereeing the match. I don't want you to get caught - or you might get expelled." I shudder. "Even if you're a top student. I'm sure Snape'll do everything he can to get rid of one of us."

She nods. "I know... we've been here for five whole years, and there hasn't been a day when he doesn't glare at us. It's really depressing, you know."

"Yeah," I laugh. "Though if Snape started smiling at everyone, they'd probably put him in St Mungo's."

After lunch, we head to our lessons. Between homework and the occasional quidditch practice (organized by yours truly, the new team Captain), we have hardly any free time that night. Before I know it, it is Monday morning.

I glance at my watch as I get up. "Ah! It's already six," I shout to nobody in particular, and hurry downstairs with my shirt half-on, purple quidditch robes over my arm. And guess who is downstairs at that very moment.

Ginny.

She takes one look at me and goes bright red. "H-Harry? Quidditch match, I suppose?"

I blush and quickly pull on my shirt properly. I don the robes as fast as I can and when I am satisfied that I am completely covered, I look up at Ginny. Of all the people to meet while I am practically bare-chested, it just has to be Ginny. Talk about bad luck. "Um, yeah. What are you doing up at this time of morning?"

"I was going to watch you practise before the game," she says, grinning. "And see Ron make a fool of himself. He just can't play well without being pressured. Hopefully he'll do well in the actual match."

I nod. "Yeah... it's really strange. Everyone else hates the pressure of a big match, but Ron needs it to do his best."

"Well... shall we go down to breakfast?" She links her arm through mine and marches me towards the potrait-hole. "Come on!" And we go down to the Great Hall, a redhead beauty dragging a very pink me along.

At the Gryffindor table, I see that Ron and Hermione are already there. Ginny waves furiously at them, and Hermione's face cracks into a big smile. Ron looks as if he's trying hard not to fall asleep at the table. Most of the time he fails to hide his yawning, and at one point he drops onto the table to sleep and lands his face into a bowl of hot porridge. That wakes him up effectively, and he is kept busy trying to wipe the porridge off his face.

Hermione waves back madly at us. "Harry! Ginny! This way!" As if I haven't seen her yet.

I give her a grin and, gesturing to Ginny, head in her direction. "G'morning, Hermione, Ron."

"So what have you two been up to?" Hermione smiles as she looks at me and then Ginny. Somehow Hermione's smile looks a bit strained, but I can't tell what's wrong, and since she's obviously trying to hide her discomfort with something I decide not to ask. Hopefully it's just something about her plans about Malfoy.

I turn bright red again. Damn. Just when I'd managed to drain the color from my face so I looked normal. "Er, nothing."

"Ginny!" It is Dean Thomas. "Come sit with us for a while!" He doesn't notice the glare I send him, and Ginny stands up with an apologetic glance at me.

"Sorry! I'll come to the tactics talk, don't worry." And before I can do anything, she bends down and gives me a little peck on the cheek. My face, if it was red before, is now burning scarlet. Then she leaves and goes to sit with Dean and Seamus. It's funny how popular she is with the guys.

"You should have asked her to stay," Hermione scolds me.

"Why? I shouldn't stop her from talking to other guys."

"Oh, Harry!" She pokes me. "You're so dense! Can't you tell she likes you! If you had at least asked her to stay, she'd have felt you actually appreciate her. And that little kiss was proof."

"It was just a friendly kiss on the cheek," I mumble, averting my gaze from her.

"Just a friendly kiss! Are you a troll, Harry?" Hermione looks exasperated now. Ron is still busy wiping his face, a disgusted expression on his face. "You're even slower than Ron when it comes to girls!"

"Hey! I heard that," Ron yells from behind her. Hermione gives him a grin and he laughs. "Oh, so you're giving Harry the talk."

"What talk?" I ask.

Hermione ignores my question. "What I'm trying to say here, Harry, is that you should ask Ginny out."

I gape at her. "Ask... ask Ginny out! Who do you think I am, Superman? I can't do that! She'll reject me! She's got loads of boys lined up at her door, in case you haven't noticed."

She snorts. "I've noticed, alright. I'm her best friend. But I can tell she likes you."

"Give me proof."

"One. That kiss just now." Hermione crosses her arms. "Two. She always blushes when you're around."

"Is that it?"

"Wait, I have more. Three, she always talks about you. Four, she always stares at you for no reason."

"OK, OK. I get the poin-"

"Five, she tries to talk to you. Six, she offers to help you with your homework."

I remember that night when Ginny and Hermione had suddenly asked if I'd done my Potions essay and had forced me to finish it, with their help. "Alright, I know. You don't have to say anymo-"

"Seven..."

"I said, I get the point."

"Seven..."

"HERMIONE! I KNOW! STOP GIVING ME REASONS!"

She stands up, smiling. "THAT'S ONLY BECAUSE YOU WON'T ADMIT YOU LIKE GINNY WEASLEY!" The satisfied grin on her face is a stark contrast to her screaming.

The whole hall falls silent at her words. I look at Ginny quickly, and notice that she is crimson, giggling with a few of her friends, who are staring pointedly at me. I turn away quickly before she notices me, and glare at Hermione, who is holding back laughter. "You should have seen your face, Harry! Now that the school knows, you'd better get to it. Ask her out."

I sigh, but inside I am beaming. I feel like jumping around screaming with glee. I now have an excuse to ask her out without looking desperate. "Hermione... thanks." I grin at her.

Hermione laughs. "Just make it soon. I wanna see you guys snogging as soon as possible."

"HERMIONE!" I yell, swinging a plate at her, and she shouts with laughter as she ducks. It's a good thing Hermione's smile looks fully natural now.

A few minutes later, I am out on the Quidditch field, Firebolt in hand. After discussing tactics with my team, consisting now of me as Seeker, Ron as Keeper, Ginny, Heather Wilde and Georgina Thompson - the first new team member a 7th year and the latter a 5th year - as Chasers. Jack Mulberra and Cameron Smith are the new beaters, both 5th years. With Lee Jordan gone, Seamus is now the new commentator, though not before Lee managed to give Seamus a few lessons on how to commentate and how to insult the Slytherins without getting McGonagall too mad.

"Annnnd, in the red corner, is the GRYFFINDORS! Yeah!"

A loud cheer rises from the red and gold crowd, while the Slytherins boo nearly as loudly. "Annnnd... in the green corner, is the SLYTHERINS! Eat dirt, you scu- ow!"

Professor McGonagall obviously finds this comment to be unsuitable, because she'd cuffed Seamus around the head. "Finnigan! Don't make rude comments!"

"Sorry, Professor," Seamus apologizes, grinning. "So... LET THE MATCH BEGIN!"

Madam Hooch's whistle blows, and suddenly we all kick off. The Quaffle is in our possession, and I count on Ginny, Heather and Georgina to score some goals while I search for the Snitch.

A flash of gold near the bottom of the field catches my eye, and I dive down towards it. I notice Malfoy is tailing me, obviously trying to follow me and then overtake me at the last second. But the gold flicker is gone, and I curse silently. I fly up and Malfoy joins me as we both look around for the Snitch.

"I heard you're in love with that Weasley girl." He smirks at me, flicking his shaggy blond hair back.

I eye him warily. "Yeah, so what if I am?"

"Then I hope you don't mind leaving Granger," he says before making a fast dive. I ponder his strange words as I follow him.

Suddenly, right before my eyes, the tail of his robes catches blue flames. I suppress laughter and yell out. "Malfoy!"

"What?" he shouts back, zooming directly for the gold glint he'd spotted.

"Your robes are on fir- argggggh!" The flames, blown by the wind, has started to catch on the tip of my broomstick. "Stop, Malfoy! You're making my broom burn!"

He doesn't listen, and only when he feels the blue heat on his back does he yelp and skid to a dramatic stop in midair. I nearly crash into him. "Oh, God! I'm on fire! Help!"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," I mutter as I try, unsuccessfully, to douse the flame with a Aguamenti spell. "Damn! This flame won't go out."

The only person I know who can make a undousable flame is none other than - Hermione. I glance at the Gryffindor crowd and spot her with Ron and Dean. The smug grin on her face tells it all. And as dangerous as it is, I can't help laughing.

"What's so funny, Potter?" Malfoy yells, beating at the flames. "Time out! Time out, Madam Hooch! Ahhhh, it's burning my back!" He flies down to the ground and immediately, and Madams Hooch and Pomfrey rush towards him.

"My goodness! Who did this to you, boy?"

He glares at me. "I don't know. But I suspect it might be Potter and his gang."

Professor McGonagall snorts derisively. "Potter was on the broomstick the whole time. I was watching him. As for his friends, I'm pretty sure they wouldn't be the kind to pull something like this. But I will question them."

The game has been forfeited, and I leap off my Firebolt. The flames have now disappeared from my robes, but are still burning fiercely on Malfoy. However, to my amazement, it isn't searing his skin and there is no sign of burnt flesh, even where the blue fire licks at his bare back. It seems that it only burns clothes, and nothing else.

Hermione, you're a genius. I don't think I'll ever forget the look on Malfoy's face when he realized his clothes were on fire. Ever.

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Hope you enjoyed it. :D