Chapter 20 - "The Ties That Bind"

"Potter scores again! England is now tied with Australia!"

Harry hopped to his feet, cheering, and taking care not to drop baby James as he did so. The black-haired infant was eagerly watching the game, and Harry had been taking great joy in pointing out Ginny to their son whenever she flew by. (Not, of course, that the boy's mother was anything other than a red-and-blue blur to his infant eyes.) Harry couldn't have been prouder of his wife, truth be told. For most female Quidditch players, a baby meant the end of their careers. It almost had for Ginny, too, but just a few weeks after James had been born, she'd been offered a shot at the National Team once again - a team that had a real shot at the World Cup for once. They'd discussed it, and Harry had taken some time off from the Auror Office while she'd gotten herself back into shape. And she'd done it and done it well, because the World Cup was something she had always, always wanted - and something Harry had always wanted for her.

He was, naturally, surrounded by family. There were so many of them these days, they'd actually had to pay for tickets for half of the bunch, owing to the fact that they were over the allowed number of tickets players could hand out to family. Teddy was seated next to him, cheering right alongside for his godmother, his hair periodically cycling through the particular shades of red and blue that decorated the Union Jack. Ron and Hermione were there, of course, the latter just starting to show with their first child. Ron maintained it would be a son, but these days, the odds were on Weasley girls, not boys...

On the other side of Teddy were Victoire and Dominique. Victoire was the spitting image of Fleur, but her sister Dominique seemed to have drawn much more from Bill than her mother. Bill was here as well, though Fleur had stayed home with the new baby. And there was Charlie, and then Percy - Audrey was watching their twin girls with Fleur. Audrey wasn't altogether fond of Quidditch stadiums. Or brooms. Or with anything that caused her feet to leave the ground, really. Penelope had been more fond of Quidditch, Harry remembered sadly. Still, it was good that Percy had found a woman like Audrey. She grounded him.

George was here, of course - Angelina was the manager for the National team, which Ginny was captaining. Audrey and Fleur had kept Fred with them. Privately, though, Harry had to wonder at the wisdom of pairing Fred, Molly and Lucy all together. It did seem to just be asking for trouble. The three were very much like the departed namesake of George's oldest, especially when paired up. Angelina was pregnant as well. (Someone always was, these days.) Harry rather thought Hannah and Neville were expecting, too. And the Finnegans. And the Thomases. And Ginny had heard from Astoria - even the Malfoys were expecting. Maybe it was something in the water?

The last time he'd done a guest-lecture at Hogwarts, Minerva had even confided that she was intending to retire before the wave of Weasley-Potter spawn descended on Hogwarts. She didn't think her heart was up to the task. Harry chuckled at the thought - he didn't think he'd have been up to the task, either - and then had his attention drawn back to the game again as the announcer called Ginny's name once more.

"And Australia gets a penalty for some blatant blagging. Potter takes the shot - and it's good! England is now up by ten! If Benson can catch the Snitch - and, wait, there it is! Oh, Merlin, YES! Benson is neck and neck with Australia's Seeker, Roderick Castlemane - and... Benson's got it! England wins the World Cup! England wins the World Cup!"

And Harry, James in hand, was back on his feet again, cheering just as wildly as everyone else. Even in the rush of the crowd, he could feel Ginny's excitement shining through as clear as a beacon on a dark night. He didn't have to look long, and she was there, his angel astride her broom. Their eyes met, and then Ginny kissed him.

He could barely hear the announcer over the cheers, but to be fair, Harry was not paying all that much attention.

"And yes, it looks like Potter's found her husband for their traditional victory kiss. And... it's still going. Come on, you two, this is a family event!"

Harry and Ginny both glared (good-naturedly) on the announcer's box, and he cast a Sonorus charm on himself before answering: "Stuff it, Lee!"

Everyone around them laughed, and Ginny leaned in closer, to whisper something in his ear. "Harry, I found out something this morning," she confided, her face beaming.

"Yeah?"

"I'm pregnant again."

Harry pulled back, and knew the joy in her eyes matched his own. "Yeah?" he asked again.

"Yeah," she answered, her smile spreading ever wider.

"Brilliant," Harry declared.

Harry shook himself awake - and had to fight to keep his face from breaking out in a silly grin. He was able to recall more of the dream this time - Ginny playing at the World Cup was a particularly pleasant one. Though if pressed, he would probably admit that the end was really his favorite part. Given that the tryouts for the Gryffindor team were this afternoon, it wasn't difficult to figure out where, precisely, the inspiration for the very vivid dream had come from. As for the other parts... well, Harry could figure out the inspiration for those parts, too.

He'd kipped up in the dorm for a quick nap after lunch, and his battered gold watch confirmed it had been just over an hour and change since he'd laid down. Still, Harry felt refreshed and decided to set out to find Ginny and the others. It wouldn't be long now until it was time for the tryouts - they were likely down near the pitch already. After a quick change into his practice robes, Harry grabbed his Thunderbolt and slung it over his shoulder.

The common room was empty as Harry passed through, save for a pair of first year boys studiously organizing their chocolate frog card collection.

"I got Sirius Black!" Harry heard one of them call just as he was pushing the Fat Lady open.

"Oh, I've got about six of him," he could hear the other boy say dismissively. Harry let out a slow chuckle at that. Somehow, he imagined Sirus' reaction to having a chocolate frog card would have been just as approving as Ron's - or his own - had been.

The feeling of emptiness inside the castle continued as Harry ambled down the staircases. He certainly didn't get caught by any of the trick ones anymore, and was even able to navigate the moving ones without paying more than a cursory amount of attention. It was almost surreal, though, how abandoned Hogwarts seemed. The murmurs of the portraits kept it from being completely silent, but there was overall an extraordinary lack of young witches and wizards about.

An October in Scotland was chilly of course, but not excessively so. As it wasn't raining today, Harry expected that most of the student body was enjoying themselves outside. He did come across a pair of younger students that were setting up a portable swamp in the fifth floor corridor on the left-hand side. Harry hated to do it, but he had to confiscate the swamp - though he muse (where the younger students could hear) that the hallway outside of Filch's office could use some sprucing up, just before he 'accidentally' dropped the Weasley Wizard Wheezes' product on the stone floor.

Still, he encountered no one else, and Harry very much hope everyone was enjoying the weather outside. It was that, or there was some new catastrophe that had everyone's attention and no one had bothered to wake him. He didn't really want to lay odds on which of the two was true, and in the end Harry decided to use the Marauder's Map to cut down on the length of time it would take him to find Ginny. And the others, of course, he mentally amended.

He was just passing the stairs that led to the Astronomy Tower when he saw a single set of footprints that showed that that tower, at least, was not empty. The owner of those footprints, combined with that location... well, that took the grin from Harry's features.

Right there, after all, in the same neat little script used everywhere else on the Marauder's Map was a single name: Draco Malfoy.

Harry's breath hitched. It took him only moments to come to the decision. The Astronomy Tower was one of the very last places Harry ever wanted to return to. Being honest, when he'd been repairing the Castle, Harry had given serious thought to leaving the bloody thing as a pile of rubble. Not after Dumbledore... and what had happened to Ginny, too. Malfoy had been there for both of those events; something that was not even true for Harry himself. That room was the very center of whatever this unfinished business between himself and the blonde Slytherin was. For Malfoy, Harry realized, the place would be of even more significance. It was where the young wizard had learned he was not a murderer, and again, when it had counted, had proved himself to be something other than a monster either. And Harry would owe Draco for that for every day of the rest of his life.

Harry had kept his eye on the other, ever since the train. Even now, six weeks into term, Draco Malfoy was a pariah. He had seen no student - not even the Slytherins - extended Malfoy anything but the most basic of courtesies. No one openly taunted him (not where Harry could hear, at least) and no one had assaulted or even so much as hexed him. Not since Harry had let filter down from his position as Head Boy through the prefects that instances of retaliation among any of the students would be severely punished. The reputation of being the man who defeated Voldemort was good for that, at least.
But Malfoy was still very widely and very clearly shunned. And while Harry didn't doubt that Draco had every bit of that treatment coming, he found it wasn't something he wished on the other wizard, either. (Strange as that was.) He well remembered the times he'd been a pariah himself. It wasn't pleasant. That Draco had actively taunted him during those times, Harry chose to ignore. Mostly.

When he reached the top of the stairwell, Malfoy was exactly where Harry expected him to be. The old hole in the wall -the one Albus Dumbledore's body had plummeted through after being struck with the curse from Severus Snape's wand - had been converted to a picturesque window with no frame. The whole room was a shrine of sorts now - here and there were little mementos, tributes to a man that had meant so much to so many. Harry even saw a feather from Fawkes that he recalled Hagrid mentioning he had left in memoriam.

Harry's mind's eye was briefly overtaken as he took all this in. Memories of the night Dumbledore died battled against his imagined version of Ginny's beating and near-rape at the hands of Crabbe and Goyle, each trying to outdo the other in the amount of horror they produced within him. Harry shuddered for a moment, and then joined Draco in leaning on the windowsill. He had a good view of the grounds from here, and Harry could easily determine that he'd been right before - most of the students were out and about. "Draco."

Draco didn't look at him either, but simply kept up his absent-stared study of the panorama in front of them. "Potter," he finally acknowledged when Harry didn't take the hint and leave.

"I'd say I'm surprised to find you here," Harry started, "But I'm not. Not really."

Draco let out a snort. "I come here to think," he admitted quietly. The Slytherin's eyes met with Harry's for just a moment, and Harry was surprised by the degree of self-loathing he saw in them. It was an expression Harry knew well.

"I expect you've a lot to be thinking about, these days," he replied diplomatically.

Malfoy sneered for a moment, and started to respond in the manner Harry was accustomed to from him. He stopped, though, and had obviously rethought whatever remark he was going to make. That was new. The Draco Malfoy that Harry remembered had been just as quick to mouth off as he himself had been (especially where Malfoy or Snape had been concerned), in the past. When he spoke, his voice was tired, but annoyed. "Potter, if you want to brag that you were right all along, I really don't want to hear it. And if you're going to gloat that my family owes you their freedom -"

"You and your mother owe me nothing for your freedom, because she saved my life," Harry interjected. "Those debts are paid, both ways. But trust me; your father going free was no work of mine. I think your father is the vilest sort of being, and he deserves... well. I think he deserves much worse that he's gotten"

Draco didn't disagree, and Harry got the impression that the other young man wasn't terribly pleased about his father being free, either. That was new, too. But then, adults rarely held on to the sanctified view that they had of their parents from childhood. As with them all, Draco too had been aged by the war. And, as with them all, in ways he'd never expected.

Silent minutes passed as both looked out on the grounds. Harry was increasingly aware of how awkward the whole thing was, and wondered not for the first time just what the hell it was he was trying to accomplish (a sentiment Ron had shared on the topic). After all, neither of them still really knew what to say to the other. Hell, they didn't even like each other. There was a tension there - too many words said in the past, too much to be just brushed under the rug. But, strange as it might have been, Harry found that he couldn't hate Draco Malfoy - not anymore.

"You know, Draco," Harry finally started casually, simply hoping the right words came out, and never letting his gaze waver from a group of first-years playing tag near Hagrid's new hut. "If I hadn't disarmed you back in your house, I'd have never beaten Riddle. I know you're busy hating yourself right now - and to be honest, I think that's a good thing. I think you should hate yourself for some of the things you've done. But then, there are some things you've done right, too. When it came down to it, you weren't a murderer. When it came down to it, you stopped a horrible thing from happening. So maybe, just maybe, you can work on forgiving yourself, too." As Harry wasn't looking, he didn't see the shock on Malfoy's face as the other realized what he was referring to.

"Keep your sympathy - and your advice - for someone who needs it, Potter." The words were there, but the bluster was quite empty.

Maybe I am, Harry thought, but he didn't say it. There was no need. Malfoy understood him, he believed. Well, that, or he was completely dense and Harry was absolutely nutters for thinking a few words here and there would change the other's outlook on life. Shaking his head and offering no further commentary, (and certainly not waiting to see if the blonde wizard would bother to reply) Harry left the Astronomy Tower.

It was far too pleasant a day to be spending with Draco Malfoy, of all people, when he could be spending it in the far more enjoyable presence of Ginny Weasley.

It didn't take him long to find her. Like the other previous members of the Gryffindor team - and all the hopefuls - she was already out on the pitch. Or, more accurately, above it. The smile returned to Harry's features as he watched her so effortlessly flying, a whirlwind of scarlet in her Quidditch robes. She was leading a few of the younger students through a practice session before the tryouts. Watching Ginny fly was, to Harry, very nearly as good as flying itself. She'd only improved with time, and Harry could imagine that would only continue. Briefly, he wondered if her animagus form would be able to fly as well.

"Wondered if you'd wake up in time," his other favorite redhead muttered. Ron was standing at the bottom of the pitch, near the goalposts, watching with arms folded.

"So where's Hermione?" Harry asked as he joined his friend.

"Dunno," Ron shrugged absently. "Said she had to look something up and I..."

"Got it," Harry agreed. There was no telling what their academically-minded friend had sunk her teeth into now. Still, Harry didn't consider that too much - he was simply watching the easy way Ginny was putting the younger kids through their paces.

"You sure about this, Harry?" Ron asked, his face quite serious all of the sudden.

"I am, mate," he agreed. "Let's face it - I was an absolutely rubbish Captain back in sixth year."

"You weren't that bad," Ron lied.

"Yes, I was," Harry argued - again. They'd had this conversation a dozen times already. "I was completely distracted. I still say we won the Cup in spite of me that year. We won it because of her."

"Okay, okay" Ron agreed, sighing again, and Harry was glad for the honesty. "I don't really want to give it up, you know."

"We're agreed then?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, yeah we are," Ron finally said. He looked a bit wistful, but he gave Harry a smile, and pointed at the whistle that the black-haired wizard had picked up from the locker room. "You want to do it?"

"We both will," he answered, and clapped Ron on the shoulder before bringing the whistle to his lips. Harry noticed that Ron covered his ears before Harry had gotten everyone else's attention. Given how loud the whistle was, that probably wasn't a particularly bad idea. Still, it did its job. After a few minutes (and a few shouts) all of the Gryffindor Quidditch hopefuls were arrayed, brooms in hand, in front of the team's Co-Captains.

Harry was surprised at how many of the older students were there. Neville, Dean, Seamus, even Cordy had all shown up, brooms in hand. Granted, Dean had been on the team before, and Seamus wasn't a bad Beater either - but Neville, he was a surprise. Harry didn't know enough about Cordy's flying ability to know about her, though he suspected she would be passably good at it. She seemed the type.

"All right, you lot," Ron began. "We've a few orders of business before the tryouts get started. The first thing I want to tell everyone is that we are going to have a reserve team this year. So don't be afraid to try out for a position you think is full. Everyone's going to have to try out for their spot - even me and Harry."

There were assorted remarks of surprise at that, and Ginny raised an eyebrow at Harry as he cleared his own throat. "The other order of business is this," Harry continued as he took over for Ron. "Ginny, would you come up and join us, please?"

Ginny's eyes widened in surprise, just before she cast a glance that was both curious and suspicious at her boyfriend and her brother. "What are you up to, Potter?" She murmured as she joined them.

"You'll see," Harry whispered. "Miss Weasley," he said, more loudly, and extremely pompously. He was purposely imitating the Fred and George of old, a routine he and Ron fell into rather often these days. "My esteemed Co-Captain and I have been talking - "

There was a bark of laughter that Harry identified as coming from either Neville or Seamus. "Arguing, you mean. You two've been goin' round and round about this for two weeks!" the Irish wizard yelled.

"Shut it, Seamus," Ron instructed, "Or Lavender finds out about - "

"Got it, mate," Seamus answered hurriedly.

Harry continued as though neither had spoken, "And while we appreciate the faith Professors McGonagall and Weasley showed in naming us co-captains of the team this year, well, we don't really think we're the best choice for the job. So, our one and only decision as Co-Captains is this: We are stepping down, and naming Chaser Weasley as our replacement." As one, Harry and Ron removed their Captain's badges, and pinned them to opposite sides of Ginny's robes.

Harry very much enjoyed that Ginny seemed, at the moment, to be too shocked to respond. It allowed Dennis to capture a perfect photograph of the moment. The flash also snapped Ginny out of her shock. And then she turned on Harry. "I'll get you for this, Harry," she said, in a low, dangerous voice. "Don't think I won't."

Harry wasn't scared at all. "Miss Weasley," he said cheekily, "I'll gladly take whatever punishment you feel like dishing out."

Ginny's eyes glinted at that, and there were more than a few catcalls as she leaned close enough to kiss him - but then didn't. "We'll see," she said cryptically.

The somewhat smug expression he'd been wearing slid right off of Harry's face.

The laughter died off as she abruptly turned towards the hopefuls. "Right then!" she said, after casting a Sonorus charm on herself. "Let's get this started. Anyone trying out for Chaser over to the left, Beaters to the right, and Seekers and Keepers behind me with Harry and Ron. Like my esteemed predecessors said, everyone's going to have to try out for their post. We'll do Seekers first, and then Keepers and Beaters, with Chaser tryouts last. Chasers, you'll get the chance to practice against the Keepers and Beaters. Now move!"

If anyone had any notions that Ginny would be an easy-going Captain, they were abruptly dismissed. As she'd said, she ran the Seeker trials first, and people were surprised how hard she was on Harry. Harry himself wasn't, though. He and Ginny might have been in love, but... well, this was Quidditch. He understood.

Ginny had a clipboard in front of her that she was scratching away at with a self-inking quill. The Seeker trials were run by releasing two snitches for the six hopefuls (including Harry), and then scoring how often and how quickly each person trying out caught a snitch. In the seven trials, Harry had caught a snitch the most, and the fastest, but he'd only just barely beat a second year named Brendan St.George. Still, he was confident as he lined up with the other Seeker hopefuls.

"Right," Ginny said, chewing absently on the end of her quill in a way that made Harry grin. "Right - Harry, you're still Seeker, but it's a near thing. You're very rusty when it comes to playing on a full-sized pitch. I'm not sure if your reflexes are as quick as they used to be, either. We'll talk later about a training schedule. St.George, you're not bad, but you need training up a bit. I'm putting you in the reserve slot - pay attention to Harry. You could learn a lot from him once he's back on his game. You should be ready for next year, though. Harry?"

"I'll work with him, Gin," he answered readily, and fought back his smile at seeing her so in control. "And myself, too." She was right - he was rusty. But then, he hadn't played more than a pick-up game at the Burrow in more than a year and a half, so that wasn't terribly surprising. He laid an easy hand on the younger boy's shoulders, and started to lead him away.

As he did, he looked up to see Ginny eyeing him again, a slightly worried expression on her face. He knew then, that she was worried she'd gone too far in her 'Captain' role. He set her at ease with a quick grin, and was momentarily thrown as he realized that he felt her relax.

What the hell? Harry thought. Whatever it had been was gone now, and Harry was quite certain he had only imagined it. But then, it was hardly the first time he had felt that way lately, and he was starting to wonder if wasn't (no pun intended) all in his head. He would have to bring it up later, however, as Ginny had turned her attention to the Keeper and Chaser trials that were starting. She was completely focused on this.

A lack of practice didn't seem to have thrown off Ron at all, Harry absently noted as the dozen Chaser hopefuls traded off making runs against the three people trying out for Keeper. Once he realized Ron had this in the bag, Harry became lost in thought. Brendan had sat down next to him as he'd guided the younger player off of the pitch, and the dark-haired boy cleared his throat after a few minutes.

"Uh, Mr. Potter - "

"Harry," he corrected absently. His mind was working furiously, trying to figure out what had just happened.

"Harry - can I go tell my friends?" the second year boy said, and Harry gave him a warm smile.

"That you made the team? Go right ahead. Don't be gone long, mind - I expect our Captain will want to start our practices later today."

"Yes, sir," he said, and Harry was kind enough to wait till the boy was gone to laugh.

"So, Ron came around then?" piped up a new voice from behind him.

"Hey, Hermione," Harry acknowledged without looking. After all, he more than recognized her voice after all these years. "Yeah, he did."

"It wasn't easy for him, you know," Hermione pointed out as she joined him.

"I know," Harry confessed. "He's wanted it for a long time. But Ginny wants it more, and I think she's better at than either Ron or I would be."

"I expect you're right," she agreed, and Harry saw that she was noting the wide smile that Ginny wore as she led them through practice. "Of course, I also expect you're just trying to live up to the promise you made to her."

Harry turned then, and faced Hermione with a very serious expression. "Every day, 'Mione. Every day for the rest of my life."

Hermione just patted his hand, and favored him with a soft smile. "I know, Harry."

Deciding to change from the sudden mushiness, Harry favored his friend with a frank expression. "And what've you been looking up? I know for a fact that all your homework is already finished this weekend, because you made the three of us do it before Quidditch tryouts could even start." In fact - Hermione had threatened to attach all of them to their chairs with permanent sticking charms if they hadn't. She knew exactly how distracted Harry, Ginny and Ron would all be for the rest of the weekend.

Hermione pursed her lips. "It's something Ginny asked me to look into," she informed him, and Harry raised a curious eyebrow at her. "I'd like to speak to the both of you later about it, actually."

Harry shrugged. "Okay," and the both of them return their attentions to the pitch.

As the trials continued, Harry wasn't surprised to see Ron keep his spot as Keeper. Dennis Creevey becoming the reservist for that slot was a little bit of a surprise, but not as much when Harry remembered how often he'd overheard Colin debating Football with Dean. While Dean was a rabid West Ham fan, Colin had been equally rabid about Manchester. Dennis shared that love, apparently - or had acquired it since the death of his older brother, Harry didn't know which. Skills as a goalie apparently transferred over to Keeping very well. Harry approved of the addition - Dennis was a good sort.

The Beater tryouts had their own surprises, as well. Richie Coote and Jimmy Peakes made it back. They'd improved considerably. Like Dennis, they were Muggleborns, and Harry recalled Jimmy telling him that they'd all been at the Refuge last year. Jimmy and Richie had been members of Zach's 'Mudblood Resistance', the group that had worked with the elements of the DA that were outside of Hogwarts, and the remains of the Order of the Phoenix. Clearly, they'd had time to improve their skills.

Sill, one of them - and here had been the surprise - had very nearly lost their slot to Neville. They would have, too, if Neville hadn't turned down the spot on the team. Harry watched the odd look Ginny was giving his roommate as the other left the pitch. Neville lowered himself down next to Harry and Hermione, and gave the both of them a lopsided, sheepish grin.

"Neville, mate," Harry started, knowing he was looking at the other like he was crazy, "If you don't want the spot, why'd you try out?"

Neville grinned. "To see if I could, Harry."

Harry just gave a small laugh as the other man folded his arms behind his head and leaned back. It was odd sometimes, all the changes that Neville had been through. That all of them had. Harry had had this thought several times, and he knew he probably would once more. It took getting used to, was all. But then, no one is the same person they were at eleven, Harry mused. Not even Neville Longbottom. Another thought occurred to him. Or Draco Malfoy.

"Bollocks," Harry muttered as the Chaser hopefuls lined up. This was going to get interesting. Demelza was trying out again, but she'd been injured pretty badly last year, and even she admitted that she wasn't up to where she had been. The next hopeful was Cordy, who gave the threesome in the stands a wink and a wave when she spotted them looking. Harry waved back, and found himself hoping that she made the team. He'd always thought Quidditch had gone a long way towards getting him accepted among his classmates. Hopefully it would do the same for Cordy.

She was still having a tough time, truth to be told. It probably didn't help that she refused to answer any questions about Tom Riddle, and despite Harry making his feelings on the subject known, some of the whispers still persisted. Still, the London-bred witch seemed to handle it in stride - for the most part. Harry suspected this to be a facade, but he wasn't able to prove it.

No, the reason for his curse was the person standing behind Cordy - Romilda Vane.

"What, Harry?" Neville asked. "Someone you don't - oh." Neville saw her too.

"Yeah."

"Well," Hermione sniffed - she liked Romilda even less than Harry did - "At least we know there's no way Ginny will let her on the team."

Harry sighed; he knew Hermione hadn't thought it through before making that comment. "She may have to," Harry admitted, remembering Romilda trying out as a fourth-year.

"What? Why?"

"She's got to be fair, hasn't she?" Neville pointed out. "If she's good enough, and Ginny doesn't let her on, people'll just say it's because Vane keeps going after Harry."

And that was true - Romilda had been relentless, but only when Ginny wasn't around. Harry was polite in his rejections, but this only seemed to encourage the dark-haired girl.

"Bollocks," Hermione echoed. "I should have thought of that."

Silently, Harry agreed. It wasn't like Hermione to miss something so blindingly obvious. The only time she did was when she was distracted... which probably had to do with whatever she wanted to discuss with him and Ginny.

Curiouser and curiouser.

The three fell silent as the Chaser tryouts got underway. Ron continued Keeping for the first round, but after a bit, he turned it over to Dennis and joined the others in the stands. Ginny easily kept her own spot, but Demelza didn't. The sixth year had been put out, but even she admitted. Cordy had done three goals better than Dean, who had tied with the surprise contender, Romilda Vane. Dean and Romilda had scored an even number of goals, though truthfully, Romilda had been better at avoiding the Bludgers Peakes and Coote sent her way.

"Come on, 'Mione!" Ron exclaimed, indicating the scoreboard which had been enchanted to tally the tryout results. "I know Romilda's a bit... dodgy, but we can't hold a grudge against everyone who's almost accidentally killed us! This is for Quidditch!"

Harry snorted at that, but he was only partially paying attention to Ron and Hermione's discussion of the candidates, as he was more interested in watching Ginny while she was trying to reach her decision. She was, quite endearingly, Harry thought, chewing on her bottom lip as she weighed all the factors. Harry felt her apprehension as though it were his own. She asked the candidates to wait to one side while she made her decision, and then went back into the locker room. Unbidden, Harry followed her as she no doubt knew he would."

Cordy laid a hand on Harry's shoulder as he passed by. "Everything all right there, ducks?"

Harry gave her a lopsided smile. "It'll be fine, Cordy. Just a... hard choice."

"Hmm," she muttered noncommittally. "Some birds just can't take a message."

"Exactly," Harry agreed, and then pointed towards the locker room. "I'm gonna..."

The dark-haired witch nodded absently, and Harry noticed that she was looking interestedly in Dean's direction. He fought back a grin at that and filed that observation away for later, and added one more thing before he left. "Hey, Riddle - welcome to the team."

"Cheers, Harry," she grinned back. "G'on then. See to your girl."

Harry chuckled, and then moved into the locker room. He heard the repeated thudding before he entered, and found Ginny slowly pounding her head against one of the metal lockers.

"Hell of a choice," Harry muttered, folding his arms as he leaned against the doorway. "Your ex-boyfriend, or my not-so-ex-stalker." He made the words light, intending them as a joke.

"It's not funny, Harry."

"Sure it is," Harry shrugged. "It just means that you've been with me long enough that my luck is now your luck, too."

Ginny gave a small snort of laughter at that. "If that's the deal, Potter, then I'm tossing you over the first chance I get."

"You already had that chance," Harry said, abandoning his spot in the doorway as she came closer. He folded her into his arms from behind and Ginny sighed as she relaxed against him and brought her hands up to cover his.

"Very true," she admitted. "I suppose I missed my chance then. I'm stuck with you now."

"For as long as you'll have me," Harry said, an old feeling welling up inside of him. Academically, he knew his fears of rejection had everything to do with being and orphan several times over - the loss of his parents, Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore, and in their own strange way, even the death of Uncle Vernon and the impending demise of Aunt Petunia. Deep down, there would always be a part of Harry that was scared he wasn't good enough, and would spend his days alone.

"Then I guess -" Ginny started to say, and he felt her tense under his arms. "Blast it all, Harry, don't do that. You know very well that I love you and you're not going to be alone."

"I know that," Harry replied automatically, and then he felt the astonishment creep across his features. "Wait - Gin, how did you know what I was thinking?"

"You said it, Harry, clear as day."

"No, I didn't."

"You must have."

"Gin, in all the time you've known me, have I ever - ever - casually admitted something like that?"

Ginny pulled away from him, but only so that she could face him. "No..." she said slowly, and then took a deep breath. "No, Harry, you didn't say it. I... felt it from you."

Harry blinked, "Er...what?"

Ginny was wringing her hands, and Harry knew that she was nervous. It occurred to him then, that he wasn't just drawing that from her body language, or how well he knew her, but that, somehow, he could actually feel her nervousness. His throat felt extremely dry at the notion, for some reason he couldn't quite place. "How... how is this possible?" he asked, his voice full of wonder.

He felt it more clearly now, all the stronger that he was aware of it. Ginny was scared of answering the question, scared of... of rejection?

Well, he could put a stop to that. "Hey, come here," he said quietly. With very little resistance, he pulled her to him, and she buried her face in his shoulder. "Gin, tell me... what is this?"

It was a few moments before she spoke, and Harry could feel Ginny gathering her courage. "It...It's a kind of bond, Harry, that happens between magical couples who are married. It means we're connected now, bound, and... It's probably for the rest of our lives."