Playing Games

Sometimes, Sarah liked to look back on her life before ESIS. While she didn't like being ignorant, she appreciated how much simpler her life had been. For instance, she'd never been suspended by her wrists in a dark room inside a burning building before joining the Service, but had she found herself in such a position back then, she would've been helpless.

"This is why I don't do field work anymore," Sarah said. "Something like this always happens."

Of course, she would've been far less likely to have found herself in such a situation. She only found herself in it now because Evan Adril, a crime lord that knew everything that happened in and around Knockturn Alley, responded better to her than to Eric.

"Aren't you the one that says we don't spend enough time together?" Eric asked.

Sarah hauled herself up so her hands could get to the key she'd swiped from one of their captors.

"This wasn't what I had in mind," she said as she undid the shackles on her wrists. "I thought we could go out for drinks, maybe bring the spouses."

She lowered herself to the ground, careful to avoid the approaching flames, then tossed Eric the key.

"At least we learned something," Eric said, unlocking his own shackles.

"Yes, that the crime lords of Knockturn Alley know nothing about what's going on."

Eric dropped to the ground and grinned at her.

"Come on, Boss, you make it sound as though this was a waste of time."

She glowered at him, then motioned for him to handle the door.

He got to work picking the lock on the door.

"Couldn't you have picked the lock on the shackles yourself?" Sarah asked.

"Not hanging like that. This is a lot harder than I make it look."

Sarah rolled her eyes. Eric was right: their mission hadn't been a complete waste of time. They had backup coming to extract them momentarily, and they had checked another potentially responsible party off their list.

"We're still back to where we started," she said. "I was hoping they'd at least have an idea as to who was behind this."

"How do you know they don't?" Eric asked.

"Because they left us for dead and didn't gloat. People tend to gloat when they think you can't tell anyone."

Eric opened the door and looked out.

"Clear."

They slipped out of the room and down the corridor. Parts of the building were already beginning to crumble. None of the inhabitants of Diagon Alley would help; they didn't go into Knockturn Alley if they could help it, and the inhabitants of Knockturn Alley knew better than to stick their noses where they didn't belong.

"Of course," she said as they left the building, "that's one less building of theirs we know about."

They slipped out the back and evaded any prying eyes. Not far from the building, they met with their recently retired backup.

"I see Adril set another building on fire," Bones said. "You two alright?"

"A little sore," Eric said, rubbing his wrists, "but nothing a good drink can't fix."

"They didn't know anything," Sarah said. "But going after us isn't like them. Usually, they would've laughed, hinted that they were behind it, then escorted us out of the building."

"Something's got him spooked," Bones said. "Definitely not like him."

That didn't sit well with Sarah. Evan Adril practically ruled Knockturn Alley. The only thing that had ever bothered him was not knowing something that could threaten him, and he seemed to have a good instinct for such things.

"Any luck with the other project?" Sarah asked.

Bones shook her head.

"I don't have Ministry resources anymore, and your targets are wanted fugitives. I don't know them that well, but if it were me, I'd be avoiding civilization like the plague."

Sarah gave her a significant look, waiting for the good news.

"But…?" Eric said.

"They were last spotted in Trialla a few days ago, but nothing since. The Ministry sent people there looking for them, but they managed to escape before anyone arrived. No trail, nothing."

As frustrating as it was to have a wealth of information on the run, Sarah was a little proud of Hermione and Luna for being that resourceful.

"Thanks. We'll meet up again soon and compare notes."

"Over drinks," Eric added.

Both women gave him odd looks.

"I was just shackled to a burning building. I want a drink."

It always gave Ron a bad feeling when he got to breakfast and people were watching he and his friends. Not only was it a little insulting (Didn't they realize he could tell they were watching him?), but it meant something had gone wrong somewhere that involved them.

<Why is everyone staring at us?> Sally-Anne asked.

Harry stared at something over Ron's shoulder, then turned back to one of the Gryffindors sitting next to them. After asking to borrow a copy of the Daily Prophet, he placed it between them.

"Brain and Moon," he said, pointing to the story on the front pace.

"'Wanted for undisclosed crimes'?" Ron asked. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Read the whole thing," Harry said, pointing to a name that stood out.

Ron had lived most of his life in fear of the name Voldemort, but apart from the name under Harry's finger, there were no other names that could inspire emotion the way Voldemort's had.

"Her."

"Didn't Ins get her sacked?" Harry asked, directing the question at he and Sally-Anne.

"Apparently not," Sally-Anne said, looking dazed. "I'm sure she lied her way out of it. It's what she's best at."

Ron read the rest of the article. It didn't say where they were, nor what they'd done.

<Brain, why are you and Moon wanted by the Ministry?>

To Ron's surprise, Hermione answered him.

<Umbridge.>

"She's dodging the question," Ron said.

"Are they going to question us?" Ginny asked.

"We haven't been summoned yet," Ron said. "If they do need to talk to us, they'll send word ahead."

"Umbridge probably knows we won't say anything," Harry said. "She knows us too well."

That thought alone worried Ron. It was the same thing that made Rose so dangerous: Umbridge knew them. She knew how they worked, at least she had at one point. She didn't know about their equipment, but they were getting rid of it now.

"Maybe we shouldn't be so hasty getting rid of Rose's gifts," he said. "We might need them."

Harry shook his head.

"Umbridge might be recovering, but that doesn't mean she'll be a problem. There were witnesses to her trying to use an Unforgivable Curse on Hermione."

"Succeeding," Ron said. "It only didn't work because Hermione… well, because Hermione."

"Which Ins knew," Sally-Anne said. "Umbridge probably pulled every string she had to discredit us and prevent herself getting sacked. Whatever we had on her before won't help us now."

Ron looked down at the paper. Hermione and Luna both stared back at him, although they were old pictures. At least, the one of Luna was from before she'd left for the forest. That'd help them stay out of Umbridge's clutches.

"Whatever happens," Harry said, "we stay out of it as best we can. Agreed?"

"What if they need our help?" Sally-Anne asked.

"It's Brain and Moon," Harry said. "We all know they can take care of themselves. This doesn't mean it's suddenly okay to use our equipment again."

His eyes darted to the ring on Ron's finger.

Ron slid his arm inside his robes. He hated the way Harry and Ginny looked whenever they noticed him still wearing the ring.

If Hermione manages to come through, it won't be a problem anymore.

Sally-Anne had other issues with the equipment. The idea of not having her ribbon or dressed stuck in her mind all week. She was friendly with everyone in school, but that would change the moment she stopped wearing them. She'd only had the confidence to speak up after she'd had so many compliments on her ribbon.

It'll be alright, she kept trying to tell herself.

Another concern was that it'd end up being the same as when Umbridge was in power. That no one would trust her. It'd taken a year to get people to trust her again, and only after Harry and Ron had kept insisting she was okay.

Would her friends even like her without them? She'd been keeping in contact with Mr. Malfoy. Did they work over distance? She couldn't remember how Charisma worked in Rose's world, if it even existed.

Rose had saved her life so many times, enough that Sally-Anne had once trusted Rose with her life. Now all she had to do was remember Draco or look at Ginny to remember why she couldn't anymore.

She rubbed her hands again as she sat in Potions listening to Slughorn. It was always there, Draco's blood. Would it be easier to bear without her dress and ribbon?

Slughorn stopped talking and told them to begin brewing a potion to stop diseases. She propped open her book and got to work.

The class was smaller without Draco, Neville, or Hermione. She was the only Gryffindor now, among a handful of Ravenclaws and Slytherins, plus Max and Hannah. She felt so alone.

She set to work following the book's instructions, trying to focus on her work rather than her current dilemma. Everything would be fine.

What if Harry and Ron didn't trust her anymore? What if the dress stopped them from remembering that she'd sold them out to Umbridge, or that it was her fault that Ellie had dumped Harry? What if Ron remembered that she was friends with the Malfoys, his family's enemies? Worst of all, what if Ron didn't want to be her friend?

Her hands shook as she tried to handle the equipment. She glanced at the clock. Thirty minutes left of this. She wondered if Slughorn would let her go to the Hospital Wing to lie down.

No, you've got to push through it. People aren't going to take pity on you after you give up Rose's gifts.

She picked up the materials and measured out the first one. Her hands shook as she tried. The feeling of blood oozing over her hand was overwhelming. It trickled down her hands as she watched the life drain out of Draco's eyes. Her love, murdered in front of her while she did nothing. She wanted to scream, but her mouth wasn't working. Nothing worked! Why was she so useless?

"Ms. Perks!"

Sally-Anne opened her eyes and found herself staring at the ceiling. Smoke was clearing out around her, and Slughorn was offering to help her up.

"Are you back with us?"

Sally-Anne got to her feet without assistance, but her head spun and she had to sit down.

"I think so."

"I'm afraid you spilled some extra night's glare into your cauldron. Nasty stuff if you're not careful with it. Please go to Madame Pomfrey and have her look you over, just to be sure there aren't any unpleasant side effects."

Sally-Anne nodded, a little confused that a Potions Master was showing such concern for a student. That didn't make sense, but her head hadn't stopped spinning yet.

"Yes, professor."

With all the focus she could muster, she reached for her pack.

"No need to gather your things, I doubt you'll be gone five minutes."

She wasn't sure she was fine, but Slughorn sounded so certain about it that she figured he must be right.

Setting her sights on the door, she put one foot in front of the other, hoping she looked better than she felt. No one said anything. One of the Ravenclaws even got the door for her. She couldn't think of his name just then, but she smiled at him to show her gratitude.

Sally-Anne stumbled out of the class, struggling to keep her head together, to stay focused on what she was doing and not let her mind wander.

She walked through a familiar part of the Dungeons. Echoes of her and Draco talking, him breaking down. She could see the dark mark on his arm, his shame at it being there. He wasn't proud of serving Voldemort, and that had been her doing.

"Perks!"

Sally-Anne froze. For a moment, she thought she'd head Draco's voice. But no, it was worse than that.

Parkinson walked quickly to catch up to her.

"It'd be dreadful if something happened to you before you reached the Hospital Wing," Parkinson said, sounding rather like that was what she wanted to happen. "I asked Slughorn if I could escort you."

"Thank you, but I really don't need the help."

Sally-Anne tried to walk faster, but the corridor began to spin. Next thing she knew, someone had caught her.

"Let me go," she mumbled.

"Don't worry," Parkinson said. "I'll make sure you get to the Hospital Wing. While we walk, you can tell me all about how a piece of mudblood filth gets herself a spot next to Lucius Malfoy at Draco's funeral."

Alarm bells went off in her head, but Parkinson tightened her grip, so much so that Sally-Anne's arm began to hurt.

"You're hurting me."

"You and Draco always had rounds together, and he refused to get them changed. Then he dumps me. Me! No one would dump me… unless someone else had been up to something."

Sally-Anne tried to pull herself free again, but her mind was in too much of a haze. She didn't have much control of her body. Fear crept into her as she realized they weren't heading towards the Hospital Wing.

"Umbridge even fell for it, but at least she wised up and realized you were a traitor. But Draco… he fell for it last year, didn't he? I thought you were miserable, that there was no way he'd fallen for your lies. Then suddenly you're at his funeral?" Parkinson laughed. "It was so obvious what was going on."

Sally-Anne knew she couldn't break free. She hoped Slughorn would send someone — preferably Max or Hannah — to investigate when she didn't return. Until then, she was on her own.

No… not quite on my own.

She concentrated as hard as she could on Harry and Ron.

<Dungeons… Parkinson… Help.>

"You were dosing him with love potion. You were using him to get at his fortune. That's the only reason he'd even look at a mudblood."

"No," Sally-Anne mumbled again.

"There's no point in denying it now. He's dead, no thanks to you. He could've been happy with me, but instead you had to get in the way."

Sally-Anne tried to wriggle free again, but her head wasn't clearing up. She needed to get to Madame Pomfrey.

She heard footsteps echoing down the corridor. The corridor that had started spinning again. Her mind drifted away, floating back to her time with Draco.

"I didn't…" she said, but someone else interrupted them. She could barely make them out, but the red hair was a good hint.

"What did you do to her?" Ron demanded.

"Me? I haven't done anything. She inhaled something… I can't think what it was… and I was escorting her to the Hospital Wing."

Ron started to shout again, but Harry cut him off.

"Thank you. We'll all go with her. We'll move faster with three people helping her."

Ron took her other side, shooting a glare at Parkinson while he did.

Harry led the way out of the Dungeons. In a minute, they'd reached the Hospital Wing.

"Where have you been?" Madame Pomfrey demanded when they arrived. "Professor Slughorn sent word ahead ten minutes ago!"

"They got turned around in the Dungeons," Harry said. "That's all, right?"

He directed this question at Parkinson, who took a moment to realize what Harry was doing.

"Yes, of course," she said.

"Come here, lie down," Madame Pomfrey said, ushering Sally-Anne towards one of the beds. "Night's glare is awful stuff. Sits in your head until you can flush it out."

Ron opened his mouth, but Harry elbowed him to keep him quiet.

"Don't you worry," Pomfrey said, handing her a teaspoon of something that changed between green and brown. "Drink this and you'll feel better."

The liquid was thick and sour. Sally-Anne forced it down her throat, struggling to keep her face neutral. She could feel it sliding down, but as it did, the haze on her mind lifted.

"Thank you," she said. "That feels much better."

She got out of bed. For a second, she was surprised that she received no resistance from Madame Pomfrey. Only a second, because that's how long it took for the room to start spinning again. She sat back down before she fell as Madame Pomfrey chuckled.

"I'm afraid you'll be staying here for the remainder of class." She turned back to the others. "Ms. Parkinson, you should return. Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, go with her so she doesn't get herself lost again, and please bring Ms. Perks's bag with you when you return."

Harry nodded, smiled at Sally-Anne, then led Parkinson and Ron away.

Sally-Anne watched them go, then closed her eyes.

That's the only reason he'd even look at a mudblood.

She hadn't dosed him with love potion. Draco had genuinely loved her. Why? Because she was nice? She wanted to think it was because he didn't want his family's way of life, that she'd shown him a better way. But why had he even bothered with her? She was nothing to them. Working class pretending to be something more.

But Parkinson was wrong. Sally-Anne hadn't dosed him with love potion. She was sure the only reason Parkinson hadn't tried that herself was that she didn't know how to make it.

They'd learned last year, and Parkinson's had turned out awful. If Snape hadn't had the habit of passing every Slytherin regardless of skill, she probably would've failed.

That didn't stop Parkinson's words from sitting inside her head as she drifted off to sleep.

Harry went to the Hospital Wing later, in part to check on Sally-Anne, but in part to ask Madame Pomfrey a question.

"No," she said before he'd spoken.

"You don't… you know what I'm about to ask?"

Madame Pomfrey folded the sheets of the bed next to her.

"You want to know about Ms. Weasley playing Quidditch again."

Harry nodded.

"We could—"

"She could fall and die, and just because you caught her the first time, doesn't mean you will this time."

She finished folding the sheets, then started off towards her office.

Harry, who hadn't finished talking, followed her.

"But—"

Madame Pomfrey spun on her heel and faced him.

"Conditions such as hers are difficult. She may appear fine one minute, and be gone the next. Ms. Weasley will require years of treatment to undo the damage that thing did to her."

It took Harry a moment to realize "that thing" was Rose.

"I understand the position you're in, Mr. Potter. I'd like nothing more than to see that poor girl return to normal, but that may never happen. She'll likely need to be looked after for most of her life."

Harry thought back to how independent Ginny had always tried to be. That was all gone. Rose was dead, but the damage she'd done would live with Ginny forever.

"I'll let you in on a little secret," she said. "When people come here, you see their priorities immediately. I can tell who is worried and who's confident by the way they walk into the Hospital Wing."

Harry felt himself in awe, both of Madame Pomfrey, and of Dumbledore, for the people he always managed to find.

"I tell you this so you understand that I know you care for her, just like I know Mr. Weasley cares for Ms. Perks. After everything you've all been through, I don't want to see anything more happen to you all."

Harry nodded, understanding her position, and thankful she understood his. He'd hoped that being up in the air would be good for Ginny, like it'd been for him, but nothing the Dursleys had done to him was nearly as bad as what Rose had done to Ginny.

"But, I'd hate to deny her what little escape she can get."

Harry frowned, not sure he understood what she was saying.

"She may return to practice, but you must keep an eye on her. I'll be the final judge of whether she may play a full match, but for now, she may practice."

Harry's spirit returned and his face lit up.

"Thank you. She'll be delighted to hear that!"

Madame Pomfrey smiled back at him.

"I've seen more of your friends than I have any other group of students at Hogwarts in the past seven years. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't proud of the progress you've all made."

Harry thanked her for her kindness, then she returned to her office.

"While I'm thinking of it," she said, poking her head back out, "is there any word from Ms. Granger or Ms. Lovegood?"

Harry shook his head.

"No, sorry."

"That's alright, dear."

Harry left the Hospital Wing to find Ginny and give her the good news.

Ginny mounted her broom and kicked off with the rest of the team. She didn't entirely understand the point of letting her practice. She still wasn't allowed to play.

You'll be thankful for the practice when Madame Pomfrey lets you play again.

That was it. Her ability to play Quidditch was in someone else's hands. She hated feeling like someone else got to make her decisions for her. She wanted to play Quidditch. Who was Madame Pomfrey to tell her she couldn't?

She glanced at Harry as he took to the sky. He had faith in her still. Somehow, no matter what happened, he had faith that she'd pull through.

She turned her attention back to practice. The last thing she wanted was to let Harry down, so she promised herself she'd put her all into it.

They flew around one another, passing the Quaffle around while the Beaters sent Bludgers flying after them. Ginny felt her adrenaline pumping and worried for a moment that she'd pass out again.

I won't fail!

She grabbed the Quaffle and passed it to Demelza. The Quaffle moved between a few more players, then Harry split them into teams for a few practice rounds.

Ginny was put on a team with Jonathon and one of their reserve Chasers, with Ron tending their goal posts. Demelza got the Quaffle first and raced off towards him.

Ginny pushed her broom for all it had, trying to catch up to Demelza. She saw her brother moving into position, so she stayed on Demelza, blocking her from passing it off. With no support, Demelza was forced to take a shot that Ron easily blocked.

He took control of it and passed it off to her. Before Demelza could get a beat on her, Ginny passed it to Jonathon. He raced up the field with the other Chasers right behind him.

Ginny flew up, getting some height while they got away from her. She flew higher, higher, then dove. She hurtled towards the mass of Chasers heading for the other goal, then called to her teammates.

Jonathon saw her and flung the Quaffle straight up. She grabbed it and let her speed carry her to the far right goalpost. She didn't take her eyes off, waiting for the Keeper to take the bait. The moment he went for it, she flung the Quaffle at the far goalpost, all without moving her eyes. The Keeper didn't have time to catch up, and the Quaffle want flying through.

Ginny forced her broom straight down to avoid crashing, then twisted in the air and pulled up as the Quaffle was released again.

<How are you doing that?> Ron asked.

<I just keep track of where the goalposts are so I don't have to look at them.>

<Of course, a Robin Zola Feint.>

Before she asked who that was and got a long-winded lecture, she turned her attention back to the game. They went a few more rounds before Harry called them in for a regroup.

"Ginny, can you explain the feint you're using?"

Ginny explained it again, blushing a little and keeping her hair covering part of her face.

"That's the trick," Ron said. "A good Keeper will follow your eyes when you're trying to score, but if you don't move them, they don't know what you're going to do."

There were nods from around the group. Ginny didn't realize she'd stumbled on something amazing, she'd just been trying to get something past her brother.

She glanced at Harry before he had the team start practicing against Ron. Maybe he was right; maybe she could do it.

Sally-Anne sat down in the stands. A year ago, she would've been excited about a Quidditch match, apart from her usual fear that her friends could all die.

While she wasn't sitting alone — several boys from Gryffindor seemed determined to be her new best friend — she didn't have Hermione or Neville with her in the stands. With Ginny being allowed to play under the close watch of the teachers, all of Ginny's closest friends were up in the air.

She watched the players kick off and spotted the new Slytherin Seeker. Reminding herself that Draco was gone, she forced herself not to look at him too long. It didn't help to dwell on the past. At least, that's what she kept trying to convince herself.

That didn't stop her from remembering the way Draco played. He was always confident that he'd win, even if he wasn't the best player. He'd more than made up for it with his cunning plans.

Sally-Anne felt tears coming on and started thinking of something else. She knew Ron and Harry were starting to notice her rubbing her hands together; she didn't need anyone else to notice. The longer gloves she'd started wearing might've stopped Harry from seeing how bad her hands were, but they didn't stop him from worrying.

Forcing her hands apart, she focused instead on Ron and Ginny. Ron's focus was solely on the Quaffle, even when it wasn't near him. When it was, he'd tense up, taking stock of everything around him, ensuring that nothing got past him.

Ron blocked another attempt and passed the Quaffle to Jonathon. He raced up the Pitch, then handed it off to Demelza when he had to slow down. She passed it to Ginny, who faked out the Slytherin Keeper and threw it in for another point.

Sally-Anne cheered, glad to see Ginny up in the air again. The wind mostly kept her hair out of her face, but she kept fixing it when she had a moment. Sally-Anne also noticed that Ginny never spent more than a few seconds near any of the Slytherin players, likely for the same reason.

Slytherin took possession of the Quaffle again, but it didn't make it to Ron. Demelza got it off one of the Slytherin Chasers after a Bludger knocked it loose, and Gryffindor scored again.

"Gryffindor offense is unstoppable this year!" the commentator said. "That's 80 points they've scored, and Weasley isn't about to let them get anything back!"

Sally-Anne looked up at Harry. Once again, he kept the entire Pitch in view, looking for the smallest sign of the Snitch. She hoped he'd find it soon; as well as things were going, she knew what the Slytherin team was like. If they had a chance, they'd get under Ginny's skin, and Sally-Anne didn't know what would happen then.

No, that wasn't right; she knew what would happen. Ginny would break down, possibly fall off her broom. Then Sally-Anne would be forced to watch another of her friends die. She was supposed to be a protector, but she couldn't protect anyone. Ginny would be another friend whose blood was on Sally-Anne's hands. Like Draco. Like Neville.

As she sank deeper, a fleeting thought passed through her head. She hadn't felt helpless watching Neville die. She could see it perfectly, but she hadn't felt responsible for him. Had she cared for him so little?

Her attention returned to the match in time to see one of the Slytherin Chasers flying right for Ron. Oddly enough, Ron didn't seem to care. He was more interested in one of the Bludgers.

Brett knocked the Bludger Ron was watching straight for Ron. Sally-Anne let out a gasp that nearly became a scream.

Ron dipped down and dodged the Bludger, sending it straight towards the Slytherin Chaser. He got out of the way, heading right towards Ron, who stripped him of the Quaffle.

Sally-Anne didn't need to hear it to know Ron said "Thanks, Mate," as he passed the Quaffle to Jonathon.

Once again, Ginny got the Quaffle, but she didn't go for the goal. Instead, she flew straight up, all three Slytherin Chasers on her. She shot up, pushing her broom hard to keep gaining speed.

Sally-Anne wasn't sure how much of it she could watch. She glanced over at the teachers. Professors Flitwick and Lupin had their wands out, and Madame Pomfrey looked like she was going to put someone in the Hospital Wing.

Ginny killed her speed and dropped the Quaffle. It slipped right past all three Chasers and into the outstretched arms of Demelza. She dove at the goal post, gaining speed as she flew closer. She was a blur when she whipped the Quaffle into the post for their tenth goal.

Sally-Anne took a moment to catch her breath. There was a ringing in her ears, and she felt light-headed. Muffled calls of her name came from the people around her, but she could barely hear anything.

"…Snitch! He's…"

Sally-Anne focused on the match enough to see the Slytherin Seeker darting across the field. The crowd gasped as Harry… sat there.

He clearly saw the other Seeker and the Snitch, but he looked as though he simply didn't care.

"What's Potter doing? He's not that far ahead that he can ignore the Snitch! Has he gone mad?"

Her heart raced faster. What if something had gone wrong? What if—

As the Slytherin Seeker closed in on the Snitch, Harry made his move. He pitched his broom to the side and dove.

Sally-Anne couldn't follow what happened next. Harry and the other Seeker were racing towards the Snitch. One second, Harry was in the sky, the next, he was coming up on the Snitch. It couldn't matter, the other Seeker was reaching out for it.

The Harry-like blur flew in front of the other Seeker, whose fingertips grazed Harry's clothes as Harry grabbed the Snitch.

"I don't believe it! Potter caught the Snitch! Gryffindor wins! Gryffindor shut out Slytherin!"

When Sally-Anne could finally see straight, Harry was flying around the Pitch, holding the Snitch aloft. He looked calm, like he'd planned the whole thing from the start.

And everyone thinks Hermione's the mad one.

<Harry James Potter!> Sally-Anne said when she'd gotten a grip on herself. <Don't you ever do that again! As if Ginny flying so high wasn't enough to make me die of fright! Or Ronald nearly getting hit with a Bludger!>

<You sound so much like Mrs. Weasley right now,> Harry replied.

He grinned at her from atop his broom as the players circled to the ground.

<We planned the whole thing,> he said, more reassuringly. <After the defeat Slytherin handed us last year, I wanted everyone to remember why Gryffindor's the best.>

Sally-Anne waved away attempts to help her up, then got to her feet and started towards the Pitch.

She made her way over to Madame Pomfrey, thankful for a kindred spirit.

"I hate this bloody game," Pomfrey said as they approached the team.

"Completely ghastly," Sally-Anne said.

"You'd think they wanted to kill themselves."

Despite her protests, Sally-Anne was thrilled to see her friends so excited for their victory. It was a little piece of normalcy for which she was thankful.