LUCY:

The mood in the Gryffindor common room on Friday night was dismal.

Ginny retreated deep into herself, the way she did when she was stressed, and despite the best efforts of the twins to cheer her up, she retired early. Hermione was annoyed with everyone for being so nervous about the match when the start of O.W.L.s was less than four months away, and she poured herself into her work with renewed vigor with the hopes of motivating the rest of us to follow her lead, but when none of us were particularly responsive, she huffed and announced she was going to the library. Ron was the most anxious of everyone, staring off into the distance, listlessly tapping his quill against the table instead of actually writing, and even turning me down when I asked if he wanted to play wizard's chess to take his mind off of it; he soon followed in Ginny's footsteps and disappeared up the stairs to his dormitory. Harry had been out of it all day, like his mind was in a different place, and that night, he was reading a textbook while frequently sighing and rubbing his forehead. I was technically reading a textbook, too, but after a while, I realized I was wasting my time.

I rose to my feet and turned to Harry. "I'm going to go bake cookies. Do you want to come with me?"

Harry blinked out of his daze and looked up at me. "You're what?"

"Going to go bake cookies," I repeated. "In the kitchen. With the house elves, if they want to help. You heard Sirius, he did it all the time while he was here. Ideally, I won't further terrify the house elves, though, I hope I'm a better baker than Sirius apparently is."

"Your cookies are the best," he said. "I shouldn't go, I'd just make a mess of it like I did with Cho."

I swatted him with my textbook before shoving it into my schoolbag. "Shut up, you're coming with me. You look as stressed as I feel, and I happen to know from firsthand experience that baking cookies helps tremendously with stress. Come on."

With a couple more muttered protests, Harry stood up and followed me through the portrait hole. I led the way down to the kitchens, and Dobby was incredibly excited to see us. A couple of other house elves remembered how I had helped Winky, so they were welcoming too, but others were apprehensive because of the Gryffindor ties around our necks because of Hermione's knit hats. Just the same, though, I was able to convince the house elves to let us stay for an hour to make a couple batches of cookies — promising I'd make enough to share sweetened the deal.

Once Harry and I were set up in our corner of the kitchen, I pulled my Walkman out of my bag and placed a couple of charms around us so I could crank the volume without bothering anyone except Harry. I was far too shy to actually sing along to any of the songs, but I definitely tapped out rhythms against the counters and glanced at Harry out of the corner of my eye when I heard certain lyrics that I thought happened to relate to us.

He didn't say much as we moved around the kitchen, and he certainly didn't mention Cho or the match, but I could see that he felt better the longer we were down there, and I felt better with every passing minute, too. We left half of the cookies for the house elves at the end of our hour and brought the rest with us back up to the Gryffindor common room. Nearly everyone had already gone to bed by the time we returned, but the people who were still up were all too happy to help us destroy every last shred of evidence of our cookie-baking adventure.

Harry and I retreated to the table Ron and Hermione had abandoned and sat down across from each other with the bowl of remaining cookies in between us. I reached in for one of the sugar cookies and broke off a chunk.

"You know," I admitted in a soft voice as I popped the chunk into my mouth, "sometimes I wonder what Claire's favorite cookies are. I wish there was a way I could find out so I could send her a batch."

Harry looked at me thoughtfully for a moment before responding. "Did she ever mention anything like that in the memories you've recovered?"

"I don't think so. All I can really remember is that my mom makes the best cinnamon rolls." I smiled a bit and looked down the the remaining cookie in my hand. "I don't know much about my family, but what I do know is nice."

"I know the feeling," Harry said, his voice little more than a whisper. "I love it when Remus and Sirius talk about my dad. It makes me sad, of course, because it makes my parents even more real to me instead of just, well, two holes in my life, but at the same time, they were real. I want to know that they were real."

I nodded. "That makes sense. And for what it's worth, I think Remus and Sirius enjoy talking about him. Did I ever tell you that they talked about your dad a bit while I was there in October?"

Harry furrowed his brow and shook his head. "I don't think so. We were a bit too preoccupied by your complete lack of magic."

"Right," I said, blushing. "Well, now that we've got that sorted, I might as well tell you what they told me. Apparently he made a point of taking care of his friends however he could. Not unlike you, really."

A small smile made its way to Harry's face. "That's funny, because I was going to say that's not unlike you."

"Me?"

"Yes, you."

"How so?"

Harry looked pointedly at the cookies, then at me, then at the cookies, then at me.

"Point taken," I said. "Anyway, he apparently tried to slip Sirius sleeping potions when his insomnia was particularly problematic — don't look at me like that, Potter, I'd be able to sniff it out and avoid it accordingly if you tried that trick — and he always took notes for Remus after full moons, and that certainly sounds like you."

Harry's smile widened. "I try. What else did they say?"

"He only took notes in class after full moons. Otherwise, they told me he doodled, and he was good at it, too." I raised my eyebrows at Harry. "Have you dabbled in doodling?"

"No, I reckoned I'd be awful at it. Maybe I should give it a try."

"Maybe you should. It's not wasting time if you're doodling constellations, it just means you're studying for Astronomy."

He laughed. "Right. I'll keep that in mind." Harry polished off the rest of his cookie and narrowed his eyes at me suddenly. "What are you still doing awake? You have a match in the morning!"

"This seemed more important," I replied, shrugging.

"You're not nervous, are you?"

"Nervous isn't necessarily the word I'd use, but I'm not exactly full of confidence, either."

"Why not?"

I shrugged again, taking another bite of the cookie in my hand to avoid answering the question. Harry continued to look at me with narrowed eyes, however, his gaze never wavering, so once the cookie was gone, I sighed and leaned back in the chair.

"You know, the day of the farewell feast last year," I said, "it was Professor McGonagall who convinced me to go. She said that the first step forward was the hardest, but with every step I took after that, my path out of the darkness would become clearer." I stared at my hands, and, with a bit of effort, my magic answered my silent call. Blue and purple sparks danced across my fingertips without burning me at all, and as I continued, they swelled and swirled along with the rhythm of my words. "She wasn't counting on my parents dying, or my magic failing me then suddenly coming back with unbelievable force, she certainly wasn't counting on me being kidnapped, but, well, I think she's right. Like playing Beater instead of Chaser. I never would have learned how much I loved it if I hadn't decided to take that step forward and accept the twins' offer." I swallowed hard. "I've managed a couple steps forward on my own, but tomorrow is a big one. A public one. I suppose I'm a bit nervous because I don't want to make a fool of myself or anything like that, but more than that, I just want to prove to myself and to everyone else that I'm right where I'm meant to be. That I belong." I looked up at Harry for the first time, closing my hands around the sparks to extinguish them. "Does that make sense?"

"Not entirely," he said after a moment.

I blinked, but before I could try to explain further, he leaned forward and rested one of his hands on top of mine.

"You've always belonged."

~

The next morning dawned cloudy and cold, but blessedly not rainy. I stood at the window for a long moment since I was the first awake in my dormitory. I breathed in deeply, breathed out slowly. My hands still felt warm from where Harry's had rested mere hours before; my mind's eye could still recall the sincerity of his expression; "You've always belonged" was still ringing in my ears, Harry's voice creating a defiant countermelody to the endless din, eternal repetitive melody that tried to convince me that belonging was not only improbable but impossible. I looked out at the clouds as if daring rain to fall, but when nothing happened, I intentionally drew another deep breath.

I looked down at my hands and summoned sparks. I watched as various colors swirled between my fingertips, blue for sorrow and purple for fear and even a couple bold red sparks for love. I closed my eyes and focused on everything good I could remember about Quidditch, reaching as far back as I could remember.

The first broom I ever rode was Cedric's. He'd seen me watching him with wide-eyed wonder and decided it was time I give flying a shot for myself. So, one morning after breakfast, we walked outside and headed to the nearby meadow. He carefully strapped his helmet to my head and secured his jumper around my frame for extra protective measures before summoning his broom into his hand, mounting it, and pulling me on up in front of him. I squealed with excitement when my feet left the ground, and I got even more excited when Cedric's feet left, too. We rose a little higher off the ground every day, and after a couple of weeks, Cedric started flying me in small circles around the meadow. Once a month or two had passed, Cedric let me try flying it by myself, and I could still recall the pride in his voice when I completed a lap around the meadow all by myself.

When I got my own broom, the whole flying game changed. I was the more daring of the two of us. I flew farther, I flew higher, I flew faster. Cedric chased me everywhere, terrified I'd hurt myself in my excitement, but once I proved myself to be more than capable in the air, I became the one chasing him. Once I got my own broom, that meant we could start playing Quidditch together, too, and soon my room was filled with every Quidditch magazine Cedric had ever owned. We spent Saturday mornings sprawled on the floor of my room reading Seeker Weekly from cover to cover — well, to be more exact, Cedric would read it to me as best he could while I stared at the pictures, absolutely wonderstruck.

Cedric leaving for Hogwarts was terribly sad for me, because I lost my best friend and playmate, but receiving letters with the details of every single school match made missing him more bearable. When he made the Hufflepuff Quidditch team as a second-year, my excitement only grew. I hoped to join him on the Hufflepuff team in two years' time, but I ended up finding a family in the Gryffindor Quidditch team instead.

It was Quidditch, really, that had brought the most reassurance that I belonged in Gryffindor. The Quidditch Pitch had been where I had proven myself, time and time and time and time again. From the time I took Harry's broom for a test flight and caught the attention of Skye Parkin to the time I'd tried to protect Harry from Lockhart and had been blinded instead to the time I cast my first corporeal Patronus during a match to the time I'd represented Gryffindor in the match between Hogwarts and the other schools, the Quidditch Pitch had been the place where I felt most powerful, most confident, most accepted, most at home.

But Cedric had been the root of Quidditch for me. Losing him had been like being launched back to square one.

Just the same, I'd started to climb back up again. The position was new, the team was different, and the stakes were higher than ever before, but it was still Quidditch. At the end of the day, the sky had always been home. Flying had always been my greatest strength. And Quidditch had always given me my best family. First with Cedric, then with Harry and George and Fred and Oliver and Angelina and Alicia and Skye, then with Ginny and Ron and Dennis and Katie too.

When I opened my eyes again, the sparks were zipping back and forth between my hands, a glowing mix of red and yellow and white and even a bit of orange. Love. Joy. Determination. Pride.

I nodded to myself, clenching my fists around the sparks and lifting my chin.

This was the next step on my path out of the darkness, out of the fear, out of the insecurity, out of the past shell of myself. I was stepping into light, into confidence, into belonging, into who I was meant to be. And I was doing it with a Beater's bat in my hand.

~

The whole school was watching, waiting to see how Gryffindor would return after the attack of the Pink Venomous Tentacula, and Angelina made sure we gave everyone a show when we appeared at breakfast. Ginny had done my hair, pulling my hair back into a tight Dutch braid and tying it off with a small golden bow, and I had done hers in a Dutch braid as well, with an identical golden bow. Angelina, Alicia, and Katie had all tied their hair back with maroon bows — Ron and Dennis had declined our offer of bows, but they'd let us smear face paint in stripes under their eyes, gold under their left eyes and maroon under their right. All seven of us were wearing our Quidditch robes already, and Angelina had instructed us to hold our heads high no matter how anxious we were.

I found Harry's face first — he was grinning from ear to ear, directly at me. I smiled back at him, and Ginny and I wasted no time in marching to our typical spot in between the twins, me next to George and her next to Fred. Angelina sat down on Fred's other side, and Alicia and Katie took the seats to her right. Ron landed between between Harry and Hermione, and Dennis reluctantly lowered himself down on the other side of Harry. I offered him an encouraging nod before looking back at Harry, who was still grinning.

"Yeah," he said with a nod. "Yes. Yep. Yeah. I was right. You do belong."

"Don't let it get to your head, Potter," I replied. I glanced at Ron next to him, who was staring at his plate without actually making a move toward eating. I kicked him under the table. "Ron. Eat. You'll feel better."

He nodded unconvincingly, his eyes not leaving his plate, so I kicked him again.

This time, he looked up at me.

"It's like I told you," I said gently, "you can trust us to take care of the Bludgers. You only have to worry about the Quaffle. You can do that much, I know you can, I've seen it. Okay? Take a deep breath. Everything will be just fine."

Ron sighed shakily. "Just fine," he repeated in a somewhat strangled voice.

Dennis didn't look much more confident, or hungry, so I reached over and placed a slice of toast on his plate.

I leaned closer to him as I did so. "You know, Harry looked even more green before his first match than you do right now."

"Really?" Dennis asked in a small, disbelieving voice.

"Really?" Harry asked in a less-small yet more-disbelieving voice.

"Oh yes," I said, sitting up and beginning to spread pomegranate jelly over my own toast. "We were playing Slytherin, and I reckon he was the same color as their uniforms. I didn't even know someone was capable of turning that color, to be honest with you, it was a bit alarming."

Dennis laughed through his first bite of toast. "You're serious?"

I shot an amused glance at Harry. "Absolutely serious." I turned back to Dennis. "But you know what? Even though he was too nervous to eat a single bite of food, Gryffindor won the match because he caught the Snitch!" I lowered my voice as if I were about to tell a great secret. "Do you want to know how he caught the Snitch?"

"Do I?" Dennis repeated with a suspicious glance at Harry.

"I caught it in my mouth," Harry said. "Just about swallowed it. I know there's a lot of pressure on Seekers because we only have one job and 150 points hang in the balance, but what's fun about Seeker is that you're free to do whatever it takes to catch the Snitch. You have a variety of options at your disposal!"

"I'd rather not catch it in my mouth," Dennis replied, shuddering. "I doubt those wings taste very good."

Harry shook his head. "Not at all. I wouldn't recommend my strategy unless absolutely necessary. I'm sure you'll manage just fine on your own, based on what I've seen and heard about you."

Dennis smiled at that, and the rest of breakfast passed in somewhat lighter spirits. Eventually, the time came to leave, so all seven of us headed down to the Pitch.

Once in the locker room, Ginny and I secured each other's arm guards and grabbed our bats. We clacked our arm guards together, then our bats.

"Good luck, Weasley," I said.

"You too, Diggory," she replied with a grin. "I don't think we'll need luck, though. Do you?"

I returned her grin. "Nope."

I lowered myself onto the bench between her and Ron for Angelina's pep talk. She was wringing her hands nervously at first, but the longer she talked, the more confident she seemed.

"This year has been awful, definitely the worst in my Hogwarts experience. And I don't say that just to be negative or pessimistic, I mean that sincerely. This year's been harder for some than others—" She glanced at me meaningfully. "—but just the same, here we are. Umbridge tried to defeat us by taking away our Beaters and our Seeker, but here we are with just another generation of solid Gryffindor talent. All that matters today is going out there and playing the best game we possibly can. Now, who's with me?"

A cheer went up from the rest of us, and with that, we tossed our brooms over our shoulders and marched onto the Pitch, again with our heads held high.

Angelina and Henry shook hands in the middle of the field. Henry's eyes wandered a bit and met mine.

I nodded at him, and he nodded at me. Each of us knew how much this match meant to the other.

Madam Hooch told us all to mount our brooms. As I lifted my leg over the wooden handle, I glanced into the stands, looking for Harry. I found him close to the commentary box, with Fred and George on one side and Hermione and Neville on the other. When he saw me looking at him, he grinned and flashed a quick thumbs up my way. I grinned back just as the whistle blew.

The game was underway.

This one's for you, Cedric.

I was far too focused on sending the Bludgers away from those in maroon and toward those in yellow to listen to the commentary much, but I heard my name — our name — from time to time.

"Diggory swoops in and saves Johnson from a particularly speedy Bludger!"

"An excellent Bludger Backbeat from Diggory! Merlin, you'd never believe this is her first match as Beater with skill like that, would you, folks?"

"Diggory and Weasley team up for a Dopplebeater Defence maneuver targeted at Zacharias Smith — which he narrowly avoids, damn, nice try..."

"Close call for Diggory, she nearly caught that Bludger herself!"

"Weasley and Diggory chasing the same Bludger headed for Spinnet, who will get there first! Diggory! She sends it away from everyone!"

"Diggory sends a Bludger in the direction of Zacharias Smith but it is sent back her direction by Anthony Rickett! Merlin, that man looked upset about something..."

"Rickett again fires a Bludger at Diggory, but she redirects it back at Summerby, who dodges by the skin of his teeth!"

I knew there would be people in the stands who would be upset, angry even, possibly even furious, hearing our name on the Quidditch Pitch again. I knew there would be people in the stands who would be disappointed to see our name on the back of a maroon jersey and not a yellow jersey. I knew there would be people in the stands who wouldn't want me there, who would want him there instead, who would have given anything to have him there instead of me. I knew there would be people in the stands who thought our name was only his name.

I didn't let that bring me down during the match.

Because I also knew there would be people in the stands who were proud of me. And when I listened to the cacophony of the stadium, I heard their cheers louder than anything.

Soon, I started hitting my stride. Everything felt right, so right.

That was when Ginny started.

"You call that a Bludger Backbeat, Diggory?" she shouted as she soared past me. "Looked more like a muscle spasm to me."

I laughed as I switched the bat to my other hand. "Yeah, alright, we both know I was the one really powering our last Dopplebeater Defence, so you can shut up."

As much as I hated to admit it, my next Bludger Backbeat was distinctly more powerful. Before I knew it, I watching her as closely as I was watching the Bludgers, and she was watching me too.

That was when we started hitting our stride.

"Follow Rule 7, Diggory!"

"You do know you have a bat, right, Weasley? Your swing is so weak you might as well be using a quill."

"I cannot believe you sent that off to the right, Zacharias was right there just to your left!"

"Might want to focus on the second half of Rule 8!"

"Stay the hell out of my way, Diggory, you've got your own Bludger to worry about!"

"Merlin's sake, Weasley, at least try to finish your swing before you start heading off to the next Bludger!"

"The ghoul in our attic could have hit that Bludger harder than you just did!"

"Watch out, you're going to hit Creevey by accident if you don't pull your bat back in toward your body faster!"

And so forth and so on. I listened to Lee's commentary just enough to catch the score. The Hufflepuff score kept climbing, but after a while, Gryffindor got stuck at 50. Then Katie scored, and we were stuck at 60. Then Angelina scored twice, and we were stuck at 80. Alicia scored, putting us at 90, but Hufflepuff was at 200. Then 210. Then 220.

Henry Furls was a bloody good Keeper.

To my dismay, Zacharias Smith scored on Ron, making the score 230-90, in favor of Hufflepuff.

We needed the Snitch.

I smacked the Bludger toward Zacharias as hard as I could to buy myself a couple of seconds of time to scan the field. We needed the Snitch, and we needed it before Hufflepuff got the chance to score again. I doubted anything else would get past Henry, and I wasn't about to send a Bludger his way to try to eliminate him. I knew in my head he'd be fine and he wouldn't have any lasting injuries even if I did somehow manage to hit him, but I just couldn't bring myself to send a Bludger his way after everything we'd been through together. He was one of the only Hufflepuffs who liked me, I couldn't risk squandering that for a Quidditch match.

There. There was the Snitch.

I glanced up at Dennis. He was already on his way, he had already seen it.

I looked at Summerby. He was on his way too.

Where did that Bludger go?

Rickett was racing toward it. I squinted. He had a Nimbus 2000.

But I had a Nimbus 2001.

I hurtled toward the Bludger. I had to get there first.

As soon as I was in range, I wound up with both arms and swung with every ounce of strength I had left. It shot toward Summerby.

I held my breath as I watched the Bludger zoom in his direction.

Closer. Closer. Closer. Closer.

He was just beginning to reach for the Snitch when the Bludger zipped right past his shoulder. He yelped and pulled his arm back to his chest, meaning the Snitch was Dennis Creevey's for the taking. The second-year Seeker reached out and wrapped his fingers around the Snitch.

Gryffindor had won.

The stands erupted.

Dennis dismounted and landed on the grass with a thud, still looking at the Snitch in his hand with a mixture of shock and awe. I dismounted and reached him first.

"I knew you could do it!" I crowed. "Good job, Dennis, good job!"

I was soon followed by Ginny, then Angelina and Alicia and Katie, then Ron. I turned around to go find Henry when I saw him jogging toward me with a smile.

"Henry Furls, you are an incredible Keeper!" I announced as I jogged toward him too. "I'll be honest, I didn't get to watch you much, but bloody hell, that match went on forever, I can't believe you only let nine goals in, you're — Merlin, Cedric would be so bloody proud of you!"

Henry grinned, and I thought I even spied a glimmer of tears in his eyes. "Thank you. You make one hell of a Beater, Lucy, and I sincerely hope I never have to play against you again."

I laughed, but before I could reply, strong arms wrapped around my waist and spun me in a circle so fast I nearly saw stars. There were only two people who had ever spun me like that, and surely enough, it was George's voice I heard.

"YOU WERE AMAZING!" he shouted directly into my ear. "MERLIN'S PANTS, YOU WERE SO BLOODY INCREDIBLE!"

I shrieked with laughter and shoved against his arms, since he was still spinning me. "I only did well because I had a really good teacher! Put me down!"

"No, I don't think I will!" George said with a laugh, and I found myself launched through the air directly into Fred's arms.

"I SECOND EVERYTHING MY TWIN ALREADY SAID!" Fred declared. "YOU EVEN REMEMBERED RULE 7!"

"Oh, shut up!" I protested, still laughing so hard I could barely breathe. "Of course I did, your sister kept shouting it at me!"

I finally squirmed free of Fred and had only been on the ground for half a second before Harry barreled toward me and swept me up into a hug with so much force he nearly knocked what little wind was left from my lungs.

"You never cease to amaze, Lucy," he said in my ear. "You belong. Don't ever doubt that again."

Then he let go, smiled at me, and hurried off to go find Ron.

Leaving me there breathless and blushing and bewildered.

Ginny sprinted over then, and the two of us embraced so tightly it was a miracle neither of us broke ribs.

"You were brilliant," I said, "truly brilliant, absolutely bloody brilliant."

"You did it." She held tighter. "You did it, you're here."

"We did it. We're here."

Ron rushed over then and joined the hug, followed by the rest of the team.

We had done it. And even though no one said anything, we all knew this was about far more than just a Quidditch match.

When I dared to look up at the staff box, I noticed a certain Pink Venomous Tentacula was scowling down at us.

I offered her a smile before turning and throwing an arm around Ginny's shoulders and heading off to the locker room to deposit my broom and protective gear before the party.

And what a party it was.

~

Tonight I'm gonna have myself a real good time
I feel alive
And the world I'll turn it inside out, yeah
I'm floating around in ecstasy
So don't stop me now
Don't stop me
'Cause I'm having a good time, having a good time

I'm a shooting star leaping through the sky
Like a tiger defying the laws of gravity
I'm a racing car passing by like Lady Godiva
I'm gonna go, go, go
There's no stopping me

I'm burnin' through the sky, yeah
200 degrees
That's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit
I'm travelling at the speed of light
I wanna make a supersonic man out of you

I'm having such a good time
I'm having a ball
Don't stop me now
If you wanna have a good time just give me a call
Don't stop me now
'Cause I'm having a good time
Don't stop me now
Yes, I'm havin' a good time
I don't want to stop at all

"Don't Stop Me Now"
Queen