"But you teach at that time," Ginny interrupted. "He knows that."
"Yes he does," Harry agreed.
"And he expected you to cancel your class for Quidditch practice?" Ginny guessed.
"Right in one," Harry said with a small smile.
"Well I'm also guessing that you weren't inclined to go along with that," she said impishly.
"Clever one, aren't you?" Harry responded cheekily.
"The cleverest," she retorted with a laugh. "So then what happened?"
"He told me to choose what was more important to me," Harry explained. "And I told him there was no choice for me."
"Oh wait, wait, let me guess," Ginny butted in. "He got all smug and assumed you were choosing Quidditch, right?"
Harry smiled sincerely at her. "Well you do know your brother quite well. I'll give you that."
"So then he threw you off the team?" she asked him.
"Pretty much," Harry said. "He said that nobody with that attitude would be playing on his team, or something like that. Then he stormed off and went up to our dorm room."
"I'm sorry, Harry," Ginny told him genuinely, looking straight into his eyes searchingly.
"It's not that big a deal," Harry shrugged noncommittally. "At least no one is taking my broom this year. I can still fly one way or another," he added the last part in a whisper.
"That's not what's really bothering you, is it?" she asked him seriously. "Quidditch, I mean," she clarified, still searching his eyes.
Harry met her gaze steadily and gave her a rough grin. "You really are good, you know that?"
"Yes, I do hear as much from time to time," she responded haughtily as she flicked some imaginary lint off the shoulders of her robes.
Harry responded with a small laugh and a light punch on the shoulder that was really more like a tap. "Don't let it go to your head."
"Who me?" she retorted cheekily.
"Mmhmm," he replied throatily.
"So what were you thinking about when I came over?" she asked him seriously, all signs of playfulness forgotten on her features.
But Harry wasn't done playing quite yet. "You," he responded simply.
"Very funny, Potter," she returned, cuffing him on the shoulder. "What were you really thinking about?"
"You," he said seriously.
She studied him carefully for several moments before accepting the sincerity of his reply. "Why me?" she asked flabbergasted.
"Well I started off thinking about how I seem to be growing apart from Ron and Hermione this year," Harry told her a little sadly. But his voice picked up a little as he continued. "But then I began thinking about how I'm closer to other people this year, like Neville and Luna and especially you."
"Why me especially?" she asked him in a whisper.
"You should know the answer to that. You must be losing your touch," he teased lightly, which earned him another slug on his arm. "Well I feel like we've become pretty close lately, like you're very quickly becoming my best friend."
"And that's what you were so deep in thought about when I came over?" she asked him.
"Yep," he told her. "I honestly was thinking about you at the time."
"Well I can't say I blame you for thinking about me," she replied, regaining her snooty tone.
"Oh yeah? And why is that?" he demanded.
"Well I am quite beautiful and intelligent and could give any one of my brothers a run for their money in a duel," she said as if it were the most logical thing in the world.
"You forgot loyal and trustworthy and kind," Harry inserted.
"Of course, and all of those too, and many more. So it's quite natural that you'd be thinking about me," she stated.
"Well that's a relief," Harry blew out a breath and wiped his brow. "It's nice to know that I'm normal for once."
She giggled at his comment. "I am sorry about Ron and the whole Quidditch thing, Harry," she told him at length. "I'll try hexing some sense into him next time I see him."
"Thanks," Harry said with a laugh.
They were quiet for a short time. "It's just so frustrating, feeling your best friends slipping away from you. I just keep wondering what went wrong. Why are things falling apart between us? Why now?"