The Years of Blue [2]

Chapter 58: Snapshots of March

"You mean to tell me that Harry tied in first with Cedric all thanks to a house elf?" I remarked, dumbstruck, as Ginny nodded her head with an ever growing smile.

"He just gave him the Gillyweed. Harry did everything else. Honestly though, have you never heard of a house elf helping a wizard before?"

"It's not that," I quipped, giving Ginny a stern glance over. "It's that Harry never asked for help from the creature in the first place. And yet it still worked until dawn to help him. That's not natural."

"Well, "Ginny started, "Dobby is not a natural house elf. You should hear the stories Hermione has on that creature. He used to belong to the Malfoy family if you can believe it."

"Not really. What's a house elf from the Malfoy's doing with Harry?"

"He used to belong to the Malfoys. As in he was let go or set free. By Harry, actually. It was rather sweet of him."

I paused in my walk and turned to face Ginny's thoughtful expression.

"You're swooning again."

"That obvious?" She asked, going red. I nodded, with a growing smile. I always liked the idea of Ginny with Harry. Maybe in a fairytale those two would work out well.

But this was no fairytale. And crushes don't usually relate back to one another in the real world.

We turned back to our walk toward the black lake where students, mostly Beauxbatons girls, picnicked by the shore. It was early March, a week after the second task had been completed, and the weather was already showing signs of spring. The frost that had once covered every living thing was shrinking into the wet earth, ready for new life to spring out.

The sky, however, remained grey, with little sunlight to warm our backs. The Durmstrang boys could care less, as they were out in the water, swimming like it was the fourth of July. The rest of us were desperate to sit outside again, but not so desperate as to swim in the cold depths the lake provided. So, if that meant we had to cast a spell on picnic blankets to stay mud free, so be it.

"I swear I'm over him, you know," Ginny continued. "I reckon I haven't thought about him like that in over a month."

"I find that hard to believe, but okay." Ginny coughed back a laugh, as I glanced at her with a sly grin.

"Go on then, tell me. How's the whole Michael thing going? The dates are going well so what's next? Have you both made it official yet?"

"Not yet," Ginny answered ruefully. "Though I would have thought he would have asked by now. I'll say something to him tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? What's going on tomorrow?" I asked, thinking back to what was happening this coming week. It was Saturday afternoon. And as far as I could recall, nothing other than being lazy was my plan for Sunday.

"Nothing. I've just made up my mind. I should go owl him to meet me. D'you mind telling them I'll be right back?" I glanced ahead toward my French friends who were busy cutting open miniature baguettes sent in from Gisele's mother last night. Everyone had been very excited to eat French bread again. Especially me.