Fic: Never Having To Ask (2003)
Author: girlyswot
Title: Never Having To Ask
Challenge: 2003
Rating: G
Genre: Fluff in the end
Word Count: 3000
Notes/Warnings: Though this fic is entirely canon and epilogue compliant, it is not wholly interview compliant.
February
The newspaper was waiting for him on the kitchen table. Ginny had folded it so that Harry couldn’t miss the relevant headline. In large capital letters, The Daily Diviner screamed the news at him. Damn, thought Harry, opening the paper and sweeping away the crumbs from Ginny’s breakfast. He’d hoped for another day’s grace at least before the story broke.
Harry didn’t bother to read beyond the first paragraph. The details might be made up but there just was enough truth mixed in that there’d be no chance of suing. He leaned back in his chair and sighed loudly. Shame there was no one around to hear it.
Normally it didn’t matter. Ginny left for training at eight and Harry only stayed a few more minutes to finish his coffee and tidy up the breakfast things before he was off to the Ministry. Not today. Oh, no. Today, Williamson had informed him, in a tone that positively dripped with repressed glee, Harry’s presence would not be required in the Auror department. Today, they would need only their most reliable Aurors. Those who were properly trained, he explained. He was sure Harry would understand that this was a matter of the utmost delicacy, needing careful handling. Harry ground his teeth and refrained from comment.
The worst had been having to go back to the locker room. He could have borne it better if the others had given him a hard time. It was the sympathetic looks he couldn’t stand. Especially not from Ron. Ron, who’d kept his head and acted responsibly, Williamson said. Ron, who hadn’t endangered his own life or the lives of three other Aurors, not to mention countless civilians. Ron who hadn’t mistaken a Hallowe’en costume for a Death Eater mask and a Dark Mark. Ron who was turning out to be an exemplary Auror, in line for rapid promotion.
Truly, Harry didn’t know whether he was being discriminated against or not. It wasn’t that he’d expected to find it easy, exactly. He knew that his OWL’s were only just good enough and he hadn’t even finished his NEWT’s. And everyone knew that Auror training was one of the toughest in the Ministry, and for good reason. But he had thought that he would be good enough. He’d had more experience than anyone else, for a start. He’d always been good at duelling and his Defence marks had been the best in the year.
Yet he never seemed to get it quite right. Harry wasn’t good at following protocol and the Auror department didn’t appreciate mavericks. Yesterday wasn’t the first time he’d been hauled into Williamson’s office for acting out of line and Harry didn’t imagine it would be the last.
Unless…
Harry pushed back his chair and stood up, raking his hands through his hair in agitation at the sudden, unbidden, treacherous thought.
You could leave.
There it was again. Harry shook his head, trying to get rid of the insidious voice inside.
The world is still full of criminals, he told himself. Wicked, wicked men and women who need to be stopped.
It doesn’t have to be you stopping them.
Innocent children who need to be protected.
You think you’re the only one who can do it?
No, but…
Still have that saving-people complex, don’t you?
‘I don’t,’ Harry shouted to the empty room. ‘I don’t,’ he repeated more quietly to himself. ‘I just… I don’t know what else to do.’
April
So much for bloody April showers, Ginny muttered under her breath. The freezing rain was turning into bloody hailstones and out here in the middle of the Yorkshire moors there was nowhere to turn for cover. She glared in the general direction of the Harpies’ Seeker, knowing full well that Higgins wouldn’t be able to see her. And, damn, that meant she wouldn’t be able to see the Snitch either. They were going to be out here forever.
Christ… Ginny ducked swiftly as a Bludger whipped past her, just a little too close for comfort. She swerved down to the left, hardly able to make out the shapes of the other players, let alone the Quaffle being passed back and forth.
It was the first time Harry had missed one of her matches. She’d told him it was fine, she understood. And she did. It was Teddy’s birthday and Harry was always sensitive about things like that. It didn’t take a genius to work out why and Ginny was usually happy to let Harry spoil the kid as much as he wanted. Andromeda more than made up for it with her firm discipline and no-nonsense attitudes. Besides, Ginny reckoned it was better for Harry to spoil his godson now than his own children later. Much later.
A shout came from just behind her. Ginny turned, automatically sticking out her arm and grabbed the Quaffle. She pulled up sharply, almost knocking her opponent off his broom, then before he could regain his balance, she was off again, down and to the left, yelling across to Merla, dodging the Bludgers and scoring a neat goal. And that was it. Hail, rain, fog, cold - not for the first time, Ginny realised there was nowhere she would rather be than out here on a Quidditch pitch in the thick of the action.
Harry had kissed her and wished her luck, and she’d promised to come to the party as soon as the game was finished. Which looked like being midnight if Higgins didn’t spot that Snitch soon. Harry would be organising the games by now. He’d spent most of yesterday evening wrestling with Spellotape and brightly coloured paper in preparation for Pass the Parcel. She’d reminded him to throw in a couple of rounds of Dead Dragons just to calm the children down before tea.
They’d be better off playing Dead Dragons out in this weather. At least that way it would have to end eventually, even if they were all frozen into blocks of ice before it happened. The voice of the commentator was just audible over the wind - apparently the Wasps had scored again. Ginny tucked her scarf in more tightly and hoped that she still had enough feeling in her fingers to catch a Quaffle if it came near.
This was what you wanted, she reminded herself. Professional Quidditch. The World Cup was coming up next year and she knew she had a half-decent shot at a place in the squad. Play every game as if it’s the final, Charlie had told her. Imagine you’re up against Slytherin, Harry said, with a grin. Ginny smiled to herself and gripped her broom tighter. She’d give it everything she’d got. It didn’t matter that it was still pouring with rain or that her toes were blue with cold - she was doing what she loved and no one could take that away from her.
July
‘He’s quite taken with his Uncle Harry, isn’t he?’ Nothing could keep the joy out of George’s voice today.
Harry didn’t look up. The tiny red face of the newest member of the Weasley family was utterly absorbing. Harry had held babies before, of course. Teddy was the first, though he’d been quite a lot bigger than this before Harry had got to see him. Then Victoire, but she had been so pale and looked so fragile that Harry had been relieved when Molly had descended on him and lifted the tiny girl safely against her shoulder. But Fred… Fred was perfect, Harry decided, with his chunky little arms and his perfect little fingers, his dark blue eyes and his downy red hair. He was sleeping now, blowing tiny bubbles which his Uncle Fred would absolutely have called his first raspberry.
‘I think Uncle Harry is quite taken with him,’ Ginny replied, coming to sit next to them. ‘Hmm?’
Harry smiled, shifting Fred so that Ginny could see her nephew more clearly. ‘Want to hold him?’
Ginny reached out her finger to stroke the child’s face softly. ‘No, he looks comfortable with you.’
She looked up at him and Harry met her gaze. For a moment, he forgot to breathe. This was it. He knew.
Harry had never said anything to her about leaving the Aurors. There hadn’t seemed much point when it was all so vague in his own mind. He didn’t have a clue what else he might want to do, so he might as well carry on doing something that he’d been trained for. Since the incident back in February he’d done a bit better, he thought. No more headlines, anyway, even if Williamson wasn’t exactly praising him to the skies.
But now there was the baby. And Ginny was looking at him as if she understood exactly what he wanted. Harry opened his mouth to speak, but she turned away to say something to her mother, and then George came over to take Fred again and the moment was gone. Harry reached out to take Ginny’s hand and squeeze it briefly, hoping she’d understand that they’d talk about it later.
September
Harry never said anything to her. Usually it irritated Ginny that Harry didn’t talk about stuff unless it was dragged out of him. But he never mentioned the baby, and she was grateful. For the last couple of months she’d been training absolutely single-mindedly. The trials for the next World Cup team were coming up and there was no way she was prepared to miss that chance. Realistically, Ginny knew that she’d have to fly better than she’d ever flown before to make it this time. There were at least half a dozen Chasers with a better shot at the squad than she had. But she was young, she had time. She’d try out now, get a sense of what was required and then, in four years time, she’d make damn certain she was ready. Which meant not taking a year out to have a baby.
She'd seen what happened. On the Harpies team they'd all seen it. They’d all keep flying as long as they could, training for months after they were left off the team, swearing that they’d be back on their brooms within a few weeks of the birth. Maybe a third came back. And only a handful ever made it onto the team again. Most of them gave up the struggle to find enough hours for sleeping and feeding and flying, and subsided happily enough into domestic bliss.
At least, Ginny assumed it was domestic bliss. She wasn’t about to find out. She was going to reach for her dream and nothing was going to stop her. And, to be fair to Harry, he’d never tried. He never said a word.
It was just that she knew him too well. She saw the way his eyes lit up when one of her brothers arrived with a child on their shoulder or a toddler round their ankles. She could tell how excited he got, days before Teddy Lupin came for a visit. There was something in the way he reached for her hand while he was holding little Fred that day that told exactly how much he was longing for a child of his own.
And one day, Ginny told herself, he’d have one. There was plenty of time. They were both young yet. She had a good ten or fifteen more years of top-level Quidditch to play. No rush. Her brothers were keeping Mum well supplied with grandchildren. Besides, she knew that Harry was proud of her. He wore his Harpies sweatshirt all the time and he was always forcing people to listen to blow by blow accounts of her latest matches. He loved bringing Teddy to watch her play. He’d never ask her to give it up. He hadn’t asked her and she knew he wouldn’t.
If only he weren't so miserable. Harry had finally admitted that he was finding being an Auror much harder than he’d expected. Once she’d got him to start talking, Ginny found that she only had to listen patiently and everything came out. All the humiliating times that he’d been singled out in front of the others, all the assignments when he’d been too cautious and then the others where he’d overcompensated and escalated the situation unnecessarily. The paperwork that he didn’t see the need for and the protocols he didn’t understand.
‘I just want to help people, Ginny,’ he told her despairingly. ‘I thought I knew how to do that, but…’ He spread his hands helplessly. ‘It doesn’t seem to be the way I thought it would.’
‘There are lots of ways to help people, Harry. You don’t have to be an Auror.’
He looked at her then, with green eyes full of fear and doubt. ‘I don’t know how to do anything else, Ginny.’
‘Yes, you do,’ she told him firmly. ‘You’ll find the right thing and you’ll be brilliant at it, I know you will.’
He didn’t say any more and as the trials had got closer and she’d been training longer and longer hours, there hadn’t been another chance to talk. Harry was almost as nervous as she was about the trials. He’d stayed up half the night trimming her broomstick and polishing it, checking the balance and running through the Charm sequence, getting it just the way she liked it. He told Ginny that he’d arranged to take the week off work and he was going to bring Teddy to watch some of the trials as well. Ginny nodded.
‘Eat your breakfast,’ Harry told her firmly. ‘It’ll help.’
Ginny shook her head. She couldn’t possibly eat. She was only just managing not to throw up as it was. ‘I think I’ll just go and check the broom again.’
Harry grabbed her hand as she walked past him. ‘You can do this,’ he said. ‘It’s just sitting on a broom and throwing a ball around.’
She didn’t laugh.
Harry pulled her down onto his lap. ‘Ginny, it’s Quidditch. It’s fantastic and it’s fun and you’re good at it.’ He was stroking his hand at the base of her spine in that place which always made her tingle. ‘It’ll be fun today. You’ll see.’
Ginny held onto his shirt and tried not to think about all the ways it might not be fun. ‘What if I fall off?’
Harry laughed. ‘When was the last time you fell off a broomstick?’
‘First year,’ she told him promptly. ‘Hooch had just let us kick off for the first time and then you came out of the front door. I swerved to get a good look and didn’t notice Luna coming up behind me. We both ended up in a heap on the ground.’
‘Don’t look at me today,’ Harry warned her seriously. ‘I don’t want you to get distracted and fall off into a heap. I might have to come and save you.’
She punched his chest lightly.
‘Eat something,’ he urged. He reached for the triangle of toast left on his plate and handed it to her.
‘Marmalade.’ Ginny screwed up her face but ate it anyway.
‘Gin?’
‘Mmm?’
‘I love you.’
She smiled. ‘I know, Harry.’
December
She hadn’t fallen off, but she hadn’t made the squad either. One of the papers had given her a nice write up, saying that the future prospects for the team looked good. The Harpies were having their best season for years and Ginny was their star Chaser.
It was late afternoon on Christmas Eve when she finally got home from a triumphant three week tour of eastern Europe. Harry was threatening to curse a pine tree in the corner of the room and, apparently, the fairy lights were fighting back. She giggled.
Harry spun round, his face flushed with embarrassment. ‘It’s um… don’t worry, I’ll tidy up…’
Ginny shook her head and came over to stand beside him. The tree was lopsided and half the baubles were falling off. The tinsel had wound itself into knots and the angel on the top branch was clearly drunk.
‘It’s perfect,’ she whispered.
Harry put his arm around her shoulders. ‘Next year I’ll get Teddy to do it. I’m sure he’d make a better job.’
Ginny took a deep breath. Now was the moment.
‘You must be hungry,’ Harry cut in. ‘Sit down, I’ll get you something.’
While Harry disappeared into the kitchen, Ginny went over to her suitcase and extracted a large box wrapped in gaudy red and green paper.
‘Here.’ She took the plate of sandwiches he’d made and held the present out to him. ‘Happy Christmas, Harry.’
‘It’s not tomorrow yet.’ He held the box on his knee and looked at her, waiting for an explanation.
‘I don’t want you to wait for this one.’
Harry gave her a strange look but obediently began to pull at the paper. The box inside was almost as brightly coloured as the wrapping paper, patterned in blues and yellows with flashes of red. ‘Nimbus 2004!’, the label said. ‘All new features! With Stabilisers and Safety Harness! Charmed to keep your toddler at a safe height.’
‘Um, Ginny, are you sure this is for me? I already got a Firebolt for Teddy.’
‘It’s for you.’ Ginny watched his face, waiting for the penny to drop.
It was like seeing a Transfiguration in slow motion. The wrinkles of his confusion gradually flattened as his eyes widened in shock. His mouth opened but he was silent. Then the corners widened into a smile before finally, he lunged forward and kissed her, knocking her plate flying and sending crumbs everywhere.
‘I’m not giving up Quidditch,’ Ginny told him, between kisses.
‘Don’t want you to,’ Harry muttered.
‘And we’re not having a nanny,’ she gasped.
‘Certainly not.’ He’d managed to shift them both so that she was sitting on his lap now.
‘So you’ll have to stay at home and look after it.’
Harry stopped kissing her then and pulled away slightly so that she could see the grin. ‘I’ll send in my resignation tomorrow.’
Title: Never Having To Ask
Challenge: 2003
Rating: G
Genre: Fluff in the end
Word Count: 3000
Notes/Warnings: Though this fic is entirely canon and epilogue compliant, it is not wholly interview compliant.
February
The newspaper was waiting for him on the kitchen table. Ginny had folded it so that Harry couldn’t miss the relevant headline. In large capital letters, The Daily Diviner screamed the news at him. Damn, thought Harry, opening the paper and sweeping away the crumbs from Ginny’s breakfast. He’d hoped for another day’s grace at least before the story broke.
Harry didn’t bother to read beyond the first paragraph. The details might be made up but there just was enough truth mixed in that there’d be no chance of suing. He leaned back in his chair and sighed loudly. Shame there was no one around to hear it.
Normally it didn’t matter. Ginny left for training at eight and Harry only stayed a few more minutes to finish his coffee and tidy up the breakfast things before he was off to the Ministry. Not today. Oh, no. Today, Williamson had informed him, in a tone that positively dripped with repressed glee, Harry’s presence would not be required in the Auror department. Today, they would need only their most reliable Aurors. Those who were properly trained, he explained. He was sure Harry would understand that this was a matter of the utmost delicacy, needing careful handling. Harry ground his teeth and refrained from comment.
The worst had been having to go back to the locker room. He could have borne it better if the others had given him a hard time. It was the sympathetic looks he couldn’t stand. Especially not from Ron. Ron, who’d kept his head and acted responsibly, Williamson said. Ron, who hadn’t endangered his own life or the lives of three other Aurors, not to mention countless civilians. Ron who hadn’t mistaken a Hallowe’en costume for a Death Eater mask and a Dark Mark. Ron who was turning out to be an exemplary Auror, in line for rapid promotion.
Truly, Harry didn’t know whether he was being discriminated against or not. It wasn’t that he’d expected to find it easy, exactly. He knew that his OWL’s were only just good enough and he hadn’t even finished his NEWT’s. And everyone knew that Auror training was one of the toughest in the Ministry, and for good reason. But he had thought that he would be good enough. He’d had more experience than anyone else, for a start. He’d always been good at duelling and his Defence marks had been the best in the year.
Yet he never seemed to get it quite right. Harry wasn’t good at following protocol and the Auror department didn’t appreciate mavericks. Yesterday wasn’t the first time he’d been hauled into Williamson’s office for acting out of line and Harry didn’t imagine it would be the last.
Unless…
Harry pushed back his chair and stood up, raking his hands through his hair in agitation at the sudden, unbidden, treacherous thought.
You could leave.
There it was again. Harry shook his head, trying to get rid of the insidious voice inside.
The world is still full of criminals, he told himself. Wicked, wicked men and women who need to be stopped.
It doesn’t have to be you stopping them.
Innocent children who need to be protected.
You think you’re the only one who can do it?
No, but…
Still have that saving-people complex, don’t you?
‘I don’t,’ Harry shouted to the empty room. ‘I don’t,’ he repeated more quietly to himself. ‘I just… I don’t know what else to do.’
April
So much for bloody April showers, Ginny muttered under her breath. The freezing rain was turning into bloody hailstones and out here in the middle of the Yorkshire moors there was nowhere to turn for cover. She glared in the general direction of the Harpies’ Seeker, knowing full well that Higgins wouldn’t be able to see her. And, damn, that meant she wouldn’t be able to see the Snitch either. They were going to be out here forever.
Christ… Ginny ducked swiftly as a Bludger whipped past her, just a little too close for comfort. She swerved down to the left, hardly able to make out the shapes of the other players, let alone the Quaffle being passed back and forth.
It was the first time Harry had missed one of her matches. She’d told him it was fine, she understood. And she did. It was Teddy’s birthday and Harry was always sensitive about things like that. It didn’t take a genius to work out why and Ginny was usually happy to let Harry spoil the kid as much as he wanted. Andromeda more than made up for it with her firm discipline and no-nonsense attitudes. Besides, Ginny reckoned it was better for Harry to spoil his godson now than his own children later. Much later.
A shout came from just behind her. Ginny turned, automatically sticking out her arm and grabbed the Quaffle. She pulled up sharply, almost knocking her opponent off his broom, then before he could regain his balance, she was off again, down and to the left, yelling across to Merla, dodging the Bludgers and scoring a neat goal. And that was it. Hail, rain, fog, cold - not for the first time, Ginny realised there was nowhere she would rather be than out here on a Quidditch pitch in the thick of the action.
Harry had kissed her and wished her luck, and she’d promised to come to the party as soon as the game was finished. Which looked like being midnight if Higgins didn’t spot that Snitch soon. Harry would be organising the games by now. He’d spent most of yesterday evening wrestling with Spellotape and brightly coloured paper in preparation for Pass the Parcel. She’d reminded him to throw in a couple of rounds of Dead Dragons just to calm the children down before tea.
They’d be better off playing Dead Dragons out in this weather. At least that way it would have to end eventually, even if they were all frozen into blocks of ice before it happened. The voice of the commentator was just audible over the wind - apparently the Wasps had scored again. Ginny tucked her scarf in more tightly and hoped that she still had enough feeling in her fingers to catch a Quaffle if it came near.
This was what you wanted, she reminded herself. Professional Quidditch. The World Cup was coming up next year and she knew she had a half-decent shot at a place in the squad. Play every game as if it’s the final, Charlie had told her. Imagine you’re up against Slytherin, Harry said, with a grin. Ginny smiled to herself and gripped her broom tighter. She’d give it everything she’d got. It didn’t matter that it was still pouring with rain or that her toes were blue with cold - she was doing what she loved and no one could take that away from her.
July
‘He’s quite taken with his Uncle Harry, isn’t he?’ Nothing could keep the joy out of George’s voice today.
Harry didn’t look up. The tiny red face of the newest member of the Weasley family was utterly absorbing. Harry had held babies before, of course. Teddy was the first, though he’d been quite a lot bigger than this before Harry had got to see him. Then Victoire, but she had been so pale and looked so fragile that Harry had been relieved when Molly had descended on him and lifted the tiny girl safely against her shoulder. But Fred… Fred was perfect, Harry decided, with his chunky little arms and his perfect little fingers, his dark blue eyes and his downy red hair. He was sleeping now, blowing tiny bubbles which his Uncle Fred would absolutely have called his first raspberry.
‘I think Uncle Harry is quite taken with him,’ Ginny replied, coming to sit next to them. ‘Hmm?’
Harry smiled, shifting Fred so that Ginny could see her nephew more clearly. ‘Want to hold him?’
Ginny reached out her finger to stroke the child’s face softly. ‘No, he looks comfortable with you.’
She looked up at him and Harry met her gaze. For a moment, he forgot to breathe. This was it. He knew.
Harry had never said anything to her about leaving the Aurors. There hadn’t seemed much point when it was all so vague in his own mind. He didn’t have a clue what else he might want to do, so he might as well carry on doing something that he’d been trained for. Since the incident back in February he’d done a bit better, he thought. No more headlines, anyway, even if Williamson wasn’t exactly praising him to the skies.
But now there was the baby. And Ginny was looking at him as if she understood exactly what he wanted. Harry opened his mouth to speak, but she turned away to say something to her mother, and then George came over to take Fred again and the moment was gone. Harry reached out to take Ginny’s hand and squeeze it briefly, hoping she’d understand that they’d talk about it later.
September
Harry never said anything to her. Usually it irritated Ginny that Harry didn’t talk about stuff unless it was dragged out of him. But he never mentioned the baby, and she was grateful. For the last couple of months she’d been training absolutely single-mindedly. The trials for the next World Cup team were coming up and there was no way she was prepared to miss that chance. Realistically, Ginny knew that she’d have to fly better than she’d ever flown before to make it this time. There were at least half a dozen Chasers with a better shot at the squad than she had. But she was young, she had time. She’d try out now, get a sense of what was required and then, in four years time, she’d make damn certain she was ready. Which meant not taking a year out to have a baby.
She'd seen what happened. On the Harpies team they'd all seen it. They’d all keep flying as long as they could, training for months after they were left off the team, swearing that they’d be back on their brooms within a few weeks of the birth. Maybe a third came back. And only a handful ever made it onto the team again. Most of them gave up the struggle to find enough hours for sleeping and feeding and flying, and subsided happily enough into domestic bliss.
At least, Ginny assumed it was domestic bliss. She wasn’t about to find out. She was going to reach for her dream and nothing was going to stop her. And, to be fair to Harry, he’d never tried. He never said a word.
It was just that she knew him too well. She saw the way his eyes lit up when one of her brothers arrived with a child on their shoulder or a toddler round their ankles. She could tell how excited he got, days before Teddy Lupin came for a visit. There was something in the way he reached for her hand while he was holding little Fred that day that told exactly how much he was longing for a child of his own.
And one day, Ginny told herself, he’d have one. There was plenty of time. They were both young yet. She had a good ten or fifteen more years of top-level Quidditch to play. No rush. Her brothers were keeping Mum well supplied with grandchildren. Besides, she knew that Harry was proud of her. He wore his Harpies sweatshirt all the time and he was always forcing people to listen to blow by blow accounts of her latest matches. He loved bringing Teddy to watch her play. He’d never ask her to give it up. He hadn’t asked her and she knew he wouldn’t.
If only he weren't so miserable. Harry had finally admitted that he was finding being an Auror much harder than he’d expected. Once she’d got him to start talking, Ginny found that she only had to listen patiently and everything came out. All the humiliating times that he’d been singled out in front of the others, all the assignments when he’d been too cautious and then the others where he’d overcompensated and escalated the situation unnecessarily. The paperwork that he didn’t see the need for and the protocols he didn’t understand.
‘I just want to help people, Ginny,’ he told her despairingly. ‘I thought I knew how to do that, but…’ He spread his hands helplessly. ‘It doesn’t seem to be the way I thought it would.’
‘There are lots of ways to help people, Harry. You don’t have to be an Auror.’
He looked at her then, with green eyes full of fear and doubt. ‘I don’t know how to do anything else, Ginny.’
‘Yes, you do,’ she told him firmly. ‘You’ll find the right thing and you’ll be brilliant at it, I know you will.’
He didn’t say any more and as the trials had got closer and she’d been training longer and longer hours, there hadn’t been another chance to talk. Harry was almost as nervous as she was about the trials. He’d stayed up half the night trimming her broomstick and polishing it, checking the balance and running through the Charm sequence, getting it just the way she liked it. He told Ginny that he’d arranged to take the week off work and he was going to bring Teddy to watch some of the trials as well. Ginny nodded.
‘Eat your breakfast,’ Harry told her firmly. ‘It’ll help.’
Ginny shook her head. She couldn’t possibly eat. She was only just managing not to throw up as it was. ‘I think I’ll just go and check the broom again.’
Harry grabbed her hand as she walked past him. ‘You can do this,’ he said. ‘It’s just sitting on a broom and throwing a ball around.’
She didn’t laugh.
Harry pulled her down onto his lap. ‘Ginny, it’s Quidditch. It’s fantastic and it’s fun and you’re good at it.’ He was stroking his hand at the base of her spine in that place which always made her tingle. ‘It’ll be fun today. You’ll see.’
Ginny held onto his shirt and tried not to think about all the ways it might not be fun. ‘What if I fall off?’
Harry laughed. ‘When was the last time you fell off a broomstick?’
‘First year,’ she told him promptly. ‘Hooch had just let us kick off for the first time and then you came out of the front door. I swerved to get a good look and didn’t notice Luna coming up behind me. We both ended up in a heap on the ground.’
‘Don’t look at me today,’ Harry warned her seriously. ‘I don’t want you to get distracted and fall off into a heap. I might have to come and save you.’
She punched his chest lightly.
‘Eat something,’ he urged. He reached for the triangle of toast left on his plate and handed it to her.
‘Marmalade.’ Ginny screwed up her face but ate it anyway.
‘Gin?’
‘Mmm?’
‘I love you.’
She smiled. ‘I know, Harry.’
December
She hadn’t fallen off, but she hadn’t made the squad either. One of the papers had given her a nice write up, saying that the future prospects for the team looked good. The Harpies were having their best season for years and Ginny was their star Chaser.
It was late afternoon on Christmas Eve when she finally got home from a triumphant three week tour of eastern Europe. Harry was threatening to curse a pine tree in the corner of the room and, apparently, the fairy lights were fighting back. She giggled.
Harry spun round, his face flushed with embarrassment. ‘It’s um… don’t worry, I’ll tidy up…’
Ginny shook her head and came over to stand beside him. The tree was lopsided and half the baubles were falling off. The tinsel had wound itself into knots and the angel on the top branch was clearly drunk.
‘It’s perfect,’ she whispered.
Harry put his arm around her shoulders. ‘Next year I’ll get Teddy to do it. I’m sure he’d make a better job.’
Ginny took a deep breath. Now was the moment.
‘You must be hungry,’ Harry cut in. ‘Sit down, I’ll get you something.’
While Harry disappeared into the kitchen, Ginny went over to her suitcase and extracted a large box wrapped in gaudy red and green paper.
‘Here.’ She took the plate of sandwiches he’d made and held the present out to him. ‘Happy Christmas, Harry.’
‘It’s not tomorrow yet.’ He held the box on his knee and looked at her, waiting for an explanation.
‘I don’t want you to wait for this one.’
Harry gave her a strange look but obediently began to pull at the paper. The box inside was almost as brightly coloured as the wrapping paper, patterned in blues and yellows with flashes of red. ‘Nimbus 2004!’, the label said. ‘All new features! With Stabilisers and Safety Harness! Charmed to keep your toddler at a safe height.’
‘Um, Ginny, are you sure this is for me? I already got a Firebolt for Teddy.’
‘It’s for you.’ Ginny watched his face, waiting for the penny to drop.
It was like seeing a Transfiguration in slow motion. The wrinkles of his confusion gradually flattened as his eyes widened in shock. His mouth opened but he was silent. Then the corners widened into a smile before finally, he lunged forward and kissed her, knocking her plate flying and sending crumbs everywhere.
‘I’m not giving up Quidditch,’ Ginny told him, between kisses.
‘Don’t want you to,’ Harry muttered.
‘And we’re not having a nanny,’ she gasped.
‘Certainly not.’ He’d managed to shift them both so that she was sitting on his lap now.
‘So you’ll have to stay at home and look after it.’
Harry stopped kissing her then and pulled away slightly so that she could see the grin. ‘I’ll send in my resignation tomorrow.’