Five Years Later: Harpy Versus Vulture (2/2)

[kanedax]

Harpy Versus Vulture (1/2) / Previous Chapters / One Cold Night In February (1/2)

Harry flew backwards, his glasses flying off his face as he slammed into his chair.  To his left, Ron did the same, and from farther down he heard a higher groan as Molly Weasley was also repulsed.

"Harry!" Dudley and Susan yelled at the same time.  Dudley grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him up, and Hermione did the same for Ron.  Susan picked up Harry's glasses from the ground and handed them to him after casting a Reparo on a broken lens.

"What was that?" Dudley asked Harry, who was shaking his head to clear the cobwebs.  "What did you do?"

"Anti-spell barriers," Arthur explained as he and Daniel both helped Molly to her feet.  "They put them around the pitch to make sure hooligan fans don't try to jinx the opponents."

"They used to set fire to the hoops," Hermione explained.  "It says so in Quidditch Through--"

"Ginny!" Harry yelled, remembering why he was knocked backward in the first place.

"She's fine," said Arthur.  "Gwen and the others threw Wingardiums at her at the same time that you three tried."

Fine's a relative term, Harry thought as he sat up to see his wife floating in mid-air, apparently unconscious as she was lowered to the grass below.  Gwenog Jones had her wand out and pointed at her, and Harry could see that every other member of the Holyhead Harpies had done the same.  Of the Vratsa Vultures, Vulchanov, Krum, and Dimova also had their wands out, but it appeared that Rangelov and Petrov were unaware of the proceedings, as Rangelov tossed the dropped Quaffle past a distracted Llewelyn and through the hoop.

"Time out!" Harry heard Jones shout through the stunned murmurs of the crowd.  "Ref, time out!"

The referee's whistle blew at the same time that Ginny touched down on the ground.  She sat up, much to Harry's relief, but he could see that she was clutching her arm to her chest.

"Why did she do that?" Ron asked desperately as the other Harpies landed around her and the team Healer rushed out onto the field.  "What the hell was she thinking?"

"Arthur, give me your glasses," Molly said, reaching her hand out.  Arthur had his Omnioculars to his eyes, and was twisting the dials to get a better view, but didn't seem to hear her.

"That shot would have knocked the wind out of her," said Ron to Harry and Hermione, "cracked a rib at most.  She could play with that.  Why did she put her arm in the way?  There's no way that it didn't break, you heard it."

"Arthur, the glasses!" Molly repeated, more firmly this time.

"In a moment, Molly..."

"If the Bludger made contact with the ribs or the stomach it would have distributed the impact," Hermione agreed with Ron.  "Putting the arm there, with the Quaffle..."

"Arthur, my little girl is down there with her arm broken, so give me the bloody glasses!"

Harry could more than empathize with Molly.  He was doing everything in his power not to rush out to the aisle and down to the field himself.  He watched Gwen and the Healer silently confer with Ginny, watched Ginny flinch as the Healer gently touched the injured arm.

“What happened to Aunt Ginny?” Caroline asked Daniel.

“She hurt her arm, love,” said Daniel. “But she’ll be fine.”

"I wish I could hear what they were saying," Harry muttered to whoever was listening.

"Use the subtitles," said Ron.

"What?"

"The subtitles," Ron repeated.  "On your Omnioculars."  He lifted the glasses from Harry's chest, pressed a button on its side, and handed it to Harry, who put it to his eyes.

He adjusted the focus and distance on his vision until he saw Ginny, Gwenog, and the Healer in the gap between Katie and Anwyn.

I can keep playing, words scribbled at the bottom of his view as Ginny's lips moved.

Potter, this is a bad break, the Healer replied.  I can't just cast a spell and heal this.

I've been through worse.

Ginny, this is compound fracture.  It needs to be set, and we might even need to get you some Skele-Gro before it can be put back to normal.

Fantastic, Ginny said. When the match is over we can get to it. Right now, bring me my broom.

Ginny, I can’t let you do that…

I’m conscious, Gwen, Ginny snapped. If I don’t fly, we have two Chasers.

We’ll have two Chasers even if you do fly. Ginny, how are you going to be able to balance on your broom?

I still have one good arm.

As soon as you throw the Quaffle you’ll fall off.

I have strong legs, ask Harry.

Harry saw Katie put her hand to her mouth in a chuckle, and blushed slightly as he heard laughter from others in the audience reading the same subtitles he was.

Ginny…

Gwen, if you don’t trust me with the Quaffle, fine. I can be a third Bludger, just let me fly around and slam into people. Ginny pulled herself to her feet, swaying on her feet. Connolly and Pritchard reached out to steady her as she clutched her arm. Ginny’s freckles stuck out even more as her face paled.

You have to let me do this, Jones. I can’t go out this way.

Harry could see the look of conflict on Gwenog’s face. She turned around to the referee. “Harrison!” he heard her yell, and the black and white striped wizard floated down to the squad.

Two minutes, Holyhead, Harrison warned.

Can she play with a splint?

Any extra equipment is forbidden without the consent of the opposing Captain.

“Krum!” Gwenog called, and Viktor Krum flew down beside the referee.

How are you, Ginny? Viktor’s subtitles asked in unaccented English.

Sunshine and lollipops, Krum. You?

She broke her arm, Jones explained quickly, realizing that the referee was studying his pocket watch. Will you give consent to let her wear a splint?

Of course, said Viktor. If you feel that she can continue…

One minute, the ref said. Gwen looked anxiously around the circle, before settling on the team Healer.

Do it, she said before turning back to Viktor. This is an exhibition, Krum. Go easy on her, there’s no reason for us to have to go all out.

I agree, said Krum, who flew back into the air to consult his team.

I don’t need to be fucking mollycoddled, Jones, Ginny growled as the Healer cast Ferula on Ginny’s broken arm.

You’ll appreciate it later, Gwenog snapped. This is going to hurt like a drewgi siffilitig. You know that, don’t you?

It already hurts like a droogy sfillig, Ginny said as Craig brought her broom. As she mounted it, she turned to Katie. Use my hairband to tie my hand down, Katie.

Ginny? Katie said uncertainly.

Tie my hand to the broom, Ginny explained. I don’t have any grip, but I’ll need my balance.

Keep your weight off it or it’ll hurt worse than before, the Healer said tersely as Katie Bell undid the ribbon around Ginny’s hair and wrapped it around the broomstick and Ginny’s wrist. I don’t want you whiting out again, especially with the broomstick attached this time.

I’ll be fine, said Ginny.

I’m washing my hands of this, the Healer said. If anything happens to you, just know that…

I’ll be fine, Ginny repeated, and launched into the air.

“And it appears that Ginny Potter is staying in the game!” Bob the play-by-play announcer yelled as fans on both sides of the pitch applauded. Harry turned his gaze away long enough to see that the rest of the Harpies were still on the grass. Gwenog circled them up, and Harry read her words subtitled.

Pritchard, Bell, I don’t want you tossing to her unless it’s an absolute necessity. One false move and she’s going to be in a world of hurt. If she wants to be a Bludger, let her be a Bludger.

Right, Pritchard responded, and Katie nodded her head. Gwenog turned to her Beaters.

I don’t think I have to tell you to watch out for her, right?

The Vultures know to back off, Connolly said. But the Bludgers don’t. Of course we’ll watch her.

Then that’s your job, Tab, Gwen said to Connolly. You keep the Bludgers off Weasel. Phoebe can handle Katie and Mali.

Yes, ma’am.

If anyone gets cute, make them regret it.

The Harpies nodded in agreement, re-mounted their broomsticks, and flew back into the air as the referee blew his whistle, resuming play.

“This is insane,” Molly said in a high voice. “What does she think she’s doing?”

“She’s as tough as they come,” said Harry. “If anyone can play through it, she can.” But despite his words, he still couldn’t hide the worry in his voice.

“Well, I guess that eliminates a trade,” said Dudley. “There’s no way they’d still be letting her back in, the other team would break it off knowing what’s happening to her.”

“Broken bones heal fast in the wizard world,” said Susan. “She’ll be fine in a few hours.”

“Yeah, but it’s the meantime that’s getting me nervous,” said Ron, who was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet as the Quaffle was flown back and forth along the pitch.

“If anything, this would probably make the Harpies push for more players,” said Arthur. “Resilience in a Quidditch player is a vital quality, since there aren’t any substitutions allowed in a match. If whoever trades for her knows that she’ll play through a broken arm, it’ll only enhance her value.”

“Or get her a bigger contract if she’s going free agent,” said Ron, elbowing Harry in the ribs. “You Potters are be getting richer by the minute, mate.”

Harry didn’t care about any big contracts. As he watched the Harpies take possession of the Quaffle and fly up the pitch, all he cared about was that Ginny seemed to be pushing herself every minute she was out there, and she was going through a lot of pain because of it. The Quaffle, despite Gwenog’s request, did reach her occasionally. When it did, she couldn’t sit up straight because of the arm tied to her broomstick. She tried it once or twice, but cried out and grimaced in pain each time. The first time, she bent herself down and lobbed a weak pass to Pritchard, who put it through the Vratsa hoops. The second time she sat up, she dropped the Quaffle completely. Petrov picked it up and threw it past Llewelyn for an easy goal.

Things started getting particularly ugly five minutes later. The Quaffle was thrown to Ginny. Tabitha Connolly, who had been hovering within five feet of Ginny since the match resumed, blasted a Bludger at Hristo Rangelov, who was approaching the pair to steal the Quaffle. He dodged the Bludger easily enough, but as soon as he made contact with Ginny, the whistle blew.

“Blatching!” Harrison yelled. “Blatching on Rangelov! Penalty for Holyhead!”

The Vultures supporters went ballistic. Their boos echoed through the stadium, and Harry could see a few of them tossing the wrappers from their pies onto the pitch.

“No way that was Blatching,” said Ron. “He barely touched her!”

“He’s giving her preferential treatment,” said Arthur. “Because of the injury. Vratsa’s not going to be too happy about that.”

The Vultures weren’t the only ones upset. Ginny flew over to the referee with a look that Harry recognized from when she was about five seconds away from blasting Ron in Peru.

“That was not Blatching, Harrison!” Harry could hear her yell.

“It was Blatching,” Harrison replied, handing her the Quaffle. “Your penalty, Chaser.”

Ginny glared at him before taking the Quaffle. “Call a fucking fair game, alright, ref?”

“And you’re getting a warning. Watch your tone, or you’re getting a technical. Your penalty, Chaser.”

Ginny half-heartedly set herself in front of the Vratsa goal, and weakly lobbed the Quaffle toward the hoops. Dimova lofted in front of it, catching it easily with both hands. Ginny turned around to glare at Harrison before resuming her position in the middle of the pitch.

This protest seemed to encourage the Vratsa supporters as well as the Holyheads. The Vultures, however, were still spurned by their missed opportunity. Within thirty seconds, the whistle blew again.

“Cobbing on Rangelov! Penalty for Holyhead!”

This time it was the Harpies fans that turned hostile.

“What’s Cobbing?” Daniel yelled through the surrounding jeers.

“Excessive use of elbows,” Hermione replied.

“And that’s different than Blatching?”

“Blatching’s flying with intent to collide.”

“What the hell, Hristo?” Gwenog yelled as Mali Pritchard, bleeding from a cut on her cheek, was handed the Quaffle for a penalty shot. “Ginny didn’t take her shot, everything’s even!”

“As long as Potter is in game, things vill not be even!” Rangelov replied.

Jones glanced over at Ginny. Harry could tell that part of her agreed with Rangelov, that Harrison was obviously giving her consideration for her injury.

“I’m not leaving the game, Gwen,” Ginny said. Her red hair, now untailed, hung limply around her face, which was looking even paler than when she was first injured.

“Dammit,” Jones growled, knowing that any decision she made would come out bad. “Krum, get your team under control. Harrison, call a square match or I’m protesting to the Ministry. Potter, stop talking back, or your time with this team’s going to be considerably shorter.”

Mali threw her penalty shot, which was stopped by Dimova. Two minutes later, the whistle blew again on Vratsa’s next possession as Phoebe Craig’s bat connected with Petrov’s broomstick, causing the Quaffle to come loose.

“Goddamn it!” Jones screamed. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Now we’re even,” Phoebe yelled to Petrov as his penalty shot was batted away by Llewelyn.

“This needs to be over now,” Arthur muttered. “Everyone’s falling apart.”

“Has there been any sign of the Snitch?” Ron asked as play resumed. Petrov and Gatchevski swerved past Bell and Pritchard to score an easy goal, making the score Vratsa one hundred twenty, Holyhead ninety.

“I don’t think so,” said Hermione. “I’ve barely seen Viktor move since the game started, and Gwen’s only been noticeable when she’s calling plays or screaming at the referee.”

Harry remained silent. In fact, he barely heard this conversation at all. He and Molly both were completely focused on the redhead painfully dodging through the Bludgers and Chasers, trying her best to keep the opposing team off guard, while all the while putting who knows how much extra strain on her injured arm in the process.

Therefore, he barely even knew what was happening until the crowd hushed. He looked up to see both Gwenog and Viktor come to attention, staring off into the far left corner of the pitch. Both bent down in unison and launched toward the spot.

“The Snitch!” the play-by-play announcer screamed. “Jones and Krum have found the Snitch!”

“It becomes a horse race now, Bob,” Nick the color analyst said as Jones and Krum zoomed around the pitch, meeting up and bumping shoulders as they followed the path of the Golden Snitch. “Vratsa’s up by thirty points, they have to do everything in their power to get two more Quaffles past Anwyn Llewelyn.”

“Remember, fans, that a Snitch catch during exhibition play only results in fifty points. If Krum gets to the Snitch first, Vratsa wins, unless the Harpies mount a huge comeback in the next few minutes. But two more goals by Vratsa makes a catch by Jones a tie game. Three more and that would put them in a terrific position, since a catch by Jones at that point would still secure a victory for the Vultures.”

“Two more goals by Vratsa would force Jones into a purely defensive position, Bob, and would give Viktor Krum a huge advantage. Unless Holyhead wants to end in a tie or a loss, Jones could not catch the… and Vratsa scores!”

“No!” Ron yelled as Rangelov threw a one-timer to Petrov, who did an open-handed volleyball serve past Llewelyn and into the left hoop. Vultures 130 Harpies 90, the board read.

“And the Vratsa supporters are practically beside themselves,” Nick said as the gray and yellow erupted on the other side of the pitch. “One more goal would put the Vultures fifty points up on the Harpies, who are, for all intents and purposes, playing one body short, with Ginny Potter barely able to stay on her broomstick.”

“Whoa! And I just lost my hat, Nick. Jones and Krum just flew past us here in the booth, and they are in hot pursuit of the Snitch.”

“They are both jockeying hard for position. Both are bullying the other, throwing elbows and knees and whatever, trying to gain an inch.”

“And Harrison, who was extremely whistle-happy just ten minutes ago, is not even paying them much mind.”

“Well, when you have two veterans like these, two strong, fair competitors, sometimes you just have to throw the rulebook away and let them do their work.”

“Here’s Harrison putting the Quaffle back into play. Gatchevski with the Quaffle; dodges past Bell. Spins to miss a bullet by Craig, passes it off to Rangelov. Rangelov back to Gatchevski, Gatchevski to Petrov, the pass nearly knocked away by Potter. Petrov to Gatchevski, Gatchevski in the scoring area, takes the shot, and a great save by Llewelyn!”

The Holyhead faithful were on their feet, and screamed louder as Anwyn knocked the Quaffle away.

“Come on, Gwen!” Hermione screamed. Daniel Granger was jumping up and down, with Teddy Lupin and Caroline Granger nothing more than a constant high-pitched squeal. Both Jones and Krum were flying one-handed; their others stretched constantly forward, the Snitch zooming along, no more than a foot from their fingertips. Neither was trying for the hard shot anymore; both were just constantly putting as much pressure on the other, trying to get the other to give just a little bit. Their outstretched hands slapped at each other as the Snitch grew ever closer.

“And the Quaffle goes to Pritchard. Pritchard takes it down the pitch, under constant pressure from the Vratsa Chasers. They’re not even giving her an inch to pass, let alone try to get it past Dimova.”

“Forty-three!” Mali Pritchard yelled, as Jones was too occupied with the Snitch to play Captain.

“Pritchard literally drops the Quaffle to Bell, who flies directly beneath her. Smart move by Pritchard, who couldn’t get it past any of her defenders. And it’s Bell with the Quaffle, who suddenly has a parade behind her, with Potter, Craig, Rangelov, the Snitch, Jones, and Krum, all almost on the same plane.”

“Twenty-six!” Pritchard yelled. Bell looked over to her and nodded.

“Bell flies above the others,” Bob yelled. “The Quaffle’s in both hands, she holds it up in the air, looks like she’s going to take a two-handed shot at the goal and here’s another Bludger by Volkov! The Quaffle’s loose, picked up by Rangelov, who gets it stolen away by Potter!”

“Call off Twenty-six!” Gwenog screamed.

“Twenty-six!” Ginny yelled and lifted the Quaffle over her head as best as she could. She threw her arm toward the goal but at the last second threw her entire body forward, spinning herself and her broomstick into a forward somersault. At the bottom of the spin she hung upside-down by only her interlocked knees and by the hair ribbon that was tying her broken arm to the broom.

Using her last ounce of strength along with the momentum from the spin, Ginny blasted the Quaffle away from the hoops and towards...

“And Ginny Potter just threw the Quaffle at Viktor Krum!” Bob screamed. “Krum’s broken off, and Gwenog Jones has the Snitch! Holyhead wins!”

The audience sat in stunned silence and then, as one, roared louder than they had at any time during the match. Gwenog Jones held the Snitch aloft, and the roar grew even louder.

“Potter just executed a perfect Schneeberg Spin,” Nick explained. “She made like she was going for the goal, and then did a one-eighty that Krum bit hook, line, and sinker. He took the Quaffle right in the face, and he is just floating there, absolutely stunned right now.”

“And Ginny Potter, who pulled off the remarkable play to give her team the victory, has touched down on the grass. The Healers for both teams are heading her way, and she looks to be in a lot of pain.”

“Oh, my God,” Susan moaned through her hands, which were cupped to her face in shock. As soon as she landed, Ginny dropped to her knees. Her wrist was still tied to the broomstick, which was trapped beneath her, so she had to lean forward, her hair pooled on the grass, her nose pressed against the handle, to keep the fractured forearm from dangling free.

“Get out of my way,” Molly ordered, shoving her way past Arthur, Hermione, and Ron. She didn’t have to worry about Dudley or Susan, because they had already been pushed back by Harry, who was already working his way down through the celebrating crowd.

“Harry, Molly, calm down!” Arthur yelled to them. “She’s going to be fine.”

“I have to get to her,” said Molly, and the same words could be read on Harry’s face as the group walked through the echoing chamber below the stadium.

“The healers are doing their work,” Arthur said to them. “Ginny’s not going to be any better or any worse if you’re there five minutes later. Honestly, you knocked over five people on your way down here.”

Harry lead the way, with Molly no more than two steps behind him. Arthur was behind them, with Ron and Hermione walking side by side in his wake. They weren’t showing the obvious worry that both Ginny’s mother and husband were showing, but they still held each other’s hands in comfort. Daniel Granger, Dudley Dursley, and Susan Bones came up the rear, Daniel holding Caroline while Teddy was holding Susan’s hand.

“Can I still get a Smitch?” Teddy asked Susan.

“In a little bit, Teddy,” Susan replied. “We’re going to visit Ginny first.”

“Does she have an owwie?”

“She does, but she’ll be fine.”

“Use your wand,” said Teddy. “That’s what Gran does when I get an owwie.”

“I’m sure they’ll use a wand, Teddy,” said Dudley.

“Can I get a Snitch, too, Daddy?” asked Caroline.

“I don’t think you can have one, love,” said Daniel. “It’s probably too magical, we wouldn’t be able to let it loose.”

Caroline stuck her lip out, but she was old enough to know that she had been denied many things that Teddy had for same this reason in the past, and there was no changing her father’s mind.

“We could get a Quaffle, though,” Daniel said, and Hermione turned around and nodded. “Do you want a Quaffle? It’s bigger than a Snitch, and we can play catch with it.”

“Okay!”

Ron leaned into Hermione and whispered in her ear, “Are we allowed to get her a Snitch for Christmas? We could keep it at our place for when she comes to visit.”

“That might work,” she whispered back, “But we’ll talk about it later.”

Reporters for the Quibbler and BBC Wiz, along with various other media outlets around the continent, swarmed the doorway leading into the Holyhead locker room. As they saw the group approach, saw the scar on Harry’s forehead, they immediately turned switched their attention.

“Mr. Potter! Mr. Potter!”

“Harry, can you tell us why Ginny’s quitting the team? Did you request for her to leave?”

“Mr. Potter, can you answer the rumors of a falling out between Gwenog Jones and your wife?”

“Herr Potter,” a portly man with a walrus mustache said, holding his hand out. “Wolfgang Blitzen, Tagliches Orikel. Ve vere vondering if you might give us an exclusive interview about your battle mit Der Schwarze Zauberer.”

“I’m not giving interviews, thank you,” Harry said quickly, pushing his way through the throng. “Now if you’ll excuse me…”

“Hello, luv,” a voice came steaming out of the crowd. Harry froze in his tracks. Oh, God, no…

“Skeeter, what are you doing here?”

“I’m a sports fan,” said Rita Skeeter, Quick Quill poised beside her. “And I’m still waiting for that interview with Lancelot and his Guinevere.”

“You’ll be waiting a long time for that, Rita,” said Harry. “Talk to the German guy, I already gave him your answer.”

“Chipper, as always,” Rita said with a sneer. “Ah, well, I’ll get it out of you eventually, Harry. I always do.” She turned to Ron and Hermione. “How about Galahad and… umm… Miss Morgan le Fay here?”

Ron stepped forward. “Don’t you call her that!”

“I can call her whatever I want, dear,” said Rita. “Artistic license, you know.”

“Lovely,” said Hermione. “Have you spoken to Rolf Scamander yet?”

“Who’s that?”

“He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures,” Hermione explained. “Beast Division. He’s the wizard in charge of animagus registration. He might be an interesting interview. If you’d like, I could send him by your place some day, maybe with a few very nice Aurors? I think they’d be very interested in talking to you, too.”

The smirk on Rita’s face vanished, and her Quill stopped in mid-air. “No,” she said. “No, I don’t think I’ll be needing to interview him.”

“Are you sure?” said Hermione. “Pity. Oh, well. Keep up the good work, Rita. I’d be more than happy to tell any of these fine reporters how much you just love to ‘bug’ us for information.” She raised her hand and gave Rita a girlish wave. “Toodles!”

Harry looked at Rita, shrugged, and walked through the door, his family stepping into the locker room entranceway behind him. He closed the door on the reporters, who were warily eyeing a stunned Rita Skeeter.

“God, I love you,” Ron said to Hermione. “You’re so wicked sometimes.”

“I held back,” she said as he kissed her on the forehead. “I really wanted to just blare the truth.”

“Ah, it’s fun to see her squirm, though.”

“Thanks for sticking up for me out there, too.”

“Why would I do anything different?” said Ron. “She called you a… a…”

“You don’t know who Morgan le Fay is, do you?” said Hermione with an arched eyebrow.

“I thought some kind of buttered rum.”

“Close enough,” Hermione said, and kissed him on the lips.

“Bloody hell, Harry,” said Dudley quietly as they walked through the locker room, keeping the swear words out of the earshot of the children. “I thought you were being overdramatic when you told us about the publicity.”

“Sucks, doesn’t it?” said Harry, finding Phoebe Craig putting her gear into her travel bag. “Where’s Ginny?”

“Oh, hey, Harry,” said Phoebe. “She’s in the Healer’s room, last door down.”

“Thanks,” Harry replied, and the procession continued.

“Sucks balls,” Dudley muttered, taking another glance toward the front entrance, where another outburst from the reporters could be heard.

At last, they reached the Healer’s room. The door was closed with the curtain drawn. Harry knocked on the door.

“No media yet!” he heard Gwenog yell from inside.

“It’s not the media,” Harry replied. “It’s me and Ginny’s family!”

He heard the click of the lock, and Gwenog opened the door. She looked over the group of ten men, women, and children crowded around the door, and then glanced back into the room.

“Don’t know if we can fit all of you in here,” she said.

“Those reporters are volves,” came a dark voice from behind them. They turned to see Viktor Krum walking through the locker room. The area under his cheeks was purple, and there was a bandage across the bridge of his nose.

“Well, now we definitely can’t fit you all in here.”

“Do you know that the Skeeter voman is vith them?” Krum asked Harry. “The horrible von from the Tournament?”

“She is?” Gwenog sighed. “Bloody hell…”

“I did not know that she vos a sports reporter.”

“She probably has been since the press release came out about Weasel,” said Gwenog. “Dammit, I told the owners to keep it quiet, but nooo…”

“Skeeter’s not going to be an issue,” said Hermione. “We have her by the short hairs; she’ll keep her distance.”

“How many can come in?” Harry asked. Gwenog turned around and repeated the question to the Healer.

“Five,” came a voice from inside. “Six at the most after we’re out of here.”

“Are you going somewhere?” asked Harry.

“You all need to talk,” said Gwenog. “We don’t want to get in the way.”

“We’ll stay out here,” said Susan.

“Just so long as we don’t have to go back out with the reporters any time soon,” said Dudley.

Gwenog shook her head wearily. “I suppose I’d better talk to them,” she said. “I can at least send them away until tomorrow.”

“You all go ahead,” said Daniel. “Caroline and I can stick it out here. Maybe get some autographs.”

“You caught the Snitch!” Caroline said to Gwenog.

“That’s right,” Jones replied, trying her best to brighten her voice for the little girl. “Would you like to see it?” Caroline nodded her head vigorously.

“Teddy?” said Susan. “Do you want to see the Snitch, too?”

“I want to see Ginny…” Teddy said, his hair now a dark blue.

“You all can come in,” said Gwenog as Teddy grabbed Harry’s hand.

“I vill not come in,” said Viktor, putting his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Tell your vife that she made a brilliant move. She von the match fairly, and I am not upset.”

“Are you going to be alright?” asked Harry, pointing to Viktor’s face.

“It is just a broken nose,” Viktor shrugged. “Our Healer vill deal vit it ven I get back our lockers.”

Harry nodded, patted Viktor on the shoulder, and walked Teddy into the room. Ron, Hermione, Arthur, and Molly followed close behind and closed the door behind them. It was a small room, cement with white paint. Katie Bell sat on one of three beds, stripped to a sports bra and jogging pants. Her midsection was wrapped in a large bandage that appeared to be painted with some kind of purple potion. On the other bed…

“Ginny!” Teddy yelled, breaking away from Harry and running to his godmother. She was sitting up on the bed, with the Healer next to her. One sleeve of her robe was cut away, and Harry could see that her arm below the elbow was a bruised and bloodied mess.

“Hey, sweetie,” Ginny said as Teddy climbed up onto the bed. She wrapped her uninjured arm around him, making sure that he kept away from her other side, and kissed him on the cheek. “Ginny’s hurt, so go easy, okay?”

“You have an owwie,” Teddy said in a hushed tone, looking at her arm, as Molly rushed up and wrapped her arms around Ginny.

“Mum, Mum, ow,” said Ginny.

“Sorry, dear,” said Molly, wiping her eyes. “I just…” She broke off, and reached out to touch Ginny’s cheek.

“Yeah, I have a big owwie,” Ginny said to Teddy and Molly both. “But I’ll be just fine.”

“Can you take one of these?” asked Harry, walking up to kiss her.

Ginny gladly reciprocated. “Yes,” she said as he broke away. “Yes, I think I can accept kisses without pain.”

“How are you feeling, Katie?” Hermione asked Katie Bell, who shrugged, flinching when she did so.

“Volkov used me as his punching bag,” she said. “I’m just one big blue lump under these potions.”

“How bad is the owwie?” Arthur asked the Healer, pointing at Ginny’s arm.

“And who are you?”

“I’m her father.”

“It’s bad,” she replied. “It was bad enough before she got back on the broom. And it’s worse now. The bone actually punctured skin a few times, and God knows how much extra strain she put on it when she pulled that stupid move at the end of the match.”

“Merlin’s pants,” Ron breathed. “Ginny, you’re a bloody warrior.”

“It was nothing,” Ginny said, finding enough blood to blush under her brother’s compliment. “I was just helping the team win.”

“Well, your help is going to land you in St. Mungo’s for the night,” the Healer said sternly. “I can only patch you up so much, but the way that this bone’s looking… they might just need to remove it completely and give you an evening with the Skele-Gro.”

“Oh, bloody Hell,” Ginny groaned.

“I’m the last person you should be complaining to, Potter,” said the Healer. “I told you that you shouldn’t keep going. I told you I wash my hands of this completely. Anything that St. Mungo’s does to Heal you, no matter how painful, is none of my concern. Be lucky I’m giving you this much attention, and be thankful that your arm didn’t tear off completely.”

“It’s appreciated, Kelly.”

“Well, I’ve done all I can,” the Healer, Kelly, said, standing up. “I’ll Floo the hospital, make sure they get a room ready for you.”

“Thanks,” said Ginny as Kelly left the room, closing the door behind her.

“Do you want me to leave, Ginny?” Katie asked. “I think the potion’s soaked in enough where I can toss a sweatshirt on over this and get out of here.”

“It’s up to you,” Ginny said as Teddy settled on her lap.

“Okay, can I say it first?” said Ron, raising his hand. “Ginny, that was the best Quidditch match I’ve ever seen.”

“What were you thinking, though?” Harry said, his eyes darting between Ginny’s face and her broken arm. “I mean, to put your arm in the way like that…”

“I know, it was stupid,” said Ginny.

“Stupid, nothing,” said Ron with a broad grin on his face. “It was the most brainless thing you’ve ever done, and you’re going to go down in Quidditch history for it! You couldn’t have scripted it any better.”

“Yeah,” Ginny sighed. “I needed to do what I could for my last match. I didn’t really care about the consequences.”

“What’s all of this talk about your last match?” asked Arthur. “What happened? Are they trading you? Letting you go?”

“No, no, it’s not that at all,” Ginny said. “I love it here, and they love me. It’s just that I’ll be too far along by the time next season starts. I won’t be able to play.”

“Too far along with what?” Ron asked. “Are you going somewhere? Are you sick?”

But Hermione had her hand over her mouth, and her eyes were wide. “Ginny,” she breathed. “You… you…”

Ginny nodded, blushing. “I, I,” she said with a small smile.

“You’re what?” Ron asked.

Ginny looked Harry in the eyes.

“Harry, I’m pregnant.”

Harry stared back at her, his brain not computing what he just heard.

“You’re what?”

“I’m pregnant,” she repeated. “We’re going to have a baby.”

Molly and Hermione both screamed in joy at the same time, and Arthur collapsed into the nearest chair. Ron’s mouth just dropped open.

Harry stared blankly at her. “But… but how…?”

“You know how,” Ginny smirked. “But I’m not going to tell you in front of Teddy or my parents.”

“I mean…” Harry babbled. “Your… your period… Didn’t you just have one? You didn’t miss it, did you?”

“Harry, don’t be such a Muggle,” Hermione said with a broad grin. “Magical pregnancy tests can be done hours after conception.”

“It’s only been a few weeks,” said Ginny. “I just found out about it before the match. The Healers run weekly diagnostic spells on all of the players, to make sure we’re not sick or jinxed or anything. It’s standard practice for every team in the League. And… well…”

“So when you threw your arm in front of the Bludger…” Ron said, finally able to find his tongue.

“Like I said, it was stupid,” Ginny replied, glancing down at her broken arm. “They had given me a little extra padding for my stomach after I convinced them to not replace me with a reserve.”

“We tried, Harry, seriously,” said Katie. “You should have seen Gwen, she was extremely protective of her Weasel. When we caught Ginny after she fell of her broom, I think we were all thinking ‘Don’t let the pregnant girl hit the ground!’”

“If I had been any further along they probably wouldn’t have let me play at all,” Ginny continued. “But, like I said, it was instinct. I had a feeling that a Bludger to the stomach probably wouldn’t be the best thing for someone in my position, padding or not. So I put my arm in front of it.”

“It was stupid…” Harry agreed, but just barely.

“The arm will heal,” said Ginny. “But I honestly don’t know how far along a woman has to be before they can have a miscarriage. I wasn’t planning on finding out.”

“You’re going to be a Mummy?” Teddy asked Ginny.

“That’s right, Teddy,” Ginny said. “I’m going to be a Mummy.”

“Is it a boy?”

“I don’t know,” said Ginny. “We’ll find out in nine months.”

“We have to wait that long?”

Harry’s lip twitched. “We’re pregnant...”

Ginny looked at him with an arched eyebrow. “Well, I’m pregnant, but yes…”

“We’re going to have a baby…”

She smiled. “Yes, we are.”

The words hit home. Harry’s face broke into a huge smile. “Oh, my God, we’re going to have a baby!”

Ginny’s grin matched, if not exceeded, his own. He put his hand on her cheek and looked her up and down.

“God, I want to hug you right now, but I can’t,” he said, chuckling through the tears.

“Hermione!” Ginny said. “Hug my man for me, would you?”

Hermione Weasley didn’t hesitate, and threw herself at Harry, who spun her around, laughing.

“Congratulations,” she said, and Ron came behind her and hugged Harry himself.

“Teddy, hug my girl for me,” Harry said after Ron let go. Teddy wrapped his arms around Ginny’s neck, and Ginny squeezed him with her good arm. Molly and Arthur stood off to the side, Arthur still seated, his hand holding Molly’s, their faces shining.

Harry bent down to kiss Ginny like he did when they were in her bedroom on his seventeenth. He didn’t even care who was watching this time. If he couldn’t hug her…

“I love you,” said Harry.

“I love you,” Ginny replied. “And I’m expecting plenty of attention after I get out of St. Mungo’s.”

“I’ll be there when you go to sleep,” he said. “And I’ll be there when you wake up.”

“See?” said Ginny, kissing him again. “I knew I picked the right guy.”

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