Quaffles and Broken Hearts

"Homenum Revelio."

Ginny waited for a moment. After walking in on Oliver Wood and Katie Bell in a very compromising situation last year, Ginny knew that she could never be too careful entering the Quidditch locker rooms when she thought no one else would be around.

Satisfied that the area was as deserted as it appeared, Ginny replaced her wand to her pocket and quickly entered the room. It didn't take long for her to change into her Quidditch attire, grab her broom and a Quaffle that was charmed to always come back to her after it was thrown that she had hidden away for just such an occasion, and then reemerge onto the pitch.

It was early in the morning, the sun just peaking up over the horizon, fighting its way through the thick cloud cover left over from the heavy rain they had overnight. There was a thin layer of mist still clinging to the grass, making everything appear more grey than usual, giving the area a very grim atmosphere. Ginny thought that to be very fitting that morning.

The air was cool against her skin, almost cold with the remnants of winter. She had woken that morning from a nightmare – flashes of a diary and a giant snake… and Harry Potter dying as he told her to run – but with the bite of the cool air she could already feel the fog lifting from her brain. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, taking in the comfortingly familiar scents of the pitch.

"You're up early today, Miss Weasley."

Ginny only spared the approaching ghost half a glance. "I didn't sleep well, Edgar," she informed him. "Thought I'd come out and clear my head."

Edgar Cloggs, a Hogwarts ghost who rarely left the Quidditch pitch, was well acquainted with Ginny's rather unorthodox practice schedule.

"Would you like some company?" Edgar asked. "I could help you run some drills if you'd like. Although it's not like you need it when you're going up against Chasers such as the likes of Vaisey and not to mention Urquhart on the Slytherin team. How do you think he manages to stay on his broom with a head his size?"

Ginny couldn't help but chuckle lightly at that.

"No, thanks," she said, tossing the ghost a small but appreciative smile that she knew didn't quite match the dull look in her eyes. Even after all these years, her nightmares of her first year at Hogwarts still took a lot out of her. "I just need some time to myself, I think."

Edgar nodded, understanding as always. "Do let me know if you change your mind, Miss Weasley. You know where to find me."

"I will, thank you, Edgar," Ginny said sincerely.

As Edgar made his retreat, drifting back toward the stands, Ginny mounted her broom, tucking her Quaffle securely under her arm. Then she kicked off hard, rocketing up into the air, reveling in the way that the wind whipped through her loose hair.

She didn't stop at her usual height with the perfect vantage point to work on shooting the Quaffle through the hoops. Instead she kept heading up… and up… and up. By the time she finally evened out her broom and settled into a comfortable hover, she was up higher than even the tallest of the Hogwarts towers.

As she hovered there for a moment, just taking in the world from this new perspective, she spotted an Augurey flying just below and to the right of her, heading back to the Forbidden Forest after a night of hunting in the heavy rain. She could see water droplets still flinging off of its feathers with every sweep of its wings. It was a rare sight and Ginny was momentarily memorized by the thin bird, with its greenish black coloring and a sharp beak. As it passed, the bird looked up at her, seeming startled at seeing her as it suddenly veered away. But just in that split second, Ginny made eye contact with the creature, its large eyes appearing mournful, as if it had just suffered some terrible loss.

Even though she knew that was the way Augurey always appeared, something about the look tugged at Ginny's heartstrings.

Her gazed wandered over to take in her school. From up here it suddenly looked much less intimidating. She enjoyed this vantage point. Ever since her disastrous first year at the school, the castle always had appeared very menacing to her. And with Fred and George no longer around, the brothers that she tended to feel closest to, there seemed to be an emptiness in the halls that she just couldn't seem to shake.

No matter how she tried spending her time with someone else…

Shaking off the thought, Ginny turned so that her back was to the castle. She didn't come up here to think. She came up here to chase away all the thoughts that threatened to overwhelm her.

She dove back down, swerving sharply in order to race down the pitch, pulling up at the last second to shoot the Quaffle through the middle hoop. It sailed through easily, and just as it began to lose altitude the charm kicked in and the ball lazily started to curve back around, gaining speed until she reached out and caught it.

She quickly fell into a routine, taking increasingly difficult shots. This went on until her arms burned with effort and sweat clung to her brow. As the Quaffle came back to her one last time, she looked up and around, trying to get her bearings as if she were coming out of a trance. The sun had come up, burning away the clouds and the mist, making the day appear much more cheerful than it had when she had first come out.

If only Ginny could say that she felt the same.

She looked down and sighed. There was a lone figure sitting at the top of the stands. She really should have expected it.

For just a moment she contemplated flying off. But she knew she had been avoiding this for far too long. It had to be dealt with at some point… she supposed now was as good a time as any.

She angled her broom down toward the stands, flying easily toward the figure. As she approached, in a well-practiced move she easily slid off the handle with she was still a few feet above solid ground, dropping down into the stands as she pulled her broom down with her.

"You look good up there, Gin," Dean said with a small smile.

"How long have you been out here?" Ginny asked as she settled down on the bench next to him, though she was mindful to keep a generous amount of space between them.

"Not long," Dean told her. "Maybe twenty minutes or so." He paused. "Eloise Midgen said you weren't there when she woke up this morning. I figured you'd be out here." Ginny nodded, not really knowing what to say to that. "You've been out here practicing a lot lately," he went on after an awkward minute of silence.

"Well, if I do well the next couple seasons, I figure I might be able to get a scholarship to a good Quidditch camp," she said almost automatically.

"Scholarship, scholarship, scholarship; that's all you ever talk about," Dean said with a sigh.

"Well… it's important to me," Ginny said, not looking at him.

"Kind of like I used to be," Dean said flatly.

Ginny didn't bother to deny it.

They both knew that this wasn't working. It hadn't been working for a while now. But for some reason they had let it get to this point. The point where neither of them had the energy to fight for the other anymore.

"So," Dean finally said resignedly. "Is this where we say we've had a good run? Call it a forfeit? You know, because everything's got to be in Quidditch terms with you, right?"

Anger roiled up in Ginny and she squeezed her eyes closed, willing herself not to go off on him. She had spent too many emotions on this already. Dean had no idea that Quidditch was more than just a game to her. This was her escape. This was where her mind was quieted and she was presented with a goal that she could accomplish. Where all the rules were clear and everything made sense.

She had tried to explain this to him on several occasions, but he had remained thickly set on the idea that Quidditch was more important than him.

And perhaps it was. Because these days it wasn't uncommon for him to be the one she felt the need to escape from during these early morning practices.

"I just… can't do this anymore," she finally admitted. Even though this was a long time coming, the words still tasted bitter in her mouth.

"I figured," Dean said with a shrug. He was trying to seem nonchalant, like he didn't care one way or the other, but she could hear the hurt in his tone, read the tension in his shoulders.

"I'm sorry," she finally said, though she wasn't quite sure what she was apologizing for.

Dean nodded vaguely. Then he stood up, turned his back to her, and walked away. He didn't offer her any comfort for the tears gathering in her eyes. Didn't bother to offer up his own apologies or admissions of any kind of fault. He simply walked away. And just like that, her boyfriend was no longer her boyfriend.

As he disappeared down the stands, Ginny let out a grunt of frustration as she chucked the Quaffle still in her hands as hard as she could. Of course, after a moment the damn thing circled back to her, forcing her to reach up and catch it before it hit her in the face. Tears were now streaming down her face steadily. Even though their relationship had been going downhill for several weeks, it still hurt to have things ended so suddenly and so coldly.

Her brain was practically screaming at her about how trivial this was with everything going on in the world right now. But to a broken hearted teenaged girl, for that moment, nothing else seemed to matter.

The End


Grand Battle Prompts

Dialogue Prompts:

"How do you think he manages to stay on his broom with a head his size?" (4)

"Scholarship, scholarship, scholarship; that's all you ever talk about!" (3)

Word Prompts:

Forfeit (1)

Attire (1)

Clouds (1)

Grim (1)

Character Prompts:

Dean Thomas (2)

Edgar Cloggs (5)

Pairing Prompts:

Dean Thomas/ Ginny Weasley (5)

Oliver Wood/ Katie Bell (2)

Spell Prompts:

Homenum Revelio (5)

Creature prompts:

Augery (4)

Total Points: 34