Background Music
By Concretya
AKA, Cretey does Harry/Ginny fluff. I wrote this quite a while before posting it, so yeah. I intended to go back and do revisions, but, well, I'm not going to. Why? Because I don't even like fluff unless it's with unusual pairings. I do like Harry/Ginny- even more now that Harry is on his high horse thinking Ginny needs to be protected. Ok. Done now. Story.
Ginny Weasley was tired. She felt as though she had been running for days without sleep of any kind; and, the fact was, she wasn't thinking clearly enough to remember if this was true or not. Her eyes had been barely open when she outfitted herself that morning, and her mirror was already informing her that she looked dreadful.
"Dear!" it said, aghast. "Surely you don't intend to leave the house in that?"
Ginny blinked blearily at the talking piece of metal and glass.
"Your shirt rather clashes with your sweater, darling! And the shirt alone… well. Fine thing when a true Gryffindor like yourself goes to parade around school in a Ravenclaw-colored shirt! What will your housemates say?"
Ginny couldn't remember where she had even acquired the turtleneck, with its light blue color and horrendously ugly silver stripes. But when she rummaged in her drawer that morning, it had been the only thing neatly folded up; she figured it was the only garment likely to be clean. "At least it's not Slytherin?" she said.
"Tch! It amounts to the same thing, dear! And if you intended to cover it up with that despicable sweater, well, I think you should have stuck with the lesser of two evils!"
"It's cold out! Not that you would know, as you're just a sheet stuck on a wall," Ginny said snidely.
"But the red and… brown," it said as these were the most distasteful colors ever, "hardly match the blue! In fact, it looks positively ghastly!"
"Fine!" Ginny snapped, and threw the hairbrush she was holding at the mirror. "I'll leave and spare your nonexistent eyes." She slipped into her sneakers without bothering to tie them and almost made it out of the room before she caught the mirror's parting shot:
"That hair is not properly brushed yet, miss! And looking as if you slept with rats in your hair will never be fashionable, no matter how hard you try!"
Bloody hell! Ginny thought. If you're so fashionable, find someone to give you to Fleur!
Molly Weasley was the only one still at home, sitting at the kitchen table, unusually self-content. She looked up from her magazine as her daughter entered the room, and frowned at the girl's appearance. The whole family was so worn out these days, and yet the children still insisted on useless fun.
"Where's everyone else?" Ginny asked, helping herself to the last half a pancake on a plate by the sink.
"The boys and Hermione already left, and your father is at work. Are you sure you're feeling up to this, dear?"
"Yes, mum," Ginny responded, monotone.
"Are you sure it's quite safe? It seems like such a risk!"
"Mum, the teachers will still be up in the school. The grounds are still safer than we are here. Besides, Tonks'll be there."
"I assume that Remus knows what you all are up to, then?"
"Almost definitely," Ginny said, although she had doubts. "Can I go now, before Ron gets impatient?"
Mrs. Weasley heaved a long-suffering sigh, which Ginny took to mean 'yes.' She bolted out the door, already feeling more awake.
She quickly decided that her newfound alertness was, in fact, just shock from the cold and wind right outside the door. Her legs in thin Muggle jeans felt as though they instantly frosted over, and she was very glad she had ignored that imbecile of a mirror and worn the sweatshirt as well as the turtleneck. The mirror was right about one thing, however: her hair was disgusting. She ran her numb hands through it over and over again, trying to get out the tangles, and still only succeeding in making the straggling chunks twice as ratty. Well, hopefully they would start the game right away, and then she could blame it on speed.
Ginny made her way over to the shed first, where she grabbed her tattered old broomstick, and then turned towards the woods. Although her mother expected Ron to be waiting for Ginny, to apparate with her, Ginny was well past that stage. A few months ago Mundungus Fletcher had used his special skills to acquire a verified apparition license for her, and the ministry could no longer detect her comings and goings. While the idea that any number of these illicit licenses could be out on the market was chilling, Ginny prudently decided that the benefits outweighed the risks. She seemed to be making that decision a lot lately, and her answer was always the same.
And she had additional protection that nobody but she, Harry, Ron, and Hermione knew about. When she had traipsed a fair ways from the Burrow, she veered sharply over into a small grove of trees. Hanging from a branch was a shimmering mass of grey fabric. Ginny hurriedly snatched up and draped it over herself and her broom. Under the protection of Harry's invisibility cloak, she efficiently disapparated.
The first thing she saw when she reappeared was Ron leaning over to whisper to Hermione. Her brother was very, very close to Hermione's face, and Ginny whipped off the cloak before Ron did something to embarrass both of them.
"Um," said Ron.
"Hi," said Hermione. "Harry's inside organizing everything; we wanted to wait for you out here. Ready?"
"Yup," Ginny said, swinging a leg over her broom. Ron and Hermione both did the same, and the three kicked off to fly over the gates. They skimmed close to the ground as they raced across the campus, and landed in the center of the Quidditch pitch next to Harry and a circle of their classmates.
And then as Ginny looked around at the familiar faces, she felt an odd sensation. Somehow this meeting was exactly what she expected, even before she had realized it; but at the same time it was different. Arrayed around her were many classmates and schoolmates, and people whose faces and names she knew but to whom she had never spoken. As well as Ron and Harry were Fred and George and Lee Jordan, and Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell. Seamus Finnegan was there, and even Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown (neither, of course, looked ready to do any actual flying.) Neville was there, and Colin. Dean Thomas gave her a cursory glance; they hadn't parted on bad terms.
Zacharias Smith, however, raised his eyebrows at her. "Nice outfit," he said, not quite managing to sound complimentary. Even as Ginny gave him the evil eye, Hannah Abbot overrode him with a completely innocent "Glad you're here, Ginny." Facing the Gryffindors, with an air of friendly aggression, were the Hufflepuffs. Unlike the Gryffindor side, where she knew everyone to some degree, there were quite a number of older students Ginny recognized. The Quidditch team was there, and all those from Harry's year; even a few from Ginny's. She even recognized one girl who must have been in Cedric's year at least.
Of course they would be the ones to come, Ginny thought instinctively, Cedric Diggory would be the type to- and then she remembered about Cedric. And really, she couldn't picture the Ravenclaws out on a quasi-illegal, barely organized, completely pointless Quidditch game in the middle of the winter in a nonexistent school year.
And Harry and Cho wouldn't want to run into each other, anyway. One of them would have nixed it for their end.
Initiating contact with the Slytherins was just laughable on so many levels, really.
Tonks was there in the center of things, hair long for once and tied up in a ponytail. "I suppose you want me for my refereeing skills, too, not just in the capacity of resident Auror to reassure parents, right?"
"What house were you in?" Ernie Macmillan asked.
"Does it matter?" Hermione asked sharply. "I think we all trust her to be impartial! And this is supposed to be unifying, anyway."
For a moment Ginny could have sworn she heard Seamus mutter "Really? That's news to me."
"I was just wondering," Ernie said.
"Not telling," Tonks replied decisively. "You kids better hurry up and decide teams, or we'll only have time for one game."
As it turned out, they had time for two different games; and slight changes were made in the teams. Seamus was tired after the first game, and others wanted a chance to play; Lavender and Parvati, as Ginny had suspected, only watched and cheered. Ginny was slightly disappointed that she and Harry weren't in the same game, but he had withdrawn as seeker to give her a chance.
She swore, quite vocally, that the Gryffindors had absolutely trounced the Hufflepuffs, even taking into account the fact that some of the more experienced players weren't wasting all their energy on the game and they had horrible ones like Colin and Neville, too. The Hufflepuffs stoutly insisted that they were the ones being generous, and the scores were still close. Ginny almost began arguing with a boy in her year, but the squabbling turned into friendly banter just in time.
And then Ginny suddenly felt slightly overwhelmed. Hermione was talking to Susan Bones, with Ron waiting by her shoulder looking impatient; some of the oldest and youngest players were already departing. She climbed up and up on the bleachers, finally settling on the top row. She watched with mild interest as Harry Potter detached himself from the crowd and began the ascent towards her.
"You flew well today," he said without preamble.
"Thanks," she responded. "So did you."
"Thanks."
"That's just a guess, though. I wasn't watching you at all. It was rather more interesting to see Katie Bell and Neville trying to work as a pair."
He grinned ruefully. "Yeah, we did have some unorthodox experiments."
And you still won't try anything new with your personal life, Ginny thought uncharitably, and a huge frustration that had been looming in the back of her mind whenever she looked at the boy who lived, a frustration that lead to anger at the person she otherwise loved, finally surfaced.
"You're stupid, Harry Potter."
"What?" Harry said, taken aback.
"This whole abstaining from a relationship for my safety thing won't work. You're stupid if you think it will."
"I-"
"No, don't say anything. Nobody needs to say anything. There's something in particular I've been meaning to tell you, but there was never a good time."
"So… uhm… do you mean that now is?" Harry said, apprehensively.
"No, it's not, and there never will be. So I'm not going to say anything."
"But why'd you bring it up…"
"Just shut up, Harry, and I'm going to show you."
And suddenly all her tired, grated feelings seemed to vanish, and there in wide open- though nobody would be looking this way, anyway- she leaned forwards and kissed him. She was surprised that he reciprocated right away with no hesitation; but then, that first time had seemed so natural, too.
They broke it off when they saw commotion on the field in their peripheral vision, and upon closer examination, both independently decided that they needed to make themselves present.
"Harry. Ginny." Remus Lupin acknowledged them with a nod when they finished their dash down the bleachers. "Of course you two would be here."
"Didn't he know?" Harry asked Tonks, preparing himself for a guilt-inducing yet completely truthful lecture from his parents' old friend.
"No."
Harry wavered, unsure whether to start defending himself, or accept what he had known all along. This was dangerous, and though nothing had happened and it had come off brilliantly, it was mainly luck. For a brief moment he thought it cowardly of himself, to consider apologizing when everyone else on the field was confident they had accomplished something and made the right choice; but they had never had to face the same kind of guilt as he before. It wasn't like they were speaking up, anyway.
But what was wrong with it, after all? They were safe here, and they were having fun, and surely even the adults would realize that something important had been done here? Just because his generation, he himself, had organized it, didn't mean it was inherently more dangerous or stupid than any other actions…
"I doubt Molly Weasley would let Ginny out without a reason," Lupin said suddenly, staring directly at Harry, "so I assume she knows about this?" Tonks, standing behind his shoulder, nodded; and even though he did not turn to see her, he continued. "In that case, I leave you to her." And then he seemed to hesitate, just as Harry had moments ago. "Tonks?" he said, slightly plaintively, still without turning to look at her.
"We talked about this, Remus, it's fine."
And when Lupin replied with a heavy voice "I know, but still…", Harry got the distinct feeling that they were no longer talking about the Quidditch match.
"This isn't too much," Tonks said. "It's good. Come on."
Lupin turned to look at her, and when he started smiling, it seemed to Harry that he might have been all along. Tonks beamed back and raised her voice cheerily. "'Bye, kids! And Harry, we'll see you tonight at the Burrow." Lupin glanced around one last time, pensively; and the two of them began walking off the Quidditch pitch.
"Well," Harry said, feeling indecisive again. Something he didn't fully understand had just happened.
That seemed the cue for everyone else to leave, and they began wandering off in groups of twos and threes. Harry dimly realized that he had no clue how most of them had gotten here.
Finally only Hermione, Ron, Ginny and himself were left.
"We'll wait for you at the gate," Hermione said to Harry, and gave Ron a meaningful look.
"I need to talk to Harry," Ron said, characteristically stubborn, though, Harry felt, only pretending to be oblivious.
"You can at the house," Hermione repeated.
"No, we're ready to walk back now, too," Harry interrupted. "Ginny, forget everything I said earlier."
Ginny smirked. "Everything? But I didn't let you say anything I didn't want to hear."
"Well," said Harry, "Forget what I didn't say. Then, I mean. I mean, don't forget what I didn't say afterwards. You know, after-" he felt Ginny laughing at him silently, and Ron laughing at him outright, and decided to switch to whatever different topic first jumped to his mind. "It was smart of us to do this!" he shouted in the direction that Lupin and Tonks had gone; he shouted at an empty Hogwarts campus, and the wild, good-natured cheering of an hour ago seemed to echo in his head as background music.