The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition- Round 5

Team: Falmouth Falcons

Author: MaryRoyale

Position: Beater #2

Prompts Used: Candle, Shadow, "Who is she?"

Assigned Weasley: Ginny

Title: The Search for Ginny Weasley
Official Disclaimer: The original characters of this story are the property of the J.K. Rowling. No infringement of pre-existing copyright is intended. It is my contention that this work of fan fiction is fair use under copyright law. No monies were received for receipt of this work.

Pairing: None

Rating: T
Word Count: approx. 2100

/\/\/\

"be yourself- not your idea of what you think somebody else's idea of yourself should be."
― Henry David Thoreau

\/

War changes people. Ginny couldn't remember where she had heard that, but she thought it might have been Remus Lupin or Hermione. At the time that she had heard it, the words meant nothing to her. Now, after, she knew exactly what they meant. Every time she looked in the mirror she had a moment of disorientation where she wasn't quite sure who was staring back. Confidence had never been an issue for Ginny—she had always known exactly who she was and what she wanted out of life. Now she wasn't sure who Ginny Weasley was, or what she wanted. She felt like she was a shadow that imitated Ginny Weasley and that at any moment they'd discover her deceit. She'd tried talking to her mother, but Mum had just patted her and told her that her feelings would pass. Bill was busy with his wife and children. Charlie was too far away. George was still so quiet and lost-looking that Ginny couldn't bear to add to his burdens. Percy was trying so hard to make up everything to everyone, but Ginny didn't feel comfortable going to him. She had the feeling that Percy rarely suffered from self-doubt.

"You here to see Hermione? She's already left for the Ministry," Ron told her when he opened the door. He was still wearing his Auror uniform and it was obvious that he'd just gotten home from an overnight shift.

"No," Ginny replied with a shake of her head. "I came to see you. I need your advice."

"Really?" Ron's clear blue eyes lit up with pleasure and he moved to let her in.

The flat that Hermione and Ron had moved into just last year was tiny, but it had a small living area and Ron directed her to sit on the loveseat. He hurried into the kitchen and made tea. It wasn't until Ginny had a cuppa and a small plate of bikkies that Ron looked at her expectantly. She paused for a moment and just reflected on how happy Ron seemed. Dark circles were under his eyes from lack of sleep and his robes were wrinkled and rumpled, but he still looked happy.

"Ron, did you ever feel like you didn't know who you were?" Ginny asked slowly with her eyes focused on her tea.

Ron snorted. "Pretty much every day," he replied drily.

"You seem to be pretty self-assured these days," Ginny countered.

"Yeah, I guess." Ron took a large swallow of his tea and then set it down. "It took me awhile to figure out who I was, but eventually I did."

"I don't know who I am anymore," Ginny confessed in a small voice. She crumbled a biscuit in nerveless fingers. "Everyone just wants everything to go on normally and I—I just can't, Ron."

"You mean Harry?" Ron asked in a stiff voice, his face already taking on the look that meant he was pulling on his big brother robes.

"No," Ginny said with a shake of her head. "No, Harry's been too busy trying to deal with everything. He and I have spoken maybe once or twice. He just doesn't have the time."

"Oh." Some of the stiffness left Ron's shoulders and he relaxed slightly. Ron grimaced at her. "You know you're putting me in a bad spot here. Harry's my best friend, Ginny."

"What are you talking about?" Ginny frowned at him.

Ron rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "I think you should get away for a bit. You'll never be able to figure out what you want to do here."

"Get away?" Ginny hadn't really thought of that. The prospect was both frightening and thrilling; her stomach fluttered in excitement.

"Yeah. Take some time to figure out what it is you want," Ron explained.

"That sounds wonderful," Ginny said. Then her shoulders slumped. "How am I supposed to do that?"

"What do you really, really love doing?" Ron asked with a pointed look across his cup of tea.

"Quidditch," she replied automatically.

Ron nodded at her. "You're bloody good at it, too."

"I don't think I'm following you."

"The Holyhead Harpies are holding open auditions next month," Ron said with a hint of exasperation. "I think you should show up and try out."

"Oh." Ginny sat back for a moment.

A contract with the Holyhead Harpies would definitely get her out of the Burrow; she would be traveling all over the world and playing Quidditch. Ginny knew that she was a good player and versatile enough to play almost any position, but she had never thought to try out for a professional team. It wasn't that either of her parents had discouraged her from thinking about her future or a career, but rather that circumstances had forced her to focus only on the here and now for the last several years. She knew that her father would support her completely; it would be Mum that would take it the hardest.

"I'll do it," she muttered fiercely to herself.

Ron grinned at her.

/\/\/\

The whispers on the pitch drifted to Ginny's ears. Who is she? She ignored all of them and focused on the game. She played better than she ever had in her life and by the time she was done she was soaked in sweat. The coach and the team captain gave nothing away, but Ginny liked to think that she saw a glint of approval in Gwenog Jones' eye. At the end of the first day, she wasn't on the cut list and she felt a stab of triumph. She didn't grin like a maniac—she couldn't when there were girls around her who were sobbing brokenly because they'd been cut. She just gathered her kit and went to the Floo to return to her hotel room.

"Harry." Ginny was honestly surprised because she hadn't expected to see him. She hadn't expected to see anyone since she was doing this on the sly.

"Hey." He looked exhausted and had the same dark circles under his eyes that Ron did.

"What are you doing here?" Ginny asked and then glanced around to see if anyone had noticed him yet. She grabbed his arm. "Come on, we'd better go to my room or you'll be mobbed."

The hotel room was tiny and Ginny stood awkwardly near the dresser. Harry stood near the door and ran a hand through his hair making it stand up in black spikes.

"So Ron says that you're leaving," Harry said after a moment.

"I'm trying out for the Holyhead Harpies," she replied.

"Oh." He shuffled his feet for a moment and then looked away. When he looked back those emerald-green eyes were focused completely on her. "I'm going to wait."

"Sorry?" Ginny wasn't sure she'd heard him correctly.

"I know what I want," he said firmly. His unwavering gaze was fixed on her and she flushed.

"What if I don't want the same thing?" Ginny didn't know whether or not that was true, but she felt it was necessary to get it out there.

Harry flinched. "I hope that you'll tell me," he said in a hoarse voice. He paused and then continued. "Or is that your way of telling me?"

"No." Ginny loved Harry. That had never been the issue. "If I—if that changes I'll tell you."

"Okay." Harry looked confident and in control of himself. Despite his fatigue, he seemed to give off an air of competence. It was a good look for Harry and Ginny was proud of him.

"I need to do this for me," Ginny told him. She looked at him then and she hoped that he understood. She wanted him to be as proud of her as she was of him. For them to work—for the two of them to have any kind of future together—she needed to be an equal partner, not his faithful shadow.

"Okay," Harry said again. He moved toward her and grabbed her hand. "I meant what I said. I know what I want, and I'm willing to wait for it. There'll be a candle in the window for you—that whole bit."

"A candle in the window?" Perhaps Harry was more tired than Ginny had thought. She peered at him carefully.

"Maybe it's a Muggle thing," he said with a grin and an easy shrug of his shoulders. "You put a candle in the window when a… when a loved one is away. It's supposed to guide them home."

"Oh." Heat suffused her cheeks. "Harry, I can't promise you anything. I need to figure out who and what I am, and until I know all that—I can't accept what you're offering."

"I understand," Harry assured her.

After a few more minutes of stilted conversation, they exchanged an awkward hug and Harry left. Ginny sat on the hotel bed and stared at the wall. She had known that this wouldn't be easy, and she had dreaded speaking to Harry, but now all she felt was relief. He knew and he understood. She wouldn't have blamed him for not waiting—she had never expected him to suggest it.

That Harry wanted to wait for her should probably make her teary-eyed and soppy. At the moment, she only felt claustrophobic. Perhaps that would change in time, once she stood on her own two feet and figured out what she wanted to do with herself. Once she was her own woman and could stand next to him with her head held high, then she might be grateful for his understanding and his patience.

/\/\/\

The roar of the crowd was background noise to Ginny who was focusing all of her attention on the game at hand. This particular match was against Puddlemere United and Oliver Wood, and Ginny felt a burning need for her team to do well. In the year since she'd been picked up by the Harpies this was their first game against Puddlemere United and Ginny didn't want them to waste the opportunity. In fact, she hoped that the Harpies beat the pants off of Puddlemere, but she had to keep her head in the game to make that happen. The score was ridiculously close and it was all up to the Seeker; whoever caught the snitch was going to win the game—unlike playing certain other teams who shall remain nameless where even if they had caught the snitch the Harpies still would've trounced them. Ginny shook her head and focused on the game. Keeping the Quaffle away from Puddlemere was the most important thing at the moment.

The game stretched had stretched out over the course of five days and Ginny had gratefully taken her brief breaks to use the loo, shower, change clothes, and take a power nap. By the time the Harpy Seeker caught the snitch they were all exhausted and longing for their beds. Ginny hoped that Ron or Hermione had popped in to feed Arnold while she was gone. She stood in line with her teammates to shake hands with Puddlemere. A strong hand gripped hers firmly and she looked up in surprise. Oliver Wood was eyeing her thoughtfully.

"Weasley," he said at last. He looked slightly pained, but then he continued to speak. "Played with Charlie, Fred and George at Hogwarts. Expected to see you use some of their moves, but you surprised me. You've got your own style, Weasley. Damn fine player. It was a pleasure to play against you."

Ginny beamed at him. "Thank you," she replied. "It was an honor to play against you Wood. Heard stories about you from… from everyone."

A shadow flitted across Oliver's face and he nodded. "Tell everyone hello for me," he said quietly. Ginny nodded.

The line continued, but Ginny couldn't have told you who shook her hand. She had her own style. Wood had said so. If there was one thing all of her brothers could agree on it was that Oliver Wood was crazy, but he knew his Quidditch. A strange feeling unfurled in her chest that she thought might be a mixture of pride and happiness and satisfaction. Her teammates clapped her on the shoulder and she dimly heard them call 'good game' to one another as they headed to the locker room. The first thing on her schedule was a weeks' worth of sleep. After that… well, perhaps she might take a walk by Grimmauld Place to see if there was still a candle in the window.