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Flying at Dawn

Her first memory dated back to 1985. It was a humid, heavy summer night in which many a Weasley seemed to be tired and in a foul mood.

They'd made their yearly trip to Diagon Alley. Bill had bought the entirety of his school list and Charlie, knowing that he had Bill's older books, had asked for a new broom instead. His older broom was inherited by the twins. They got their mother to buy another old Cleansweep 5 so both Fred and George could fly together - Merlin knew the world could end if one of the twins was left behind without the other. Percy got a few used books, and had argued with their parents because they hadn't wanted to buy them all.

While the rest of the family struggled to do the best with their finances, Ron and Ginny kept quiet. They knew their sad place as the youngest children of a poor family. Their only hope had been ice cream for compensation, but as they went back to The Burrow, it was obvious that they wouldn't even get that.

"Ronnie, want to come fly with us? You have my toy broom..." said one of the twins. They both liked picking on their younger brother. It amused them, and while no one else shared the feeling, no one could put a stop to it.

"Shut up, Fred!" It was Ginny herself that spoke, decidedly angry. "You're not funny."

Fred turned to look at her and raised his chin haughtily. Or at least she thought it was Fred, but quite frankly, she didn't care at that moment.

"I wasn't talking to you. Either way, you can't come with us. Girls can't fly."

Those were words that stuck with her for all her life.

You can't come with us. Girls can't fly.

Ginny had never given a thought to flying. She knew Charlie liked Quidditch and the twins liked to beat a bludger around in the air. She liked staying in and playing with Bubbles, their Puffskein.

But suddenly, she was feeling left out. She was no worse than them for being a girl. So as soon as those words came out from Fred's mouth, she resolved that she would show them. Girls could fly. She could fly if she wanted to.

The next day, Ginny got out of bed early. Very early. It was still dark, though hints of the sunrise were showing themselves through her window. She didn't even know why she was awake.

Being as energetic as ever, she decided she had to get up and do something. Anything. She'd always been restless - she didn't like rolling around in bed when she knew she wouldn't fall back asleep.

So she did get up and downstairs. Not even her parents were awake. Merlin, not even Bubbles was awake. She sighed, thinking that she could get Ron to wake up and play Gobstones with her.

She tiptoed back up and entered her brother's room. He slept comically, a line of drool rolling down his cheek and onto the pillow. She laughed, but he didn't wake up.

"Ron!" she said. No response. "Ron, wake up!"

She came closer and examined him. Tapped him once on the arm. He simply waved her off and turned around.

"Ron!" she grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him. She was getting frustrated by her brother's ability to sleep deep. "It's like you're dead, Ron. You know, it's a bit scary."

Her efforts had failed, so she gave up. She turned around to exit, but she tripped on something and fell down. She started crying, only to remember no one could hear her. She promptly shut up and proceeded to examine the object that was guilty of her fall.

A toy broom.

Isn't this Fred or George's toy broom? she thought. She then remembered that Ron was the owner of both their toy brooms. Both.

She wanted one, so she didn't felt a single bit sorry for picking it up and leaving the room with it. She'd never used it, but the words Fred had said the previous night stung. She would still show him.

Knowing she could get in trouble, she ran downstairs and opened the front door. They weren't allowed to leave the house without permission but she didn't care. Dawn was starting to show up, so she felt safe riding outside. Every single one of her brothers had ridden their toy brooms inside, but she was afraid to run into objects.

Every single one of her brothers had been allowed to use toy brooms. No one had ever thought of giving one to her.

She placed it between her legs and kicked the floor. It rose a few centimeters up in the air, enough for her to only reach the floor with the very tip of her toe. She giggled, for she wasn't wearing any shoes and the dewy grass tickled. She allowed herself to fly free, keeping in mind to steer away from the gnomes.

Flying felt light and free. It felt nice.

"This is great!" she told herself. "I want to stay on this broom forever!"

Two years later, she knew the time had come.

The youngest legal age for a real broom was seven, so naturally she felt the urge to ride one when she was six. The toy brooms weren't doing it anymore, and now Ron could ride a real broom, she felt left out. Her brothers mocked her, and wouldn't let her play with them.

"You're too little" Bill would say, even though Ron was just a year older than her and they let him play.

"We're already five. It's more than enough" was Charlie's excuse. But they could always use an extra Chaser.

"You're a girl" those were the twins trying to pick on her - but she now knew there was an all-feminine team on the League. A team that didn't admit any boys! Her eyes had glimmered with hope when she heard Charlie mention them.

Ron would stay quiet, but once she thought she heard him say that he was sorry.

Now she was six, and everyone else was asleep. She'd begged for an alarm clock as a birthday gift, and she'd gotten Percy's old one. It was ugly, but it did the job of waking her up early.

Why did she want to wake up early anyway? Well, on Saturdays and Sundays, no one else in The Burrow would wake up early.

Not even Bubbles.

There she was, in the too-familiar setting of an empty broom shed. The box that kept the Quidditch balls was shaking, proof that the Twins hadn't tied up the bludgers properly (she couldn't tell if they did it on purpose or not.)

Right in front of that box were the brooms - three Cleansweep 5, two old Comet models and a Cleansweep 6.

Her heart raced wildly and her whole body shook with excitement. She was actually going to do it. She was going to take off in a real broom.

She knew she should've taken a Comet. She knew she should have. But her hand flew straight to Charlie's broom. She didn't know why. All she knew was that she wanted to fly high and wanted it to be awesome.

She dropped it to the floor, and it fell softly on the tall grass. She'd heard from Charlie that on his first Flying Lesson they'd just commanded the broom to fly up to their hands. Ginny was too little to do magic, and this was the closest she had ever come.

"Up!" she commanded, and the broom immediately placed herself at her hand's height. She closed her tiny fist around it.

I just did magic, she thought. Merlin, I want to go to Hogwarts now! I can't wait!

Another thing she couldn't wait for was the actual flying. After she was done savoring the previous moment, she adopted a flying position and kicked the floor.

This time, she couldn't touch the floor not even with the tip of her toe.

She couldn't even touch the floor if she fell down two meters.

Three.

Five.

Ten.

She stopped at fifteen, and admired the world around her. She witnessed the dawn as she'd done two years earlier, when she first rode a toy broom. She descended a little and tried going left, right and to understand how different was a real broom from a toy broom.

Remembering Ron's first clumsy attempts at flying, she knew right then that she was good. She knew she would show them one day. She knew she could be as good as Charlie, and better, and play in a team with girls. She'd only turn around to tell Fred "You can't come with us. You're a boy."

Now the twins were practicing to enter the Gryffindor Quidditch team and they were unbearable. They'd never leave their brooms alone, so she now had very little time to play in secret. They didn't know she rode Charlie's broomstick during the summer as much as he did during the school year.

She didn't even know why she didn't show them she could play already. Every time she started saying something about Quidditch, her brothers would laugh and tell them that she couldn't know, that she was still too little, that there would be time...

They were always putting her down, she rationalized while cutting the Holyhead Harpies' poster from a magazine. They were always telling her that she couldn't.

No. I won't show them now, she concluded. I'll get older, get good, and when they can't boss me around... then I'll show them.

She thought Hogwarts would give her freedom, but so far it hadn't.

The summer after her first year, the only thing that kept her sane was knowing that she could fly and get away from it all.

"Gin, we're here for you" her mother had said. Everyone spoiled her more than they always did, and she was forever grateful toward Ron and Harry for saving her life.

Harry. Harry Potter. The Harry Potter. She blushed at the thought. He was so dreamy... she felt so shy around him! And she'd never been shy. She looked down on girls that got embarrassed at nothing. And there he was, making her act like a total idiot...

He also was an excellent flier. She wanted to show him too, but not in a defying manner. Somewhere deep down she knew -she thought she knew- that he'd be supportive.

"Teach me how to fly like you" she'd say to him in her imagination, and he'd smile and comply...

But for the time being, no one paid attention to the fact that she wasn't locked up in her room but soaring the air, now throwing Quaffles through hoops and dreaming of becoming the best Chaser ever.

"Why aren't there Quidditch tryouts?" she'd asked Hermione, two weeks after the term started. She'd been obsessively checking the announcement board, but she'd heard the Captain had already made a training schedule. She was frustrated. She'd even brought a broomstick with her.

"We have the best team we could have, don't you think?"

"You know nothing about Quidditch."

"No I don't. I have to trust Harry and Ron about it. Harry says that Wood likes working with people he's trained to his liking."

"That's stupid."

"Ginny, you're not normally this sore about things. What's going on?"

Hermione was her best friend, and she hadn't told her. She kicked herself mentally when she realized this. All the support she'd been looking for she'd found it in her.

"I fly in secret. I'm as good as Katie or Alicia. Even Angelina. If I tried out, I could be in the team."

"Really? Why in secret?"

"Things get too... manly in my house. They never wanted to play with me."

"That's stupid. Well, this year Wood will be gone. The next Captain will probably hold tryouts. You'll show them, won't you Gin?"

For all response, she smiled and hugged her best friend.

Her big break had come.

It hadn't been in the way and shape she'd hoped, but it had come.

"Umbridge is such a sick, cruel bitch" she'd agreed with Harry. "I just hope the twins unleash all their anger on her. It will get... messy."

But what she was really thinking was that the Quidditch Team was three players short. Wasn't that the opportunity she'd been hoping for? Angelina wouldn't let her play as Chaser, and she couldn't be a Keeper. But a Seeker...

"Angelina, when are the tryouts?" She'd asked her, in front of her brothers. The three were a pretty close group, and with Lee Jordan, Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell, they were a pretty well-known clique.

"Ginny, be careful" George had said. "Quidditch is a serious business."

"I know. You'll see. Angelina, please do tell me."

Angelina looked at the twins, then sighed. Ginny smiled, thinking she'd found someone else that could understand.

"This Saturday. Good luck, Ginny."

It was all a dream, she thought. She couldn't believe she'd been chosen. She could believe it, honestly, but it seemed too good to be true.

The next few months had made her happy, even when it had been at Harry's cost. It was only natural for her to want to show her considerable talents, to want to shine, to do something so amazing that she'd always been denied.

She'd earned her brothers' admiration, and that's all she could ask for.

"Think of a happy memory" were the words that took her out of her trance. She was at a Dumbledore's Army meeting and Harry was teaching them to create a Patronus. "The happier, the better. Happier memories can create better Patronus, but you have to focus."

Ginny examined her thoughts. Being sorted into Gryffindor, her first date, her first kiss...

No, those wouldn't do.

Her first time flying. Her first time on a real broom. Being accepted to the Quidditch team...

She was absolutely drained, but she couldn't help but laugh when the memories of flying at dawn caused a silver horse to gallop out of her wand.

"I'm Ginny Weasley. Such a big fan. I can't believe this."

The rest of the table laughed at her attitude and she blushed. She hadn't acted like that since she'd gotten over her idolatry of Harry Potter. But she sincerely admired her.

Of all the important people Horace Slughorn could introduce to them, he'd brought her. She was the one and only Gwenog Jones, the captain of the Holyhead Harpies.

"Nice to meet you, Ginny" she'd said. "Do you play?"

"I do. I'm a good Chaser. And Seeker" she said without a hint of modesty. She realized she'd sounded arrogant so she added, "I'm not as good as you, though. I hope I'll be. I've always loved the Harpies... when I was little my brothers wouldn't let me play with them, so I wanted to be part of an all-girl team to..." she kept quiet and blushed even more. Why was she acting like such an idiot?

"To show them?" Offered the woman, clearly amused.

She beamed, forgetting her shame. Now she wanted it even more.

"Are you done?" It was the very same woman she'd meet four years earlier.

"Done what?"

She was standing in front of her new Captain. She was strict. It was all harder than she'd thought it would be. But she'd gotten to where she'd always wanted to be, and that gave her strength.

She was blissful.

"When we first met, you said you wanted to prove yourself to your family. You play professionally now. I have to ask, do you feel you've proved yourself enough?"

It was an interesting question, for she'd never thought her struggle was over. When she was done thinking about it, Ginny smiled, clutching her Firebolt and more conscious than ever of the green robes she wore. The Harpies' logo emblazoned on the front, her last name and number on the back.

"The truth, Gwenog? I think it was never about them."

Notes: This was written in little under two hours. In that time, I had to write a 2500-word fanfic about Ginny, using the word 'drained' and the emotion of 'hope.' This is what came out - obviously a Quidditch fic, because apparently I can't write anything else.

I hope you liked, and by all means, let me know if you did.

A thousand thanks to ladyoftheknightley for beta-reading this piece!

Thank you all for your support!

-Karyn.