Note: This is the sequel to my previous story, Quidditch Rings, though reading that first is not necessary to understand this story. It is simply on the same storyline and follows the same themes. If you'd like, however, you can find Quidditch Rings at (fanfiction [dot] net)/s/5032537/1/Quidditch_Rings
Enjoy!
The crowd roared as Ginny landed back on the ground, the golden snitch clutched in her hand. She held it up, turning to look around at her fans. She loved home games.
"And that puts the final score at three hundred and forty to two hundred and eighty." She smiled at her captain, who was running toward her, arms wide open. "The Holyhead Harpies win!" Even more cheers rang around the stadium.
Gwenog Jones finally reached Ginny and tackled her into a hug. They were soon joined by the rest of the team, who dog piled on top. "Saving our necks again, Potter," Gwen laughed as she helped Ginny up off the ground. "What would we do without you?"
"Oh, you'd manage," Ginny told her with a grin, before running to the line to shake hands with the Chudley Cannons' hands. She managed to keep a straight face as she shook hands with her opponents, despite the replay of her catch repeating in her head. It had to be the greatest catch of her life—nose-diving two hundred feet only to pull out of it two feet from the ground with the snitch at hand was not a normal occurrence. She silently wished Harry had been there to see it. But of course, a new Auror just out of training cannot take off work for something like a Quidditch match.
Her grin returned at she approached the end of the field. Just inside the path to the locker room stood the VIP guests of the players. Knowing all of her friends and family were busy, Ginny looked down as she approached the locker room, trying to avoid seeing the emptiness.
"Wicked catch," she heard. She looked up with a smile, expecting to greet a teammate's brother watching her. But Harry was leaning against the wall of the passage, beaming. Ron stood beside him, looking both pleased and frustrated.
It took her a moment to take in the sight of her husband and brother standing there when she was sure they were working. But then she rushed at Harry, hugging him tight and kissing him. "I thought you were working tonight!" she accused, moving to hug her brother, who had looked away while she kissed Harry.
"Yeah, well we caught Rolphius today, so Kingsley told us to go home once we got him settled in Azkaban," Ron replied, holding her in a tight hug. As they pulled apart, he added, "You couldn't have given the Cannons one win, could you?"
Ginny laughed. "Maybe if you just supported your little sister," she started pointedly, "you wouldn't have to watch a losing team all the time."
"Careful," Harry warned, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he escorted her to her locker room, "I'm starting to think it's Ron that makes them lose. You don't want him supporting you too much."
"Very funny," Ron said with a slight shove, but Ginny was laughing too hard. He had no choice but to chuckle, as well. "Well, I'm going to go home," he said as they reached the locker room. "I told 'Mione I'd be home right after the match."
"All right," Ginny said and hugged him again. "Send her my love." She turned to Harry as Ron left, now just outside the locker room. "You know," she stared up at him, "I was a bit excited to tell you about my catch."
Harry laughed. "Well, sorry for ruining that. I'll never surprise you and watch again."
She smiled, confident that he knew exactly how thrilled she was to see him there. "That's more like it." She pushed the locker room door open slightly before turning back to her husband. "You'll wait for me?"
Harry nodded. "Of course." With another short kiss, she stepped into the locker room. More cheers met her ears the moment she emerged. The champagne was already pouring everywhere.
"Ginny!" the keeper, Charity Holmes, exclaimed. "Saved my neck today! Have the champion glass!" She pulled out a glass they reserved for whichever player they thought won that game for them. It was four times the size of the other glasses. She went to pour into it before glancing at the bottle. "Running low," she stated. She tapped the bottle with her wand and it immediately refilled itself. She poured Ginny's glass and shoved it into her hand.
Without hesitation, Ginny downed her glass. "Bring on some more!" she shouted as she finished. There were shrieks of agreement as Charity refilled her glass.
Ginny met Harry again forty minutes later. She stumbled slightly as she exited the locker room, but he caught her with a laugh. "Been celebrating, I see!"
"Only three glasses," she giggled as she stumbled again, "champion glasses! Did you see that catch?"
"I did," he laughed, supporting her down the hallway and out the door. "Take my hand," he said once they were in the field outside the stadium, "I don't trust you apparating yourself like this."
But she pulled away from him. "I can do—" she tripped, reaching out and catching Harry's outstretched arm before she fell. "Okay," she was laughing now, "maybe not." Now she obeyed, taking Harry's hand with quite a stronger grip than necessary.
They landed in front of Grimmauld Place and Ginny tried to drop Harry's hand, but he held on tighter. "Look at you, taking care of me," Ginny said, leaning in to kiss him. He pulled away after a moment, but she did not notice.
She stumbled into the sitting room and collapsed onto a sofa as soon as they stepped inside.
"Can I get you anything?" Harry asked, heading to the kitchen downstairs. "And don't ask for firewhiskey," he called from halfway down the stairs. But she didn't seem to even hear him.
Harry entered the sitting room three minutes later with a tall glass of water. He shoved it into Ginny's half-asleep hand. "Drink," he ordered, taking a seat across from her. She obeyed, completely unaware of what she was drinking.
"You know what I love?" she asked after draining her glass. "Quidditch," she continues without waiting for Harry's response. She caught Harry's eye and hers seemed to flash. "But I love you more!" she exclaimed. Harry shook his head, chuckling lightly. Usually when she got like this, he was in a similar state. It was odd to see her from this perspective. "You know what?" she exclaimed, suddenly sitting up straight. "We should have a baby!"
"Very funny," Harry said, leaning back in his own seat. This was getting to be a bit much.
"I'm not joking!" She was looking hard at him. "Screw Quidditch," his eyes widened at her words, "I want a baby."
Harry stared at her for a minute. "This has to be the alcohol talking." They had talked about having children, but further down the road. He was just getting started in his career and he couldn't ask her to give up playing Quidditch.
"It's not, I swear." And to Harry's amazement, she did not seem the least bit dazed anymore. She was looking straight into his eyes, fully aware of him.
"I—" Harry did not know what to say. "If you really—"
"Let's start right now!" She leapt of her couch and onto his, pinning him to the cushions.
"Now I know you're still drunk," he said, laughing nonetheless. He pulled himself out from under her and off the couch. "We'll sleep on it—discuss it tomorrow. If you still want—then we'll see." He stood and walked toward the stairs. Ginny remained on the couch. "Are you coming upstairs?" he asked.
She stood up, swayed on the spot, and sat down again, her head spinning. "I think I'll just stay here for the night, actually."
Harry chuckled. "Goodnight, Ginny. I love you." And he disappeared up the stairs.
"But Holmes can't get there in time and – GOAL! Ten points for Puddlemere United!" There were cheers around the stadium. "Wood does a celebratory circle around his hoops as he—wait, what's this? Potter has changed direction. She must see something—yes, she is chasing the snitch. She is rising quickly—Dawson is right on her tail. Reaching for the snitch. Can she grab it? Yes! Ginny Potter has caught the snitch! The Holyhead Harpies receive one hundred and fifty points to win!"
The whole team was already huddled under her when Ginny landed. They immediately lifted her into the air and paraded her around the field. "What a way to say farewell," the announcer was saying over the crowd. "It looks like Potter's being carried out of her last match."
After at least fifteen minutes of constant cheering (and a bit of crying on her part), Ginny's teammates finally set her down in the center of the field. They stood in line to shake hands with the Puddlemere Uniteds. She stood in the back of the line. The others bid her a good game until she finally reached her last opponent: the Puddlemere United keeper, Oliver Wood.
"What's this about your last match?" he asked as he took her hand.
Ginny smiled at her fellow Gryffindor alumni. "I'm pregnant!" She had to scream it over the crowd.
"Pregnant?" he looked surprised. "That's brilliant!" He rushed in and hugged her. "Tell Harry I said, 'Congratulations!' will you?" He took a few steps away before adding, "Oh, and good game!" She nodded and he walked off in the direction of the opposing locker room.
Her whole family was waiting for her today. They all cheered as she emerged, smiling brightly, yet tearful. She rushed into Harry's outstretched arms and let out a sob into his neck. This baby made her so much more emotional than she normally was. But she did not regret her decision at all. Nothing made her happier than carrying Harry's baby. Yet it was still hard to think she might never play Quidditch again.
She wiped her eyes slowly and turned to face her family. They all had similar looks of both sympathy and happiness—as if they knew exactly how Ginny felt. Victoire sprang herself into Ginny's arms. "You sad, Aunt Ginny?"
"I'm not sad," she responded, holding the little girl close to her, "I'm happy."
They all walked to the locker room with Ginny. When they reached the door, Ginny passed Victoire back to her mother and took Harry's hand. She tried to put a lot of meaning into the gesture as she opened the door. He seemed to catch it—he did not release her hand until the door was closing behind her.
One last time she turned around to see the party already in motion. Champagne was flying in every direction. The champion glass stood on top of the lockers, untouched and for the first time, Ginny had no inclination to join in the festivities. Some things were just more important.