A/N: The Holyhead Harpies in this story are the same Holyhead Harpies in my other stories;
Joan Penney: Beater
Gwenog Jones: Chaser
Ginny Weasley: Chaser (of course)
Cecilia Morton: Keeper
Mia Larson: Beater
Marie Silverstone: Chaser
Sarah Donaldson: Seeker
3 June, 1999
I end the floo call.
All I can think is, am I actually ready for this? I mean, this is my dream. All I've ever wanted to do was to play for the Holyhead Harpies as a Chaser. But that means that I had to move to Holyhead, which is a bit far from Ottery St. Catchpole.
My parents were a bit back and forth about the situation, and my eldest brother was against it. Percy didn't like the idea but he told me that I had to follow my dreams where ever they took me. Ron didn't seem like he was too fond of the idea. He sat in the corner silent, waiting for me to change my mind.
Harry. He was quiet-almost hurt-when I told him my decision. I feel extremely guilty about leaving him behind after we were separated for my last year at Hogwarts. Maybe he could visit me on the weekends. The problem is not only do our schedules conflict, but now with living so far apart, I'm unsure if we'll find the time to be together. But I'm just a floo away between the hours of nine o'clock at night and ten-thirty in the morning. He could come to the matches but I know it won't be the same. We won't be together like we used to be.
But, today I confirmed with the Holyhead Harpies manager that I accepted the job and I was on my way. By Saturday, I will be completely moved out of Catchpole and be settled in Holyhead with a small flat, that isn't as welcoming as the Burrow or Grimmauld Place. Yeah, less welcoming than Grimmauld Place. So, today is goodbye to my family-I'll visit when I can-and hello to Holyhead, where I can start my intense training with Quidditch Legends.
To be honest, I'm going to miss everything at home. I take one look around the living room. I smile at the family pictures lined up on the mantle. There are so many memories behind each one; everyone at Bill's wedding,the Quidditch World Cup, that one is my favorite because Hermione and Harry were both included in the picture, and so many others. I lift one off of the mantle and hold it in my hands. It's a yearly Christmas photo taken in my fourth year at Grimmauld Place. Remus, Tonks, and Sirius are in the photo, too. Along with the 'Golden Trio' as I have started to call them.
"You can take that with you, if you want." A voice says from behind me. I turn and see my mum with a mellow smile on her face. I smile lightly and place it back on the mantle.
"Thanks mum, but, I already have one that I'm going to take. Besides your collection won't be complete if I took it from you." I reply, she stands next to me glancing at all of the photos, smiling.
"You don't have to leave you know. You can stay here, and still play Quidditch." She says, hopefully. I glance at her, my expression dropping as I notice her puffy, red eyes. I don't know if it's because I'm moving so far away, or if it's because I'm the youngest to leave, that she is so emotional. I'm guessing it's because I'm the youngest. I don't recall her being so teary-eyed when Charlie left.
"I'm sorry, Mum." Is all I can respond with. I don't want to explain to her why. The reason is because I want to try being independent for a change. Also, because living in Holyhead would be a lot more convenient to get to training, even though it's less for any family occasion.
15 June, 1999
I give the man my last luggage bag and turn back to my family. They all stand there teary eyed, even if some are trying to hide it. It finally hits me how much they care about me. I walk over to my mother first.
"I love you, Mum. I'll write as much as I can." I remind her before giving her a hug. I can hear her sniffling on my shoulder, "Don't cry, Mum, I'll be back for Christmas before you know it. Just think of it like Hogwarts." I say, pulling out of the hug and looking to my dad.
"No matter what, I'll always be your little girl, Dad. Don't forget that." I say, giving him a warm smile and a tight hug.
"I'm so proud of you, Ginny." He whispers. Now, I was about to tear up. I walk to Bill next.
"I know you don't like this, but it's what I want to do. And I'm sure Victoire would be better off not learning from me for awhile. I don't think the world could handle another girl like me." I say, laughing before giving him a fleeting hug. I continue on with Fleur, Percy, Audrey, George, Angelina, and now to Ron.
"You better be good to Hermione. Don't drive her up a wall, okay?" He snorts.
"And you stay out of trouble. Or I will personally take a trip to Holyhead and bring you right back to London." He says, hugging me.
"I'm not going to promise anything." I laugh. I move to my best friend next. My hysterically, red-nosed best friend who is bad at concealing her tears.
"I love you, Hermione. I'll write you as soon as I get there." I say, hugging her tightly. We stay in that hug for awhile. You never know how much your best friend means to you until you have to say goodbye.
"You better start writing as soon as you get on that train." She laughs. I giggle and open my eyes, and find my boyfriend looking at us with a sad smile. I close my eyes again, taking in the last of the hug.
"Watch over Harry for me." I whisper. I walk to Harry and clasp my hands with his.
"So, this is it, huh?" He asks, quietly.
"I guess…You're coming to the game, though, right? Two Saturdays from now, at eleven?" I ask, hopefully.
"ALL ABOARD! TRAIN LEAVES IN THREE MINUTES!" A man yells from a distance.
"Of course." He finally replies. "But, I need to give you something." He says. Harry reaches into his pocket and pulls out a mirror. It looks broken with a missing piece inside of it. I look at him confused. "It's a two-way mirror. We can talk to each other by looking in it at the same time." He says, taking out the missing shard. I smile at my boyfriend. I love him so much. I hug him tight, letting tears fall down my cheeks. I really don't want to say goodbye. But I have to. I need to do this for me.
"I love you, Harry." I say, quietly.
"I love you too." He says back, kissing the top of my head. I step back and give one last fleeting look at all my family members.
"I love you all so much." I say with a sad smile.
"ALL ABOARD! TRAIN LEAVES IN ONE MINUTE!" The man yells, ringing his cow bell. I take one last glance, turn and board the train. I walk into the seat with the window which is by my family. But, as soon as I take my seat, the train starts to move and all I can do is wave goodbye to my family.
I unlock my door and almost immediately drop all of my things onto the floor. I never realized how heavy I traveled. But, I'm not just traveling, this is my 'home' now. Glancing around the dingy foyer, I notice how much my new flat is different from the Burrow. There is a lack of continuous noise, causing my stomach to twist. It's too quiet.
The smell reminds me of Dolores Umbridge's office; cats and tea. It's definitely a place I'll have to get used to. But do I want to get used to it? Is this really the life for me? Questions stir in my mind like small gnats swarming in the air, and there's nothing I can do to shake them off.
Taking a step into my new kitchen, I realize this is where I am going to be cooking my own meals from now on. No more meals from my mother. Oh, how that's going to be hard to get used to. I can only imagine that I will be too terrible, or even too lazy, to cook anything and just trade in cooking for an easy-make, roman noodle diet. That will be great to have along with my Quidditch career, with as much sarcasm as possible. I'll be a stick by October.
Later that night, I make my new bed with my old sheets. It's nice that Harpies provides pre-furnished dorms. But, I wish the bed wasn't so uncomfortable. But, is it really uncomfortable? Or is it because the room that surrounds the bed is not my pale yellow walls, with posters of the Holyhead Harpies and pictures of me and my friends? I need to get my mind off of the Burrow; I'll never learn how to be independent unless I start thinking like it. But, I can't help it.
My chest starts to tighten from anxiety; my mind swirls with memories, and my lower eyelids fill with all that's left of my strength. Can I really do this? Is this really for me? My bottom lip starts to tremble. But I take a deep breath in order to stay calm. No. I'm not going to cry. I'm not going to cry.
I start to feel the stream of the one tear that surfaced itself, fall down my cheek. I quickly wipe it away with my palm, usually girls do this to make sure no one sees them cry, but, I'm just shielding my tears from myself. More and more come down my cheeks; this is going to be harder than I thought.
16 June, 1999
Here I am, first time ever inside the official Holyhead Harpies pitch. I take it in for all its worth, my dream is slowly coming true. Gwenog Jones-yeah, the Gwenog Jones-greets me with a hug-a hug-telling me to go to the locker room and get ready for my first Holyhead practice. I walk slowly into the closed room, where I can hear other voices inside. That must be the rest of the team.
"You're Ginny Weasley, eh?" Mia Larson asks as I walk up to the vacant locker with my name labelled above it. I turn around and nod my head with a shy smile.
"You're the one dating The Boy Who Lived, huh?" Sarah Donaldson asks from next to Mia. I gulp; I usually hear that from people who are about to tell me I'm just lucky.
"You don't need to be scared of us, you know, we don't bite." Marie Silverstone says, laughing along with the others.
"Yeah, our action figures are a bit frightening but that was Steve and Lisa's doing." Joan Penney chips in, causing more cackles from the other girls.
"Sorry? Steve and Lisa?" I ask, trying to seem less of a complete coward.
"Here comes our warning speech for all rookies." Joan laughs while tying her shoe.
"Steve and Lisa are our publicity managers. Trust us; you'll be getting to know them quickly. They are the people who schedule the photo shoots for the calendars, interviews, regulate the merchandise, oversee the media articles; everything goes through them." Marie says, almost as if she was irritated with the fact.
"But they're two little snakes. They'll make sure your name is heard." Sarah says in a lowered voice.
"I don't understand, what do you mean?" I ask a bit cautiously.
"Let me make it clear that the whole scandal about me last month, was planted by those two rats. They make sure you're on the front page of any magazine and will do anything for it." Joan says, annoyed with the memory.
"Just stay away from those two as long as you possibly can. I'm sure the media will love to tear you apart." Mia adds.
"Why me?"
"Because you're dating Harry Potter. You're only seventeen. Youngest girl ever to play professional Quidditch as a first string. They'll dig up your past and present or even future to make some type of reputation for you." Cecilia explains, making my stomach churn.
"You'll have your first scandal soon enough. And when that happens, just blame Steve and Lisa." Mia says, offering me a hair tie. I mutter a 'thank you' and tie my hair up but I can't stop thinking about everything the girls just told me.
Practice takes everything out of me. It was surreal, and exhausting, but almost welcoming and a bit exhilarating. I loved it. As if this job was made just for me. I start remembering why I wanted to play Quidditch full time. Maybe this is the life for me.
I floo home maybe a little too quickly after practice. I can't wait to check my mirror and see if Harry is on the other side. I miss him, and I just want to talk to him.
"Harry?" I call into the blank mirror. I hope he isn't asleep.
He isn't there. I double check the time. Ten o'clock. Of course he isn't up. He has to get up at six o'clock every morning, so he always turns in early. I set the mirror back down on the worn out, cherry wood desk. Sighing, I start a fire in the fireplace, luckily for me; the Harpies management gave me a flat that had one.
Soon, I wonder into my cramped kitchen, looking for something I can possibly eat, but I hear a roar come from my fireplace. The floo system. Harry? Hermione? Mum? Dad? I basically run back into my little living room...slightly let down. Joan Penney, the Beater for the Harpies, is standing in my living room, completely comfortable.
"Um...Hello?" I greet her, shocked by how relaxed she is about coming over unannounced.
"Hey, Red, We all were wondering if you wanted to go out for a few drinks with us tonight."
"Red?"
"What you don't like your nickname? Okay then how about…Ginger?" She asks.
"And now I don't mind 'Red'." I say, laughing.
"So are you coming or not, Red?" She asks, slightly annoyed at the fact I'm not being forward with her.
"Sure, should I get changed?" I ask, looking down at my jeans and sweatshirt.
"Yeah, wear the shortest cocktail dress you own." She says, plopping down on the used couch.
"But I don't own a cocktail dress." I say, awkwardly. She looks up at me like I'm a completely foreign creature.
"What do you mean by that? Isn't your family loaded?" Her comment throws me for a second.
"What? No…not really." She gets up and throws her purse on my couch. She slowly walks toward me and looks me up and down.
"Alright, we may be able to work out something with either my dresses or Cecilia's. You're close enough to our sizes." She says before taking my elbow and dragging me through the floo system.
I can't believe it. I'm in Joan Penney's flat. Wearing Cecilia Morton's dress. While Mia Larsen is fixing my hair and Marie Silverstone is doing my makeup. I'm literally surrounded by five of my all time idols. The only Harpy who's not here is Gwenog Jones. Sarah told me it's because Gwenog is a struggling alcoholic and her boyfriend would never allow her to do any partying with them. Or I guess, us.
"Alright, Ginny, turn around." Marie says, nodding toward the mirror behind me.
"Okay." I turn around and look at myself in the full length mirror. Oh, Merlin. I look like…well…I'm not really sure what I look like but I definitely do not look like myself.
"Alright, one more thing." Joan adds before disappearing into her closet and pulling out a pair of extremely tall high heels.
After a few hours of partying and drinking, we all return to my flat. And as soon as we get here, the girls decide to tell me that not only are we going to go shopping for clothes on Saturday, but also for décor. I don't think they know that I don't have that kind of money to spare until I get my first paycheck.
I decide to just go along with it, it's one o'clock in the morning, I'm drunk, I'm wearing a tiny dress and a lot of makeup, and at that moment I don't care about anything anymore. I forgot all about my anxieties and all of my fears, and in this moment I think I'm living a pretty independent life…well the most independent life I have yet to live.
17 June, 1999
I wake up the next morning to a familiar voice coming from my living room. Through my grogginess and my slight dizziness I feel myself walking pretty fast to the voice. But when I get there, there's no one in my living room; I glance at the clock. It's 6:18 in the morning; Harry would have gotten up already.
And then it hits me; the mirror. That's where the voice is coming from. I quickly make my way to the desk I had set the mirror down on just last night. And I finally see him.
"Hey, Gin." He says with a smile.
"Hey, Harry." I reply. I'm sure that my hair looks like garbage and my eyes have bags under them but I don't mind.
"Gin, you look…interesting." He says, cautiously.
"Yeah; the girls took me out for drinks last night. I fell asleep before I could take off the make up." I reply, rubbing the tired out of my eyes.
"You're not going to get into trouble are you? I mean, drinking before a practice?"
"Trust me, they were drinking too, and some of them were a bit more sloshed than me; Cecilia threw up at one point."
"That's nice…Is this whole going out thing going to happen often?" Harry asks, causing me to pause. What did he mean by that?
"Um, I don't know; maybe. The girls told me that we're going to go shopping for cocktail dresses and stuff to decorate my flat with."
"But you hate shopping…" Harry says, confused.
"I know, but I'm going to go anyway, it'll be fun. Plus I don't want them to think I'm some sort of prude, you know?"
"Right…"
