These are three drabbles about Ginny Wesley. I hope you'll like them in spite of the shortness.

ElieNP

A Proud Father

Mrs Weasley screamed at her twins to catch their sister. They were the ones who had put her on this broom – not a toy, not a broom for children, a racing broom for Merlin's sake! She could have killed them on the spot when Ginny had flown in front of her, at her eyes level, her eyes level!

"Ginny! Land for Heaven's sake! Get back to the ground!"

The twins had been laughing like mad until they'd realised their baby sister was faster than them, easily dodging each one of their attempts to grab her. In spite of the determined frowns which graced their forehead, both were indeed being surpassed by a girl of five.

"She is a natural!" Mr Weasley proudly exclaimed. He raised his thumbs at the red-haired child. "That's my girl!"

"Don't you dare encourage her!" Mrs Weasley growled at her husband. "I want her back on the floor immediately!"

Mr Weasley lowered his head. He called her daughter who came to him without difficulty, having heard, contrary to her mother, the pride in his voice.

"I'll teach you to play Quidditch, I'm sure you'll love it," he murmured in her ear.

Father and daughter smiled at each other, oblivious to Mrs Weasley's anger and the twins' vexation.

A Rest

Ginny jumped on her broom then immediately took off. She craved the freedom flying gave to her, offered her. It was a present she'd gladly receive again and again, all day if it was possible.

The ground was far away under her feet. Heavy, clumsy, slow, it roused in her so many flaws! Up in the air she was finally free. She'd rather spend her life on a broom than stuck to the floor.

The sky was her saviour, her friend. It allowed her to forget her worries, to leave the silly problems hindering her life behind. Those problems seemed so little in the air! Much more when a game was going on, though she'd found nobody to play with her this time.

Disappointed, she'd nevertheless taken the direction of the pitch. To fly, to focus on one sole thing, to catch the golden snitch, all of these things made her feel at peace.

A broom and a snitch, the sky, she needed nothing else right now. They might all die soon, her family, her friends, him...

She sped up. For some hours, the sky, her friend, would allow her to forget, to have a rest.

The bewitched snitch

The snitch was on his left, moved to his right, above his head, then again to his left.

Ginny was smiling. Harry looked so cute trying to catch the tiny ball she had herself bewitched. Her aim wasn't to make fun of him, but if it could make him stop acting as if he was better than her she'd appreciate.

Wasn't she a good seeker too? Hadn't she proved she had skills? They might not match his yet, but wasn't she still young? She'd make progress and, one day, she'd beat Harry Potter.

She wasn't impressed by the rumours surroundings him any more. He was her brother's friend, her boyfriend, not only the famous boy-who-lived.

Although at that very moment the name should rather be the boy-who-looked-angry-flying-after-a-snitch-he-couldn't-catch.

Ginny laughed a little, quite certain he wouldn't like this new nickname. It suited him well though.

"Stop laughing!" Harry yelled from above her. "You wouldn't catch it either!"

A spark of amusement lighted her eyes. "You want to bet?"

"You don't even have a broom!"

"Then lend me yours."

Harry landed to give her his broom. "Go ahead I'll watch you."

Ginny winked at him. "And I'll catch it."

She took off, not forgetting to break the spell at the same time. Of course she was cheating, but it didn't really matter, did it?

Even Harry Potter had to lose sometimes.

'It can only do him good,' Ginny thought as the golden ball touched her palm.