A/N: This is the fourth in a series of one-shots that are attempting to "fill the gaps" in the HG ship. I don't want to change canon whatsoever, rather I want to take what J.K.R. gave us and embellish; add anecdotes where they could feasibly be and build a more substantial and believable connection between Harry and Ginny. Please r/r!
And, as always, none of it is mine; it all belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Ginny Weasley was sitting on her broom, pretending to be her brother as he frantically tried to defend his posts. Beside her, Demelza and Jimmy Peakes were laughing, clutching their sides and enjoying Ginny's perfect mimicry of Ron's defensive maneuvers. Harry laughed to himself. He understood why they could barely keep their eyes off of her since he was having that same trouble himself.
"The little brat…" Ron grumbled beside Harry. "Hope she falls off, acting like a fool up there…Mum'd have a heart attack."
Harry's heart squeezed despite himself. Ginny was an extremely accomplished flier, probably better than himself, if he were honest. The likelihood of her falling was slim, but still the image of her tiny frame falling the 200 meters down to the pitch made him feel sick.
"Should I…" Harry trailed off, watching closely as Dean flew up to Ginny's side. The monster in Harry's chest growled in protest as Dean leaned over to Ginny, saying something to her that Harry couldn't catch from his vantage point.
Her brows furrowed, forcing her small, heart-shaped face into a stubborn frown. She turned quickly, flying off to the opposite side of the field with Demelza in tow. Dean sat on his broom, watching Ginny fly off in bewilderment.
Ron chuckled, "Bet ya a chocolate frog he told her to be careful. She can't stand that."
Harry grinned, "I'll take that bet."
Dean flew over, a confused look on his face.
Ron elbowed Harry knowingly, then pointedly asked, "Hullo Dean, trouble in paradise?"
Harry practically scowled at Ron, trying his best to conceal the animosity that was surprisingly building in his chest. He briefly imagined a scenario that involved kicking Dean off his broom, sweeping Ginny off her feet, and a secluded, dark corridor.
Dean looked back and forth between his dorm mates, looking terribly confused.
"All I said was to be careful. I was afraid she was going to fall off and I had this terrible image of her falling and…" He trailed off; looking down at his hands in a look Harry could only call defeat.
Despite the monster in his chest that was savagely calling for blood, Harry felt a bit sorry for Dean. He and Ron had had years to adapt to Ginny's wild temper and fierce independence. Simply put, Harry thought to himself, Dean had no idea what he was dealing with.
"Buck up, mate. She'll set herself right here in a few hours." Ron assured him,
"S'pose so," Dean replied, "besides, it's what they say, right? Making up's the best part."
He grinned, a glint in his eyes that was meant to be friendly but that Harry had interpreted as rather devilish. His sympathy quickly dried up and he began to catalogue all the ways in which he would best like to hex Dean.
Ron's ears had turned an absolutely alarming shade of red and he lunged forward, reaching for Dean's collar, his right hand swinging in a fist for Dean's jaw. Harry grabbed Ron's arm, pulling him back just in time to save Dean. Part of him was inclined to let Ron beat him to a pulp, but the other part was Gryffindor's Quidditch Captain and there would be no brawling amongst his team.
"Ay you lot! Are we going to practice or are we?" Demelza called. She, Jimmy, and Ginny had flown back over. Ginny was in the back, a stormy look on her face that Harry somehow found endearing. Her temper was something of infamy, but Harry thought it was her best feature, particularly when directed at prats like Dean Thomas.
Harry mechanically called out a few drills to run, barking out commands. His eyes followed Ginny as she flew off. Her hair was loose today, flying behind her like a fiery curtain. Harry greedily drank her in, his attention riveted on her gold and burgundy form. A scream from behind Harry suddenly rent the air, causing Ginny to sharply turn on her broom. The last thing he saw was her beautiful brown eyes widened in fear and looking straight at him.
Sunlight poked Harry in the eyes, causing his head to ache. He felt disoriented and he struggled to sit up. A brutal, sharp pain stole his breath and he flopped gracelessly back down onto his pillow.
"Careful, Harry! Madam Pomfrey said you won't heal correctly if you move." Hermione's voice forcefully brought Harry swimming back to the conscious world.
"Should've seen yourself. Like a little rag doll, ya were." Ron's face hovered over him, grinning widely.
"It's not funny, Ron!" Hermione cried indignantly.
"What happened?" Harry asked, his voice coming out in a croak.
"You caught a bludger in the chest." A new voice said.
Harry was mortified to see it was Ginny. She gracefully sat at the foot of his bed, opposite of Hermione. He blushed hotly not only at her nearness, but also at the causality at which she made herself. Harry was keenly aware that it was his tendency to watch the red-haired girl at the end of his bed that caused him to end up in the hospital ward yet again. He caught her brown eyes with his and he burned more brightly. He looked down, catching Hermione's eyes as well. She had that knowing look on her face and once again, he blushed.
"Harry, what's wrong?" Ginny's concerned voice interrupted his thoughts. She leaned forward, placing her hand on his forehead, her eyes filled with worry. Harry felt his heart skip a beat. Maybe taking a bludger wasn't so bad after all. "You're burning up! I'll go get Madame Pomfrey."
She got up, hurrying to find the mediwitch.
"A lot of good Madame Pomfrey will do you…" Hermione shrewdly quipped. Not a lot escaped her.
"I don't' know what you're talking about, Hermione. I think I am feeling a bit feverish." Harry replied, a wide grin stretching his face.
"What are you lot going on about?" Ron asked in confusion.
Hermione just rolled her eyes at Harry, but he caught the twinkle in her eyes and the quirk of lips.
The sound of Ginny and Madame Pomfrey returning broke the moment. Harry rearranged his features into a mask of pain, settling down further into the covers.
Ron looked back and forth between his two friends, apparently still at a loss for the clandestine conversation that had just transpired.
Harry theatrically groaned as Ginny slid into the chair next to him. He was suddenly envisioning his triumphant return to the Common Room as the noble, injured Quidditch Captain and a certain red-haired Chaser on his arm…