Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
A/N: I'm not-so-diligently working on this other piece and it's kicking my butt, so I took a break to write this, which had been hanging in my head for weeks. I've never tried to write Harry/Ginny, so I'm sorry if either are out of character. I hope you're not lactose intolerant, because there's quite a bit of cheese. Please, please review.
The double doors to the club burst open as a large group of female Quidditch players and an even larger group of rambunctious fans boisterously swaggered in. It being Friday night, the bar was already pretty busy with copious witches and wizards and the dance floor was fairly crowded, but to the Holyhead Harpies and their groupies, it was far from deterring. Nobody could possibly rain on their parade tonight – not after the amazing victory they all just shared.
It was an intense match between themselves and the Ballycastle Bats. The girls didn't want to admit it, but they were unsure of the likelihood of victory in the game. The Bats were the second-most successful team in the League and had been having a very intimidating winning streak. But the girls were on top of their game that day. The snitch was caught in an hour and the Chasers – most notably Ginny Weasley – had made enough goals that the Harpies ended up beating the Bats 230-80. Indeed, they had been tied when the Snitch was caught, as they had been for much of the game – which made the victory that much sweeter. It was their captain's idea to celebrate by going to the local near the stadium.
Ginny wasn't sure how she felt about the clubbing scene, but she knew she needed new experiences. She had never gone to a club before because she was always in a monogamous relationship. But since she called it off with Harry for the time being, this could be an interesting exploit for her.
Harry seemed fairly blind-sided by it, and Ginny did feel bad. She needed time to decide about things. It wasn't like she broke up with him per se – she expressed her worries that they weren't compatible, and she wanted a break so she could figure it out.
"What do you mean, 'compatible?'" Harry asked softly.
"It's just – I need some time to focus on me, and the team. I need to figure out what I want."
"That doesn't really answer my question," Harry pointed out. He didn't sound angry. He sounded – understanding, or perhaps resigned. It made Ginny feel even worse.
"I'm just not sure if we're right for each other," Ginny finally said, suppressing her melancholy feelings. She knew she wanted some time off; she had been thinking about it for a while.
Harry nodded. "So...a break."
"Yes."
Then she had taken her stuff to move in with a friend from the Harpies. As she looked back on that night, which was two weeks ago, she reflected on the fact that with Harry, there were only ever two attitudes in a fight: he was either very angry or very passive. Since this was the first of its kind, Ginny hadn't known what to expect. She supposed that the reason he was so resigned in this ordeal was that he knew Ginny was going to do whatever she wanted despite Harry's feelings on the matter; if she wanted a break, she was going to take a break in one way or another.
Now, two weeks later, she was at a club with her teammates and a group of fans, none of whom it appeared she knew. While her friends went to the dance floor, she made her way to the bar by herself. She figured it would probably be best if she could relax a little before she showed off her brand of dancing to all of her friends.
She ordered gin and tonic, which she knew was probably not very feminine, but she didn't really care. When the barkeep gave her her drink, he tried to make small talk. "Win the game?" The girls were changed out of their uniforms, but all wore t-shirts with their names and jersey numbers.
"Yes," she smiled, "against the Ballycastle Bats."
"Wow." The barkeep seemed genuinely impressed, and then moved on to the other patrons who had just sat down.
The venue was getting loud with various Muggle tunes from the DJ and the general chatter of people in various states of drunkenness. She took a moment to look back at the dance floor and saw many of her teammates and friends writhing against either each other and some guys she recognized as ones who had come in with the team. She just couldn't imagine wanting to dance like that. Ginny took a very short time to down her drink, and it surprised her greatly when another popped up right in front of her without her ordering one.
She was in the process of telling the bartender just this, but he said, "This one's from the man over there. He says congrats."
While the barkeep left to tend to more patrons, Ginny took a moment to not-so-subtly look at the man to whom he had pointed. He was sitting – or perhaps brooding – by himself, nursing what may have been scotch and soda but it was hard to tell from where Ginny was sitting. He was staring at her, and he was quite attractive. From her place at the bar she could tell he was tan and buff under the gray cotton shirt he was wearing. He had dirty blond hair and a chiseled face. She imagined him to be very tall.
She nodded to him politely (since he was still staring at her) and held up her drink a little, which she hoped conveyed a "thank you." How nice of this man to buy her a drink just because she was on a winning Quidditch team!
She finished it quickly and doled out the necessary sickles and knuts necessary to pay for the one she ordered. Being at the bar by herself was making her feel quite lonely. She decided to join her friends on the dance floor.
About half her team was dancing with mysterious men who were found in seedy corners of the club, and the other half was dancing in a group of themselves – some with each other. Ginny joined the latter.
Despite the nature she displayed by drinking before dancing, Ginny had no qualms about her abilities as a dancer. She knew she was good; she had been told that by many boys – and girls – at Hogwarts. Her confidence was furthered when her friends cheered after she joined them. The music playing was fast, some sort of punk music she didn't know, but it didn't matter. The dancing was a time for celebration (and relief if you were the other half of the Harpies, it seemed). So she just started moving.
It was interesting, how easily she could lose herself in movement. It didn't necessarily have to be dancing – for example, it was one of her favorite parts about Quidditch. She didn't have to think about anything else when she was on a broom, holding a Quaffle. Here, dancing, she didn't have to think about that shot she missed at tonight's game, or the uneasy feeling she got back at the bar when that man stared her down. She only needed to close her eyes and move.
When she opened her eyes at one point to look at her friends, she noticed all of their eyes were fixed on a point slightly behind her. She only had a split-second to wonder what they were all so fascinated by when she felt large hands attach to her hips and a large presence at her back. She gasped but it wasn't heard in the noise level of the club. She turned around to see just who it was who was touching her and it was no one else but the man from the bar. He was smiling.
"Hello, darling," he drawled, and Ginny had been right. He was very, very tall.
It wasn't like she was unfamiliar with this sort of dancing. But that this man was a stranger, and that she could feel his arousal, was enough to make her want to scream. He had ruined her vibe. She couldn't believe she had been naïve enough to think he only bought her that drink to say congratulations on their win. How could she have so blatantly missed those signs? She felt very claustrophobic, and screw the idea of this being a new experience – she had to get out of there. Now.
"I have to go," she yelled to the man behind her and started leaving, but she found there was now a death grip on her wrist.
"Where are you going?"
Desperate and starting to get frightened, she tried despairingly to get her wrist free, but in vain; the man's hand was too strong.
"We were just getting started," he said, that eerie smile slipping back into place.
Ginny did the only thing she could think of to do: with her free hand she grabbed her wand. A very audible "Stupefy!" was shouted, there was a loud cracking sound, and the man was shot back towards the wall of the club, making the entire dance floor vibrate.
When the Harpies had looked back from the man's new place by the floor to where their friend had been, she was nowhere to be seen.
Ginny had Apparated to the first place that came to mind. She wanted a safe haven. She wanted to be home.
And apparently, she wanted another chance, because here she was, in front of her and Harry's flat.
The night was incredibly quiet, though she supposed that may have simply been the result of just having left an extremely loud venue. The sky was navy blue and cloudless; she could see countless stars. She could tell the flat's living room light was on. The "welcome" mat Ginny had placed in front of the door was still there, as were the numbers on the door. She didn't know how she felt, as far as her well-being went. She very much wanted to sleep away this night.
She put up her fist to knock and suddenly wondered – what if Harry had already moved on? What if he had a woman over, right now? It was a terrible possibility. The world didn't revolve around her. He could have easily moved right on with his life.
But it was just a break, not a true break-up. So maybe he was waiting? There was only one way to find out, of course, unless she wanted to leave. But Ginny was never one to take the easy way out.
So she knocked.
She felt her heart pounding in her head for only a brief couple moments because then the door opened and Harry was before her.
"Ginny." He sounded very surprised, as he should. It was late at night, why was she at his door?
"I..." Damn it, she should've planned what to say before she knocked on the door. She silently cursed Harry for being the only one who could make her a speechless mess. "I'm an idiot," she blurted.
Harry had the nerve to smile. "No you're not."
"Yes, I am. I don't know why I ever thought that you being in my life was wrong. I'm an idiot for thinking it."
Her voice must have been shaking, because Harry suddenly looked very concerned. "Are you all right?"
She refused to laugh, because then she'd start crying. "I was just at a club with the Harpies," she said. "And this man just -"
Harry stepped forward and asked darkly, "What did he do to you."
"No! Nothing!" Ginny quickly explained. "He just – he bought me a drink, and then he tried to dance with me, and that's not the life I want. That's why I'm an idiot, really. For thinking that any life without you is a life." She paused. Do not cry. Do not cry. "I'm sorry."
Then she kissed him, because that was all she knew to do at that moment. Like her entire purpose was to kiss him. Right then, there was nothing in the world other than the two of them and the moment they shared. As they kissed, Ginny marveled at just how much she had missed him.
They broke apart. "I love you," Harry whispered into her ear.
"I love you too," she whispered back. "Are you mad at me?"
"No. You did what you had to do."
Ginny allowed herself to smile. "Does that mean I can move back in?"
Harry smiled too. "Of course you can. This is always your home."
