Holyhead Harpies Locker Room
June 30, 1999
The air smelled of sweat and steam. All around her, the Harpies' newest recruit picked up the sounds of light chatter, the rustling of clothes, and Gwenog Jones's off-pitch singing in the shower. The locker room was a flurry of activity, but Ginny Weasley sat still, her hands folded on her lap, eyes closed. To everyone else, she seemed deep in thought – this was only her second practice, after all. She was in the big leagues now, and that, they all knew, took a period of adjustment.
Indeed, Ginny wanted to be there. She wanted to be wrapped up in thoughts of quaffles and brooms, but no matter how hard she tried, no matter how fervently she wished, she could not distract herself. Images of her half-naked teammates assaulted her brain, and she was disgusted. Completely and utterly disgusted. She didn't want to see any of that.
Or did she?
Was this normal? Was this what every straight woman on this all-female team went through? Nobody else seemed to mind. To them, at least as far as Ginny could tell, this was par for the course.
Well, duh, she thought. They've been doing this for years.
Yes, that must be it. Ginny must simply need more time to adjust to these new and foreign circumstances.
She did grow up with all boys, after all.
Holyhead Harpies Stadium
June 30, 1999
Following a review of the practice and suggestions for each player individually as while as the team as a whole, Ginny stepped out of the locker room and out onto the pitch with her mind in turmoil.
Hold the quaffle tight in your arm but light in your hand. Balance your focus between your teammates and the opposition. Don't get distracted.
In truth, she wasn't sure how she'd be able to stay focused. Not having seen her teammates damn near naked.
"Gin? Gin, are you in there?"
Ginny's attention snapped back to reality, to the here and now, where the last person she expected to see – and the first person she wanted to see – waved a hand in front of her face.
Her beloved boyfriend stood before her, rocking back and forth on his feet in excitement. Beside him stood Hermione and Luna, having come along in support of their friend. Luna beamed like the sun, decked out in green and gold even for the first practice. Hermione looked more pensive.
Harry spoke enthusiastically about Ginny's performance as they walked off the pitch and out of the wards. Luna tried to caution her against upsetting bibblies, who could change the weather,k by breaking too quickly through clouds. Hermione remained silent.
The Burrow
June 20, 1999
After a filling dinner of Beef Wellington – Ginny's favorite dish – and a series of long Quidditch discussions with Charlie and George (as well as an argument with Ron), Ginny prepared for bed. She was, after all, exhausted.
Her teeth brushed and her nightgown on, she was stopped in the hall by Hermione.
"Can we talk?"
The older witch sat Ginny down on the latter's bed and perched beside her, her mouth twisting in the way it always did when she was about to discuss something she had been pondering.
"What's going on?" Hermione asked.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't give me that. You weren't yourself after practice. Did something happen?"
"No! Well…kinda."
A cocked eyebrow encouraged Ginny to continue.
"It's just…I grew up with six boys, y'know? And to suddenly be in the same room as a bunch of half-naked women…" Ginny fiddled with her thumbs, feeling her face turn pink.
"You're not feeling self-conscious about your body, are you?"
"What? No! It's not that!" Ginny snapped,
"Then what is it?" Hermione asked patiently.
When Ginny hesitated, the Brightest Witch of her Age proved herself worthy of her title once again.
"You're uncomfortable about seeing their bodies, aren't you?" This was hardly a question. Ginny nodded. "And it makes you squirm because you don't know what that means."
Again, Ginny nodded.
Hermione smiled warmly. "Ginny, it sounds like you might be bisexual."
Immediately, anger flared up in the younger woman. "What are you suggesting? That I'd cheat on Harry?"
"Absolutely not!" Hermione countered calmly. "All I'm saying is that you have some measure of attraction to certain women. It's nothing to be ashamed of, and it's certainly nothing to worry about. As a matter of fact..."
Hermione pointed her wand and Summoned a dusty, aging book whose cover was probably once white.
"I don't agree with everything she did, but I think this might be worth a read," she said, handing the book to her friend.
Ginny wiped off the cover with the cuff of her sleeve. "Mademoiselle de Maupin?"
Holyhead Harpies Locker Room
July 2, 1999
The Holyhead Harpies' newest recruit stormed the locker room with renewed vigor, getting ready in haste. She had spoken with her boyfriend the night before, and he, while straight, was beyond accepting of her sexual orientation.
Garbed in her jade and gold uniform, Ginny Weasley pushed up her left sleeve and gazed lovingly at the crude drawing on her wrist. Harry, she admitted, was hardly the greatest artist she had ever dated, but she had never been so inspired as she was by his childish sketch of a woman on a horse, pointing a sword, a shit-eating grin on her face.
"Onward, thine steed!" Ginny cried, mounting her broom with an equally shit-eating grin on her own face. "To victory!" And she shot up into the sky, leaving behind a baker's dozen confused, half-naked women.