Disclaimer: Considering JK is the richest woman in the world (next to Oprah) I doubt she would write fan fiction.
What Happened After
To refresh your memory:
"…we won!" yelled Ron, bounding into sight and brandishing the silver Cup at Harry. "We won!" Four hundred and fifty to a hundred and forty! We won!"
Harry looked around; there was Ginny running toward him; she had a hard blazing look on her face as she threw her arms around him. And without thinking, without planning it, without worrying about the fact that fifty people were watching, Harry kissed her.
After several long moments – or it might have been half an hour – or possibly several sunlit days – they broke apart. The room had gone very quiet. The several people wolf-whistled and there was an outbreak of nervous giggling. Harry looked over the top of Ginny's head to see Dean Thomas holding shattered glass in his hand and Romilda Vane looking as though she might throw something. Hermione was beaming, but Harry's eyes sought Ron. At last he found him, still clutching the Cup and wearing an expression appropriate to have been clubbed over the head. For a fraction of a second they looked at each other, then Ron gave a tiny jerk of the head that Harry understood to mean, well – if you must.
The creature in his chest roaring triumph, he grinned down at Ginny and gestured wordlessly out of the portrait hole. A long walk on the grounds seemed indicated, during which – if they had time – they might discuss the match
HGHGHGHG
Ginny and I walked out to the grounds, holding hands. I noticed she was trying to hide a wide, silly smile. I felt my own ridiculous grin spreading across my face as well.
Leading her over to a large willow tree by the lake, we sat down. Wrapping my arms around her shoulders, she nestled into my chest. A minute or so past until Ginny asked –
"How long?" she looked up at me.
"Ever since I saw you and Dean in the passage" I told her.
"Jealous for a while now were we?" she chuckled
"Mmm…yeah" I answered vaguely, slightly pink.
We stared out over the lake until she asked again –
"How come?"
"Well Gin, I think we all know why I was jealous…"
"No no" she said quickly "What I meant was, why me?"
I thought back to all the times at Quidditch practice, the days at the Burrow, at meals. Gin had always actually known me. She wasn't infatuated with me because of any on the 'Chosen One' junk, or my unwanted fame.
"That's why" I murmured into her hair "You always liked me for Harry. Not Harry Potter. Just Harry. And not to mention the fact that you're absolutely beaut –"
At that moment she locked her lips against mine, and another snog ensued, so passionately this time that I was glad Ron wasn't here or his hair might have burst into flame.