Author's Note: Just to point it out here, this is the very very edited version of Taking Flight, which I'm now focusing on full time. If you read the first chapter of that before I took it down, you will definitely notice similarities, but this is very different. Many, many things changed. Hopefully for the better. If you read the first version, please do let me know what you think of the changes. More notes down at the bottom.
The early morning sun beamed down upon the growing camp. A bright splash of colours – banners, clothes, and tents – spread across the open field displaying immense team spirit. Or what was left of the teams. The pervasive buzzing of conversation grew as the sun rose higher, signifying the start of the day.
For the tenth time, Harry caught himself pacing and stopped. He had woken embarrassingly early, far too excited to sleep, and had nothing to do until the teams assembled and tryouts began. Life in Wizarding Britain had not been easy for the past few years and today was Harry's opportunity to take control of his life and enjoy it.
He forced himself to sit down in the plush, comfortable chair in his tent kitchen. His fingers drummed on the table as he waited for the tryouts to start. Really, it'd been too long since Harry had had any fun. His father had virtually forced him to attend the tryouts when he found out Harry was considering staying home alone as he had since the war.
His father, James Potter, infamous Marauder and famous Auror, current Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Harry had not advertised his name – really, if he hadn't needed to register using his name, he would've changed his appearance. Further then he always did, at least. His father had bought Harry his first broom at one year old; it was a toy broom, granted, but he'd loved it. He was pretty sure he still had it around the flat somewhere. James had always joked that Harry spent more time in the sky than he did on the ground, and he was close to the truth.
It wasn't that Harry was ashamed of his father, though. He loved his father with all of his heart, he just didn't want to win on his father's merits if at all possible. He'd had to deal with people trying to become his friend – or lover – based on his father before, and it always left a sour taste in his mouth. He was his own person but people were determined to idolize him and the reality always disappointed.
Harry shuddered, as he always did, at the thought of how close he'd come to being the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry would always respect his best friend Neville immensely for the burden he had endured. Perhaps that was why Harry had taken such an active role in the war. Despite the horrible things he had seen and the terrible losses he had suffered, he had never once regretted his service. Albus Dumbledore had summed it up best at one of the last meetings of the Order of the Phoenix: Evil won when good people stood by and did nothing.
Harry stood, crossing his large kitchen – he'd never gotten over how awesome magical tents were – and pulled a small glass from the cabinet. He filled it with a rather expensive brand of Firewhisky and drained the glass. It wouldn't do to get drunk, but he could use a little liquid courage today.
Today was a very big day for Quidditch lovers. During the war, the Quidditch league had been virtually dismantled and the sport had ceased. Many Quidditch players were targeted and killed - Merlin forbid Wizarding Britain to have any entertainment - and therefore they became nonfunctional. Afterwards, they had been rebuilding. The War had been over for a few years now and today was the tryouts for virtually all teams. Everyone had lost players.
He took a moment to chastise himself; he felt ashamed that he had a very good chance of benefiting from the deaths of other Quidditch players. He took solace in the fact that it was still on his own merits– he wasn't being arrogant when he called himself a damned good Quidditch player.
Despite this, he was immensely nervous. Professional Quidditch had always been his dream and if he failed today he would never be able to play. He had other qualifications, but nothing would be the same as flying through the air in a fast-paced professional match, proving himself independently successful.
A horn blew and Harry jumped as he realized it was an alert of the gathering. He eagerly threw open the door to his tent, wincing slightly as he made contact with the humid air and had an eyeful of sunlight. He immediately missed his cooling charmed tent. His nervousness doubled as he took sight of how many people there were, all eagerly talking and walking. Socializing.
Shaking his head and trying to contain his nerves, he made his way to the far end of the field, feeling slightly claustrophobic as he was pressed into the crowd. After a few minutes, he arrived at the destination. He saw the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports standing on a makeshift podium outside of the pitch boundaries. Further back on the podium stood all of the captains of the recruiting teams. The only ones he recognized were Gwenog Jones of the Holyhead Harpies, Oliver Wood of Puddlemere United, and Brevis Birch of the Tutshill Tornados.
Harry was trying for a spot as Seeker on Puddlemere United. Oliver was a good man, Harry knew him as they had been on the Gryffindor Quidditch team together. He was extremely young to be a coach– as the senior one of the two surviving members of Puddlemere United, he inherited the position. Harry couldn't help but find it ironic that the only member of Puddlemere that fought in the war was also one of the two to survive it.
Harry smiled nervously, looking around. Despite the massive crowd, Harry began pacing for the eleventh time that morning.
Harry had always felt more alive when he was in the air. His senses sharpened and he became Seeker more than Harry. He allowed his instincts total control and was almost always rewarded for it. He ignored the fact that several hundred people were watching him play. In the tryout, they took the names of team-hopefuls and matched them against each other. It had been Puddlemere's turn to do this for two hours. Harry's team had been up for ten minutes.
Analyzing both his team and the enemy team, Harry assessed his team's weaknesses as well as the enemies' weaknesses. Harry himself was a solid asset as Seeker, and the enemy's Seeker seemed to stick to the age-old tactic of simply following him.
His beaters, on the other hand, were terrible. They had no synchronization and couldn't work together to save their lives. Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for the enemy beaters. Harry had already had to dodge bludgers twice.
Because of their beaters focus on Harry, however, his team had already made three goals. With a solid thirty point lead, Harry was comfortable. His Keeper had also blocked several shots, so he had high hopes there.
I really have been lost without Quidditch, Harry mused as he glided across the skies. There hadn't been any time for games after Hogwarts, as he had been in the thick of the war. As the wind made his unruly hair even more ruffled, he realised he felt powerful. His Quidditch glasses not only helped his sight but magnified it and kept the wind from hurting his eyes.
A whooshing noise warned Harry of an incoming bludger. He made a sharp turn and glided forwards towards the goals, his Firebolt Extreme pushing him incredibly fast. Harry thought he may have seen the Keeper's eyes widen but he didn't take time to think about it before pulling up with a heaving wrench, allowing himself to shoot upwards for a few seconds before slowing down. He grinned when he saw their Keeper rolling towards the ground. Not stopping to watch as a Slowing Charm broke the Keeper's fall, Harry zoomed forwards again.
He allowed his eyes to unfocus, taking in much more of the details around him. With supreme control, he managed not to start when he saw a flash of gold near a beater's head. Forcing himself to glide in a wide, lazy circle, he curved. Unfortunately, the other seeker wasn't as dumb as Harry had originally assumed and Harry saw him stiffen.
All bets were off now and Harry pushed his broom to its limits. The snitch shot off, but once Harry had seen the bloody thing he knew he wouldn't lose it. He watched as it shot down sharply and he grinned. I might be able to have a bit more fun after all.
He shot down with it, the wind making it hard for him to breathe. He continued to fly towards the ground, only pulling up at the last second. His opponent, trying the same manoeuvre — the Wronski Feint — pulled up too; unfortunately, he was already too low and had only gotten halfway through his pulling up motion before colliding with the ground. Harry slowed down, holding the Snitch in his hand to show everyone he had caught it.
In truth, Harry had caught it long before it reached the ground, but Harry rarely got to perform a Wronski Feint. He allowed the cheering from the stands to wash over him.
Ginny smiled as she took in the sights and sounds that reminded her so much of her better days at Hogwarts. The crowd roared as Harry swiftly performed a Wronski Feint; Ginny suspected that very few of them saw what she did: Harry seizing the snitch halfway into his dive. She grinned as he continued his descent, allowing the other Seeker to slam into the ground.
Harry was just as much of a Marauder as he'd always been. She really only knew him because Neville, him, and her brother Ron had been attached at the hip for most of their Hogwarts years. Once Ginny had gotten over her girlhood crush on Neville, after the Chamber, she had even hung out with them a few times. Not often, of course, as they were boys and saw her as an annoyance more often than not. Harry had been the only one who hadn't, and she would always be grateful to him for that. It was his encouragement that led to her trying out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team and he was the reason she was here.
Ginny felt the usual sadness creep in at the thought of Neville and Ron, though she had become accustomed to it. Shaking it off, she cheered with the rest of the crowd. Making her decision, she stood from her seat, a part of her bemoaning the loss– she'd gotten to the stands early, and had a really good seat; it'd be taken immediately.
She made the trip down to the changing rooms and watched as everyone left. After nearly twenty minutes, Harry still hadn't come out, and Ginny was getting exasperated. Her frustration was forgotten when he finally exited, a smile still on his face. She ran to him, tackling him in a hug.
She felt pressure under her chin and looked down to see his wand pressed into it. Scuttling back, she exclaimed, "Bloody hell, Harry, you sure know how to greet a friend."
Any thoughts of giving him a hard time faded as she saw the embarrassment and regret on his face as he pocketed his wand, "Sorry, Gin, you surprised me. My reflexes haven't really gone away."
She nodded understandingly. It had taken her a long time and she had only fought in the final battle– that was enough.
"Sorry, Harry, I know what you mean. Anyways, that was a perfect Wronski Feint! You're sure to get on the team."
He grinned, "It feels good to play again, it's been too long. When do you get a go?"
"Harpies get their turn tomorrow. I bet it does feel good to play again after everything. How have you and your dad been?"
Harry looked uncomfortable, "We've been fine. I can't say it's been great but we're doing better. He's been very busy with work– how are Arthur and Bill? I know they were wounded in the Final Battle."
Ginny frowned at the obvious change of subject but decided to let it slide. "They've both recovered completely; physically, at least. And you never let Bill thank you, Harry. He's always regretted that, you know he feels like there's a life debt there."
Harry grimaced, "I know, that's why I avoided it. He doesn't owe me anything. Your family has done enough for us, given enough…" He trailed off as he realized the unintended insensitivity.
"It's alright, Harry, you're allowed to be a git sometimes– it's a bloke thing."
He mockingly glared at her before stepping forwards and pulling her into a hug. After a few seconds, he pulled back, "I'm sorry I haven't been around, Gin. It's good to see you."
"And don't you forget it. Mum's quite cross with you, and it'd do her a load of good to see you again. You should come over for dinner sometime. Maybe she'd stop badgering me for once if you did."
He smiled in sympathy, "That bad, huh?"
"You have no idea, Harry. I really need to find my own place, but I can't afford it at the moment. I'm praying I catch a reserve position and finally get enough to move out."
Harry raised an eyebrow, "A reserve position? Merlin's pants, Gin, you're definitely getting a starting position."
She blushed, hating herself for it, "You think so? I'd love to but I'm not sure."
"And Gin, I moved out from Godric's Hollow, got a flat in London but it's owned by a wizard. You're more than welcome to stay there while you look for a place."
She glared, "You know I'm not going to take charity, Potter."
He shrugged, "So pay me back when you get enough. Ten galleons a month sound fair?"
"How much do you pay for it?"
"Er… A hundred galleons a month."
"Blimey, Harry, I'm not going to pay one-tenth of what you do. Fifty a month, if I get the job."
"When you get the job. And it's a deal."
She smiled gratefully, "Thank you, Harry, it'll be so good to get away from the mothering. As much as I love my mum, she's overbearing."
And she really was grateful, though she couldn't help but worry. How was she going to break the news to her parents?
Harry sighed as he laid down in the bed in his tent. Hopefuls were allowed to return home but he'd brought the tent because he wanted to be here every morning and it was easier to just sleep here. The energy of the camp excited him; even now, at this late hour, people scurried about, gossiping and socializing.
Today had been wonderful. It had been great to reconnect with Ginny and have a friend to talk to. He hadn't realised how much he missed companionship until he had it again. He had no idea why he offered to let her live with him. The flat had plenty of room, so it wasn't a problem, but it was a very spur of the moment decision.
He knew he was lonely. He'd known it since he moved out and lived on his own, but he just couldn't force himself to go out. He knew the Weasley's would love to have him, and his father had made it clear that he had a home with him at any time.
He missed Ron and Neville. Harry would never get over the guilt he felt and that was why he never showed up to visit the Burrow. They had lost enough because of him.
He groaned and got up from his bed, making the short walk over to the kitchen. He reached out for the empty glass he'd left in the morning but stopped. After a moment's pause, he forewent the glass and grabbed the entire bottle. There were no rules on inebriation now.
Ginny smiled as she entered the Burrow, carrying her Quidditch gear over her shoulder. She pretended not to notice her mother's disapproving stare and she ran up the stairs to her room and put it away.
Ginny walked down the stairs, entering the kitchen, "Hi, mum, is there any dinner left?"
Her mother nodded, "I saved you a plate, dear, though I'm not sure why you weren't home at dinnertime."
Ginny recognized the question in her statement, "I stayed a bit late, I saw Ha- er, an old friend." She winced at the slip-up; her mother caught it immediately.
"Who was it you met, dear?"
"Harry, mum. He was trying out too." Ginny was watching her mother cautiously and saw her demeanour change immediately. A small smile appeared on her face.
"Oh! How has he been doing?"
"Honestly, mum, I'm not sure. He was pretty excited to talk with me, though, and I got the feeling he's a bit lonely. We lost track of time."
Molly lapped it up, "Poor dear, he really should come over more. You did invite him, right?"
"Of course, mum," Ginny was starting to get exasperated. Thankfully, the floo lit up and Arthur walked out of the floo.
"Hello there, my lovely ladies. Work kept me," he explained. He smiled at Ginny, "How was Quidditch camp?"
Ginny loved her father dearly and she knew she always would, "It was great! I get to do my first match tomorrow but I had to show up for introductions today."
"And you'll never guess who she met there, Arthur," Molly interceded, much to Ginny's ire.
Arthur winked at Ginny before turning back to Molly, "Oh, and who was that, love?"
"Harry Potter, as she tells it."
Arthur did look surprised then, "Oh, truly? Word around work is that he's not been seen around. Everyone thought for sure he'd follow in his father's footsteps and become an Auror." Ginny had figured as much but she knew that Harry hated being under his father's shadow.
Their somewhat late dinner continued much in that manner and Ginny realised that she was going to have to tell her parents she was moving out; as much as she wanted to procrastinate, she knew it'd be easier to just break the news. As they finished up, Ginny decided to just go for broke, "Mum, dad, I have to tell you guys something."
Arthur nodded calmly, "What's that, Ginny?"
"Well, I'm moving out," Ginny stated hesitantly. As soon as she said the words she knew it was the right choice. She was an adult now and the Burrow was becoming too quiet, holding her back. She needed to grow and it was preventing her from doing so.
Her mother's eyes looked bright, though, and Ginny felt bad. Molly had taken the loss of Ron worse than any of them and it would just be her and Arthur left when Ginny went. "Oh, Ginny dear, where could you possibly go? You don't have a job, you can't afford to move out."
"Harry offered to let me stay at his flat. When I get a position on the Harpies, even if it's a reserve slot, I'll be making good money and I can pay half the rent."
"You can't possibly live alone with a man, Ginny, people will think you're a scarlet woman!" Molly shouted.
Ginny glared at her, "Bloody hell, mum, you know Harry. You raised me, you should trust me. This lack of trust is why I want to move out!"
Molly gasped and Arthur stood, "Now, girls, calm down. Molly, Ginny's an adult and has been for some time, you can't force her to stay and she does need to learn to be an adult. It was going to happen sometime. I for one am relieved she's moving in with someone like Harry. I trust him immensely after everything he has done for our family. Ginny, how dare you talk to your mother like that? Apologize."
Ginny felt properly chastised. "I'm sorry, mum, but I really think this is the right choice for me. Anyways, there's nothing between me and Harry."
Molly nodded sadly, "I'm sorry too, dear, your father is right. I knew this was coming but it's been so long since we've not had any children here. I'll miss you so much."
Much to her ire, Ginny felt tears coming. Blinking furiously she stood and walked around the table to her mother, pulling her into a hug. "I'll still come for Sunday dinners every time I can, and I'm sure I can convince Harry to come. You're not losing me."
Molly smiled weakly and hugged her back. Arthur put his hand on Ginny's shoulder and she turned to hug him tightly, "I love you, daddy, but this really is the right choice for me."
"I know, Ginny, I know. You know you'll always have a home here. Can your mother and I help you pack and move?"
"Of course, dad. I love you two so much." she accepted his offer. Despite any arguments, Ginny was and always would be proud to be a Weasley.
Ginny lived for flying. Ever since she was six and used to sneak out and fly at night, she had known it was her calling. At Hogwarts, she had found that Chasing was her forte. Weaving past an opposing Chaser, she rolled through the air and seized the ball her teammate had thrown to her. She flew directly at the middle goal, letting her eyes flicker to the left. As expected, the Keeper panicked and leaned slightly to the right hoop. Ginny used her moment of panic to throw the ball directly through the goal.
She grinned victoriously, I've still got it.
After an hour of the repetitive and gruelling back-and-forth chasing and a near-hit incident with a bludger, Ginny was getting annoyed with the seekers. Even with the score of 90 to 40, Ginny was worried about a loss. She knew that games were supposed to last a long time in the league, but in a nerve-ridden, desperation fueled game, she really didn't want to spend too long battling it out.
Her team's beaters were great, and she worked pretty well with the chasers, but their seeker and keeper were not nearly as good as the other ones. Why do some seekers think it's a good idea to just follow the other seeker? That never works!
As if her thoughts were answered, a seeker rose to the sky with victorious pumping of her hand. Unfortunately, it wasn't her team's seeker. Filled with a feeling of loss, Ginny flew down with the rest of the teams, heading towards the changing rooms.
Harry groaned as he watched Ginny's match. She was playing phenomenally, and he knew that with a few years of playing on the Harpies, she would be a legend. Unfortunately, her keeper and seeker were rubbish. For one, the keeper looked like he was scared of his own broom. Her seeker could probably be beaten by Draco Malfoy if he were still alive and that was a tragic fact.
After around an hour, Harry watched the other seeker seize the snitch. The crowd roared but all Harry saw was Ginny slump, aiming her broom to the ground in obvious disappointment. He rushed from the stands to wait outside for her. He suspected that she forgot that her team didn't have to win to be selected.
Harry had to wait for what felt like forever, though it couldn't have been more than a quarter of an hour. When she did emerge though, Harry grinned and reciprocated her earlier hug. Thankfully she didn't pull her wand on him– that had only happened a few times in the past, and it had never been pleasant. He felt her stiffen in his arms and just smiled, "Hey, Gin. You did bloody amazing."
"Fat lot of good it did," she replied, her spirits crushed.
"Er, you do remember that you don't actually have to be on a winning team to be selected, right?" He saw her eyes widen and he grinned teasingly. "You did forget, didn't you?"
"Shut up, Potter."
"Never, Weasley." Harry laughed, throwing his arm around her shoulder. To his credit, he didn't make a noise when she planted her elbow into his side.
After a week of tryouts, Harry and Ginny were both ready and both terrified. Harry was currently annoying Ginny with his pacing. "Harry, will you stop pacing? And bloody hell stop touching your hair! Why are you even nervous? There's no way you don't get picked."
Harry smiled sheepishly, "Habit, sorry. And you never know; Thomas was pretty good."
Ginny snorted, standing up. "Pretty good, maybe reserve material. No way he gets picked over you."
Harry grinned, "Hey if I can't pace, you can't either."
Ginny glared at him but before she could respond, the horn had blown and they had been forced to go to their separate teams. Harry felt remarkably less confident without Ginny with him. They all stood in a row before a podium, Oliver Wood standing tall staring down at them. He was one of the best keepers in the league.
"I will begin calling those who made the team, I will begin with starting positions and once they have joined me I will start calling reserves. We already have one chaser from before the war and I obviously play as keeper as well as captain. Do you all understand?"
A chorus of nervous confirmation broke out.
"Good. Jess McAlpine, chaser. Rachel Haynes, chaser. Matthew Moore, beater. Robert Walsh, beater. Harry Potter, Seeker."
Harry's heart stopped for a moment but his body managed to turn on autopilot and stand, smoothly walking to the stage. He fought to keep a smile off his face.
"These individuals have all shown excellence at Quidditch and I trust we will make an efficient team," Oliver congratulated each of them personally, shaking their hands. He grinned when he got to Harry, "I knew you'd be joining us someday, Potter."
He turned back to the stage and smiled despite all the miserable faces, "Now for the reserves. Please join us on the stage a few feet behind the starters when I call your names. Christopher Carr, reserve Chaser. Matthew Glover, reserve Chaser. Melissa Higgins, reserve keeper. Andrew Cox, reserve beater. John Cox, reserve beater. Gareth Thomas, reserve seeker."
Harry and the rest of the starters clapped politely and watched, somewhat regretfully, as the rest of the hopefuls' dreams collapsed. He truly felt bad but it was a harsh dream and disappointment was to be expected. Harry dropped the melancholy thoughts as he glanced around at all of the people now surrounding him.
It felt good to finally begin his dream; he wondered how Ginny was faring.
Gwenog Jones, legendary beater, captain of the Holyhead Harpies, and Ginny Weasley's role model stood before them. She felt awed as she stared at the woman whose poster had been in her room since she was a young girl.
"Listen up, girls. I'm going to call your names out, starting with the starters and ending with reserves. If you don't hear your name, you can assume you've not been selected. I better not see one bloody tear. Is that understood?"
Ginny nodded weakly, as did most of the girls assembled. Unfortunately, that didn't satisfy Jones, "I said is that enough?"
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Good! Meg Gibson, starting chaser. Gladys Reeves, starting chaser. Ginevra Weasley, starting chaser, Jenni…" Jones' voice was drowned out by the roaring in her ears as Ginny stood numbly. She was so shocked she forgot how to walk for a moment.
Fortunately, she managed to gather her bearings and joined Gwenog on the stage. She had finally achieved her dream.
Harry's mind was full to burst with a sea of emotions and information as he wandered the grounds. They had been kept after until dark and the blades of grass glowed with the pale light of the moon. Oliver had not stopped with his eccentric speech-giving; if anything, he'd become worse.
Harry had hoped Ginny would wait for him, but he supposed she was probably busy too. He felt a little twinge of disappointment but that didn't even put a dent in the excitement he felt. He was a starting seeker for his dream team! Is it wrong to feel so happy when I never would have gotten the position if the entire team hadn't been dismantled by the War?
He frowned, his excitement now facing a much larger dent. Before he could continue down the melancholy road his mind seemed to be travelling, he heard the grass rustle behind him. Turning around, wand drawn, he saw Ginny.
"Bloody hell, you have to stop scaring me like that, Gin. But I got starting seeker, how about you?"
Ginny turned into a red missile as she launcher herself at him, hugging him fiercely, "I got starting chaser!" she squealed.
He grinned, returning her fierce hug, "I told you, Gin. Congratulations."
For a moment, everything was perfect. Harry inhaled her flowery scent as his eyes travelled to her lips and he felt an odd urge to kiss her. He scolded himself, This is your best friend, Harry.
He dropped the hug awkwardly, glad that in the dark it would be hard for her to see him blushing. "Oh, and I did tell my mum and dad about moving to your flat. I'm all packed, Dad wants to help me move it over. When can I do that?"
"Well, I'm not sure about the Harpies but Puddlemere isn't going to start practising until next week. I really don't have anything to do until then, you guys come over whenever you want. Perhaps tomorrow you can come over and I can give you a tour. I just realised you haven't even seen the flat."
She smiled, "I'd like that, Harry. When can I come over?"
"I've had it registered as The Potter Flat in the Department of Magical Transportation. Just use that name when you Floo over. Any time after nine is fine."
"Alright, sounds perfect."
Harry stayed at the field long after Ginny had apparated home. His life was changing and Harry was glad. He couldn't wait to start Quidditch practice.
He was ready to fly again.
Harry sat at his kitchen eagerly awaiting Ginny's arrival. He had cleaned after breakfast, hoping to impress her. It was childish, he knew, but he was really excited to have a flatmate. It had been far too quiet.
Thankfully, the floo roared to life and Ginny stepped out gracefully. Harry jumped up, greeting her eagerly, "Hi, Ginny. How are you doing this morning?"
"I woke up this morning as the Starting Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies, Harry, I'm doing fantastic," Ginny teased before turning serious. "Harry… Do you think it's bad to feel happy about getting starting positions? People died, Harry. We never would've gotten the positions otherwise."
Harry frowned, "I know, the same thought crossed my mind. But the best thing we can do is honour their memory and do our best to whoop some arses in the league."
"You're right, of course. But we will eventually have to play against each other; is that going to be a problem?"
Harry smiled before laying a hand on her shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. He'd had the same worry, "I don't think it'll be a problem at all. No hard feelings either way, right? Anyways, let's get this tour going. I'm sure you're eager to get away from the Burrow," he teased.
Ginny groaned, "Don't even make me think about my mother, she was worried her poor daughter is going to die a spinster, but as soon as I told her I was moving in with you she accused me of being a scarlet woman."
Harry laughed, "Oh, stop, Mrs Weasley, can't be that bad."
"Trust me, Potter, she's not obvious about it when you're around. Of course, she's a wonderful woman and I'm proud to be her daughter, but she can be overbearing. By the way, she has enlisted my help in getting you to come to our Weasley Sunday dinners, so don't think you're getting out of it."
Harry groaned before turning to his show her the flat, "This is the sitting room, it's fairly spacey, as you can see. I keep a wireless there by the couch and you can use that whenever you want."
"I like the couch," she commented before plopping down on it. It was a plush, leather couch and it was unlike anything that was at the Burrow.
He mock-glared at her before continuing, "Over there's the kitchen," he pointed to an open door at the corner of the sitting room, that revealed a fairly spacey room with a table. Leading her into the kitchen, he showed her the refrigerator, sink, stove, and washer. "As I said, a Wizard is renting this out to me so there are no worries about using magic to cook or clean or anything of the sort."
He levitated her off the couch and grinned when she squawked, "This door is my room, don't really think you need to see in there."
"Something to hide, Potter?" she quipped, rubbing her bum where he'd dropped her on the floor.
"Well, you're welcome to join me in there, whenever you want, Weasley," he grinned as she blushed, "Exactly what I thought. Now, if you'll stop interrupting, that's your room there. You can do whatever you want as long as you clean it every now and then and avoid ruining it."
She laughed. He knew her too well, "Oi! I do not ruin rooms."
"The twins told me about this one time…" he trailed off when she gripped her wand, a threateningly innocent smile on her face. "Er, I suddenly forgot the story."
Harry grinned as Ginny laughed. He knew that he had made a great choice inviting Ginny to be his flatmate.
Further Notes:
Yeah, like I said, pretty drastic changes. This story is turning out a lot different than I had originally planned and I do hope that's in a better way. If you read the prior version, please let me know what you think. Unlike many other Quidditch stories, I do intend to go into matches in a bit more detail. This is obviously going to have romance - Hinny, though I hope that's obvious - and while that will be a large component, it won't be the central theme as most stories have it. Likely it'll be 50/50 or 60/40.
I hope you enjoyed!